Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(82)

“Anyway … considering they’re doing you a favor … I was hoping you could—I don’t know, set up a trust fund for them or something. So they’ll have some money to help them start out.” So we don’t have to live with you two goblins.

The roar of laughter that erupted from Mortimer shook the glass in the balcony doors. “So they’re okay with blood money as long as they don’t do the actual killing.”

I shrugged, realizing my logic was flawed.

A curious expression stretched across Mortimer’s face, then he smiled strangely. “Okay. How much do you think they will need?”

“I don’t know … maybe …” I began fidgeting. I had never asked for money before. It felt awkward. But it wasn’t for me. How much would they need, anyway? I guess enough for a condo somewhere, and a car, and some clothes. I did some quick mental calculations. Five hundred thousand. That should be enough to start out. It would be a small condo, cozy for the five of us, but … I couldn’t believe I was about to ask someone for five hundred thousand dollars!

Viggo spoke up before I had a chance. “Does ten million sound about right?” he offered, his face displaying nothing but complete seriousness.

I began choking violently, sure that I had swallowed my tongue as I sucked in a mouthful of air.

“Twenty. For each of them,” Sofie piped up. She had remained quiet up until now. “So that’s four of them and Evangeline. One hundred million, in an account that I will set up. Only Evangeline will have access to it. It needs to be done by this afternoon.”

A small strangled sound escaped my mouth.

Viggo raised an eyebrow at Sofie, but said nothing.

“That’s an awful lot of money. I’m not sure we can gather that much today.” Mortimer looked as if he were about to explode.

“Oh, please,” Sofie scoffed, rolling her eyes as she called his bluff. “That’s nothing more than a library fine for billionaires like you, but it will give Evangeline and her friends a healthy start.”

A hundred million. A hundred million dollars and twenty of that would be mine. I grasped the back of the headboard to steady myself before I keeled right off the side of the bed.

“Is this necessary?” I heard Viggo ask Sofie through gritted teeth.

“They need to be taken care of or they won’t help us when they get here,” Sofie said with the conviction of a priest asked if he believed in God.

“This is extortion,” Mortimer growled.

Viggo turned his gaze toward me. “Is this true, Evangeline? They won’t help us unless they have a hundred million dollars in an account?” There was that obscene number again.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, remembering that icy cold warning he had delivered previously. Don’t ever deceive me. “Yes. They said they wouldn’t help you.” That part was true, but it had nothing to do with the money. Hopefully my fear would mask any telltale emotions I may be emitting.

The screech of bending metal shot through the room as Mortimer’s white–knuckled grip distorted the bedpost. “How stupid are you? They’re lying to you! Whatever they’ve told you, whatever they’ve done, it’s all lies, you stupid little girl!”

“No, they’re not …” I stammered, his words dislodging a deeply buried fear that had been brewing but hidden inside me. I jumped off the bed and ran out of the room, Max on my heels.

It was my first time in the atrium since finding out that the grand marble statue encased an even grander secret. I stood there now, gawking at it, envisioning the dark–haired sleeping beauty entombed within. The atrium’s tranquil, inviting atmosphere had altered for me with this knowledge, replaced by a disquieting eeriness, as if unseen eyes were peering out at me.

“I hear her voice sometimes in the dead of night, whispering to me.”

I turned to see Mortimer standing beside me, his attention fixated on the marble face. I hadn’t heard him approach. A glimmer of what could be adoration revealed itself in his eyes before they glazed over with their typical ice. I wasn’t sure how to respond to Mortimer’s admission so I kept quiet, turning my attention back to the statue.

Max stood quietly on my other side, unconcerned by his previous master’s presence. That told me Mortimer wasn’t likely there to harm me. Not physically, anyway.

“Viggo had this atrium built as a replica of a villa he and Veronique visited. It was one of her favorite places. She adored the flowers and the balconies. So he decided it should be the first thing she sees when she’s released.”

“Makes sense,” I murmured. Mortimer was acting uncharacteristically nice.

“It’s not fair, what has happened to you, what we’ve asked of you. I realize that,” he continued, still not looking at me.

Is he trying to apologize?

“But sometimes, when someone means everything to you—when the only reason you’re alive is to see their face again—you’ll accept all consequences that go along with that chance. Even if it means someone else will suffer.”

Not a good apology, I concluded bitterly. “Well, as long as you’re comfortable with me being cursed.”

Mortimer smirked. “Maybe you’ll understand one day.”

I decided what I wanted to say. “How can you be so selfish? How can you look someone in the eye, knowing what you’re doing to them?”