Caden sidled up behind me—not too close—and ushered me on with a gentle squeeze of my hip, sending lightning bolts of yearning through me. I so desperately wanted to turn and throw myself into his chest but I couldn’t. It was too risky to this whole twisted illusion. I couldn’t let Bishop know who really owned my heart. So I simply soaked up his eyes. Pure torture …
We continued down the hall in silence, passing by the panoramic view of the courtyard, all of us lost in our own thoughts and worries. Rounding the corner, I walked smack into a waiting, grinning Bishop, his mask pushed to sit on top of his head, a fresh bottle of port in his hands.
This spot … again. That same eerie familiarity from before set my hair on end, just as it had the first night. In this exact spot. This couldn’t be mere coincidence … I felt my brow furrow deeply—focusing was becoming a bother, thanks to the port—as I studied our surroundings, looking for clues. The pictures, the statues, the lights, the floor, the door …
The door?
I blinked repeatedly and then squinted. Yup. It was still there. A single red door behind Bishop. “That door wasn’t there before.” I stepped closer to it.
“What door, Evie?” Bishop asked slowly, as if speaking to a child who insisted there were monsters under her bed.
“This door!” I exclaimed, pointing to it matter-of-factly. His head moved from me to the door to me again, a weird quirk bending his brow.
“Maybe you should slow down on the booze … port doesn’t normally make people hallucinate.”
Hallucinate? No … I frowned. There was no way. My free hand flew out ahead of me, gesturing angrily at the door that could not possibly be missed. “The red door. It’s right here!” Still, Bishop’s expression didn’t change. Looking to the others, I saw the same concerned expressions.
“Bishop’s right about laying off the port for a bit, Eve,” Julian echoed.
“I’m fine!” I snapped. “I’m not seeing things. It’s right here!” I looked back to where my hand was pointing, my finger only inches away from the red paint. Sure enough, it was still there. A bright red door with a brass door handle that hadn’t been there before. I was sure of it. Are they playing a joke on me? I reached forward, my hand feeling the smooth metal handle. “See?”
“No, we don’t see, Evie. Quit it! You’re starting to freak me out!” Bishop said.
A door that no one but me could see … this involved magic.
It had to be Sofie’s work, and the fact that I could see it had to do with the Tribe’s magic. I was undoing her magic again. I could see beyond whatever spell she had cast.
But what could Sofie be hiding behind a secret door in Nathan’s chateau that she didn’t want anyone to know about? What would happen if I dared venture past … could I even? What would be waiting beyond it? Visions of a three-headed serpent in a dark pit flashed into my head. My curiosity quickly pushed it away, unwilling to believe Sofie would have need for such an abomination, desperate to know exactly what she did have need for.
Before I could change my mind, my hand molded over the doorknob, sending prickles through my spine. I turned the knob and heard the click of the door catch releasing.
“Oh my …” Amelie gasped as I stepped across the threshold. There were no dark gray concrete walls and cell bars, no pit, nor were there chains holding back a three-headed demon. It was someone’s living quarters. Normal living quarters, a little on the luxurious side. Rich brown and gray textures and colors called this out as a masculine residence. The only odd thing about the entire space was the lack of windows. A hall stretched off the opposite side of the room. Maybe there were windows down there.
Bishop accidently stepped on my heels as he followed me in. I barely noticed. “Are you seeing this?”
“Yep …” he answered, dumbfounded.
“Told you there was a door,” I added with smug satisfaction.
A subtle breeze behind me, followed by a light pinch of my elbow, warned me that Caden had entered. He surveyed the area. “Maybe we shouldn’t be in here.”
Max’s long snout appeared in my periphery. “Who’s Sofie hiding in here, Max?” I demanded to know.
I have no idea.
“Right. Since when don’t you have the 4-1-1 on everything?” I gave him a doubtful glare. “You’re lying.”
