by K. A. Tucker
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 f
oot 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 naïve 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.”