Max must have read the despair in my face because he quickly added, If anyone can figure out how to get it off, Sofie can. He finished with a reassuring bump against my shoulder. It didn’t help.
The bed creaked in loud relief as Max slid off. You should eat. He strode over to the door and used his mouth to pull the lever handle down. The door swung open.
I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Nine-thirty. I hadn’t eaten in . . . forever, it seemed. Beside the clock lay my stack of four by six photos of my friends that Sofie had developed for me—the only thing I had to hold onto, now that my memories were infiltrated with demon-red eyes. I gingerly collected the pictures and slid out of bed, shuddering again as the cool air enveloped my body. I quickly wrapped myself in the plush white velour robe that hung on the bedpost at the bottom of the bed, and slid my feet into the matching slippers.
Max led me out into the hallway and past six closed bedroom doors on the way to the stairs. Not a cough or a whisper came from any of them. It was eerily silent for a cabin containing this many people. We stepped from the dimly lit staircase into the great room, now warmed by sunshine streaming in from various vast windows and a skylight tucked between the thick wood beams supporting a cathedral ceiling.
This way, Max called, heading past the rustic dining table toward the back of the room, where I could hear pots and pans clanking together. I rounded the corner and stepped into the delicious, earthy aroma of a rich soup stock.
“Good morning!” Leo sat at a small table with a cup of coffee in one hand and a wildlife magazine in the other. Relaxing in the wooden chair with his legs crossed, wearing a red and black plaid shirt, he looked completely at ease. A night’s sleep had faded the dark circles under his eyes. “Coffee?” he offered, sliding a full mug my way before I could answer.
I smiled and nodded, letting my eyes rove the kitchen. All the luxuries of Viggo and Mortimer’s urban kitchen were there—the cappuccino maker, the industrial gas stove and grill, a large refrigerator—but the string of garlic cloves hanging from a nail in the wall and the butcher block counter cluttered with bottles and jars of various spices and oils gave it a rustic air.
Magda and two other staffers hovered over various pots on the stove, the source of that delicious smell, no doubt. I found it remarkable that these women, magically wrenched from their accustomed environment yesterday and exiled into these mountains, continued with their daily duties as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I wondered if they had any clue what was going on. Either way, they didn’t seem bothered. “We have twelve hungry mouths to feed up here,” Leo exclaimed as if reading my mind. “Go on, take a seat.” He pushed a chair out with one foot. “Did you sleep well?”
“For the most part. Thanks for . . . whatever you did.”
He winked at me, then returned his attention to his magazine. I glanced at the giant brown grizzly on the cover. The image stirred memories of Big Brown and a wave of sadness washed over me. Big Brown had been Bishop’s ferocious pet, created to serve as my protector. The evil Council leader, Mage, had killed him when she entrapped Caden. “I guess we don’t get regular mail deliveries here?” I said, noting the issue’s publication date—1992. Not exactly current.
Leo chuckled. “No. I suppose we don’t.” He sipped his coffee, eyeing me over the rim of his mug.
I studied the cover some more, noting the subhead Locate the world’s remaining grizzly population. “So,” I asked, “are there any grizzlies in these mountains?”
Leo’s eyebrows arched. “Hoping for a clue as to where we are?”
“No . . . ” Yes.
“Hmm. You know there’s a map in here, indicating where the world’s grizzlies exist. They’re in only a few locations around the world. So if I told you there were grizzlies here, you could quickly deduce where we are, right?”
Don’t try to outsmart him. He’s a wily old man, Max warned from his spot behind me.
“Yes, I’ve noticed,” I grumbled, pouring a heaping teaspoon of sugar into my coffee.
Leo exploded in laughter, his eyes shifting between Max and me. He must have caught the gist of our secret conversation. After a moment I couldn’t help giggling as well, caught in Leo’s infectious spirit. He put the magazine down. “How do eggs and bacon sound?”
I nodded eagerly. “Yummy.”
