I nodded. “Yes, the Fates. They’re basically like the gods of the witches. I liken them to a group of overweight housewives sitting around a table, thinking up ways to twist hopes and dreams into some perversion of a solution,” I explained sardonically. Mage chuckled softly, amused by my interpretation. I turned to give her a flat stare. “But—oh, that’s right. I forgot, Mage. You know all about the Fates, don’t you! That slipped my mind. Much as it slipped yours.”
Mage cocked her head, then dipped it slightly as if to acknowledge my jibe with a silent “nice one.”
I turned back to Caden and Amelie. “Of course, I have no idea what the Fates would look like if they took on physical form. I don’t even know how I managed to call on them the first time. There’s no manual for getting ahold of them. It’s kind of like humans praying to their god. I just sort of stumbled upon them when I was desperate to turn for Nathan . . . ”
I realized I was babbling and quickly regrouped my thoughts. “Anyway, forty years after I cast the first Causal Enchantment—the kind of spell the Fates grant—I began getting impatient. When I get impatient, I start doing . . . reckless things.” Nathan had always been quick to point that out. “I began testing the Fates, casting all kinds of Causal Enchantments, attacking the problem from different angles to see what they would throw back at me. One of these spells was an attempt to erase my original one altogether, as if it never happened—to change fate back. I knew it was a long shot, but what did I have to lose? Well, sure enough, the Fates came back with an ‘idea,’ all right.” I gave them my best sarcastic eye roll. “They turned this remote tribe in the Amazon into the anti-magic of that wielded by vampires and witches.”
“Interesting,” Mage murmured, her expression pensive. “That’s the second of these Causal Enchantments that didn’t exist in our Earth.” I didn’t miss the scowl on Caden’s face when Mage said “our Earth.” They still hadn’t come to terms with her manipulation of their memories. I couldn’t blame them.
“Are you positive?”
Mage nodded adamantly. “And why does the original vampire from your Earth not look identical to me?”
“It doesn’t make sense . . . ” I agreed softly, speaking more to myself. Another piece to this Fates puzzle that didn’t make sense. I hated broken puzzles. “If our worlds are parallel, someone like me should have been in yours, casting the same Causal Enchantments, destroying the vampire venom.” Amelie and Caden nodded in silent agreement, their expressions reflecting their confusion. In my peripheral vision, I noticed that even Bishop had perked up.
“It’s like you didn’t exist in our world,” Mage said. “Like you are unique to your Earth. Perhaps planted here to alter the course of things.”
I mulled over her theory. “Planted by whom?”
“The Fates?” Mage suggested. “I mean, how many parallel worlds do they reign over? Mine, yours, how many others? Maybe they get bored with watching the same thing happen over and over again, seeing the same faces . . . maybe they decided to throw a wrench into the works.”
I had never thought of that. Was I a wrench for the Fates? Was my very existence, my constant drive to test the boundaries of magic, a by-product of these gods’ need to spice things up? Maybe the Fates lounged around in their sweats and rollers, watching, waiting to see what ideas their crazy jester would come up with next. The very idea twisted my stomach into knots and ran my blood icy cold. Was I their entertainment?
Mage’s voice pulled me from my silent brooding. I looked up to see them all watching me. How long had I drifted off in thought? “So then, this tribe—what are they, exactly?” she asked.
Right. The tribe. I pushed a stray lock of hair off my face. “Good question. I’m not quite sure.” I gave them the rundown—the toxic skin, the unsightly appearance, how their own magic counters witches’ magic within a ten-mile radius, the tiger deal I made with them to protect Evangeline. “They worship the god of fire. I don’t know . . . ” I rolled my eyes when Mage looked at me questioningly. “But what exactly their magic can do, I’m not sure. One day, if we survive this coming war, maybe I’ll experiment. That’s why I kept them alive and hidden all this time. For now, I’m happy to stay as far away from those wretched creatures as I can.”
“Why tigers?” Amelie asked suddenly.
