Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(17)

We stopped in front of the white woman. I gazed up at the statue’s face, her expression a mixture of tranquility and anticipation. “Exactly how I feel right now,” I mumbled to her, sighing.

Evangeline, someone whispered faintly.

I turned to look for the source. I couldn’t see anyone. “Did you hear that?” I asked Max, frowning. He began tapping his front paws against the stone, clearly excited. “What are you so happy about?” I asked, confusion deepening my frown.

Evangeline.

“There!” My head whipped around, eyes searching. “Did you hear—”

A loud crash preceded angry shouts.

“One hundred and twenty years, you unreliable witch! You seem to forget. How much longer?” Mortimer’s voice boomed.

“I’ve told you what I know!” Sofie shrieked in response.

Silence.

And then I heard doors creak open to my left. “Evangeline? Could you be a doll and come here, please, for a moment?” Viggo’s voice called.

“Coming!” I scurried toward his voice, playing the short exchange between Mortimer and Sofie over in my head. I wonder what that was about? And why would he call her a witch? He was brusque, but he seemed too sophisticated to resort to petty name–calling.

I found Viggo holding open a French door, smiling. “Come, join us in the library.”

Nodding politely, I stepped inside. Sofie and Mortimer sat on opposite ends of a cocoa–hued tucked–leather couch, talking casually, as if they hadn’t just been screaming obscenities at each other a moment ago.

The library was dim, but lamps of various sizes and heights scattered throughout the room gave it a cozy atmosphere. A giant ebony grand piano filled one corner while a full wall of mahogany bookshelves filled another, reaching all the way up to the soaring two–storey ceiling. In between was a fireplace with a large oil painting above it.

“Hard to avoid, isn’t she?” Viggo asked, walking over to admire the piece.

I followed him. It was a portrait of a young woman with plump auburn curls tumbling midway down her back and framing a heart–shaped face in which olive green eyes twinkled. Her smile for the painter was mysterious, and revealed sizeable dimples that reminded me of Sofie.

“This was Sofie’s sister, Veronique.”

Was Sofie’s sister. Past tense. I hazarded a glance at Sofie, only to see her staring at the portrait of her sister with admiration.

“She was a real beauty, Veronique was,” Mortimer said, adding, “It’s funny, how different two sisters can be from each other.”

Sofie’s lips pursed.

“When was this painting done?” I asked, gazing at the woman’s vintage–looking sapphire–blue dress that nearly exposed her br**sts. They were accentuated nicely with a black heart–shaped pendant identical to mine. Instinctively, I reached up to touch the one around my neck.

“So what do you have planned for today, ladies?” Viggo asked abruptly.

My eyes darted to Sofie; I was wondering the same thing. Her jaw tightened.

Before anyone answered, Viggo spoke again. “Well, that doesn’t sound like fun! Why don’t you two go out and do some shopping?”

“Unfortunately I have several errands I have to run,” Sofie answered briskly.

Viggo ignored her, pulling a cherry red purse from a drawer and tossing it to me. “Just a gift from us. Prada. Not available in stores yet. I believe some women have clawed eyes out for one of those.”

“Thanks. You’ve already given me too much,” I stammered, looking down at the bag. It was fat and heavy. Full of something. I glanced questioningly at Sofie, only to see her glaring at Viggo, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Open it!” Viggo ordered, winking. I hesitated. “Go on!”

I pulled the zipper. Like a Jack in a Box, out popped money—bundles of bills with multiple zeros on their faces. My legs buckled. I grabbed the back of a chair for support before I keeled over.

“Are you feeling alright?” Viggo was by my side in seconds, his hand on my shoulder.

“Yes,” I stammered, “it’s just … you’re much too generous.”

“Oh, nonsense. We’re billionaires! We have wads of cash lying around this place,” Viggo boasted casually.

“Yes. This is nothing—loose change, for us. Take it and have some fun. We insist,” Mortimer added, standing.

“We’ll just steal more when we’re running low,” Viggo said, chuckling.

Sofie stood up abruptly, her face and voice a mask of calm. “Evangeline, why don’t you go grab your coat. It’s chilly out.” She didn’t glance in my direction as she spoke, her pale eyes glued to Viggo’s face. Something was very wrong.

“We can go another time, Sofie, if you have other things you need to do. It’s okay,” I said.

An uncomfortably long pause ensued, Viggo and Sofie exchanging silent looks. Then she suddenly turned to me, a brilliant smile on her face. “Nothing is more important than taking you out shopping on your birthday. Now go, get ready!”

I turned to Viggo and Mortimer. “I don’t know what to say but thank you—again.”

“Anything for such a sweet girl, my darling,” Viggo said, winking a second time.

Max—always by my side—took that as his cue. He was back on duty, leading me up to my room with my ridiculous stash of money. Was I greedy to accept it? But how could I say no? They had practically forced it on me. Well, I didn’t have to spend it. I would leave it in the nightstand when we left for Maine. A maid would eventually find it. An early Christmas bonus for her.