“Does it hurt?” he whispered.
“Not right now,” I forced out, my voice caught in a gasp.
“How about now?” He leaned in that last inch to skim my neck with his bottom lip, hardly touching and yet sending shock waves through me, deep into my belly. My knees buckled. I fell back against his chest. Pressing his body against my back, he buried his face in my hair and inhaled deeply. “I missed you so much.”
I quarter turned and looked up, my nose grazing his jawline as I found a comfortable hollow in his neck to kiss. “I sort of missed you too,” I teased.
“Did you now,” he answered and folded his arms around me. A crooked smirk curled across his mouth before vanishing with the briefest flash of unease.
“What’s wrong …?” I began to say, trying to turn the rest of the way so I could face him. His powerful arm held fast, keeping my back against his chest. Desperate to touch his face, I struggled to pull my arms free but he held me with a viselike grip. A faint smile touched his lips. He was enjoying this. Determined, I rose on my tiptoes and arched my back as best I could, enough to playfully nip at his earlobe with my teeth. He released a low growl, his arms flexing, his jade eyes blazing as they stared at me through the mirror. That look … my legs turned to jelly. Could he read my emotions right now? I flushed, wondering if even the Tribe’s poisonous magic could hide such raw desires.
I caressed his arm as we stood in silence, not speaking, not moving. Warmth flooded my body, desperate for him to let me turn around …
“You should get ready for bed,” he suddenly said. His grip of my body loosened.
“But,” I stammered, thoroughly confused, beginning to turn on my heels.
“Go,” he ushered me forward, nudging me toward the bathroom. With a furrowed brow, I numbly gathered the supplies Sofie brought and headed toward the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
What the hell was that? My tortured conscience screamed out in frustration. Instant paranoia set in. Maybe he’s not as attracted to me anymore! Studying my face rather than my wound in the mirror, I realized that could be entirely possible. The lighting in here was harsh but … wow! I was a mere shadow of my regular self—my sallow, blood-drained complexion contrasted hideously with black circles around flat brown eyes. With my matted, scraggly hair, I could pass for a vagrant. I hadn’t bathed in a few days … I lifted my arm and sniffed. No wonder Caden shoved me in here. Suddenly horrified, I knew I had to rectify this immediately.
“I’ll be out in twenty!” I yelled as I turned on the taps of the deep claw-foot soaker tub.
I shaved and sloughed off days of sweat, tears, and travel in borderline scalding water until my skin was as fresh and pink as a newborn’s bottom. Scrambling out, I quickly toweled off and then proceeded to slather on a myriad of luxurious creams found on the counter, meant to make my body silky smooth and deliciously scented—a different one for my elbows, my heels, my chest … There! Better. Maybe Caden would be more interested now that I didn’t smell like Sasquatch. What did “interested” mean, though? A ball of anxiety exploded in me. What would happen if … What was I about to walk in to? I knew he was way more experienced than I was. I had been unfortunate enough to witness Rachel molest him back on Ratheus. But if he expected more? All of it …
I stood frozen, staring at the back of the door, wondering what he was doing on the other side. Maybe he was already stretched out in my bed, cradling his head under linked hands, waiting for me. My palms began to sweat, my mouth went dry, and the walls shifted slightly. I didn’t know what I was doing. Was I ready for this?
I let out a deep sigh of exasperation. Get it together, Evie! I couldn’t forget about that night back on Ratheus. I hadn’t planned for any of that, and I survived. Better, he didn’t run the other way. This was Caden, after all! I’d risk my life for him, time and time again. Just get dressed and get out there.
Wringing my hands, I reached for the large plastic bag that I assumed contained pajamas. You’ve gotta be kidding me … Arrogant French Poodles on oversized, baby blue flannel pajamas stared back at me. Laughing at me, I was sure. I groaned. Leave it to Sofie, who had more style than a swanky designer, to choose pajamas that would make me look like an oversized five-year-old. Caden would take one look at these and howl. I let out another groan as I yanked them on. That was probably the point … to minimize Caden’s attraction so I got my rest. Why didn’t she just give me a potato sack …?
