Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(42)

“Well, at least the pendant will protect you while you’re here,” Fiona assured me. “We can’t sense your blood. It’s as if you’re one of us.”

And what if they could smell my blood? Is that all that’s keeping them from biting me? “How did you figure out I was human, then?” I asked aloud.

“You were holding your breath underwater,” Amelie answered matter–of–factly. “We don’t breathe, so we don’t need to hold our breath. Then you went and knocked yourself unconscious on that tree root, and—well, we’re not clumsy and we’re never unconscious.”

“Not even when you sleep?” I asked.

Fiona laughed. “Sleep is needed to rest and rejuvenate the body. We never tire so we never sleep.”

Made sense, I guess. I wondered what it was like not to sleep.

“Sometimes we meditate, though, and we get so deeply into it that it seems like we’re sleeping,” Fiona added.

“So, tell us about yourself, Evangeline!” Amelie said in a musical lilt. It was as if the near–death skirmish with Rachel five minutes before had never even happened.

“Um … there’s not really much to tell. I’m pretty vanilla.”

“Oh, come on. Sure there is. Tell us everything! What’re your hobbies, your passions, your pet peeves? What do you like to do? Who is ‘Evangeline’?” she said with theatrical flair.

I laughed. “You’d make a great actress.”

Amelie grinned. “I thought so too! I was going to be an actress, a famous Broadway one. But then this happened.” She gestured to her mouth, baring white teeth and hissing like a cat. It should have frightened me, but it was comical. I laughed. “Anyway, after that, I was … distracted by other things. Now, there’s not exactly an opportunity.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Obscurity is key. You can’t exactly be famous when you’re a vampire. After all, you can only explain your youthful appearance with plastic surgery for so long,” Amelie babbled, then waved her hand rapidly to and fro. “But enough about me. We want to know everything about you!”

I didn’t know where to begin. No one had ever asked me to summarize my existence so directly. No one ever asked me much about myself at all anymore. I switched schools so frequently that no one noticed when I came or left. It was as if I didn’t exist.

“Amelie’s excited, if you can’t tell,” Fiona said, chuckling. “We haven’t met someone we’ve liked in seven hundred years.”

‘Someone we’ve liked.’ Are they just staying that?

“Start with something easy. Your family.”

I faltered. “I live with a foster family. They’re kind of strange. I don’t really know them, to be honest.”

“And your parents?”

“Gone.” I offered a small smile.

Sensing my discomfort, they changed gears. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

I shook my head. No boyfriend. Ever. Not even an interested party.

“Okay, tell us about your friends. What’s your best friend’s name?”

“Oh … um …” I faltered again. “It’s tough to say …” No it’s not. It’s easy. You have no friends. You’re a leper. The truth was, I used to have friends, but they vanished after my mother’s death. I blamed myself for unintentionally alienating them while dealing with my loss. The few times I had attempted to start conversations and cultivate friendships since then had failed, the intended participants unresponsive. It wasn’t until I began volunteering at the shelters that I achieved some level of human interaction. And then there had been Sofie …

A hollow ache filled my heart as I remembered the high expectations I’d set, the night I met her and the days following, until the moment I learned her true intentions.

Luckily, Fiona’s voice interrupted my pity party. “Okay, let’s start with an easy question.” Fiona glanced at Amelie. “What’s your favorite flower?”

I smiled wistfully. Finally, one I could answer. “Daisies.”

Amelie’s eyebrows rose. “Really? They’re so plain.”

“I prefer ‘simple and elegant.’”

Amelie thought about that. “Yeah, maybe.” She skipped gaily down the path.

“Favorite music?” Fiona asked.

“Jazz. I know …” I said, grinning when I saw Amelie turn around to give me a baffled look. “But it reminds me of my mother.”

She smiled wistfully, her thoughts wandering somewhere for the moment. “Fair enough. Favorite food?”

“Anything in a pie.”

And so it went as we walked, Fiona and Amelie drilling me on every trivial detail they could think of. It was the conversation of normal girls getting to know each other—albeit quiz–like—not two vampires and a cursed soul.

“You know who loves reading as well?” Amelia asked as I mentioned my unhealthy obsession with books. “Caden. There could be a train wreck two feet away and his eyes wouldn’t have lifted from the page.”

“Really?” My heart skipped a beat at that tidbit of information. I was hungry for more—as much as possible. “So … he doesn’t like reading anymore?” I asked casually.