“We would never hurt Evangeline,” Viggo began.
“Drop the act,” I snapped. “No one’s buying it.”
“You must be Viggo,” the vampiress murmured, smiling knowingly at him.
Another intense wave of panic rolled through me. She knows too much.
Viggo responded with a broad, toothy grin and an overly-dramatic bow. “And who might you be, my beautiful creature?” I noticed his fingertips drum lightly against his thigh, the only indication of his tension—one he usually acknowledged and ceased within seconds. This time, though, those long, manicured fingers kept drumming.
The vampiress’s upper lip twitched slightly but otherwise her face remained serene, unreadable. “Mage.”
Evangeline never mentioned a Mage . . . Who was she?
“Well, Mage. Welcome to our fabulous planet.” Viggo thrust his arms out dramatically. “Full of living, bleeding humans! We’re so happy you’ve finally made it.”
At the mention of blood, a chorus of growls and deep inhalations rose from the crowd of depraved vampires. My attention darted to Evangeline’s friends again to see their eyes morph in anticipation.
“Settle down, everyone!” Mage’s stern voice rang out above the noise. “Don’t behave like wild animals.” As if her words had a tranquilizing effect, the noise in the atrium quieted to a low murmur.
“Now tell me, dear Mage, because I am in awe of your power . . . Are you the first?” Viggo asked. The first . . . he meant the first vampire.
Mage ignored him, turning to direct her next question to me in a sharp, direct tone. “Why do you believe Viggo wishes harm to Evangeline?” She was focused. She wanted information. But why did she care?
“Yes, Sofie,” Viggo interjected, his brow creasing as if he were confused and hurt. “Why, exactly? We made a deal. Once our sweet Evangeline brought back a vampire, she’d be free to go with her extorted money and her little friends. Remember?” he asked innocently. “So why exactly don’t you want to finish the spell? Don’t you want to release your sister?” He gestured at Mortimer. “Are you punishing us for something? Or,” his eyes narrowed, “perhaps you want more money for yourself?”
I sighed, absorbing the onslaught of accusations. There was no point in continuing the eighteen-year-old lie anymore. They wouldn’t find Evangeline. But I had to lay the truth out carefully. “The spell isn’t over.” I held my hand up in surrender as the words left my mouth, focusing now on Evangeline’s friends, hoping to explain before they exploded, before they decided I should die for deceiving Evangeline. To my surprise, my confession brought no reaction. Nothing, aside from a flicker of mild surprise in Amelie’s emerald eyes. From Caden and the cute couple standing behind him, nothing. Their expressions were stony, indifferent. Strange.
I did get a reaction from Viggo and Mortimer, though. “What?” they screeched in unison, Mortimer’s voice two octaves above his normally deep, ominous level.
I adjusted my stance as I explained, expecting one of them to fly at me. “The pendant can’t come off Evangeline yet and I need the pendant to release Veronique.”
“And when can it come off?” Mortimer whispered, hovering over me, his glare icy enough to freeze a normal person stiff.
“When I figure out how to get it off Evangeline without killing her,” I answered, matching his coolness.
“You’re choosing that girl over your own flesh and blood?” Each word left Viggo’s mouth with slow, sharp precision.
The accusation pierced my heart as surely as if he had stabbed me. “No, that’s not true,” I began, but I faltered, the guilt of my betrayal a weight on my shoulders. I loved my sister. I ached to see her. But Evangeline . . . She may as well be my own flesh and blood, for what she had come to mean to me. I had watched her grow from a tiny, soft baby into a beautiful, gentle woman. I would carve a path of destruction through anyone who wished her harm. I would protect her until my very last second of existence.
“How long have you known?” Mortimer hissed.
Always. The moment the Fates answered my Causal Enchantment, I knew each and every step that needed to take place. But I didn’t answer Mortimer. Instead I locked eyes with Viggo, relishing the moment as recognition passed across those callous, two-thousand-year-old eyes. Recognition that he had been played a fool. I didn’t need to answer. I just smiled.
Viggo’s eyes narrowed to slits. His lips pursed into a tight smile that evolved into a grimace as he stared intently at me. I knew he was visually tearing out my throat, weighing the value of the desire, deciding if it was worth keeping me here. And he could easily dispose of me if he wanted to; without my magic, I was no match for the ancient demon’s strength. In the end, he only sighed. “Well played, witch.” His lips parted into a wicked smile. “Now it’s my turn.”
He flew toward Caden with superhuman speed. A gasp caught in my throat, his intentions immediately clear to me.
Caden met him face-on, as if expecting the threat. Of equal height, they stood chest to chest, regarding each other as predators would before a battle. “What will happen, do you think, when Evangeline finds out her precious Caden is dead?” Viggo purred, shifting his weight, preparing to pounce.
No, you mustn’t harm him. He is Evangeline’s life. It will kill her. I haphazardly pushed Mortimer out of my way as I edged forward, terrified that my sudden movement would serve as a catalyst.
Caden’s head tilted back, his Adam’s apple protruding sharply as he broke out in boisterous laughter.
It stayed Viggo’s hands. He cocked his head to the left and said curiously, “Is that amusing? Your death, after all of this, is amusing?”
Mortimer suddenly appeared next to Viggo—as an ally, or as someone with a vested interest, I wasn’t sure. Either way, the two of them against Caden would be disastrous. I needed to stop this from happening. My heels scraped over the cobblestones as I shifted closer, the thirty feet between us feeling like a thousand.
“Yeah, actually, it is,” Caden answered levelly, those beautiful, piercing jade eyes sizing up both Viggo and Mortimer, undaunted. They were physically the same size, though Caden appeared ten years younger in human years. “We used the human to get here and now you’re threatening me because of it? I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”
My feet froze. His words . . . the human. So impersonal. So cold. So . . . treacherous. Wariness crept into me.
