Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(92)

A stifled gasp drew her attention as Angie clapped a hand to her mouth, her face frozen in horror.

"You're a monster," Victoria whispered.

"Am I? All's fair in love and war, Tori." His voice turned hard. "Make your decision."

"I'd rather die than be with you."

"That can be arranged. Don't push me, Tori. You won't like the result. Your cat was just a taste of what I am capable of. What did your friend Tony say in the bar? We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You decide." He paused, his voice almost gentle. "Think it through and you'll see ... you don't have a choice."

The echoing of the door closing was ominous in the silence, like the toll of a death bell.





CHRISTIAN STARED DULLY at the ringing phone. The caller ID said "private number." He stared at the flashing screen for several seconds before flipping it open.

"Hello?" a voice said, "may I speak to Christian Devereux please?"

His voice was dry and curt. "Who is this?"

"My name is Angie, I'm a friend of Tori's," she said. At the sound of Victoria's name, Christian clenched the phone so tightly that he almost crushed it.

"Do you know where she is?" he rasped.

"I can't talk long but she's in danger. She asked me to call you. Meet me at sixty-eighth and Madison tonight in New York at midnight and I'll explain. I know you have no reason to trust me but I'm begging you to. I got your number from her phone. She needs you. I'm sorry. I have to go. He'll kill me if he finds out. Please come."

The call disconnected.

Christian stared at his cell phone with unseeing eyes. He'd come back from France a day after Victoria, and ever since then, he'd been haunted by the feeling that something was wrong. He'd gone to Victoria's apartment, and when he'd seen Leto, his heart had dropped to his feet. Christian had gently brushed his mind, finding nothing but pain-filled, glazed green eyes for his efforts.

It was at that soul-destroying instant that Christian's world crumbled, because he knew that Leto's unresponsive deadness, could only mean one thing—something or someone very powerful had hurt him on the inside.

Until Christian had received the phone call from Angie, he'd even considered enlisting Lucian's help! In his momentary panic at not even being able to communicate with Victoria mentally and after seeing Leto's crippled state, he had been teetering on the brink of revealing to Lucian that Victoria was the witch from the prophecy just so that Lucian would want to find her.

Christian had never been more terrified in his life that something unimaginable had happened, and he didn't care that Angie's mysterious call could possibly be a threat. It was the only lead he had after days of waiting. He would follow it even if it cost him his undead life.

Christian arrived in the city in not much time at all, and waited a block away from where Angie had told him to meet her. He recognized her as she walked to the corner looking for him, glancing at her watch and looking around as if she were afraid of something ... or someone. Christian observed her carefully for several minutes to see if she was alone.

Angie paced and glanced at her watch again; it was ten minutes past midnight. As she turned around to leave, she found herself face to face with a leather-clad, white-faced Christian Devereux. Angie stepped back, her eyes wide and her hands automatically at her throat, but Christian ignored the instinctive response and waited for her to make the first move.

"It's not safe here," she said, starting to walk down Madison Avenue.

"Where is she?"

"Gabriel," she said. Christian stiffened immediately. "He's holding her captive." Christian felt the rage in him boil just from hearing the name.

"Can't she get out? Use her magic?" he asked, earning a swift look from Angie.

"No," she said.

She stopped walking and pulled Christian into the shadow of a building. "Did Tori ever tell you anything about me?"

"No. Why?"

"I was the one who told Gabriel about her, about what she was," she said. "I'm not a witch like Tori or a warlock like Gabriel, but I can see what people are."

Christian grasped her arm roughly as he whirled her to face him. Angie winced as if the movement were painful. His face was harsh in the darkened shadows.

"Hang on a second. First of all, Gabriel is a warlock?" Angie nodded reluctantly. "And you can see what people are? What does that mean? Can you see what I am?"

"Yes," she said. Christian wanted to hear her to say it.

"What am I?"

"Undead."

In an uncanny silence, they stared at each other under the black sky. Christian's expression was unfathomable. His mind raced at the power this girl would hold in the supernatural world. In the wrong hands, her gifts could be catastrophic. Angie remained nervous, as if she expected Gabriel to come racing around the corner at any moment. She kept shifting, her movements restless and agitated.

"Does Gabriel know about me? What I am?"

"No!" she said. "You only came into the picture when he saw the two of you together. He was in such a terrible rage. It lasted for days and days. You d ... don't understand how he feels about her. He thinks she belongs to him. You took something from him that he thought was his. He asked me what you looked like and whether you were a threat to him."