I reached for the door handle. Holding in a deep breath, I took one last long scan of myself in the mirror. Definitely better. Cleaner, fresher, less feral … Here we go …
I slowly turned the doorknob.
Caden must have dimmed the lights because it was much darker now. I squinted as I searched for him, expecting to find him stretched out on the bed. He wasn’t there. The only body there was a three-hundred-pound black beast stretched out on the rug, tending to a paw.
Caden was gone.
A pang of disappointment pulled at my heart. I surveyed the rest of the room, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me, that maybe he was hiding somewhere. But he wasn’t. The nervous excitement of only a second ago deflated, replaced with hollow disappointment.
Wow. What does a werebeast need to do to get some love around here? Max grumbled.
“Sorry,” I grumbled, trying to wipe the mopey look off my face. “Where’d Caden go?”
Dunno. He ran out of here a while ago and sent me in. Said he had to do something.
I frowned. What could he possibly have to do? Oh, maybe feed. I didn’t see him with a blood bag once on the plane. Then a new thought slammed into me. A terrifying one. What if all this had nothing to do with my lack of hygiene and attractiveness? Maybe I was too attractive! Or, at least, my blood … What if … what if Caden couldn’t control himself around me after all? A lump of worry instantly formed in my throat. If Sofie found out, she’d exile me again. Or worse, Caden could bite me … I swallowed my panic. “Did he say when he’d be back?”
Nope, Max answered, disinterested in Caden’s whereabouts.
Well, at least Caden was enough in control to walk away if needed, I told myself. That made me feel marginally better. I dragged myself over to the bed. Crawling in, I snuggled under the covers, weariness tugging at my eyelids. “What’s going on out there, Max?” I asked into the darkness.
Oh, nothing much. A bound-up vampire, the odd bickering between Frick and Frack. Strip searches of the wait staff … You know, the usual for this crowd. Max hopped onto my bed and stretched out with a loud groan. Oh, yeah … That’s right … Finally. No more dirt or reed mats.
I snorted. “You’re such a prima donna, Max. Don’t get too comfortable. When Caden comes back, you’d better flee. Don’t need you breathing down my neck …” I curled up, wondering how long that would be.
2. Suspicions—Sofie
“I haven’t exactly told her yet,” I admitted with reluctance, pushing a lock of fiery red hair off my brow. “I don’t want to scare her until I’m sure. I’m adequately scared for the both of us.”
“What exactly have you told her?” Mage prompted, her brow furrowed.
With a sigh, I explained. “I told her about her muddled emotions. How we can’t read her anymore. That’s it. That’s all I can tell her for certain right now.” I gazed out the panoramic window overlooking the courtyard.
“Did the Fates not give any inkling to the consequences of the Tribe’s magic?”
“No, I created the Tribe before Evangeline existed.” I let out a derisive snort. “Of course, I’m sure they’re well aware. They haven’t bothered to enlighten me.”
Mage paused again, as if deciding if she should ask her next question. “And what do you suspect is happening, exactly?”
I opened my mouth to speak but the words died on my tongue before I could speak them, too horrible to fathom. With a deep swallow and a slow inhale and exhale, I tried again, my brow creasing deeply. “Maybe it’s some mutated form of the Tribe. I don’t know … I’ve never tried turning one of them. I couldn’t, for obvious reasons. But I’d imagine they can’t be turned. Evangeline’s emotions are similar to theirs—incomprehensible and scattered. But she hasn’t taken on any of their other … qualities.” That last word came out with biting disgust. Inside, I was screaming. No, please, no! Please don’t become one of those disgusting creatures, mutated or otherwise! I felt like my child had been given a death sentence. Another one, beyond the one I’d already given her.