As if waiting for the signal, Magda abandoned the wooden ladle in her pot and grabbed a frying pan from the hanging rack. In seconds, she had two eggs sizzling.
Hands hugging my coffee mug, I rose from my chair and wandered over to a giant window that displayed a mountain view both breathtaking and daunting. The valleys and sea of trees below us told me we were at a high altitude, yet distant mountains towered over us. Spying a frosted thermometer to one side of the window I leaned in, and found the mercury buried at the minus sixty degree Fahrenheit mark. I shivered reflexively.
“Sit!” Magda instructed in her brusque accent. A plate thumped down on the table behind me. “Your food is ready.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at her as I headed back to the table.
Her head bobbed once, the only indication that she’d heard me. She moved immediately to another task, tossing a cutting board’s worth of chopped potatoes into a pot of simmering water.
I devoured breakfast, using my toast to sop up the yolk from my eggs and accepting a second helping of bacon. I noticed Leo watching from the corner of his eye while pretending to read his magazine, an amused but relieved smirk on his face.
“Good! I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you being too miserable to eat,” he commented as I set my fork down, finished.
I smiled, gathered my dishes, and carried them to the sink. Magda’s helper, a middle-aged, mousy woman named Martha, politely shooed me away, whisking the dishes out of my hand before I had a chance to wash them.
“They are working for you now, per Sofie’s instructions,” Leo explained.
“Oh.” I smiled at Magda, whose eyes flicked to me before refocusing on her pot. I felt my cheeks burn, and wondered what they thought of me. I didn’t need servants, but I knew refusing was out of the question, so I didn’t bother. I turned to Leo. “Okay, what now?” What did a person do to kill time when they were exiled in the wilderness?
“Relax! Enjoy life,” Leo murmured, waving his hand dismissively toward the great room. “There’re plenty of books to read.”
Taking the hint, I left the kitchen’s delicious aroma, my giant werebeast in tow, as usual. “Don’t you need to eat?” I asked over my shoulder.
I’m ready to gnaw someone’s arm off but I’ll go later, when the others get back. We go in shifts so someone’s always around here, he explained.
“Why? It’s not like anyone’s going to find us.”
Stranger things have happened.
“I guess.” Like talking telepathically to a werebeast who’d decided to switch masters. Or being cursed and sent to another world. Or falling madly in love with a vampire who then tried to kill me. My life was all about the strange.
I rounded the corner to find a dark-haired guy standing and staring out a window, a small hardcover book in his hand. Julian. He half turned at the sound of my footsteps.
Speaking of gnawing on arms, Max muttered.
“Good morning,” I said cheerily, ignoring my hungry werebeast’s subtle threat. Suddenly conscious of my fuzzy pink pajamas, I pulled the ties of my robe tighter.
There was no need. Julian turned back to gaze out the window without a word, leaving me to stare at the back of his raven-haired head. Not surprising. The young Colombian had yet to show a side that challenged Sofie’s derogatory opinion of him. He and his sister, Valentina, were part of Viggo and Mortimer’s beard family—a cover for their existence and their lavish home on Fifth Avenue. I had practically begged that they be protected from Viggo’s deadly grip, the only reason Sofie hadn’t left them in that death trap.
I wouldn’t waste my energy on that one, Max said.
I sighed and walked over to scan titles on the bookshelf beside the fireplace, obedient to Leo’s instruction to relax. I noticed that one shelf housed every single one of my favorite novels, and a small metal sign posted on the shelf identified them as Evangeline’s Picks. I smiled. The other shelves were full of unfamiliar titles, surely chosen by Sofie for that very reason.
