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.
Its meaning hit me like a freight train, terror seizing me in the deepest level. What if, when I agreed to climb atop that platform for the Tribe to “free me,” the same magic that poisoned me had also poisoned Veronique? It had touched her, after all. Oh God! Shocked, I cupped my hand over my mouth and nose. That meant she couldn’t be transformed, even when we rescued her. After all this, after all they’d done to preserve her and solve this problem … A ball of vomit formed in my throat, threatening to launch. No, Evangeline. Don’t panic, I silently commanded. Breathe in, breathe out. This could still be a dream; this could still just be your subconscious, torturing you.
Well? Max asked. I could hear a hint of worry in his tone.
I paused. “Just a bad dream,” I whispered, hearing the emptiness of my words as they left my lips. It has to be a dream … please, just be a dream … I repeated in my head as I fumbled absently for my pendant, for something to grasp. Then I remembered I didn’t have it anymore. I didn’t have it because I agreed to let the Tribe touch me with their magic, resulting in this entire mess.
The clock read three in the morning. There was no chance of me falling asleep in the near future. “Did Caden come by at all?” I asked, peering outside at the night sky, longing to distract myself with him at that moment. And every moment after …
Uh … I’m not sure. He may have slipped in, but, uh … I don’t know. I fell asleep … Max stumbled over his words.
“Right … so you sleep now.” I glared at him and then pinched the bridge of my nose. I was never one to lose my temper, but if anyone could make me do it, Max certainly could. I sighed with exasperation. “Why didn’t he come by, do you think?” If it was a concern over blood, he should’ve found some blood bags and been sated by now. Shouldn’t he?
Sofie’s probably got him running around, Max offered.
“Yeah, maybe …” I threw off my covers and climbed out of bed. Grabbing the robe and slippers from the armchair, I crept toward the door.
Max groaned loudly. Must you? Can’t you be happy in this bed for one whole night?
“Stay here if you want, Max. In fact, maybe it’s best that you do. I could use a little bit of space. We’re safe here, right?”
Suit yourself, Max answered, flopping back down.
Bloody dog. I chuckled despite my own nervousness. The werebeast who doesn’t sleep and never tires is just plain lazy. It did comfort me, though. If he wasn’t breathing down my neck, it meant he didn’t feel he needed to be. That was rare, especially with Viggo and Mortimer nearby.
As I stepped into the hall, my ears caught gentle female giggles from behind the door opposite me. My chest tightened with panic. Amelie with Julian. In a bedroom together? No … wait. Giggles are good. Screeches are bad. Julian’s life and Amelie’s heart were both safe for the time being.
I tiptoed past and moved down the ghostly hallway. Dim sconces spaced every twenty or so feet lit my way. Gliding down the staircase, I took a moment to stand in the dark, empty foyer, my arms folded tightly around my body. The place reeked of history—hundreds of years of royalty, scandals and treachery, balls and beheadings … and vampires. I wondered where Nathan had died. Was it somewhere in this house? If so, how could Sofie stand being here? If I killed Caden, I don’t know how I’d live with myself, let alone come back to the scene of the crime. Just the thought made me shudder. I could kill Caden. Very easily. All he had to do was lose control. Just one little bite …
From the foyer, I had no idea where to go next. I hadn’t ventured beyond here. When Sofie departed, she headed left. I guessed that was as good place as any to start. With five vampires lurking about, someone would find me shortly. Maybe Caden would find me. I was desperate to ask him why he left in the first place.
I wandered along the long hallway, past dozens of solid doors, light gray walls, and gilded frames of stunning art, all bearing Sofie’s signature. Turning a corner, one of the solid walls gave way to a floor-to-ceiling window, stretching out to provide a panoramic view of a snowy courtyard bathed in moonlight. So peaceful, so quiet, it looked like an artist’s interpretation of serenity. I had to admit, though, after being locked up in those remote Siberian mountains, I could live without snow for a few decades.
I anxiously expected to stumble upon Caden, but a flash of red outside caught the corner of my eye. It was impossible to miss, contrasting so sharply against the crisp white winter. I stopped and focused. It was Sofie. Her hair. Quietly creeping over to the window, I could see that she was kneeling in front of a giant tree. She held something in her hand … a simple white pillar candle, its modest flame dancing in a dull breeze. She leaned forward to place it near the bottom of the tree. Clearly, there was something special about that spot ... If I had to bet on it, I’d say it had something to do with Nathan.
If Sofie could sense my presence, she didn’t acknowledge it. She didn’t turn, didn’t look up, made no indication that she felt prying eyes on her. And that’s exactly what I felt like. I was a peeping Tom. Whatever personal, private moment Sofie was having outside, I was intruding.
With that in mind, I continued on down the hall, walking more briskly until I was beyond the sightline of the glass wall. I reached the end of the hall only to find another expansive one running perpendicular. The Chateau of Long Halls! If I didn’t stumble upon someone soon, I didn’t know if I’d ever find my way back.
Making a conscious effort to remember my steps for retracing, I turned left again and began down another hall, this one exactly the same as the prior. Art, closed doors, no souls. I was beginning to think they’d have to send out a search party for me in the morning.
Abruptly, an eerie wave of familiarity washed through me. I trembled, slowing to a stop as I peered around. There was something about this spot, some connection … like I had been here before. Or, like I was supposed to be here. No … that I was looking for something and it was here. But what was I looking for? I scanned left and right, looking for any clues to remind me what it was. There was nothing here. Just a long hallway with patterned tile flooring and plaster moldings along the walls. You’re losing it! This is what happens when you lose a ton of blood and don’t get enough sleep, numb nuts.