“Let’s hope it wears off,” Mage said softly, reaching forward to give my hand a friendly squeeze. “And what about Julian? We can’t read him anymore, either.”
I shrugged. “Julian’s different somehow.” His emotions were also an illegible mess. Not nearly as jumbled as Eve’s, but still impossible to read. Beyond his love-struck angst for Amelie. Truthfully, I hadn’t given him much thought, too absorbed by what was happening to my girl. “She’s hiding something big, Mage,” I blurted out. “Do you feel it?”
Mage nodded in assent.
“And Eve never keeps secrets. She couldn’t if her life depended on it.” But if someone else’s life depended on it … Who could she be protecting? What could she possibly know that she felt she needed to hide? Oh, that girl! Now was not the time to become reticent!
“Between the two of us, I’m sure we can get it out of her,” Mage offered with a soft chuckle. Mage’s unwavering confidence instantly soothed my frazzled nerves. What an interesting turn of events. From evil, untrustworthy Ratheus vampiress leader to my confidante, in such a short time. I needed it now more than ever.
My eyes drifted longingly to the old oak tree with the tombstone beneath it. Nathan’s burial site. “I’m going to step outside.”
Mage nodded. Without explaining a thing to her, she somehow always knew. “I’ll be in the library, convincing Viggo to end his twelve-hundred-year quarrel for the good of mankind …,” she answered as she turned to glide away, a smile touching her lips.
3. Connection—Evangeline
I woke to a peculiar pins-and-needles tingling in my head. The rest of my body was equally uncomfortable, a damp cold seeping into my bones. Curling my shoulders into my body, I pawed around in the pitch darkness, searching for a plush duvet. I didn’t have one, I realized, at the same time I noticed the cold, hard concrete beneath my cheek. I was lying on the floor. A dull throb on my forehead aching. I reached up and winced, feeling a mess of thread.
I couldn’t see a thing. Nothing but a tiny horizontal crack of light opposite me, like the light underneath a door. In fact, that’s exactly what it was. A door. I heard a blur of female voices mumbling behind it. They were whispering. Propping onto my elbows, I strained to listen.
“… necessary?” a soft-spoken woman asked.
“Yes!” A hard voice snapped back.
“But she’s human …,” the soft-spoken one said. I pulled myself further up and craned my neck, hoping to hear more, to understand what was happening. “… harmless,” the nice lady said. Who were they talking about?
“Harmless!” the other woman suddenly shouted, loud enough that I no longer needed to crane my neck to hear. “She’s involved with those murderous leeches! With that redheaded bitch! They had her cast in that statue and now our magic can’t touch her! She’s so far from harmless, I’m not sure we should keep her alive!” A loud screeching sound echoed as the door swung open, flooding the darkness with light. I squinted and blocked out the harshness with my hand. Through my fingers, I could just make out the silhouette of a wild-haired woman looming in the doorway.
“But we need to keep her for now. Between her and all of that Merth we found, we finally have the upper hand. She knows something that we can use against them, I’m sure of it.” As my eyes adjusted, I saw the wicked smile cross the woman’s lips. She brought her hand forward, a leather strap dangling dangerously from it. “Don’t you, Veronique?”
The woman’s acidic hiss lingered in my ears as my eyes popped open. I bolted up in my bed.
Bad dream? Max asked, unruffled. He was used to me bolting out of a deep sleep.
I swallowed my confusion. “I don’t know. Was I … here?”
Yes, yes …
I rubbed my faceharder than necessary. Was that just a dream? It had to be. I didn’t go anywhere. It was me worrying about Veronique. But still … my gut told me there was something more to it. Deep down, I knew something more than weary nerves and an overactive imagination existed here. If I had learned one thing over the last few months, it was to assume the worst and then expect the truth to be ten times bleaker. If that were the case, it meant Veronique was in danger. It meant the witches knew who she was and of her ties to Sofie. “Our magic can’t touch her.” That’s what the woman with the whip said.