I shrugged. “No reason that I can think of except companionship. They’re the only creature that isn’t affected by their touch. They have a slew of the animals in their village and I promised to bring them more as part of my deal to keep Evangeline safe, should she show up there. Whatever the reason, they’re great for negotiating.”
“That’s just the kind of stupid, arbitrary stuff that the Fates come up with,” Mage added, her tone flip.
“So this tribe is dangerous. We want to get in and out as quickly as possible,” Caden acknowledged. “What do we need to do?” “ I noticed the creased picture of Evangeline in his hands then, the one I had secretly passed him weeks ago. Many times, I had caught him off in a corner, gazing at her face. It was an endearing picture. But a picture just didn’t cut it next to the real thing . . . And that reminded me of something I needed to do before I felt completely safe with him around her.
I stood and walked over to the bar fridge. Reaching in, I grabbed several bags of blood that I knew would be there—Viggo had stashed blood everywhere. “We find the tribe.” I began tossing bags out to the group. The one I threw in Bishop’s direction hit his knee and dropped to the floor; he made no move to grab it. “Hope they don’t kill us, and get the hell out of there with Evangeline.” I ended at Caden, who held his hands out in anticipation. “Not you.” He frowned, as did Amelie, her curls bobbing as she turned from Caden to me. “I need to know I can trust you.”
“Haven’t the last twelve hours proven anything?” Caden said.
“Yes, but I’m worried your emotions will get the better of you when you see Evangeline for the first time.” By emotions, I meant lust. Lust was as much a driver as fresh blood and Caden, being in his early twenties, was definitely no shy schoolboy. “I need to test you.”
Caden arched an eyebrow, a worried question in his eyes.
I walked over to the cockpit door and knocked. Jasmine’s head popped out almost immediately. “Would you mind coming out for a moment? Just for a sec.” I reached out to take her hand.
She nodded and stepped into the cabin, scanning the others. I pushed the door closed behind her. “What lovely brown eyes you have,” I cooed, steering her attention back to me with my fingertip on her chin. She smiled shyly, no clue of my real intentions—that I was zoning in on her irises, pulling her eyes in to mine until our focus was locked. In seconds, she was staring vacantly back at me, compelled. “You are going to walk over to Caden and offer him your blood,” I said.
“What?” Caden barked out behind me. “Are you nuts?”
I ignored him. “Ready?”
She nodded dumbly.
Holding her hand, I turned to look at Caden. “I need to know that I can trust you.”
His jade eyes shifted between Jasmine and me, full of doubt. “How is this going to prove anything, Sofie?”
In answer, I plucked a few hundred helix links. With a quick disguising chant—the same kind that Ursula used to turn herself into a sweet old bird-feeding lady for Evangeline—I let my magic loose. It swirled around Jasmine’s body like a tornado, visible only to Mage and I. We all watched as Jasmine’s hair lightened and grew six inches longer, as her eyes lightened to milk-chocolate brown, as her skin paled.
As she turned into Evangeline.
I heard the sharp intakes of breath from the others. It was spine-chilling to see this mirage, even for me, and I was the one who had created it. “Now, if you would please—” I gestured toward Caden.
With slow, catatonic steps, Jasmine walked over and sat down in the free chair beside him, opposite Amelie. Gathering her hair and pulling it back, she leaned away from Caden and arched her back to expose her long, slender neck. “Please. Go ahead,” she offered, her voice identical to Evangeline’s.
I swallowed the anxiety in my throat and watched Caden blink several times, awed by the illusion. Please, control yourself. If he didn’t defy the urge that was now electrifying his entire body, there was no way I was bringing him with me to the tribe.
Caden’s jaw tightened. “No,” he growled through clenched teeth.
I allowed myself a small smile. He had passed the first step. But this wasn’t the real test. Sailing over to the illusion’s side with just a thought, I yanked a sharp piece of metal from the underside of her chair. Grabbing her wrist, I slashed the metal across it, opening up a wide gash.
All four vampires hissed. That’s fine. This is as hard as it will get for Caden around Evangeline. If he began feeding on her, he wouldn’t stop until she was dead; I could almost guarantee that. So he needed to fight it.
