by K. A. Tucker
“Seriously? When? How?”
Lilly grinned with pleasure. “She caught him in Labrador, Canada. Not without a battle and, um, a bit of a scene. She’s covered it up, though. They’re on their way here.” The grin disappeared. “I don’t think she’s very happy about us being here. I had to tell her about Veronique, Evangeline. I hope you’re okay with that. And she has demanded that, under no circumstances, are any of us supposed to go into Viggo’s place.”
“Did you tell her about Julian?” A head shake confirmed that she hadn’t. “Well, this’ll be awkward,” I muttered wryly, wondering if the blood-sucking Mary Poppins would keep her cool when she found out.
“Not if we get in and out of there before she arrives.” Lilly disappeared but not without me catching her excited little smile.
Caden rolled onto his side, his head propped up on his elbow, quietly toying with my hair while I guzzled the milk. Once I finished, he set the glass on the nightstand and pulled me down with more force than usual, pressing himself against me, setting my head against his chest. His fingers stroked my hair soothingly.
“Oh, and you’re not going in there, by the way,” he said.
My snort echoed through the empty room. “Oh, and yes, I am, by the way. You need me to get through that secret passageway and break the Merth binding so you can get through.”
“We’ll have you go through and then the wolves will bring you back here,” he fired back.
I felt my face screw up. “No, you won’t! And besides, you don’t know what Veronique looks like.”
“We’ll look for the tortured woman,” he answered calmly, his fingers coiling into mine, still relaxed, sure of his plans.
“She won’t go with you,” I countered.
With a loud chortle, he reminded me, “She’ll go with anyone offering to get her out of there.”
I opened my mouth to argue but then stopped. He was right. And I was getting nowhere with this. “You are not going in there without me. I’m not sitting around like some inept human while you go fix my mess!” I finished my angry decree with a stifled yawn.
“How is this your mess, Evangeline?” Caden asked, shifting me so he could see my face, his own a picture of bewilderment.
“Because if I hadn’t agreed to get up on that platform, Veronique would still be in her tomb, safe and sound. That’s how!”
“Yeah, and you’d be dead,” Caden’s voice turned cold and sharp suddenly. “And then Sofie and I would have gone ballistic. There’s no way Sofie would ever let Veronique out then, just to spite Viggo. She’ll get over the abuse, Evangeline. When they turn her, she’ll—”
“She can’t be turned, Caden! She’s like me! And what happens when Viggo and Mortimer find out about that?”
Caden’s lips pursed. “Sofie will figure it out. She always figures it out.”
“Yeah! At what cost?”
He shrugged. “She’ll figure it out!”
I threw my hands up in the air. “Well, look at you. Mr. Has An Answer For Everything! Except for one small problem—Sofie doesn’t know about Veronique so how can she figure it out?”
Caden wavered, an instant answer not coming to him this time. I had cornered him with reality. His brow furrowed deeply as he thought. “I don’t know how, but she will.”
“I’m going in there with you,” I said defiantly.
With a grin, Caden’s hands curled around my shoulders, pulling me back down to rest next to him, chuckling as he planted a kiss on my forehead.
“What’s so funny?” I muttered.
“You. Stubborn. You’re sweet, remember?”
I rolled my eyes and shook him off, turning onto my side, my back to him, to sulk. “I’m not sweet. I have a wraith and ancient vampiress sworn to me and I’m poisonous to you. I’m deadly.”
Caden burst out laughing. I rolled back over and took aim at his chest, punching him hard. Only I had no gusto to it, my arms suddenly feeling like water. That earned another laugh. Pushing a few strands of hair off my forehead, he leaned in to whisper in my ear, his lips grazing my lobe, “Like I said—sweet.”
I gazed up at his face—so perfect, so real … so blurry? My eyelids suddenly felt like magnets, pulling together despite every effort to keep them apart. I felt my body sink deeper into the mattress, seeping into the springs and stuffing. Tingles rippled through me.
“Why am I so …?” I began to ask but my words dropped off. The milk … “Damn it, Caden …” I cursed in garbled speech as I drifted off into a drug-induced sleep.