“It worked! And now we’re here!” Amelie suddenly squeaked, cutting into their exchange with an excited lilt in her voice. She skipped forward and placed her hand on Mortimer’s chest, not intimidated by his ominous, towering presence. “You must be Mortimer, right? So tall and handsome! I’m Amelie. I think we could be good friends, don’t you?” She flashed a brilliantly adorable smile—so adorable that it completely disarmed Mortimer. He faltered, blinking several times, and eventually allowed a subdued grin.
The smile didn’t work on Viggo. “So you’re saying you don’t care for Evangeline?” he asked lightly, though I knew his mood was anything but light.
“I’m saying we did what we needed to do to get here,” Caden answered, shrugging. Something in his tone . . . he sounded . . . bored? Detached? It sparked a wave of rage within me.
Viggo’s left eyebrow arched. “I don’t know if I believe you.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you believe,” Caden answered with a sneer, his chest puffing out aggressively, “except for one thing. Believe this: if any of you so much as look at us the wrong way—” those mesmerizing, blue-green eyes shifted to me “—any of you . . . you will die.”
Viggo’s responding chuckle would have sent a chill through any sane person’s soul. “I’m not so sure you should be throwing threats around, given your youthfulness and lack of human blood.”
Another smug grin stretched across Caden’s face. “Youthfulness?”
“Why, yes! Seven hundred, is it? Give or take? A baby, next to some of us.”
“You assume what we told the human was true.” All four of them chuckled now, the young, blonde Bishop in the back throwing his arm lazily over Fiona’s shoulders. “How much of what you know about me do you think is real?” Caden continued.
This can’t be happening. I was so sure of his feelings. How could anyone not fall in love with her? Panic twisted my stomach. My worst nightmare was coming true. Could they really have lied to Evangeline about everything? Yes! Of course! Why wouldn’t they? Or . . . they could be lying to Viggo, distancing themselves from his target. Either was possible. But now they were toying with my trust.
Ruse or not, Caden’s ploy was working. Viggo’s lips compressed as he realized he could very well be picking a battle with a vampire twice his age, with three more flanking him.
Anxiety tore at my insides. I needed to know the truth. Had he lied to Evangeline? Used her to get here? If they had . . .
I’d tear them all to pieces.
I stepped forward, keeping my target in sight as my mental eye scoured my insides for a spark. I only needed one little helix to read Caden’s soul. Just one tiny little bud, even . . . .
Mage stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Move,” I growled.
“You cannot blame them for deceiving Evangeline to get what they wanted. After all, you did the same,” Mage reminded me.
“What I did was nothing like that!” Go away! You’re distracting me! I sidestepped around her. Just one spark—one—and I’d burn them to the ground. There! I found one floating beneath my left lung. I plucked at it, pulling it up and forward, releasing it from my fingertip. The tiny, glowing purple bud, visible only to me, sailed toward Caden.
A sharp spasm shot through my back as something dug into my collarbone. I lost my grasp on the helix. Flinching, I watched it drift up and away, now worthless. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” Mage’s voice hummed in my ear. I turned to see her hand on me, and one eyebrow raised. How did she know what I was doing? Vampires couldn’t see magic . . . “You mustn’t blame Evangeline. Many were tricked. Even other powerful vampires.” She gestured with her chin toward Rachel, lying under a charred tree.
That’s right! I had forgotten. Was the whole Rachel-Caden thing a charade as well? Desperate for answers, I spun on my heels, breaking free of Mage’s grasp, and flew to the raven-haired demon. Bending down, I tore the Merth bindings from her wrists and legs, wincing at the sting.
She was on her feet in a second, her hate-filled yellow eyes locked on Mage. I watched a secret look pass between them.
“No harm intended, Rachel,” Mage offered mildly.
“No. Just trying to leave me in that hell hole,” Rachel responded coolly, her pinched nose and pouty red lips rendering her face beautiful yet unpleasant.
“Well, you’re here and you’re free. Bygones, right?” Mage matched her coolness, unruffled by whatever had transpired between them.
“Right.” Rachel displayed a toothy grin. She turned to Caden, fury flashing over her face, her hands flexing as if about to rake his eyes out.
“So was all that an act, too?” I asked Caden, leaning in to scrutinize his every twitch, his every shift, for some clue.
“No. That was an added bonus,” Caden answered, adding with thick sarcasm, “thanks so much for letting her loose.”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed further. The hatred was genuine, I decided. But all this just couldn’t be . . . Was it all an act? It would certainly be smart of Caden, distancing himself from ties to Evangeline, making himself less of a target for Viggo and Rachel. Again I reached inside for a bud, desperate to read Caden, to end this question once and for all. Regrettably, I couldn’t find even one.
“I don’t believe you,” Viggo finally stated, crossing his arms over his chest.
Caden only shrugged, an infuriating gesture, based on the fleeting twist of Viggo’s mouth. If they kept this up, act or no act, Viggo wouldn’t restrain himself. I had long-since dissolved his patience.
“Well, while you’re not believing, where are the humans? I’m parched,” Bishop piped up with an obnoxious grin.
“You’ll have to ask Sofie if she can find you—” Viggo began, but voices from inside the building interrupted him.
“Are all the servants on vacation?” a female exclaimed angrily.
Right on cue.
Heads whipped around as Camila Forero stormed through the red doors into the atrium, followed closely by her husband, Carmelo—Viggo and Mortimer’s Colombian “beard” family, and the only two humans left in the building. Their children had left with Evangeline for no other reason than that the sweet, optimistic girl had begged me to save them. These two, I’d intentionally left behind.