Allegiance (Causal Enchantment #3)(96)



I’m on to you all! I laughed mirthlessly. “But you did give him back to me, remember? With a few extra bad habits.” My attempt at indifference to Wraith came out sounding strangled.

I was back on my pedestal, staring at the four of them around the vessel. Terra offered a thin smile. “Well, then, what can we offer you, Sofie? Would you like your venom back? Would you like to stop this impending war?”

Promises, promises. All just words. Words that would be twisted, tainted, mutilated into something grotesque and unrecognizable. Gritting my jaw, I shook my head stubbornly but said nothing.

Again, my surroundings changed in a swirling mist. I now stood in a cold, dark room. I recognized it. It was one of Viggo’s cellars. A frail young woman sat huddled in a corner, her dress long-since stained, her arms bruised, her curly brown locks hanging limply around her.

“Would you like your sister back in her tomb?” Unda whispered.

I felt the blood drain from my face. I fought my rising panic. It’s not real. It’s not real. They’re desperate. The cell vanished and I was back on the pedestal yet again, facing Unda, her mouth warped into a toothy, taunting smile.

“Oh, that’s right. You didn’t know. Your human girl has betrayed you …”

14. Yellow Eyes and Blue Prints—Evangeline

From the outside, all appeared tranquil at Viggo’s palace. No indication that the front gates were in shambles, blown up by witches’ fire; no hint that the scenic atrium was now a rotting battlefield; no signs that a young woman, guilty only for her choice in lovers, was being tortured mercilessly. But I knew better. I knew because I had seen it firsthand.

The second we made the decision to come to New York, Ivan called Lilly on her cell. She suggested we take Kait’s jet. Vampires and their private jets … Kait’s jet was smaller and simpler than Viggo’s, but it had wings and it got us over the ocean fast—I hoped fast enough that we arrived before Bishop. That’s all that I cared about.

Kait didn’t have a flight crew on twenty-four-hour call. Amelie quickly remedied that issue by compelling two nearby pilots to abandon their own planes and fly ours. We were in the air in less than an hour and landing in seven—the entire time shared between drifting off to sleep and fighting with Caden, Amelie, and Max over Julian and I stepping foot inside that place. Shouting turned to pleading turned to whining. Caden even tried persuading Wraith on the perils of me entering those gates. It didn’t work, thankfully. I was noticing that Wraith didn’t forbid me anything; he simply ensured he was one step ahead of me to destroy any potential threat.

There were twenty of us stationed on the tenth floor of a condominium complex across the street from Viggo’s. It was a nice, modest space with functional living room furniture and a large table covered with blueprints. Lilly had purchased the condo forty years ago, she explained, as nothing more than an observation spot. To watch her mother’s killer. She claimed Viggo knew nothing about it. I highly doubted that. I’m sure Viggo knew the place down to the paint hues and the abstract print on the curtains. I’m sure he didn’t care. I’m sure he took great twisted pleasure in it all.

“The streets are so quiet,” I said, observing Manhattan from my perch on the windowsill. It was about four-thirty in the afternoon and dusk was settling in. Traffic was lighter than I had seen in the past. The few passersby huddled within burly winter jackets as they rushed down the sidewalk.

“It’s Christmas and it’s cold. Humans don’t like the cold.” I turned to find Lilly’s sharp blue eyes studying my face. She gave me a wary smile and I was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. Sofie was gone. Mage was gone. Lilly felt like an appropriate substitute.

“And most are at home, enjoying a Christmas dinner. They’re not staking out a witch sanctuary.”

“This morning’s church attack certainly can’t help,” Galen said from his outstretched position on the couch.

“What attack?” Caden and I asked in unison. I felt him move in behind me, his hand sliding across my waist. Conflict churned inside me. I shouldn’t let him touch me anymore, that voice told me. Stop testing the Fates! I was lucky enough for that one thrilling hour back in France. Every second that I toyed with inevitability after that, I was guaranteeing doom …

Eventually … I would kill him.

But right now, I needed him. My willpower dissolved into a puddle at my feet as I leaned back to rest against him. In answer to Caden’s question, Galen grabbed the remote to the flat screen television. A mannish blond female reporter filled the camera screen, her backdrop a dwindling blaze in the night.

“Police are saying this morning’s Christmas massacre was gang-related, though experts believe the brutality inflicted on the bodies was more that of a vicious animalistic attack. Most of the evidence was burned in the fire. However, the scant remains pulled from the catastrophe are being sent to forensics for further examination. Police believe as many as two hundred people perished in the church when the doors were barred and the building set on fire, in what is being called one of the most brutal Christmas attacks in United States history …”

Blood rushed to my head and drowned out the reporter’s words. Two hundred innocent people, dead. Two hundred men, women … children. My knees folded. Caden’s grip held me up. Two hundred people expecting nothing more than a few prayers followed by a day of celebration with their families. Sickness tossed and turned and rose inside me. It was beginning. “How …”

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