Allegiance (Causal Enchantment #3)(51)
“I’m going to try this on.” Amelie slid into a dressing room, throwing back over her shoulder, “You know, you should pick something out for yourself.”
“For who? Max?” I answered under my breath, not meant for anyone’s ears.
Of course, with her bionic hearing, Amelie picked up on it. “Caden has been acting weird lately, hasn’t he …”
I instantly blushed.
“Not sure what’s gotten into him. I guess with Fiona’s death, Bishop being tied up, you being … toxic … sorry … he must be taking it pretty hard.”
And thinking Julian and I hooked up probably doesn’t help. In the grand scheme of things, that was a tadpole in an ocean’s worth of issues, and yet it seemed to be crippling us.
“When Caden found out you had been in the mountains with a guy … you should have seen him. Paranoia city! But I told him there was no reason to be worried …” The way Amelie’s words trailed off, by the lilt of her voice, I sensed this conversation was going somewhere intentional.
“Uh-huh.” I pretended to flip through racks of clothes while my insides were screaming.
“You know, it’s so hard to read you with that stuff flowing through your veins.”
“So they say.” Alarm bells, ringing loud and clear. What exactly was she trying to read?
“Julian said you’re just friends. I can’t help but think …” There was a long pause. “Did something happen between you two while you were up in the mountains?”
“No!” I didn’t allow a beat to pass, trying to keep my voice sounding as firm as possible. Still, in those two letters, in that tiny one word, my voice shook.
Another long pause. “You two were alone in the mountains for a month after Caden tried to kill you. And Julian … I mean, just look at him! How could you resist that?”
With a trembling hand, I rubbed my forehead. I was no good at this deception stuff. What would she do if I lied to her as I had to Caden? Visions of the innocent maid’s head bashed against the floor had my heart racing. I had no interest in finding out. “Because I never stopped loving Caden.”
I heard her exhale. “I’m so glad. Evie. I mean, I know you’re my best friend and all, but I don’t know how well I’d handle that. I get a little jealous sometimes …”
“You don’t say.”
A latch released and the dressing room door swung open to frame a svelte Amelie in nothing but lace and skin. “What do you think? Will this work on Julian?”
I gasped with surprise. “Good lord, Amelie! I’m not the one you’re trying to impress!”
She giggled, closing the door. “So? You think it’ll work?”
“That would work on a devout priest,” I answered truthfully. “If that doesn’t work, I don’t know what will.” Silently, I promised to warn my dear friend of my other dear friend’s carnal intentions.
“Seriously, Evangeline, why don’t you pick something out?” Amelie pushed. “Whatever’s bugging Caden will work itself out soon and when it does, you’ll want something besides flannel poodle pajamas to catch his attention.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” I flipped through the racks with renewed interest. Most of the items were more reflective of Amelie’s seductive nature, but I did stumble on a subdued black silk gown with delicate white lace along the top and tiny Eiffel towers splashed all over.
“I found something!” I called out, pulling the gown off the rack and whirling to show Amelie … and almost slammed into a stern-looking face. A middle-aged woman with dirty blond hair and a hooked nose stood a foot away from me, well within my personal space.
“Excuse me,” I said politely. But she didn’t move. She didn’t blink. Her blue-gray eyes remained frozen on me, a dangerous glint in them. A flicker of wariness sparked inside me. She was concentrating—I could tell that much—though on what, I had no idea. I watched her eyebrow rise with a flash of surprise. It quickly gave way to a grim scowl of determination and two viselike grips on my biceps.
“Evangeline!” Amelie shrieked from within the stall. “I can’t move my arms or legs! There must be a witch nearby. Run!”
Too late. That’s what she was. That look … I knew that look. It was the look of magic. She had tried to spell me and she couldn’t because of the Tribe’s curse … A brawny hand flew to my jaw and squeezed so tightly that I couldn’t answer Amelie, couldn’t utter a sound. One arm hooked around mine in a painful lock and the woman started dragging me toward the front of the store with surprising strength. Out, away from Amelie, away from safety.
I fought back, twisting and turning my body, swinging my legs out from under me to target her shins. I dug my nails into her flesh, eliciting a howl of pain from her but still she marched on. I leaned in to bite at her hands, managing to grab hold of her index finger with my front teeth, a coppery taste filling my mouth. She let out a yelp but continued. I was like a rabid raccoon and yet I couldn’t break free of her remarkable grasp, no matter what I did. I knew it wasn’t magic that did it and it surely wasn’t her size, given she only had a few inches and about thirty pounds on me. It had to be a combination of raw hatred and grim determination.
It was obvious I wasn’t a willing participant in this excursion and yet, as I passed the two ladies tending to the store and the other shoppers there—all watching the scene unfold—none did anything to help. Even with Amelie’s shrill screaming from the back, they stood like frozen deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to do. For all I knew, they were influenced by magic. Everyone could be. Everyone except me.