Mortimer’s booming tone from down the hall pulled me out of my fog. Quickly dismissing the eeriness, I followed his voice and found myself in front of a set of ebony doors. “This is dangerous. Don’t underestimate them. Viggo has made one hell of an enemy out of Lilly,” Mortimer said.
Lilly? Who was Lilly? More secrets, I thought bitterly. Oh, well. Two can play at that game.
“I never underestimate a vampire. How do you think I’ve survived this long?” Mage’s smooth response calmed the tension in the air.
There was a short pause and then Mortimer declared gruffly, “If you’re going to sit outside and eavesdrop like a snooping child, then you may as well come in!”
My face instantly burned with embarrassment over being caught. Reluctantly, I pushed the door forward. A loud creak split the dead silence, as if to make my intrusion that much more obvious. In case someone missed it. I kept my face to the ground, hoping the red would subside quickly or that they’d dismiss me and keep talking. After a long, silent moment of staring at the ground, I realized neither was going to happen.
Swallowing, I finally hazarded a peek to take in a medieval-looking room with several armchairs and an ancient-looking stone fireplace. It reminded me of Viggo’s library with its masculine colors and lounge furniture. Viggo sat in a wing chair beside the blazing fire, lazily gripping a poker, as if only watching the conversation but not interested in being a part of it. The box holding Veronique’s pendant rested securely in his lap. Not surprising.
Across the room, Mage and Mortimer shared a small round table, a decanter full of a red liquid between them. It looked like wine, but I’d bet it wasn’t. I didn’t ask. It was a thousand times better than walking in on them feeding from that young maid.
Viggo, Mortimer, and Mage instantly vanished from thought as my eyes landed on a tall, lean body straddling a stool, his hands resting on his knees. Caden! What was he doing with them? Not that I cared. He was immediately on his feet, walking over to me, his hand slowly running through his hair in an almost shy manner.
“Hey.” He gave me an awkward smile. I couldn’t miss his furrowed brow as he stared at me. He’s trying to read me, I’ll bet. But he couldn’t, I knew that now.
“Hey, yourself,” I answered bashfully as I peered up at him. No veiny blood eyes. Check. A wave of lightness flowed through me.
“What are you doing up? It’s, like, three in the morning.”
I shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.” Lowering my voice, I added, “I thought you’d at least come say goodnight.” I immediately felt stupid. There was no point in lowering my voice. I might as well be speaking through a megaphone given the room’s occupants.
Caden looked down at the ground, as if trying to decide what to say. “Yeah … I know. I was going to, but I got caught up in plans here,” he finally answered, avoiding eye contact. The little nagging voice in the back of my head nattered away. Something’s not right. I wasn’t sure if I should trust that voice’s input. It had failed me for the first eighteen years of my life.
Caden looked up again, his expression stony. “You should get some sleep. You’re still recuperating.”
I shrugged off his suggestion with a question, not interested in leaving yet. “So, what are you guys planning? Who’s Lilly?”
“One of the few other surviving vampires of Earth,” Mage answered before anyone had a chance to lie or brush me off. She always seemed willing to tell me the truth, even if it wasn’t good news. That was a welcome change. “They’ve been more diligent in learning what’s going on in the world. We could use their help right about now.”
“Or … we could just create more of our own and not involve those treacherous fiends!” Viggo’s eyes were wide as he studied his fingernails, his distaste for Mage and Mortimer’s plan apparent.
Mortimer turned to glower at Viggo. I could feel the explosion brewing beneath the surface like the humidity in the air before a storm. “We’ve been over this a hundred times already, Viggo,” Mortimer answered in a calm, even tone, clearly forcing his composure. “New vampires are not good for anything except killing and starting a war … exactly what we’re trying to avoid.”
Viggo answered with an eye roll.
Shaking his head in disgust, Mortimer turned his attention back at Mage. “It’s a long shot, Mage. I’ll be surprised if they even come given Viggo’s involvement.”
What did he do to this Lilly? I shuddered as my gaze passed over him. Always Viggo. It’s always about what Viggo has done. I imagined it was horrific, whatever it was. I knew firsthand what he was capable of. He stole my life, my family, my soul, when he murdered my mother for nothing more than a lesson to Sofie. At first, when this entire nightmare unfolded, just his cool gaze on me sent shivers radiating from my chest. He still terrified me. I’d be insane to be anything but terrified of that lunatic. Now though, time had cultivated a deep loathing for him. I wanted him to suffer infinite, inconceivable pain for the lives he had ruined. And that desire frightened me more than Viggo himself.
He rolled the poker in his hand. I imagined my fists wrapped around it, my arm raising above his head, and then striking down, powered with all my hatred and fear. I forced the urge aside and ducked my head, afraid he’d pluck my dark thoughts from my face. Viggo might have lost interest in me, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t kill me.
Mage’s voice distracted me from my violent wishes. “Oh, they’ll come. Remember, we have something they want …” She smiled.
“Come? You mean … come here?” I asked. More vampires. Because there aren’t enough. Mage only nodded, offering me a gentle smile. That’s all she ever seemed to do around here—gentle smiles, the voice of reason. I don’t get it! Caden and the others painted this picture of a pure evil vampire and yet she had been nothing but a blood-sucking Mary Poppins. “What do they want?” I asked hesitantly.
