Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(51)
Bishop stood wincing, the sharp metal barb through his left earlobe. I gasped, tears welling. “I’m so sorry!”
Beside me, Caden and Fiona were doubled over in laughter. Caden straightened and strolled over to inspect the hook. “Nice catch!” he called back to me, winking.
I rushed forward with the intention of begging forgiveness but stopped short, cringing, as Bishop yanked the hook out of his ear, tearing a sizeable chunk of flesh out with it. I expected blood to start gushing but the wound immediately closed up, leaving his ear looking unscathed.
“Pay more attention next time!” Caden lectured Bishop, giving him a whack on his back.
“Fiona was distracting me with—” Bishop stopped, realizing he was the dupe in a joint effort by Caden and her. “You’ll pay for that later, woman,” he threatened Fiona, though he was grinning when he said it. “My new shirt’s ruined now!” He rubbed the sleeve where a few drops of blood had landed.
I stood there, wide–eyed with both amazement and horror.
“Don’t worry, Bishop’s fine,” Caden said, strolling over to gently squeeze my shoulder. “It’s next to impossible to catch one of us unaware like that. Impressive.”
“What was Fiona distracting him with?” I asked, frowning. But then I saw the devilish smile she gave him and his answering grin, and I had a good idea what it was. I turned away, flushing.
Caden cast his hook into the water and seated himself on a boulder. I followed suit, glancing around to check for snakes. “So how long have they been together?”
“They met during the war. Bishop had just been turned and he was lost. It’s not a natural process, the transition to what we are. He likely would have been killed in the war, had Fiona not taken to him. She took him under her wing, helped him. They’ve been together ever since.”
“Wow. Seven hundred years? That’s a long time to be with one person.”
Caden smirked. “For a human, yes. Human desires change with age. People outgrow one another. It’s different with us. Every day with Fiona feels like the first day Bishop met her—the sparks, butterflies, all that.”
“Butterflies … I thought that was a chick thing,” I muttered.
“No, definitely not,” Caden murmured, glancing peculiarly at me before turning back to his rod.
“What about you and Amelie? Were you … turned in the war?”
Caden shook his head. “An attack about forty years before the war.” He paused. “I was twenty–four. Amelie was twenty–one. Our parents ran a horse ranch, thoroughbreds—The Jennings Resort for Horses, some called it. One night we heard this awful sound coming from the barn. My father grabbed his shotgun, expecting to scare off some thieves. When we hadn’t heard from him for too long, I grabbed another gun and headed out. Amelie and our mother followed with flashlights. We got to one of the barns and …” Caden’s voice fell; he stared out at the placid water. “There were rumors of strange things happening at cattle and horse farms but nothing could have prepared us … Every horse in that barn was dead, their throats torn out, blood sprayed over the walls, the hay—everything. Mom and Amelie ran to get the police while I checked out the other barns, looking for my father …” Caden’s voice drifted off and he sat for a moment, deep in thought. “I found him lying beside one of his prize–winning stallions. And that’s where they found me—I never even saw a face.”
I noticed the tip of his fishing rod dip, but Caden didn’t seem too concerned.
“They decided Amelie and I were too appealing to waste—we’d make good additions.” His voice was edged with bitterness.
“I’m so sorry, Caden,” I said softly. And I was. It pained me to know that he and Amelie had suffered so.
He gazed down at his hands, a haunted smile on his face. “Do you realize that’s the first time I’ve ever heard those words from anyone?”
My heart sank. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, to comfort him, to take his grief away.
I glanced over to the others as Amelie leapt into the air, squealing with excitement about the fish dangling at the end of her hook.
“So … Caden Jennings,” I said aloud. Evangeline Jennings, the voice in my head said. I shook my head, feeling foolish.
He sighed. “In another time, yes. Amelie is all that’s left of my family. At least we found Bishop and Fiona.”
What about Rachel?
I noticed that the pile of fish had grown quickly as we talked. There was enough there to supply a supermarket. “So Bishop’s pet is going to eat all of those?” I nodded at the silvery mound. “How big is this pet, exactly?”
The end of my rod dipped, followed by a second, then a third tug—the last one sharp. “I think I caught something!” I whispered, as if speaking too loud would let the fish know he was ensnared on a sharp hook. Like he’s not already well aware of that.
“Reel it in!” Caden exclaimed. As if in response, the tugging became fierce and frantic. It was all I could do to grip the rod in my injured hand. Caden reached around me and placed his hands over mine, helping me wind the reel. “Almost,” he murmured, his mouth close enough that his voice tickled my ear.
I’m going to pass out, I thought, feeling a strange excitement ripple through my body. By the time the line was out of the water, I was too busy trying to stop my hands from trembling under his to notice a fish three times the size of the others dangling off my hook.