New book
With everything discussed, they both stood up and started heading towards the exit of the underground chamber. They climbed a dimly lit staircase until they reached a metal door.
'I'll be able to practice my blue aura with those criminals,' Luke thought, while Wednesday reached out and grasped the doorknob with her hand.
Gomez had told Luke that he was wasting his blue aura in combat and that he could get more out of it. However, training the blue aura isn't easy. He needs a guinea pig or someone willing to let him manipulate their mind, and nobody wants that.
For example, the best way to improve his mind-reading ability is, naturally, by reading minds. 'I could set up a fortune-teller booth in New York,' thought Luke, a new idea sparking in his mind.
That way, he could practice mind-reading with the customers who came by, trying to navigate through their memories while making eye contact and surprising them. He could earn a bit of money while honing his mind-reading skill.
As he was thinking about this, Wednesday opened the door, and a sharp gust of wind rushed in from the threshold. A mechanism clicked into action with a dull noise, and a giant axe shot out from the opposite wall, cutting through the air at terrifying speed.
With superhuman agility, Wednesday threw herself to the side at the last second. The axe whizzed past her, embedding itself with a crash into the wall just above the door.
'That damned kid doesn't give up, huh?' thought Luke, glancing up at the axe lodged deep into the wall, just inches away. If he had been the first to step through, he would have had to dodge that deadly strike.
It was obvious to Luke who was behind this latest assassination attempt: Pugsley. Ever since they had arrived at the Addams mansion, the malicious-eyed boy with his deadpan expression had tried to finish him off more times than he could count. In fact, he'd had more assassination attempts than days spent in this mansion.
The worst part was that the boy was very skilled at setting traps, and since they were traps and not direct attacks, Luke's Observation Haki didn't work on them.
That's why he was putting extra emphasis on improving his superhuman reflexes. He needed to be able to react, either stopping a trap mid-flight with his telekinesis or dodging it if it wasn't too fast.
"Your adorable brother's handiwork. I told you, you should set some limits. You deserve the crossfire," said Luke as he approached Wednesday, who was crouched down, looking at something in her hand.
Luke had complained to Wednesday about Pugsley, but she dismissed it, saying it was just a normal game, one she and Pugsley had played since they were kids—and they were both still alive.
Complaining to Gomez and Morticia had also been useless, as they too saw it as a harmless game.
Wednesday remained silent, studying her pale palm. In it was a tiny, broken raven pendant. When she had stepped aside, the blade of the axe had managed to graze her necklace, snapping it.
'The necklace I gave her…' thought Luke as he moved closer to Wednesday, noticing the halved raven in her hand.
Wednesday's cold eyes stopped examining the broken necklace and turned toward the dark hallway from where the axe had appeared.
"Pugsley…" she murmured, her icy voice echoing in the air.
Suddenly, a dull thud, like someone tripping, echoed from the hallway, followed by a creak that broke the silence. It sounded like the little brat had stumbled out of fear. Then they began to hear hurried footsteps retreating, fleeing as far as possible.
In an instant, Wednesday vanished into her own shadow.
"Why do I feel sorry for him?" murmured Luke, shaking his head.
Luke stood still, watching the dark hallway. After a minute of silence, a scream was heard. The rat had been caught.
'I hope after this he stops bothering me—if he survives,' thought Luke, beginning to walk towards his room.
He couldn't understand how Pugsley had bullies and needed Wednesday to defend him. Maybe at school, he was shyer and not as bold as he was at home, where he had no fear of setting traps to kill their guests.
Five days later, Tuesday arrived—the day when Gomez and Morticia had their weekly late-night date at the cemetery.
Luke was in his room, with numerous candles lit to provide decent lighting. On the old wooden desk sat his MacBook, and he was typing nonstop.
He had already decided what his next book would be—the third in his career as an author. With the first two, he had made a lot of money. With the movie adaptation of Carrie and the success of 'Salem's Lot, Luke's net worth had surpassed two million dollars, after taxes.
His agent, Josh, had been thrilled when Luke told him he was writing a new book and would probably have it finished by the end of the holidays.
Luke was playing it slow, sending Josh sections that weren't quite perfect so that Josh would help refine them, as it would seem odd to finish a book of hundreds of pages so quickly and have it flawless. He had to keep things believable and make his writing abilities seem genuine. It wasn't too difficult.
'This is good for now,' thought Luke, stopping his writing. He checked the time—it was almost three in the morning. The time to sneak into Morticia's study was approaching.
He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. It had already been fifteen days since he arrived at the Addams mansion. To his surprise, he felt very comfortable. His relationship with Wednesday had also improved, contrary to his expectations.