Her answer was matter-of-fact. “Among other things … venom.”
Venom? Venom … “They want to convert humans,” I heard myself say out loud.
Mage answered with a smile and nod. “They have humans they care about, who they want to convert. Up until now, they couldn’t. Now they can.”
More humans who could be converted. More vampires who had fallen in love with humans. I guess it made sense. Vampire, or human—everyone falls in love at some point. Even someone as toxic as Viggo. And now they could be converted. Everyone could be converted except for Julian and me;and maybe Veronique. We would die human. A moment of selfish bitterness rolled through my body. How was this fair?
“When will they be here?”
“We’re not sure. We’ve … sent our invitation. We hope they’ll arrive by tomorrow night.”
I blanched. Something about the way she said invitation pricked a nerve. It sounded altogether sinister. “Where are they now?”
Mage smiled. “We’re not exactly sure.”
“Well, then …” My brow creased, my curiosity getting the better of me. “How did you send them an invitation? How do you know they’ll get it?”
“Oh, they’ll get it,” Viggo said, emitting a small but maniacal laugh.
Mage and Mortimer gave each other a sideways glance. Viggo knows how to get in touch with Lilly. Let’s leave it at that,” Mortimer explained.
They’ll be here tomorrow night. A chill rippled through me.
“Cold?” Caden whispered, moving closer, putting his arm around my shoulders. My entire body stiffened under his touch. “Even in that?” A ghost of a smile touched his lips as his fingers seized my pajama collar beneath the robe. “Nice poodles.”
Heat crept up my neck. “They’re French poodles. The temptress of the canine world.” Shut up, Evangeline … what was I implying? That I was trying to tempt him with fuzzy pajamas? In front of an audience? A new wave of embarrassment bowled over me. I wanted to bury my head in a pillow.
Caden chuckled. “You should get back to sleep. You haven’t healed from that injury. You’re still pale.”
Great. A ghost in poodle flannels. Take me now, Caden … I brushed off the self-loathing, silently pleading with him through my gaze.
Opening his mouth, he hesitated. “I’d walk you there, but I don’t want to leave Bishop.” He thrust his chin to a dark corner behind me. Startled, I turned and followed his direction to a looming bookshelf full of black leather-bound encyclopedias I hadn’t noticed before. I also didn’t notice the person propped in a chair beside it. Unmoving. Unsmiling. In a catatonic, magically bound state.
Bishop. Staring right through me.
Seeing the once-boisterous Bishop still a zombie felt like a punch to the gut. “Sofie hasn’t released him yet?” Of course not. Like he would be over the urge to run after seeing the love of his immortal life burn to death. Tears welled. I’m a wretched, selfish person. We were on the brink of a war, one of my dearest friends is heartbroken over my other dear friend’s death, and here I am, trying to tempt Caden back to my room.
“Sofie says he can hear everything. He’s not in any pain,” Caden explained, adding in low mutter, “not physically, anyway.”
I nodded. “He’ll get better, won’t he?” I heard my voice, I knew I asked the question, and yet it was like someone else had spoken.
Another pause. “Bishop’s broken, Evangeline,” he whispered. “He watched his eternal love die. He’s a shattered mess. Unfixable. We’ll never get him back.”
Shattered. Unfixable. Shattered. Unfixable. I shook my head, trying to rattle the words free but they wouldn’t budge. No, no, it couldn’t be. I wouldn’t accept it. “But what about Amelie? Look at her! She survived!” I knew I was borderline hysterical, but I didn’t care. “And she’s in love again! No.” My jaw set stubbornly. “He’ll be fine.” I looked back at Bishop. “Bishop will be fine. He just needs time.”
Caden reached up to pinch my chin between his thumb and index finger and forced me to face him. “Amelie took the better part of seven hundred years to get better, Eve,” he explained gently. “And she killed her boyfriend. She had no one to blame but herself. Besides, I guilted her into sticking around, not to abandon me. She wouldn’t have lasted long enough to fall in love again otherwise. Bishop, though …” He turned to look at his best friend. “He watched Fiona die by someone else’s hands. He’ll stop at nothing for revenge.” Caden swallowed, as if not wanting to say the next words. When he finally did, as soft as they were delivered, they cut through me like a knife. “He might be better off dead, Evangeline.”
The tears poured freely now. I didn’t bother wiping them away. I hadn’t even come to terms with the loss of Fiona, and Caden was pretty much delivering Bishop’s death sentence. Was this how it was going to be? One by one, I would lose those I cared about as this war with the witches and the Sentinel took shape. Until when? Until I had nothing left? Until I was gone?
No. Everyone could overcome loss and death. I did. Amelie did. Now, Bishop would. He had to. I pulled away from Caden and slowly walked over to where Bishop sat. I crouched down onto my knees in front of him. It was so strange, seeing him like that. The vampire who had willingly battled a grizzly in order to protect me, the goofy guy who had baited a leech for me, the friend whose unrestrained laughter and gentle ribbing kept smiles on my face in the most desperate times, was now in an open-eyed coma of endless agony.