That familiar prickle, now instantly recognizable, coursed through my body. It was coupled with fogginess this time. I blinked and narrowed my eyes, straining to carve through it. Would Veronique know something about Julian? The haze finally dissipated to reveal a dimly lit chandelier, the light dancing off crystals. I knew that light. It was my old room at Viggo’s. Not the first room—the princess suite designed to buy my adoration—but the blood-red room meant to remind me that I was a prisoner.
“Veronique?” I forced her lips to move so she would know I was there.
“Oui? Evangeline?” came the sickly response.
A shock of unease rippled through my chest. “What’s happened? You sound worse than before.”
Of its own accord, by Veronique’s control, my arm lifted up to within my vision. I gasped as I saw the fresh batch of black and blue bruising and angry burns. “They’ve started again?”
“Yes, but it’s nothing compared to what we’re going to do to your friend here,” a wicked voice sang out. With difficulty, I rolled my head to the side, toward the voice. Bile instantly shot into my throat. There, slumped over in a chair next to Imogen, was a bloody, battered, gagged, barely conscious Julian.
Panic detonated inside me. They had Julian.
Imogen stalked forward. “You will come here at once—with Sofie, with those other leeches. Bring all of them or both of your friends die. Do you understand?”
I froze, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to breathe. My face flew to the side as she slapped it. “Answer me!” she shrieked.
The stinging pain in my already injured jaw lasted long after I found myself back in the condo room. Night lurked outside. City lights streamed in through the window, allowing me to discern shapes and shadows. Wraith still sat in his chair. Caden was gone.
And they had Julian.
Scrambling out of bed, I stumbled a few steps, feeling a rush slam into my head. What was wrong with me? Oh, yeah. They drugged me, I thought bitterly as I headed toward the door, reminding myself never to take a drink from any of these vampires again. Still, I needed to warn them. We needed to get in there, to rescue Julian … My hand faltered on the doorknob. Wait a minute. I was doing exactly what the witches wanted me to do. Imogen asked me to lead all the vampires there. If I stormed out there and told them what I’d learned, I’d escort them right into Imogen’s trap. To their deaths. Stupid Evangeline. Think!
I slumped against the nearest wall and sank until I was curled up on the floor, my forehead in my hands. What the hell was I supposed to do now? What choice did I make? Did I say nothing and let Imogen torture Julian and Veronique to death? Or did I run out there and sign everyone else up for their own deaths? Knots upon knots constricted until my insides were a grotesque mass of anxiety.
Maybe … There was one other option. The logical choice. The least risky for everyone.
If I could just get out of here without being noticed … I quietly got to my feet, now intent on making less noise than the dead. Luckily, this wasn’t the average closet condo and my room was far from the main living area.
“Wraith?” I hissed.
“Yes?” came the monotone reply.
“Did you see any way out of this place other than the front door? Somewhere we could sneak out without everyone noticing?” Wraith had scoured the entire condo upon entry, taking inventory of all potential exits. I couldn’t be more thankful for his standard protocol than at this particular momen
t.
“Yes. There is a service entrance off the end of this hall.”
Perfect. “And were you paying attention to Caden when he explained how to get to the underground garage? All those tunnels we needed to take?” I silently berated myself for tuning him out.
“I have entered it into memory.”
I released the lungs full of air. I had my own personal Terminator. Finally. A bit of luck my way. Silently slipping on my winter coat, I crept to the door on my tiptoes. “Come on, Wraith,” I mouthed, cracking open the door. “And don’t make a sound.”
He was on his feet immediately. “Where will we be going?”
My finger flew to my mouth, to silence him. He looked at me blankly. “Be quiet! We’re going to get Julian and Veronique. And we’re doing it alone.”
15. Impasse—Sofie
I stood with my mouth agape, speechless.
“Yes, it’s been rather interesting, watching your precious little human cuckold you,” Incendia purred, a malicious smile curving his lips. Unda and Ventus joined in with a chortle that pained my eardrums.
