I followed Bishop and Wraith down the stairs to the foyer, my movements sluggish, my spirit hollow. I barely registered the delicate sound of holiday harps or the scent of cinnamon wafting through the air. Neither did anything to fill the void in my heart. Caden thought I’d betrayed him. I did betray him. I lied to him, allowed his imagination to torment him over something that wasn’t true.
We trailed along the empty, cold halls. A feeling of … absence lingered in the air. Mortimer and Viggo had to be in New York by now, along with Lilly and her crowd. Caden was … I don’t know where. I prayed he was by the tree, cooling off. I don’t know what I expected for Christmas morning in Nathan’s chateau with a bunch of vampires, werewolves, and a wraith, but I’d had higher hopes than this.
Bishop and I walked side by side in silence to the glass room, our arms briefly nudging but otherwise without contact, much to my relief. When we stepped in, when I saw that Caden wasn’t here, my heart plummeted further. Mage was there, though, looking out over a blizzard. “Have you seen Caden?” I blurted. With a furtive glance at Bishop and a check of my tone, I added, “He was worried about Amelie. I wanted to tell him that everything’s fine.”
Mage whipped around to face me, surprise touching her brow. Studying me with arms crossed over her chest, her black eyes narrowed. “Evangeline … do you feel different today?”
That infamous question. It meant something monumental had changed. “No, I don’t,” I answered truthfully. “Well, I feel crappy after all that port last night. Why?”
She shook her head, her gaze traveling down the lengths of my limbs. “I can see magic on you. It’s weak but it’s there.”
I help up my arms in front of me. Still long, still skinny, one still stitched up. No magic. “Is that bad?”
She sighed. “I don’t know yet. We need to ask Sofie.”
I nodded. Another surprise. Maybe this so-called magic was what I had inadvertently used on Amelie earlier. Brushing that problem aside, I focused on the bigger one at hand. I forced a smile and told myself to act indifferent for Bishop’s sake. Inside, my organs were roiling.
“Come! Enjoy the festivities!” Mage exclaimed, striding toward me with her arms held out. Her feet faltered suddenly, her black eyes landing somewhere over my left shoulder. On Wraith. She must’ve weighed her options and chose not to test him because she stopped where she was, instead gesturing to a side table laden with silver trays of pastries, deviled eggs, a well-stocked shrimp tree. In the center sat a small roasted pig surrounded by baked figs and assorted cheeses.
“I’m sure you must be hungry after last night,” Mage said, a tiny hint of disapproval in her voice.
I patted my vacant belly. “This is a little excessive, don’t you think?”
“Not with a pack of hungry wolves. Sofie wanted you all well fed for Christmas morning.”
Speaking of which … “Where is Sofie?” She should’ve appeared out of thin air by now. I looked around, expecting to find minty eyes watching me from some unseen corner. Then I remembered that Wraith was here. Maybe she couldn’t handle being near me.
“She was pulled away for an … urgent matter,” Mage answered cryptically.
Yes, definitely avoiding me. Disappointment piled onto my anxiety. “Will she be back today?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Mage picked up an enormous platter as if it were an empty paper plate. “Eat!”
I used to be hungry. Before Amelie discovered Julian’s secret, Caden all but condemned me, and Amelie tried to squash me. Anything going into my stomach was going to come right back up. “I will … soon. Thanks.”
Bishop helped himself to a carafe full of red liquid, filling a wine glass with it.
I cringed, memories of the thick, sugary port still fresh. “Please tell me that’s nonalcoholic, Bishop.”
He grinned, taking a sip. “It’s not port.”
“Come,” Mage’s cool hand slid into mine. She led me to the twinkling Christmas tree where a myriad of pretty paper-covered parcels filled the space beneath. “There are a few things under there for you,” she said with a smile, prodding me with nimble fingers. “Go on. It’ll be a good way to distract you while you wait …” I didn’t miss the wink. For Caden, she meant. How did she always know? I nodded and gingerly walked over to the tree, more because I needed a diversion than because I was expecting or wanting Christmas gifts. The end of the world was coming, I was turning into a hideous goblin, and Caden hated me. Sitting here and unwrapping pretty little boxes seemed silly in comparison.