I cleared my throat. “You need to be strong, my friend,” I whispered softly, my voice cracking. “You will get through this. You have us. We’ll help you. We can’t lose you too, Bishop.” Tentatively, I reached forward to let my fingers graze his knee. With a second’s contact, an uncomfortable current pulsed through my fingertips, like an electric shock. It wasn’t painful but certainly unpleasant. It had to be Sofie’s magical binding. Should I be able to feel it? Gritting my teeth, I ignored it, forcing my hand on his knee, bracing myself for the zap. I could survive this much at least. Bishop needed to know we were there for him. We couldn’t just abandon him, write him off as damaged goods, irreparable.
The current continued at a steady pace through me, though it wasn’t nearly as intense as I’d expected. I gave his knee a squeeze of reassurance. No reaction … He stared at nothing, vacuous gray eyes lost in yesterday. Leaning in, I stared fixedly into those catatonic eyes, searching for some shred of the Bishop I knew, some spark I could seize and pull out.
As if suddenly snapping to, black pupils shifted and locked on mine. Despair and loneliness crashed into me like the waves of an angry ocean, ready to pull me under, to suffocate me in its power. All his loss, all his pain, all his anger came pouring out of that one eye shift. I was suddenly absorbing Bishop’s pain, living his agony. Impulsively, I dove forward, my arms wrapping around his shoulders in an awkward hug. “I’m so sorry, Bishop. I’d do anything to bring her back if I could.” That’s when the violent sobs finally began.
“Okay, there’s no time for crying.” Mortimer’s thick booming voice cut in, gruffer than usual. “It’s time you got some sleep.” Strong hands wrenched me away from Bishop. He towed me toward the door. “Come. I’ll help you back to your room,” he muttered, his lips tight.
One last glimpse at Caden revealed his tortured expression. I sucked in my sobs and let Mortimer drag me out into the dark hallway, his arm now linked with mine, as if we were out for an evening stroll. A stroll with a stiff-bodied, stern-faced, grumpy vampire. Before Rachel’s death, I might’ve passed out from fright in this situation. But then Mortimer tossed my enemy into the flames—for no other reason than because he “owed me one.” He didn’t scare me so much anymore. That didn’t mean I enjoyed his prickly company. I just wasn’t waiting for him to kill me.
We walked at a fairly brisk pace, thanks to Mortimer’s long legs and no-nonsense speed. As we passed that same spot in the hallway, the tingling pull of familiarity hit me again, a fresh wave of connection, like safety and imminent danger jumbled together. My legs slowed until Mortimer was dragging me.
“What’s the matter?” he snapped, dissecting me with a quizzical glare.
Opening my mouth to explain, I paused, considering how I’d explain this without sounding crazy. I decided that I wouldn’t. It was probably nothing. Just me, slowly losing my mind. “Nothing. Just tired.”
With a harrumph and a sharp tug of my arm, we continued on, turning right to take the hall with the glass wall. Sofie’s red hair stood out by the tree like a flare.
“I remember coming here when Nathan was alive. This was his house, you know,” Mortimer explained, his eyes flickering to Sofie but not stopping.
“Yeah, Sofie mentioned it earlier.”
“I used to come here to see Veronique. She spent a lot of time with her sister. Those two were inseparable. I’ve never seen two sisters so connected, so committed to each other’s happiness.” Committed. What would she do if she knew her dear sister was in the clutches of the enemy right now? Tighter and tighter, the knots in my abdomen constricted. I gave one last glance to Sofie before we passed the hallway and she was out of sight again.
“After Sofie ki—” Mortimer stopped himself midsentence. “After Nathan died and Veronique decided to be mummified, we left this place for North America. I haven’t stepped foot in here since.” As we continued on his stance loosened up slightly, his strides more casual. We entered the foyer. “Those were happier times. I’m glad Sofie kept everything in order. Veronique was always so fond of this place … She’ll be happy to see it again.”
I cautioned a glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s unusually chatty and cooperative. Something didn’t add up. “Why are you still here?” I blurted out, quickly adding, “I thought you hated Sofie.”
Mortimer’s dark eyes flickered down to me and he didn’t bother to hide the smirk. “You know, you remind me of a four-year-old sometimes, with your na?ve and brazen outbursts.”
I pursed my lips, a flash of spite taking over my tongue before I could control it. “You know, you remind me of a shifty vampire sometimes, with your cryptic babbling.”
Mortimer’s head fell back as he let out a roar of laughter. A genuine and unexpectedly pleasant-sounding mirth that warmed my spirits temporarily. I don’t remember ever hearing Mortimer laugh!
“You should laugh like that more. You wouldn’t be so scary,” I muttered.
His laughter died down. “I used to laugh all the time when Veronique was alive. It feels foreign now.” He cleared his throat abruptly. “Sofie and I have had our differences, I’ll admit. But I don’t hate her. In fact, I have to say that I admire her. Besides … we’ve been battling her for years now and she always wins.” One slow step after another, we began climbing the stairs with parallel movements. “Fighting that woman does us no good. So I’ve joined forces with her. Given her all my strength, my connection, my trust … my allegiance.”
I slowed to a stop, forcing Mortimer to do the same. “Allegiance? What do you mean? Like … a promise?”
Mortimer’s dark chuckle echoed through the foyer. “No, you twit … When you say it like that, it sounds like the stuff of little girls.” The amusement vanished and he frowned. “But of course, you wouldn’t understand. In this day and age …” He paused. “There was a time when pledging your allegiance meant something. Your honor, your soul, everything you stood for. Humans pledged to kings and queens, to those who reigned, to the mighty. They would die for them. There were some respectable humans in those days. Now …” Mortimer snorted with disgust. “I don’t blame you for not trusting me, Evangeline. I’m glad you don’t. That means you’ve learned something in all of this.” Dark eyes glinted as they appraised me. “But I’m going to tell you a secret. Something important.”
