Allegiance (Causal Enchantment #3)(62)

“I have been better. One of the witches put a special salve on my burns to help,” she explained. “They say they can’t heal my feet. I don’t know why …”

I know why, Veronique. But I’m not sure I want to tell you just yet.

Would she transform into Walking Death as well? Maybe not. Maybe she’d be like Julian. “It sounds like they’re treating you better,” I said instead, forcing the disturbing questions from my head, thanking God that we didn’t share our thoughts like we shared her body.

“Yes … they brought me up to this room and gave me food and water. And they’ve left me alone for some reason.”

An inkling of suspicion pricked me. Why would a group of witches hell-bent on setting fire to her to get her to speak just a day ago now feed and care for her? Especially when they knew they had an occasional intruder coming to watch? Something didn’t make sense.

What are you up to now, Cruella? I swallowed. “What have you told them?”

A pause. “Everything I know, which isn’t much. But everything.”

A painful lump detonated in my throat. “What exactly is everything?”

“How the vampires had no venom and how Sofie was trying to fix it.”

I sighed heavily. “Yeah, that’s a pretty big one.” Now the Sentinel and the witches knew. They knew they needed to strike while the vampires’ numbers were low. My eyes roamed the room again. “So you’re still in the same place?”

“I guess so … I’m not sure. I was unconscious for a while after …” Her voice choked off. No matter. I knew what she was referring to. “Why hasn’t Sofie come yet?”

Chunks of my heart tumbled, hearing her shaky voice, rank with the belief that her sister had abandoned her to this, that she was allowing this. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t lie. Not about this. I took a deep breath. “Because she doesn’t know you’re out, Veronique,” I answered softly.

“What?”

I had no idea how to explain. Where to begin? What to tell her? I didn’t even know how much time I had. Likely only minutes, in which case I needed to get as much information as I could from her. Carefully, though … I couldn’t tell her anything that could harm us if the witches decided to have another run at torture. She had already proven easily persuaded to divulge information.

“Listen, Veronique,” I began, “we probably don’t have a lot of time and I need some information from you. I’m going to get you out of here, I promise.” If we can figure out where you are! “But I need to know a few things.”

She paused hesitantly. “Okay …”

“Okay … how many witches and Sentinel have you seen?”

“Oh … I don’t know,” she answered, thinking. “Hundreds, maybe.”

Wow. “Okay. Do you know how people are getting in and out?”

“Uh … I don’t know, Evangeline. I’m sorry. I’ve been locked up the entire time.”

I sighed. Tortured prisoners didn’t make good insiders. “Do you know who that dark-haired one is?”

“Oui!” she answered quickly, excited to have an answer. “Her name is Imogen. She is not nice.”

That’s an understatement. I could see how everyone took Veronique for a sweetheart. “Has she said anything … interesting? Given you clues of any sort?”

I felt my brow crease as Veronique gave it some thought. “No …,” she answered slowly. “But she talks into a little gray box a lot. It makes a funny sound. Like ringing.”

Little gray thing … little gray thing … I scowled, with frustration. What could she be … her cell phone! Veronique had never seen a cell phone!

“Does it sound like she’s talking to someone here, in the building, or somewhere else?”

She nodded. “Definitely far. She said something about flying to England. What did she mean, ‘fly,’ Evangeline?”

Despite the dire situation, Veronique’s innocent questions made me chuckle. “In a plane.” This was crazy! “I’ll explain later. There’s so much to learn. For now, stay safe and try not to tell them anything.”

“Wait! Don’t go yet!” I heard the desperation in her voice.

“I can’t help how long I stay, Veronique. It just happens. But I’m still here for now.”

A pause. “How long was I in that statue for? The world has changed so much, from the little I have seen.”

“About a hundred and twenty years.” I felt like I was delivering a fatal diagnosis.

With a strangled gasp, Veronique’s hands flew to cover her mouth. I said nothing, allowing her to absorb the news that she had essentially woken up from a one-hundred-and twenty-year-long coma.

“And Mortimer and Viggo? Have they moved on? How are they?”

I snorted. “They are still your number-one fans.” I hesitated. “They’re fine. They don’t know you’re out, either.”

“You must think horribly of me … in love with two men,” she said and I felt heat creep into my face with her embarrassment.

It was such a genuinely sweet reaction to the situation, I couldn’t help but instantly like her. Except for her poor taste in mates.