I finally found my voice again. “I don’t believe you.”
“Really? It’s quite basic,” Terra began. “Evangeline was linked to Veronique through that pendant. You knew that. When the Tribe released her from its curse, it also released Veronique from hers. The curse of her tomb. I’m surprised you didn’t put two and two together. I expected more from you.”
“That was not a curse,” I began breathlessly. “I did that intentionally to preserve her, to—”
“We considered it a curse,” Ventus cut in flatly. “And so we ensured she was released.”
I stood silently, replaying all that I knew of the spell. Chills coursed through my body as realization set in. If this was true, that meant the same magic coursing through Evangeline’s body was in Veronique. She could be turning into Walking Death. She certainly couldn’t be touched by magic. She couldn’t be turned … My knees buckled beneath me and I crumbled into a heap on my pedestal, my hands holding my forehead. After all this. After all we had struggled through. No … no, it couldn’t be real.
I looked up to see Incendia’s eyebrow quirked as he looked from me to Terra, reading my mind. “No? Not real?” With a flourish of his hand, my surroundings morphed again. I heard feet splashing through shallow water a split second before two forms rushed around the bend. I frowned as Evangeline and Wraith passed by me.
“Why are you in the sewer?” I asked. They didn’t answer. They couldn’t hear me. I wasn’t really there. “What are they doing in the sewers, Terra?” I demanded angrily. “Where exactly are they going?” I already knew the answer. I recognized these sewers in particular. They were just below Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. If one knew the path, they would lead right into Viggo’s garage.
The vision blurred and I was back on my pedestal in front of the Fates. “Well, since you asked,” Incendia stepped forward, thoroughly enjoying being the bearer of bad news. “Your spell over that love-struck Bishop failed miserably. He took off to New York to seek vengeance, your dear friend Mage is chasing after him, allowing this troubled foursome the opportunity to run off to New York and try to change the fate of the world. I believe that about covers it.”
“No …” I whispered. Something didn’t make sense, though. “But why is she alone?”
“She’s not alone,” Terra reminded me.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” I rolled my eyes. “Why is she with Wraith and not the others?”
“Because she cares greatly for them and doesn’t want them to die,” Terra explained. “Quite gallant of her, don’t you agree?”
“So … are you ready? We’re granting you one request. One spell. But what will you choose? There are so many fires to put out, aren’t there?” Incendia’s hands clasped together triumphantly.
I set my jaw as I leveled him with a look. “No.”
A small twitch of his lip—perhaps amusement, perhaps irritation—was the only reaction my denial triggered.
“Are you sure?” The space changed again. I was now trailing behind Evangeline and Wraith as they crept up the stairs from the underground garage in Viggo’s place.
God, Evangeline! Why must you torture me like this? I chased after them as Wraith pushed through the door, as they entered the atrium, the destruction as vivid as I remembered it, right down to the heaps of charred bodies, to the cobblestone I’d torn up during my magical tantrum. Only now the pristine statue that had withstood more than a century, cocooning my sister, lay in chunks.
I didn’t get to spend long mourning that, given the other big difference in the atrium. The army of sorceresses. All staggered through the courtyard. All eyes locked on Evangeline.
All with flames at the ready.
They would kill her.
“Evangeline! Get out of there!” I screamed, knowing my words were heard by no one but the Fates. I watched in horror as she stole through the atrium quietly, heading toward the red doors. What was she doing? Couldn’t she and Wraith see the danger in front of them? I inhaled sharply when I realized that was exactly the problem. The witches had to be using a cloaking spell. They were walking straight into a trap.
“Evangeline!” I screamed out, stepping forward. The mirage fractured and I heard little crunches beneath my feet. I gasped as I looked down to find dozens of shattered worlds.
“Oh, don’t worry. Only four of those worlds were populated,” Terra confirmed, plucking the horror from my thoughts.
“That is quite the predicament your human is in,” Incendia goaded. I barely heard him. My mind was spinning in dizzying circles. How was this all possible? What was she doing? And how did she manage to evade every vampire and Max to get there? The wolves, I understood. They couldn’t smell her. But the others? Caden would never allow this! No, it couldn’t be real …
“It is real,” Terra purred.