He had my full attention. Not only was I amazed that Mortimer had spoken to me for this length of time, but now he was about to divulge secrets?
“Though you may not believe it, vampires are a species of great principle. If you can get one of us to grant you our loyalty, it is unequivocal. You can harness their power. You. Will. Reign.” His free hand balled up into a fist and pressed against his chest. “It’s as if something inside binds us to that loyalty. It becomes ingrained in all that we are, in everything that we do. Get a vampire to pledge their allegiance to you and you will never have to worry about them harming you. They are yours. For life.”
I frowned. “For life? Just because you swore?” I tried to wrap my mind around the concept. For life. Wow. Mortimer had basically sworn fealty to Sofie for eternity? If he was telling the truth, he was no longer a threat to her. In a roundabout way, I guess that meant he wouldn’t be a threat to me, either …
“But Viggo … do you trust him to keep his word?” I asked.
Mortimer smiled wryly. “Believe me, I wondered. I still wonder sometimes, but I witnessed it. I know the uncontrollable pull that I feel inside me is the same one inside of him. Sofie offered him sole custody of Veronique’s pendant in exchange for him staying out of her hair. He seemed happy with that.” I didn’t doubt it, given I hadn’t once seen him without it proudly displayed on his person.
“But … why do it in the first place? You’re now at Sofie’s mercy, aren’t you?” I pressed, bewildered by this whole concept.
“Well, to be frank, we didn’t have much choice,” Mortimer explained. He tugged at my arm, forcing me to move up the stairs once again. “After the way the two of us have behaved, Sofie was ready to set us both on fire and peg it on the sorceresses when Veronique awoke. I can’t believe she didn’t. But she didn’t. She gave us a choice. Pledge our allegiance to her, or die. That she gave us an option … well, Sofie finally has earned my full respect.” His head shook reproachfully. “If Mage has taught us anything—if that disastrous attack back in Manhattan has taught us anything—it’s that we must work together. We can’t be going off with our own agendas, with our own plans. We end up sabotaging ourselves. We need a united front against our enemies and to free Veronique.”
Veronique. Again, like the prick of a needle in my flesh, that name. A flash of a menacing witch looming over me, a whip gripped firmly in her hand, posed to strike, turned my blood to ice. With a quick jerk of my head, I tried to dislodge the name and the image. It was a dream … it was a dream … it was a dream … but … what if it wasn’t a dream? No … Max said I hadn’t left. But … what if Veronique was being tortured and Sofie were to find out that I knew? If Mortimer and Viggo discovered that I knew and I kept it from them?
I eyed Mortimer warily. What would he do? Would this so-called fealty to Sofie be enough to protect me by association? I doubted it. But what if …
“How do I do that?” I asked in a whisper, almost afraid to voice the words, that he’d somehow read my intentions in them.
He frowned. “Do what?”
“Get a vampire to swear their allegiance to me.”
Mortimer’s snort echoed through the foyer. “Simple. You don’t.” We reached the top of the stairs. “None of us in our right minds would ever give you that much power over us. But I’ve felt your mousy stares on me for the last day, as if I’m about to stab you in the back, so I thought I’d give you some peace of mind.” Mortimer sighed as we walked down the dimly lit hall toward my room. “No … Sofie is not our enemy. She is honorable and she’ll hold up her end of the bargain. It would do us good to remember that.” I wasn’t sure if he was stating a fact or saying it aloud to convince himself. Either way, I remained silent, content to see if Mortimer would share anything else.
“Those other witches and the People’s Sentinel. They are the enemy. They must be stopped.” Pure hatred cast its shadow on Mortimer’s handsome face. Plain as day, even in the darkness of the dimly lit corridor. “Every last one of them will die, I promise you that. That’s what I should’ve been doing all these years, instead of hiding. I should have been gathering information, planning for the attack. I won’t make that mistake again. Mark my words, every last one of those spineless cowards will die.”
I blanched, my eyes flickering to Julian’s closed door. The Sentinel’s closer than you think, Mortimer …
We stopped in front of my room. Mortimer released my arm and reached for the handle. I expected only a gruff goodnight or a vanishing act, but instead, he shocked me with his next words. “I’m sorry about what they did to your friend. She was a nice girl. Quiet. Much more mature than that other one … It’s a shame.”
I stared at his striking but remote face, searching for a twitch, a quirk, some indication of an ulterior motive, some reason why he would show compassion. Nothing. He slowly reached back to scratch his head as he looked off into nothingness, murmuring, “Terrible thing to witness for him …”
“Bishop,” I said, knowing full well that Bishop’s name was not lost to Mortimer. Vampires were a lot of things. Forgetful was not one of them. He chose not to say it.
“I understand why Sofie has to keep him bound. If I had witnessed Veronique burn like that …” Mortimer’s teeth gritted tightly.
“It was pretty terrible, Mortimer,” I agreed, wincing as the memory of Fiona’s lifeless eyes—once a lively violet—flashed through my mind. The second the words were out of my mouth, I realized my mistake, what I had all but admitted to. Mortimer certainly didn’t miss it, his head cocked to one side as a funny quirk pulled at his brow. “For Bishop to see, I mean,” I added quickly, dropping my gaze to the ground. Stupid Evie! Thank heavens for the Tribe’s magic protecting me from Mortimer’s emotional dissection.