I swear it! I’m as baffled as you. His nostrils flared. Looks like it’s empty. Whatever was here smells like it died long ago.
“That makes no sense. Why would Sofie be hiding an empty room? And why the lit fire?” Above the mantle hung a painting of Sofie in the arms of a handsome dark-haired man. There was only one man it could be. “Is that Nathan?” I asked.
Yup. They made a nice couple, didn’t they?
“Yeah.” I wandered forward, Caden and Bishop in tow. Running a finger along a stack of magazines, I pulled it back and found a thick layer of dust coating my skin. The couch cushion had a worn spot in the center, as if someone had sat there for so long that his or her body imprinted into it. Someone had certainly lived here at some point.
“Who are you?” a voice suddenly called out, startling everyone, including Caden. I whipped my head around to find a man standing in the doorway of the hallway. I gasped.
It was the same face from the painting.
10. The Past, Resurrected—Evangeline
“Nath-an,” I sputtered in a gasp, my words half caught in my throat, any alcohol-induced buzz vanishing. “H-H-How?” As if the sound of my voice triggered a switch, Nathan’s eyes fastened onto my face, his head cocking to one side in a form of recognition. Icy cold slithered through my entire body. This had to be Nathan but …
With a wary eye on him, I strained to glance back at the painting. Same face, same nose, same hair, same … no. I blinked several times. Rich dark chocolate orbs gazed down at me from the wall. Shifting my full attention back to the live Nathan, I recoiled under the cold, washed-out slate color, the irises too large to be normal. Even more odd, those oversized irises reflected everything like mirrors—the dark leather couches, the flickering flames, me.
“Evangeline,” he said in a monotonous drone, his face showing no expression, his voice lacking definition. Nothing but emptiness. A rod of panic shot through my spine. He knows my name.
He wasted no time. With robotic movements, Nathan began moving toward me, his focus glued to my face. A low growl to my side warned me that Max was ready to pounce.
“Evangeline,” Caden whispered through clenched teeth, his tone cutting, “move back … now.”
I couldn’t move, though, so transfixed was I by those blue mirror balls, as if they had lassoed and were now wrangling me in, gripping me tightly. This wasn’t like being compelled. No … those eyes were consuming me. I felt him etching my face into his mind. Worse, that eerie familiarity from outside in the hall now swarmed me with renewed intensity as he neared.
I barely saw what happened next. Max leapt for Nathan’s throat, growling and snapping as I had never seen him do before.
“No!” I shrieked, realizing that Max would kill him. Caden wrenched me away, throwing me into Amelie’s waiting arms. A canine yelp of pain froze all of us in our tracks, turning my blood to ice. We turned to find Max lying motionless on the ground. “No,” I whispered breathlessly, my knees buckling, reaching desperately for my guardian. With Max out of the way, Nathan wasted no time continuing toward us. Toward me.
Bishop dove in next, a crazed determination on his face. Without a glimmer of concern , Nathan’s arm swiftly moved up to block the attack, his large hand wrapping around Bishop’s neck. What happened next, I couldn’t explain if I wanted to. Already pale, I watched Bishop’s face turn a pallid ashen color and tighten up, as if Nathan was leeching out the life that kept him immortal. Once done, Nathan tossed Bishop’s limp, withered body to the side.
“No!” Both Amelie and I shrieked in unison. My heart stopped. What had Nathan done? Was he Walking Death now too? Is this what I was doomed to become?
With desperation, I searched Bishop for signs of life. His left knee twitched. Like nerves in a freshly killed body. Was he dead? Was Max? Had Nathan just killed them in front of me? I stood frozen, watching Nathan continue closing the distance. Sucking in, I curled into myself, cowering. Amelie’s fingers tightened around my arms, her own tension channeling through me like a live wire.
But then those blue mirrors flickered off me, moving to my left. To Caden.
I froze, seeing Caden’s jaw set with resolve, his body swaying as he positioned himself, getting ready to attack.
Getting ready to die.