Since they were both so solitary, he had thought Wednesday might feel invaded with him living in her house, but that wasn't the case.
As for the trip to Ohio, Luke hadn't been able to come up with any idea to go there undetected once they were in Shadyside and Sunnyvale. If Natasha, a shapeshifter, had been found by the Kairia clan, he'd likely be discovered too, despite his efforts to stay hidden.
So, he had to accept Natasha's idea of creating false identities for the three of them, in which he would change his gender, since he was famous and could be recognized on the street.
The issue was that they'd have to stay several days in Sunnyvale and Shadyside, as they needed to thoroughly explore both towns for the clues his parents had hidden. A different appearance would be helpful to move around both towns without constantly hiding.
As for his parents, who had left it up to chance whether he and Natasha survived, Luke tried to stop dwelling on it. There was nothing he could do to change the past or the choices they'd made. He couldn't deny feeling disappointed and saddened, but life went on.
Not everything had been bad after learning this; since that night when Wednesday had hugged him so he could sleep, she had started treating him much more warmly, in her own way.
Her gestures were subtle, but there was genuine care in how she looked at him, how she made sure he didn't feel alone at certain times.
'Can vulnerability be attractive to a woman?' thought Luke, reclining in his chair with a lazy gaze, waiting for the time to start the mission.
A couple of soft knocks on the door snapped him back to reality.
"Come in," Luke said, sitting up in his chair. The door creaked open, and Wednesday walked in at a calm pace.
"In five minutes, it'll be time. We need to head to the north tower. At the very top is my mother's study," Wednesday said as she approached Luke's chair and settled onto his lap.
Luke shivered slightly, feeling Wednesday on his legs. It wasn't the first time she'd done this, but he still got nervous and had to control himself so it wouldn't show on his face.
"Yes… What kind of security does the room have? I don't want to die for snooping around," Luke asked.
"Don't worry. It's not my first time sneaking in. It'll be easy. You just need to tell me with your abilities where the traps are since they change places every day, which is the most annoying part. You never know where they'll come from, but now we won't have that problem," Wednesday replied in her usual monotone, her gaze shifting to the screen of Luke's MacBook.
"A new book?" she asked, noticing the lines of text forming the typical structure of a novel.
"Yes, it's something I thought of after spending these days here at the mansion. A book where a normie starts to lose his mind little by little. Although, instead of a mansion, I thought it'd be more interesting to set it in a hotel. My protagonist takes a job as a caretaker and goes there with his family," Luke replied, keeping a poker face, since it wasn't an entirely new idea.
"Interesting. Liminal spaces. Physical and psychological isolation," Wednesday said, resting a hand on her chin.
The idea of a descent into madness in an empty hotel—though not truly empty, as supernatural things begin to happen there—seemed very appealing.
"Yeah... it's just an idea. Nothing concrete yet," said Luke, downplaying it.
He knew Wednesday took writing very seriously and was still working on her first novel. He already had two successful novels, but the ideas were essentially stolen.
He felt uneasy about it, especially since she put in so much effort and had already faced rejection from a publisher, who received a "lovely gift" for turning down her work.
"Nothing concrete? You've made a lot of progress. Don't sell yourself short," Wednesday said, raising an eyebrow with that inquisitive look that always seemed to be analyzing him.
Luke exhaled, trying to keep a calm facade while internally sighing. "Yes… thanks."
"Can I read it more thoroughly later?" Wednesday asked, in a neutral tone that hinted at her interest. "Maybe it could help with my own novel," she added bluntly.
Luke was a bit surprised by this. Wednesday was extremely critical, even ruthless, with most of what she read. He knew she had enjoyed his previous works, though she never openly praised them. But the absence of criticism was enough to know she held a favorable opinion.
"Sure, if it helps you with your novel, read it whenever you want," Luke nodded. "But in return, you have to let me read your novel," he added.
"It's not finished. I have to change a lot of parts and details… according to several editors, it's too bloody, explicit, and touches on very sensitive themes," Wednesday replied with a hint of displeasure.
The constant rejections had left her frustrated, and though she hated to admit it, she had no choice but to consider the feedback.
"This one isn't finished either," Luke said, and Wednesday couldn't argue with that logic.
"Fine. Let's go to my room. I have a copy of the first manuscript I sent—the original, without any of the changes the editors suggested. I'm sure you'll appreciate it," said Wednesday, standing up from Luke's lap and walking toward the door.
Luke followed her, his curiosity growing with each step. Just how bloody, explicit, and disturbing did Wednesday's novel have to be for the editors to reject it?
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