After a moment, I peeked up to see Mortimer nodding slowly, his mind somewhere else again. Was he … empathizing? Was that what all this was? That’s when it dawned on me. Mortimer didn’t drag me away from Bishop because he was annoyed. The entire situation pained him, igniting a compassionate side he had so successfully buried and had little desire to show, I’m sure.
Mortimer pushed open the door to my room and gave a casual wave forward, prompting me to enter. As I submitted, his eyes drifted over to my bed where Max lay stretched out, yellow irises resting lazily on us but not bothering to so much as lift his head. Mortimer snorted. “Look at what my vicious creation has become … You’ve turned him into a stuffed toy!”
“And an incredibly annoying one at that …,” I grumbled, earning a growl of disapproval from Max.
A tiny smile passed over Mortimer’s lips, so fleeting I almost missed it. “Well, I’m glad the giant mutt has served you better than he did me.” Again, another shocking admission coming from Mortimer. When the transfer of “ownership” of Max had happened—a bizarre and surprising event—Mortimer was, at first, livid but he seemed to have recovered rather quickly. Perhaps it was because, deep down, Mortimer didn’t want me to die, and he knew if Max was my constant shadow, it might help avoid that situation.
Mortimer turned to leave.
“You know,” I began, “I …”
“Yes?” Eyes like black coals peered down at me.
I knew what I wanted to say but was it wise? It didn’t matter, I decided. I knew that it was important to say for the simple fact that I meant it. “For what it’s worth … I hope Veronique picks you.” If she’s not tortured to death, I silently added, my lungs tightening.
His face was placid. He said nothing, just stared at me for a long moment until I wondered if I’d spoken or just thought the words. Then, with a curt nod, he disappeared.
And there goes the Mortimer I know and love … I pushed the door closed just as a yawn escaped. Though disappointed it had been Mortimer and not Caden walking me back to my room, at least now I understood why Caden wasn’t here in the first place. It gave me some small level of consolation.
“Who’s Lilly?” I asked Max as I scuttled into bed.
A vampire.
“I know that, Max,” I muttered, rolling my eyes at the ceiling. “But who is she and why does she hate Viggo so much?”
Really? Someone hates Viggo? Shocking …
I let out a loud sigh of exasperation. Clearly, Max was in no mood for anything beyond infuriating me. He was mad about my banter with Mortimer, no doubt. Still …“You’re lucky I need your warmth, dog. Keep your fleas to yourself.” I smiled with satisfaction at his responding grumble. Closing my eyes, I played back the night’s discoveries—this Lilly vampire, the ability to control a vampire, that weird déjà vu connection in the hallway. To top it off, the more-than-civil conversation I’d just had with a nine-hundred-year-old vampire who would’ve killed me only days ago. That last one allowed me a breath of relief. That was, until I remembered he was yet another person I was betraying with my secrets. Tighter and tighter the tension cinched around my organs, grabbing hold and squeezing until I was sure something would implode. Sleep finally came, just as the sky began to lighten outside, as I was wondering how long before my worries would seize my heart completely.
***
I woke to snowflakes drifting down from a blanket of gray clouds outside my window. I didn’t move right away, content to lay perfectly still and memorize the calm, magical scene, imagining that I was inside a snow globe of old world Paris. Calm and safe, free of aching muscles and throbbing neck wounds, toxic Tribe magic, and a looming war. I could handle living in that bubble. As long as Caden was in it … Caden. Why was it impossible to go five minutes without flashes of those jade eyes entering my mind, without wishing I could see him? Was this normal? How do people function? This was borderline obsessive!
I breathed deeply. That helped marginally. It also highlighted to me that, even with more than ten hours’ rest, I felt worse than I had yesterday. At least I hadn’t had another Veronique nightmare.
The bed jostled and creaked as a heavy weight eased off it. I know you’re awake. It’s past noon. I’ve been listening to your stomach rumble for the past hour, Max announced.
I didn’t hazard a move, even though Max’s announcement of the late hour surprised me.
Come on! You’ve barely eaten. You need to eat if you’re going to regain your strength.
I let out a small groan. Max was right, of course. My stomach growled like it was going to turn zombie on itself, looking for food.
Come on! I’m aging here! Max exclaimed.
“Stop being so dramatic,” I grumbled. “I know werebeasts don’t age.”
His claws clicked against the hardwood floor as he rounded the bed. Stopping directly in front of me, he leaned down to prod me with a wet nose. I’m sure Caden’s waiting for you downstairs.
“Ugh … You and your evil dog tricks,” I muttered. But his ploy worked. The thought of seeing Caden ignited my will power. All I had to do was get my broken body up. Shaking my covers off, I threw my arm around Max’s strong neck to pull myself out of bed. Weak-kneed and bleary-eyed, I grabbed a fluffy gray sweater and skinny jeans on my way to the washroom, a brief flicker of satisfaction warming me. I secretly loved having my stylish vampiress dressing me again. As long as it didn’t involve poodles, that is.
