After a long while of sorting it out, Queenie and Georgia had decided to adventure to Laos Angeles and stay in one of the cheapest (yet nicest) hotel they could find, Hotel Cortez.

The building was beautiful, but death haunted its every brick.

Georgia was fascinated, death was her thing and it lured her in, she ignored the signs of danger and decided against warning Queenie. It was selfish of her, but she was to far gone to care.

The coven stopped caring about her — she turned up saying she needed help, but there was no space so she was sent back. Cordelia hadn't heard the desperation, or not enough of it, after all she didn't want the fellow witch walking all over them.

Last year, Georgia had been in danger, the home that once housed her, Coin and Misty had been broken into, to see that a sixteen year old girl lived there. She payed a price for her grief and need to be alone — she payed a traumatising price for two months, until it stoped. She was saved by the devil of all people.

Georgia carried too much trauma on her person, and apart of her wanted to punish the coven . . . no, not the coven, just Cordelia Goode. She was blinded by pain and rage, but she liked Queenie, the two got along well, but she cared not to warn the fellow witch for her safety.

Georgia was forced to leave Coin with the coven — Zoe had made her in order to ensure the younger one would return, Zoe was naive to believe her words. If Georgia died, at her hands or others, she was not returning, not by choice.

Georgia didn't want to be alive, not in a world where she was reminded of her isolated life.

"Hello?" Queenie shouted as the two stepped in, noticing no one in the lobby. "Is anybody here?"

It was a wide open space, a beautiful place that had to be crawling with monsters. Georgia assumed hell was beautiful, in order to lure in the naive before their punishment — after all the devil (who she seemed to have befriended) was as beautiful as he was dangerous.

Georgia nudged Queenie, turning her attention to the two women standing in the elevator.

"Hey, you don't happen to work here, do you?" The younger one asked. Her arms felt empty with no cat to hold, she didn't like not having Coin — she doubted he was doing well with out her.

The women shared a look and words that neither the witches could here, before stepping into the lobby.

"Did you have a reservation?"

"Uh, yeah. One name, Queenie."

To ensure things were cheap, the two had agreed to share a room after all, it was only a quick stay.

The bald woman, who had been lighting a cigarette, stopped and turned to them.

"Oh, yes I have you." The other one said, searching the name in the big book of reservations. "And you're gonna be staying with us for three nights."

"Are you two travelling alone?"

"Yeah, we don't plan to spend much time together but it worked out that both of us wanted a getaway." Georgia answered, tapping her fingers against the sleek wood, she could feel the darkness seeping through it.

Death crawled it's every corners.

"What brings you to L.A.?"

"Drew Carey, I'm here to win big money on The Price Is Right." Queenie answered, leaning forward as her voice came to a lower tone.

"Wonderful."

"Yeah."

The two chuckled.

"Well, I hope you get called to 'come on down!'"

"That's actually guaranteed." Queenie pointed out smugly, leaning back, she turned her attention on the two women behind the desk. "Between you and me, our—"

"Your." Georgia corrected.

Queenie looked at the teenager, but accepted the words. She understood that Georgia felt like an outsider — just as she had done, and sometimes still did. She hoped that soon Georgia would understand that she is equal to and always will be one of them.

"My . . . my Supreme did a little somethin'-somethin' to my ticket, so . . . it's enchanted."

The bald one turned to them once again, picking up on more peculiar words. She knew Queenie looked familiar, she just hadn't placed where, not until right now. "I thought you looked familiar! I saw you . . . I saw you on CNN! You're one of the witches!" She said, coming to stand nearer to said witches.

Georgia hadn't gone on TV, she hadn't needed her father knowing her whereabouts . . . or at least one of the places she was meant to be safe. The girl had full enjoyed learning about his death, throwing a small party of both her and Coin — she'd like to note, Lucifer had popped up to check on her and ensure she hadn't drank herself to death, he liked to tell her she was yet to do something great, something extraordinary.

Queenie was hugged by the excited woman.

"Oh! It's this amazing story, there's a whole gaggle of them. They're a bona fide coven. They wear chic black, and they do spells . . ."

"Oh, my goodness! I hope you didn't have to marry Satan or anything to join."

"That's ignorant and offensive." Queenie cut of, all jokes pushed aside as her tone turned serious. "We're born that way, we're all part of an ancient bloodline."

Georgia watched the interaction, the interesting lady behind the desk — her wrists tingled, similar as they had done when she first met the witches, bar Fiona and Cordelia, but different at the same time, as if the woman wasn't a witch or a warlock. The woman emulated death — in a different way to a murderer.

