Allegiance (Causal Enchantment #3)(108)
Fiona’s final resting spot. I turned away, unable to witness his pain.
Taking in the four of them—four powerful vampires, unbound—I allowed myself the tiniest hint of optimism, feeling the scale tipping ever so slightly in our favor. All we needed was Sofie, and then maybe we’d have a hope in hell.
Viggo and Mortimer froze midstride, shocked eyes riveted to the broken body in my arms. With a roar, Mortimer dashed forward. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t see the light pink wall or if he didn’t care, but he slammed right into it, stumbling back with a grunt.
“Veronique!” A long pause. “Veronique!” When she didn’t respond to his voice, Mortimer’s hands flew to his forehead.
“She’s alive,” I assured him, searching her wrist for a pulse, praying to God I wasn’t lying. Mortimer turned to Wraith, disdain twisting his mouth. “Don’t you have a specific purpose here?”
“To keep Evangeline from all harm,” Wraith spewed the directive, oblivious to the contempt in Mortimer’s voice.
Mortimer’s hands flew forward with force. “Does this look like she’s safe? Go in there! This magic can’t stop you! Go! Save her!”
With feet planted firmly in their spot, Wraith shot back, “Not possible.”
While their exchange continued, Viggo paced the outer perimeter of the magic bubble like a caged bear, his cold blue irises shifting from Veronique to me to Imogen, assessing.
“How did you get her out?” His whisper was an arctic breeze. My blood ran cold with his question. Leave it to Viggo to get to the heart of the matter. I concentrated on breathing, feeling my chest rise and fall, trying to calm myself. Let this lie die with me …
Imogen shrugged. “I wish we could take credit for it, but she came out on her own, not long after we took over.” A rare flicker of surprise gave Viggo away and Imogen’s dark stare passed over to me. With it, the recognition that I dreaded. “You didn’t tell them, did you?”
She may as well have stomped on my chest a dozen times. My shoulders folded in as I winced, as I felt the blood drain from my face. I couldn’t bear to look up to meet Mortimer’s meaningful glare and so I hung my head, studying Veronique’s ashen face, praying this would blow over, that the significance of her question would be lost to them.
Not a chance …
“Little lamb … did you know that Veronique was out?” Viggo’s glacial hiss cast frostbite into my fingertips. How did I respond? I had no clue. A lie sounded no better than the truth. Bile rose in my throat as I struggled for words.
There were no words.
I bit my tongue and maintained my focus on Veronique’s closed lids. Dead silence filled the atrium and I could feel their hateful eyes boring into my head.
“Evangeline!” Mortimer’s booming voice yanked my head up against my will, commanding my attention. My body began to tremble as I found chocolate brown orbs on me, a torrent of emotion in them. For him, I needed to explain.
“I’m sorry, Mortimer,” I croaked. “I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you all. It was too risky, though. You would have attacked.”
Mortimer’s jaw set firmly as he listened to my confession. I couldn’t read him. Not rage, not disappointment, not betrayal, not hatred. Nothing exposed in his cold stare—a stare that made me want to curl up and die.
Viggo was not so tolerant. He seethed, all shred of his normal charming psychopathic façade gone, replaced with gleaming white teeth and murder in his eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was the situation or the embarrassment of being tricked by such a naïve human that had him so irate. “I will tear you to pieces and describe every second of it to Sofie when she arrives. I will …” With a maniacal howl, he dove for the nearest group of Sentinel.
They didn’t have a chance.
In seconds, a pile of bloodied and torn corpses lay in Viggo’s wake. In his blind fury, he had managed to free three of the captured wolves. Grinding bones and howls of agony filled the atrium and I watched with a mixture of horror and fascination as they morphed into wolf form. In the chaos, Ivan and the fifth wolf broke free and transformed. All five of them now stood with hackles raised and teeth bared, poised to strike but holding back.
Gasps of disgust assaulted my ears as the witches watched their guard crumble outside their wall. “Stand down, soldiers!” Imogen shouted, stopping the few dozen living Sentinel from moving.
Viggo’s cold blue eyes turned back to me as if to say, you’re next. I cowered, clutching Veronique’s head tighter, thanking God and the Fates and anything else that had kept me alive so far, for the magical wall keeping Viggo from getting his wish.
“Who …” The single word wrenched my focus down. Olive green slits gazed at me. Veronique had been pulled back from the brink. For how long, I had no idea. I needed to make it worthwhile. “I’m sorry for all this, Veronique. Please believe me!”
A tiny sympathetic smile answered me. I didn’t know what it meant or if she even knew what was happening, or if she was already crossing over. Smoothing her hair off her forehead, I gently propped her head up and turned it so she could see outside of the circle.
“Mortim …” She whispered, her frail hand dragging along the broken cobblestone, crooked fingers reaching out to him.
Mortimer dropped to his knees as close to the circle as possible, his brow furrowed, horror marring his rugged features. “Veronique! We’ll get you out. I …” His voice cracked, “I didn’t know.”