Walking the hall toward the foyer, I could see that someone had transformed the place from an exquisite chateau to one decked out for a holiday magazine photo shoot while I slept. Miles of garland trailed the railings, festive wreaths hung artistically from every sconce, topiaries with frosted sugarplums adorned side tables alongside simple yet elegant pillar candles. Steroid-fed white poinsettias rested in bunches of three around the entrance and at the two main hall entrances off of the left and right. Warm scents of apples and cinnamon wafted through the air. It was magical. It was excessive. It was like Christmas threw up on the chateau.
“How in the world …” I began but my words trailed off, in awe. Had I seen any of this last night? No! “How could she have done this in a matter of hours? It’s … she’d need an army! It’s just … impossible!”
Max snorted. Really? You’re still using the word impossible when it involves Sofie?
Unable to wrap my mind around the transformation, I shook my head, wondering if Sofie did in fact have an army—an army of Oompa-Loompas packed away in cupboards, waiting to serve her every whim. It wouldn’t surprise me.
I followed Max through a maze of unexplored decorated hallways until we pushed through a door into a toasty kitchen filled with the delicious scent of gingerbread. Two mature, plump ladies fiddled over a large stove, prattling away in French. They turned to offer me toothy grins, echoing simultaneously, “Bonjour!”
“Uh … bonjour,” I repeated. They nodded and smiled politely at me, and then turned back to their simmering pots. Clearly, a conversation with me wasn’t going to happen.
“Where’s Caden?” I whispered to Max, trying not to make it too obvious that I was talking to a dog.
Before he could answer, Sofie entered from the side door. “You’re awake! Finally!” she sang out with a broad grin. Her mirth was short-lived, though. Her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled as if she had spotted a cockroach scurry past.
My face scrunched in alarm. “What?”
She said nothing, her minty irises zeroing in on my face. The hairs on the back of my neck stood as a strange tingling sensation took over my body, like a thousand tiny little fingers pricking my skin, unable to break through.
“What are you doing to me?” I asked, a touch of hysteria in my voice.
The tingling vanished. Sofie smoothed over her face and her typical calm, unreadable expression took over. “You could feel that?”
I nodded.
A tiny twitch of her upper lip was the only reaction. “How are you feeling?” she asked coolly.
“Okay, I guess. My neck is starting to heal,” I gestured to the uncovered bite marks. Sofie strolled over with quick, even strides to inspect them closely. Her mouth curved down in a satisfied expression. “Good. Aside from that, how are you feeling?”
I shrugged. “Tired, I guess. And hungry. Otherwise, I’m okay.”
She peered deep into my eyes. “Are you sure?”
Warning bells went off in my head, another bubble of hysteria rising. “Why shouldn’t I be? What did you do earlier? What’s going on?”
Sofie frowned, shaking her head. “No reason … Just a test,” she answered curtly.
“Were you testing the Tribe’s magic? Is it still there?” A second of excitement churned through me. No more toxic Evie! No more lethal danger to Caden should he slip! No more fragile humanity! The excitement was followed by the plummet of dread. Without the Tribe’s magic, they’d be able to read my emotions. They’d discover my secrets … I was a fish out of water, flopping around, desperately searching for safety.
Another long pause. “Yes, it’s still there, but …” This was so unlike Sofie. Normally her answers were quick and decisive, whether true or not. I waited for the rest of the answer but when none came, I couldn’t help but feel exasperated. “But what? Sofie?”
After an uncomfortable pause, Sofie shrugged, waving her black-painted fingernails dismissively. “I’m not sure yet … Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s nothing.” The last line felt like an afterthought, a flighty, unconvincing one, but I caught the sharp glare of warning that she threw Max’s way. Before I could question it, Sofie was prattling off instructions in French to the two ladies. When done, she turned back to me. “Did you sleep well?”
“No … I was up for a while because of a bad dream,” I admitted, and then wanted nothing more than to change topics so I didn’t have to think about Veronique. “What’s with all the decorations?”
“Oh … that.” Sofie shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “It’s almost Christmas.” But then she smiled warmly. “I figured you should have a normal Christmas since you’ve had so many lousy ones.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Normal? Isn’t there a group of vampires showing up later today to stop the end of the world?”
Sofie grimaced. “You heard about that.”
“Yeah, Mortimer and Mage filled me in last night,” I explained as a hot mug of coffee and a freshly baked croissant suddenly appeared before me. The shorter and chunkier of the two ladies smiled at me. The simple act stirred memories and an ache inside me. “I miss Leo, Sofie.”
I looked up to see sadness cloud her eyes. “Me too,” she whispered, her finger tracing the swirling pattern on the marble countertop. “He was a good friend. Rest assured, he’s with Maeve now. Happy. Away from this mess.”
I took a sip of my coffee, wondering if that were true. I didn’t recall anything about vampires and magic and the illusive Fates casting down judgment on the world in the Bible. Was there even such thing as heaven and God? Could I believe such things anymore?
Yes … I decided there had to be. I needed to believe Leo was with Maeve. Otherwise, my dear grandfatherly guardian had died for nothing and that knowledge, if nothing else, would break me. I forced the thought out of my head. “What happened to the rest of them? Are Magda and Martha and the other beasts safe?”
Sofie inclined her head. “I thought Max would have told you.”
That’s right, I realized. Max would know, given he was connected to the other dogs subconsciously. His brothers, who he’d spent four hundred years with. “No, he didn’t,” I glared sharply at him.
Don’t look at me like that. You never asked … Max responded.
My hand flew to cover my mouth. He was right. I hadn’t bothered to ask. I was too wrapped up in myself. What a rotten, selfish person I was turning into.