And yet, there was tiny flicker of hope within me, some tiny bud of simple delight in this act. I forget what Christmas morning feels like … Kneeling down in front of the tree, I let my attention drift over the colorful packages.
“Oh, here,” Mage swooped in to grab a tiny black box. She thrust it into my hand. “This is from Sofie.”
My hand partially recoiled, panic rushing through me. The last time Sofie handed me a tiny box, a hundred-and-twenty-year-old curse bound itself to me.
Seeing my hesitation, Mage chuckled. “This one isn’t cursed.”
Inside was a piece of paper. I unfolded it to find Sofie’s beautiful scrawl staring back at me. Filled with those who love you. S.
What did this cryptic little note mean? Had Sofie exhumed my mother’s bones and cremated them to fill the box? Brushing the morbid thought aside, I lifted the note and unfolded the soft velvet cloth. Déjà vu rocketed through me as I found the heart-shaped pendant sitting inside. The shape was the only similarity. This one was twice the size as the original, and thick, made of what looked like platinum, encrusted with a coat of crushed, multicolored diamonds.
“Wow,” I murmured, lifting the chain to let it hang in the light. Its brilliant sparkle danced along the walls, even in the dull incandescent light from the lamps.
“You’ve got to be f … you’re kidding me, right? Another heart-shaped pendant?” Bishop crouched down to study it. “Is this supposed to be funny? What will this one do to you?”
“What more could it possibly do to me?” I answered. Still, I placed the pendant back into its box and set it on the coffee table. I wasn’t in a rush to put on anything heart-shaped again …
Bishop let out a mock sigh of exasperation. “Well … way classier than what I got you,” he said, sliding a long, silver package across the floor in one fluid motion. I caught the mischievous smile and my senses started to tingle. This can’t be good … When I peeled the paper back and spotted the Victoria’s Secret logo on the top of a pale pink box, my wariness increased tenfold. I lifted the top cover and upon seeing the hot pink lace, I slammed the box shut, my face matching the color of the seductive outfit.
“Bishop!”
“What?” he answered, shrugging. “You had no issues with that stuff before. Remember, that one night you wore it and we—”
I gasped. “That wasn’t me! That was—” I bit down on my tongue to stop myself just before I said her name, breaking Bishop’s delusion, setting him back into his dark place of misery. It had been Fiona wearing her trademark hot pink outfits for Bishop. As if it weren’t bad enough that the Fates had implanted Caden’s memories of me into Bishop’s head, now they had taken some of his memories of Fiona and swapped her out for me! Bishop’s brain was a hot mess of delusions.
“Glad I’m memorable.” He frowned. “Of course it was you … You think I would’ve forgotten something like that?” His eyes widened suggestively as they grazed my body, setting my cheeks on fire again. “God, Evie. I know you’re worried about this Tribe thing, but relax a little bit!” He leaned in to graze the side of my face with his hand. “Sofie will fix it.” I froze, unsure of how to respond to his affections without hurting him. He leaned in and pressed his mouth against my ear, sending shivers through my body. “I miss you …”
I couldn’t help it. I slinked back, my body as stiff as a corpse with the unsolicited closeness. Turning to Mage, I whispered, “I don’t know which is worse …”
Her face smoothed over. “Definitely the alternative.”
Bishop’s charcoal eyes shifted from Mage to me, narrowing slightly. “What are you talking about? First, Amelie … now you. Why does it feel there’s a giant secret that I’m not a part of?”
Oh, but you are part of it, Bishop. You’re at the center of it … We needed to be more careful. I needed to distract him.
“No secrets,” I said, smiling as I forced myself to reach forward and pat his knee. I held the box up in front of me. “Thanks for this. I’ll be sure to model it for Max later,” I offered with a sly wink, trying to make light of the situation.