In the blink of an eye—because I had opened the door that Sofie didn’t want anyone opening—I was about to lose everyone. Dread, guilt, and desperation boiled over inside me, charging my limbs with newfound strength, electrifying my body until I could almost see sparks shooting from my skin’s surface.
No … no … no! I couldn’t allow this. I wouldn’t allow this. I would fight. “Stop!” I screamed, struggling to break free of Amelie’s viselike grip.
“You can’t, Evie.” Her fingers dug into my forearms.
“Let me go, Amelie!” I roared. Rage ignited those mental sparks into a fiery blue flame as I battled her impossible strength. Suddenly, Amelie was crumbling back with a howl of pain, her grip on me loosened. In the back of my mind, I knew it was something I had done to her but at that moment, I didn’t care. I cared about one thing only.
I dove forward, hurtling my body in front of Caden to create a barrier before he knew what was happening. “You will not kill him!” I screamed, fists clenched at my sides, bracing myself for whatever agony Nathan was about to serve.
Nathan’s mirror balls snapped to mine and he halted. We watched each other, face to face, two feet of space between us, two feet keeping me from becoming a corpse. I watched without breathing, waiting for that deadly hand to reach up and sap life out of me.
But instead, Nathan did something I could not have expected. No one could have expected. He dropped to his knees and leaned forward, so low that his forehead reached the floor, inches away from my feet. “As you command. I am here to serve and protect you, my Evangeline.”
I instinctively backed away. I only made it two steps before I slammed into Caden’s rigid body. When I looked back over my shoulder at him, I found shock staring back.
“What the hell did you do to Max and Bishop?” Amelie hissed, stepping forward, one hand on Julian’s chest to keep him behind her. I noticed her hunched over slightly, as if wounded. Again, that nagging voice in the back of my mind told me I was the cause her discomfort, but I had no time to concern myself. Nathan’s head lifted mechanically, blue mirror balls shifting to her, the vacuous glare in them enough to give any vampire pause.
“Is she a threat to you, Evangeline?” His leg shifted to get up, not moving his focus from her.
A threat. A threat he needed to immobilize or kill, like he had Max and Bishop? My hands flew out in front of me in surrender. “No!” I shrieked, my voice cracking. I adjusted my tone to one more tranquil. “She is my friend. They are all my friends.”
As if my words provided verification, his focus shifted back to me, losing interest in Amelie.
A whirl of movement pulled all of our attention to the corner of the room where Max and Bishop last lay. Max was back on four paws, his black body stretching out. Beside him, a normal-looking Bishop also stood. “Oh, thank God,” I whispered, crumbling against Caden. Nathan hadn’t killed them after all. Yet.
Max’s low snarl gave me enough warning to stop a second round. “Max! No! It’s okay!”
No, it’s not, he growled, sauntering forward, choosing his path of assault.
“It is, Max! Please, just stay back until we sort this out.”
With a snort, Max leaned back on his haunches, letting out little snarls and growls to let everyone in the room know he wasn’t pleased.
“Bishop?”
Bishop didn’t answer me as he was too busy glowering at Nathan’s back with equal parts shock, anger, and awe. Nathan didn’t even bat a lifeless eye at them, focused on me as he stood.
“Why are you in here?” I asked him. Something told me this was not Sofie’s Nathan, that this had to be some form of alien impostor.
“I am here to protect you.”
“Are you Nathan?” Caden’s voice was level and calm, his suspicions matching my own.
Nathan stared blankly at us as if trying to translate what Caden was asking. “I do not understand,” he finally confirmed.
Again, I peered at Caden over my shoulder. He shrugged.
“Damn it, Evangeline!” A shout turned me around to the doorway just as a red mane rushed by, her face a mask of shock and rage as if I had committed a calculated crime. A crowd of spectators—Mage, Lilly, and her gang—packed the entrance, peering at Nathan with their own mixture of curiosity and aversion.