I grabbed a book with a plum cover and took a step back, only to bump into Max, who had edged up behind me. “Max!” I whispered in exasperation, turning to see the dog eyeing Julian. I followed his gaze to find Julian’s attention on us. On me. Our eyes locked. It was the first time I had ever looked at him dead on. Sofie was right—he was really good-looking in that tall, dark, and Latin way. For a second I thought he would speak. But then his brow knitted into a scowl and he turned back to gaze out at the snow, leaving me staring awkwardly at his back for the second time. Being in exile with him is going to be long and painful. At least Valentina was here. I had only met her the one time, but she seemed nice enough.
My eyes wandered around the room, looking for something else to fix my attention on. They quickly zoned in on three oil paintings on the opposite wall. Yesterday, distracted with my abrupt arrival and the following revelations, I hadn’t noticed the paintings. Now I had time to study them.
Each one depicted a little blonde girl in a different scenario. Me. Me jumping through puddles; me playing with my dolls; me petting a speckled gray Pomeranian. Glancing around the room, I found two more that were very clearly of me. “You weren’t kidding, Max,” I murmured under my breath, waves of shock rippling through my body. I glanced at Max and saw something close to a grin on his muzzle.
Didn’t anyone tell you that vampires can be a tad obsessive?
Sofie was . . . obsessed with me? With a heavy sigh, I headed to a lounge chair beside the stone hearth and pulled my legs up to sit cross-legged. “Relax and enjoy life,” I whispered to myself again, as if repeating Leo’s words enough would somehow make this feel like a vacation. Maybe I’d get to enjoy all two hundred-odd books, given that I’d be “relaxing and enjoying life” in this asylum for years, I thought bitterly as I cracked the cover. The faint new book scent that wafted from its pages soothed me, at least.
After restarting the first page a dozen times, I realized I wouldn’t be putting a dent in my personal reading challenge any time soon. My attention kept drifting to New York . . . How far away was I from Caden? Was it day or night there? What was happening? Had Caden’s feelings for me changed?
“What the—” Julian’s low mutter distracted me from my musings. I quietly shut my book and looked his way. He hadn’t moved from his spot and he was intent on something outside. A moment later the side door opened and Valentina stepped through, her normally olive-colored cheeks glowing a vibrant red and her big brown eyes glassy-looking from the frigid temperatures. She wore nothing to protect her from the elements but mitts, a light sweater, and a pair of boots, the undone laces dragging as she walked.
“Are you insane?” Julian exploded, storming toward his little sister. “What were you doing out there? You could have frozen to death!”
“I went for a quick walk. It’s pleasant out,” Valentina answered excitedly in that high-pitched, childish voice of hers. I felt my eyes widen with shock at the same time that Julian’s did. How anyone without a balaclava and a fur-lined body suit could ever call minus sixty degrees “pleasant” was beyond my understanding.
“I have to agree, Valentina,” Leo said sternly in his Irish brogue as he entered the room. “Only an idiot goes out in these temperatures without good reason. Don’t leave this cabin again without being properly dressed, and only with someone’s knowledge.”
Valentina turned to regard Leo, her bright eyes narrowing ever so slightly with displeasure before they relaxed. “Okay,” she agreed, smiling sweetly. If Leo’s severe reprimand ruffled her, I couldn’t tell.
“Why would you . . . ” Julian’s voice drifted off and he shook his head at his foolish sister one last time before turning to Leo, his expression wary. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. “Do you know what happened to our parents?” he finally asked, his tone more respectful than yesterday’s. Leo’s blunt threat must have forced him to check his cockiness.
The wrinkles in Leo’s heavily creased forehead deepened. He nodded. “That’s why I came in here.” He paused. “Unfortunately, your parents didn’t survive. There were just too many . . . of them to control.”
“Too many?” Julian repeated, confusion in his eyes.
He hadn’t seen the horde of Ratheus vampires appear, I realized. He had been inside. The guy really had no idea what had happened.
“They died quickly, if that’s any consolation. I’m sorry.” Contrasted with his callousness the day before, Leo’s soft tone indicated authenticity. I noticed he wouldn’t use the term “vampires,” though everyone in the room knew exactly what they were.