Jasmine held her wrist up to Caden’s mouth. “Go on,” she offered sweetly.
Caden gritted his teeth tighter. Sickness stirred in my stomach. I knew this was torture. If this were a human version of Nathan sitting in front of me, offering me his wrist, I didn’t know that I could refuse. And that’s why I needed to be sure.
Icy blue-green eyes turned to glare at me. He was fighting the transformation, his whites now tinged with red, his pupils dilated, tiny veins beginning to grow and throb. “This is ridiculous. Get her away before I kill her,” he whispered, his voice agonized now.
My answer came fast and hard. “If you want to see Evangeline again—ever—then you will control yourself. I will sacrifice a thousand Jasmines before I let anything happen to my girl.”
The warning seemed to spark a new level of control in Caden. When he turned back to look at the illusion, it wasn’t with hunger in his eyes. He searched her features, all but ignoring the bleeding wrist under his nose. After a moment, he lifted his hand to run his finger along her chin, down her neck. “She looks so much like her,” he murmured.
Please, control yourself. Please. A metal creak echoed through the cabin. Glancing down, I realized that my fingernails had punctured the ivory leather upholstery and warped the metal frame of the seat. Taking a deep, calming breath, I released my grip and turned back to Caden.
We remained like that for a long time—Caden and Amelie staring at a bleeding replica of Evangeline, Mage watching with interest. Bishop had turned to stare out the window again, back in his own private hell.
Finally, when the pool of blood on the floor by her seat began to worry me, I reached out to her. “Thank you, Jasmine,” I called, lifting the illusion and the compulsion. The fog in Jasmine’s eyes lifted, and they skittered around the cabin in confusion. “You poor thing! That’s a nasty cut on your wrist.” I took her by the hand and helped her up. “You should get that looked at when we land.”
As if my words had permitted her to feel pain, she flinched. She held up her wrist and stared at it with wide, shocked eyes. “How . . . how’d I do that?”
“Glass.” The lie rolled easily off my tongue. Lying had become second-nature to me many years ago.
“Glass?” she repeated, scanning the floor around her for the evidence.
Mage appeared beside me, holding up a broken shard of a wine glass from who knows where. “Yes, see?”
Jasmine stared blankly back at her. I felt a twinge of guilt for putting her through this.
“Here, this should help.” Mage swiftly went to work winding gauze around her wrist—plucked from the never-before-used emergency kit under one of the seats. She handed the woman an ice pack from the freezer. “Press this up against it,” she instructed, offering her a warm smile. “It should help stop the bleeding.”
“Yes, it will be as good as new with that,” I added, placing my hand over the pack and quickly weaving a few threads of magic into her wrist to close up the wound and speed up the healing. We didn’t need her bleeding out in the cockpit.
“Oh, okay. Thanks,” Jasmine murmured, slowly walking back toward the cockpit, glancing over her shoulder at all of us several times.
Not until I heard the door lock click did I smile. “And now we know,” I said. Caden returned a grin of his own, his relief unmistakable. Relief that matched my own. I could trust Caden with Evangeline.
Satisfied, I strolled past him to take a seat in a vacant corner, grabbing a blood bag on my way. I needed time to strategize. How would I get Evangeline out of there? And where in this world could we go to hide from Viggo and Mortimer?
Unfortunately I didn’t get much strategizing time, as Mage slid into the chair across from me. “Well, that must make you happy. One less threat to Evangeline?” she asked almost tentatively, as if testing the waters. Likely wanting to see how I would react to her, now that we were not busy hunting mutants or fighting off witches. Now that I knew what she was, the powers she held, the danger she presented. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what to make of Mage anymore. For someone I openly claimed not to trust, there was a large part of me that felt betrayed when she revealed her secret, as if she should have told me sooner. It was stupid, really . . . and yet it was impossible to ignore. I searched her face for an inkling of what she was thinking. Nothing. Unreadable. “Yes. One less danger.”