"Blood? Really? That's fascinating." She said, turning her attention to her companion. "Liz, why don't you go upstairs and make sure they have everything in their room that they'll need during her stay."

"Oh, of course." 'Liz' agreed. "I'll get right on that, I'll be a few minutes."

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Once they had been taken to their room, Georgia felt it, the danger that emulated of the room. Death, pain and struggling. A shiver ran down her spine, caught by Queenie.

Queenie over the two years of them getting to know each other, noticed how strong of a witch (and how different) she was, how she could sense death, and through that the danger that lurked.

"There's a lot of bad juju in this room." Queenie commented, feeling a bad vibe with out the signs from Georgia.

"Oh, that's . . . the previous tenant." Iris covered, needing the witches to stay for their demise. "He's gone."

"Dead?"

"No!" Iris let out a little to quickly. "The machine is done the hall, and local calls are free." She tried to move on, push past the girls true suspicious.

Queenie eyed the room — she didn't like it.

Georgia's attention was no longer on their room but staring down at her empty arms, she simply missed Coin and highly doubted she'd be returning to him.

"Plenty of fluffy towels in the bathroom, I just checked." Liz added, walking in to the bedroom to assist Iris. "You're all set." She said, passing them a key each.

"No. I have a dark feeling, we'll take another room, please."

"Oh, we're close to capacity, but I'll check when I go downstairs."

"Meanwhile, huh can freshen up. You'll want to be tip-top for the taping."

They took the keys so the other two could go.

Georgia pulled off her white cardigan, leaving her in a green cami dress, one with white lace and paired with her white converse.

Whilst Queenie had gone to the bathroom, she had decided to get some ice. Upon her getting there, her dearest friend stood arms crossed.

"Child."

"Hello, Lucifer." She greeted, her head tilting as she watched him. "Are you okay? You only reveal yourself when you're truly worried, otherwise you're writing cryptic messages on my mirrors or talking through whispers and no body."

"You're going to die today, child."

"Oh." Was all Georgia said. "Should I be surprised?"

"I need you to promise you won't revive yourself, this all doesn't work if you walk out of here."

She watched Lucifer at first, forgetting about her mission for ice. They didn't need ice — and she had no bucket — she just felt drawn to the area.

"Why?"

"It'll be worth it."

"I'm too depressed to revive myself." She shrugged, leaning against the wall next to her friend.

She could hear the commotion — and so could he, his head had perked with joy as he felt others suffering.

Georgia placed her hand to her chest, feeling the pain of a knife dig through her skin — not her skin, someone else's. She assumed Coin and Kyle were not being stabbed, and Misty was dead, leading to the pain to be coming from Georgia.

"We should catch up later, over some whiskey! Gotta go."

Georgia was back in her room to see a man (with similar features to Kyle) standing over a bloody Queenie, with an insane woman at his side. She leaned against the doorway, watching.

"You may be a witch . . . but I am a ghost." He turned, feeling her eyes on him.

Georgia stepped into the room, softly shutting the door behind her. "When the devil tells you, you're to die, you die." She commented, her eyes flickering to see the blood being sucked out of Queenie, she screwed her nose up in distaste. "But I've never liked the idea of someone killing me. The idea isn't satisfactory."

She held her hand out and the knife in his flew to hers. Georgia lifted one of her wrists and turned away — she didn't want to stain the dress, it was new (from a thrift shop) and she looked amazing in it. In one smooth line she cut deep, straight into the veins.

Death was painful, but the devil was there to steady her through it. He wasn't there in his form, but his dark whispers danced in her mind.

"You did well, child, exactly as I expected."

Georgia didn't care for the conversation between the ghost and vampire (?) as she navigated her way through death and ignored the blood pouring from her wrist, waiting to be taken by the crazy woman.

Georgia Thompson was dead, and with that she was ready to move on from her slowly leaving crush and grief fro Misty Day.

And here we have it. The ending was probably a little disappointing but Georgia needs to not be apart of the coven for reasons. (The ending of coven anyways)
I also know Naomi Scott doesn't look 15, but she's perfect for the next book (she's in) when Georgia is in apocalypse.

Georgia's powers explained:
— she can do all the seven wonders (except the fire one)
— she can sense the pain of people (and Coin) she has an emotional connection with, I.e. Misty, Coin, Kyle and Queenie
— necromancy, she can bring back the dead (with and without the body) she can commune with the dead and navigate through hell (also commune with the Devil)
— see memories (she can see people's memories and force them to relive them)
— power detection (she can sense the supernatural through to sensations in her wrist. The more pain she feels the more powerful they are, I.e supreme or higher)