I frowned, already shaking my head, playing the logic out in my head. “Then how did they make it into the atrium thirty seconds after being in the sewer?”
“Time means nothing to us,” Ventus explained. “You think you’ve experienced thirty seconds but really, it could have been five minutes, or five hours, or five days of your time. Regardless, I assure you, what you just saw is happening as we speak.”
“I don’t believe you,” I finally stated. “You’re trying to trick me.”
“Trick you? How? We’re simply giving you a chance! Think of it as a token thank-you for all your hard work and suffering.” Incendia’s thin lips curled. “Go ahead! Do nothing. In a few moments, none of this will matter anymore.”
I looked at Terra—my champion. She didn’t deny it; she didn’t try to convince me. She stood quietly. In that moment, I knew they were telling me the truth. All the turmoil that oozed out of Evangeline … it was over this, over burying such a deep, dark lie. But why would she?
Of course; because I would’ve stormed the place to save Veronique. Or Viggo and Mortimer would have. Either way, it was guaranteed doom. My little girl knew me too well.
“That is correct. Your Evangeline endured quite the internal struggle. She is stronger than we expected.”
“No shit,” I muttered. That girl couldn’t keep a secret for anything. How she had managed to stay silent on this was beyond me. But when Viggo discovered her lie … “Where is Viggo?”
“Do we look like an information center?” Unda retorted, her voice calm but nothing about her words were friendly. “We have agreed to grant you one spell. You can take advantage of that, or you can lose everything.”
16. Operation Veronique—Evangeline
My heart hammered against my ribs as I skulked along the fifth-floor shadows toward the Red Room. “I don’t get it. Where is everyone?”
“I agree. Based on the expected inhabitants, this is suspicious.” Wraith didn’t skulk. He stalked forward with a stiff spine, unfazed by the bizarre emptiness of Viggo’s place. Where my head almost rotated three hundred and sixty de
grees, looking for hidden sorceresses in crannies, his dead blue mirrors stared straight ahead. No fear.
Since sneaking in through the underground garage, we hadn’t crossed a single soul. Hadn’t heard a step, a voice, a yell. Nothing. It was as if the place had been abandoned. Every fiber of me screamed, Get out of here! I ignored it. Not without Veronique. Not without Julian.
As we rounded the last corner before reaching the Red Room, a low sound drifted down the hall. A confusing mixture of dread and relief swarmed me. They were still here.
“Wait,” Wraith commanded pointing to the marble floor. My feet obeyed instantly. With his shoulders back, his strides naturally confident, he pushed open the double doors and disappeared.
“Who are you?” a muffled male voice boomed, followed by a distinct clicking sound—a gun. Wraith didn’t answer. “Stand back or you’re dead!” the man threatened. I pictured him holding the gun up to Wraith’s head.
“What on earth—” a female voice said, but broke off. I imagined her incomplete sentence was courtesy of Wraith’s hand clamping onto her wrist as she fell to her knees, dying. Three ear-splitting shots rang out and I stumbled back, my heart in my throat, wary of stray bullets. With my back pressed against the opposite wall, my heart pounded in my ears as I scanned the halls, straining to listen for footsteps. Surely with all that noise, someone would come. Surely we’d be caught. Surely—
“It is safe now,” Wraith announced, poking his head out, a calm, disinterested expression on his face. Clambering into the Red Room, I almost fell over the male prone on the floor—chest down and face up. A little farther over, I saw the woman, the witch, who had the clear misfortune of believing her magic could stop Wraith, now nothing more than a shrunken corpse. Looking away, I concentrated on the frail shell of a body lying on the king-sized bed, taking in her swollen mess of bruises and burns, her clothes in bloodstained tatters.
“Veronique?” I called out in a strangled gasp. No answer. No flicker of life. Terror’s icy hand seized my organs as I ran to her. I leaned over to inspect her face. “Veronique?” Glossy slits opened to gaze back at me.