Bishop made a stabbing motion to his chest. With a deep groan, he fell to the floor with dramatic flare. If my flippant rebuff wounded him, I couldn’t tell. Either way, his focus was off the secret.
I glanced over my shoulder, hoping to find Caden lingering in a corner. No one but Wraith stared back. My shoulders sagged. Where could he be?
“Here’s another one. From Amelie.” Mage shoved a large box in my face, temporarily distracting me from the inner turmoil that must’ve been splayed across my face. Oh, Amelie … I peeled the wrapping to reveal an oversized brown shoebox. Inside was a beautiful pair of soft brown leather riding boots, similar to the pair I’d brought to her on Ratheus. As I admired them, I noticed a narrow inner pocket. Hmm … Sliding the boots on over my jeans, I tested my dagger’s fit in one of the pockets. “Perfect!”
Bishop snorted. “You think you’re ready for war now?” When he processed the severity of his words, the grin slipped off his face. He picked up my diamond pendant from its box, and tossed it up and down as if were loose change. “I hope it never comes to that.”
“It’s only a matter of time, isn’t it?” I whispered sadly. Would it be before or after I miraculously freed Veronique? Before or after I turned into a jaundice-eyed freak? Before or after Caden told me to drop dead?
Caden …
I searched the room again. Where the hell was he? I need to explain, damn it! Just five minutes to talk openly, freely, without guarding my words, without onlookers. Impossible … The word became real as I spotted my dark-haired warden loitering in the shadows. Watching me. Always watching.
I folded my face into my hands, the urge to scream overwhelming. I wanted to run as fast as I could; through the door, into the snow, into freedom. Would Wraith chase me? Would I have five minutes to myself so I could drop to my knees and pound the earth, to pity myself, to plead with God or the Fates or whomever was running the show up there? So freaking ironic. Before, I was disappointed that Caden couldn’t turn me. Now, all I wanted to do was remain human. Was that too much to ask?
I stood, bile churning the meager contents of my belly, and moved toward the hall. Wraith was instantly on guard, mirroring my steps. “Bathroom,” I grumbled, my irritation growing with each second. I anticipated the upcoming argument.
As expected, he barged into the bathroom to inspect it, shoving me out of the way. “It is empty,” he announced.
“Wow. If this grim reaper gig doesn’t pan out for you, you could always take over for Sherlock Holmes.”
“I do not understand your suggestion.”
“Of course you don’t,” I pushed past him with a loud snort.
“I will wait outside,” he added, unfazed by my snippy attitude. That only made me feel guilty. He was doing his job. He stepped out and turned his back to me. I shut the door and flipped on the fan, wanting added background noise given I had an audience.
Finally, alone. The treacherous girl with more deadly secrets than the Secret Service, deceiving her way through her days, misleading those she cares about most. All for the greater good. I had no right to get angry with any of them ever again! Everything they were doing was for the greater good of something. Whether it coincided with keeping me alive or not was irrelevant.
I sighed, my hands rubbing my eyes fiercely. “Caden, where are you …” I whispered, more acutely aware of the emptiness in my chest than ever before.
A slight breeze kissed my cheek and then a hand fastened onto my elbow and yanked me backward into darkness. My jaw dropped, a blood-curdling scream rising in my lungs but someone’s palm muzzled me, stifling it.
“Shhh …” I heard, the source only an inch from my ear. It was enough for me to identify Caden, though. All of my anxiety expelled with a breath.
“Shhh,” he warned again, his proximity all the more intense in pitch dark.
I nodded slowly. His hand slipped from my mouth. “Where are we?” I whispered, pawing through the murkiness , my fingertips grazing cold rock behind and in front of me. The space was narrow and held a musty chill. “In the secret passageway,” I answered for myself, suddenly remembering. I waited for him to acknowledge my guess, to say something. Anything.