Sofie’s voice broke into my silent scolding. “They’re safe. Kiril and Ivan got them out of there before they froze to death.”
I felt my face squish up. “Kiril and Ivan …?”
“Yes. The two property keepers who helped keep the cabin running.” Sofie’s brow quirked in amusement.
“Oh …” I finally realized who she was referring to. “Yeti One and Yeti Two.”
A soft musical laughter filled the kitchen. “Is that what you called them?”
I replied with a smile. That was a little joke between Julian and me. Little jokes like that kept us sane while in isolation. But my smile dropped when the memories pushed forward.
“What would be more appropriate? Werewolf One and Werewolf Two?” I asked, my voice thick with sarcasm. Max had divulged that little tidbit of a secret randomly on the same day, just before discovering that Valentina was possessed by Ursula.
If Sofie sensed my displeasure, she didn’t let on, grinning broadly. “The wolves owed me a favor, so I asked them to watch over you. They know those mountains better than anyone.”
A favor. Everyone owes Sofie a favor. I sipped my coffee as I pondered that. Sofie was like the Godfather. Everyone owed her a favor and she wasn’t shy about collecting. Leo had owed her a favor for saving his wife, and look where he ended up … I bit my tongue before I said something I might regret. Sofie genuinely hadn’t intended such a tragic end for her friend. All the same, it had happened.
“What’d you do for the wolves?” I asked, pushing my sadness away, replacing it with curiosity.
“Werewolves were all but extinct from the world for a time. They had existed for centuries—another Causal Enchantment gone wrong.” Of course … Sofie slid my plate toward me, reminding me that I should eat. “They’re rare. New wolves are created by the bite of the alpha male. There’s only ever one alpha male for the entire race. He leads the entire pack and, basically, he creates his pack. When he dies, the role passes on to the next male in succession, the oldest of the alpha’s offspring.”
“So what happened?”
“Well, the vampires knew how fragile the race was. If you take out the alpha male and its offspring, the entire race will dwindle. So the vampires went after them. They succeeded in killing the last male wolf about three hundred years ago.
“About a hundred years ago, a young woman tracked me down. She was a descendant of the last alpha male and was determined to reclaim her lost heritage. How she found me, I don’t know. How any of them keep finding me to solve their problems …” Sofie rolled her eyes.
I giggled. “You’re famous. You’re like the Madonna of the supernatural world.”
Sofie snorted. “Maybe … I used my magic to isolate the werewolf gene and create a male replica, thus turning her into an alpha and bringing the species back.” She explained it so matter-of-factly that it sounded like a basic “baking soda plus vinegar equals cool fizz” science experiment. I gaped at her, my mouth hanging open.
“What?”
“There’s nothing you can’t do!” I said.
A glimmer of despair sailed across her face. “I hope you’re right …” Then, as typically mercurial as Sofie was, the sadness disappeared, replaced by a stubborn set of her jaw. “Eat!”
I finished the food, thinking about Yeti One in wolf form. A beautiful, fierce creature standing stock-still, quietly observing us in the mountains that day, just before Ursula attacked. He didn’t growl or snap at us; he didn’t attack. He was just there, peacefully watching.
“Why would the vampires care about werewolves?” I asked with a mouthful of flaky pastry. “They seemed pretty harmless to me.”
Sofie chuckled, shaking her head in that Oh-Evangeline-you’re-so-na?ve way. “I wouldn’t call them harmless. They aren’t immortal or as super-powered as vampires, but they’re tough as titanium. And if they get a bite in beforehand … it’s fatal.”
“Really? I thought the only way to kill a vampire was to take their heart out or burn them. Or burn their heart …” I tried to remember what Amelie and Fiona told me. “Something involving burning and hearts.”
“Yes … and a werewolf bite. It’s so rare that we don’t normally even worry about it, and no one worried about it once they were extinct.”
“Well, if it’s so rare, why would the vampires bother? Sounds risky …”
Sofie smirked. “Did I forget to mention that Viggo was the one who did the eradicating?”
My forehead dropped to the counter dramatically. “Oh …” Now it made sense. Anything maniacal involving Viggo made sense.
“Of course, if Viggo hadn’t, I’d imagine the witches would have sooner or later,” Sofie added.
“Why? Does a wolf bite kill them too?”
Sofie shook her head. “They don’t like anything they can’t control. Wolves aren’t easily influenced by their magic.”
I sighed heavily. So much hunting and killing for both the witches and the vampires. If they spent less time trying to kill and more time minding their own business, maybe we could avoid this entire war! A new thought dawned on me. “What did Viggo say when he found out you brought werewolves back?” Surely he couldn’t have been happy about Sofie undoing his work.
Sofie smiled, defiance twinkling in her eyes. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough. They’re on their way here to help us … Eat up!” Sofie slapped the counter as one of ladies slid a bowl of cinnamon-laced, creamy rice pudding in front of me. “Giselle has been stirring that pudding for two hours!” Sofie hopped off her stool and rhymed off another sentence to the ladies. On her way out, she threw over her shoulder, “Caden’s in the glass room, when you’re finished.”
At the mention of Caden, I scrambled to my feet, ready to dash off after her. With remarkably swift movements—as though expecting my reaction—the two plump ladies moved to stand opposite me, arms folded across their chests, morphing from sweet French cooks into stern-faced food sentries, guarding over me until I finished my breakfast.