Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(9)

Max groaned and stood. He walked over to stand beside the bed and lifted one paw to the mattress, patting it several times as if instructing me to get in.

I laughed, my fear of him melting away. He didn’t look so threatening after all. “Are you trying to tell me something?” I glanced at the bedside clock. A quarter to midnight, and I was wired. There was no way I’d get any sleep tonight. But I may as well get comfortable, I decided, heading to the closet to find some pajamas.

Now that I didn’t have an audience, I could shamelessly investigate the plethora of clothes. My hands eagerly sorted through racks upon racks of stylish clothes, all with designer tags still attached—Fendi, Burberry, Versace, Vera Wang—names I recognized from fashion magazines but never imagined wearing. An entire wall housed shoes; I counted thirty pairs. Thirty! From runners to boots with three inch–high heels, and everything in between. On another wall hung dozens of wire baskets filled with socks, pajamas, and intimates—including the infamous thong.

As I rifled through the pile of cozy flannel separates—my typical choice—my eye caught white lace trim. Curious, I pulled out a gray two–piece set. I rubbed the material between my fingers, reveling in the softness. “Why not?” I muttered, stripping down to try on the slinky outfit. I looked in a mirror. Half my chest was exposed, the tank top’s plunging neckline bordering on obscene. “What do you think, Max? Too sexy?”

He pushed past me and, walking over to the basket of pajamas, stuck his muzzle into it. He resurfaced with a pair of fuzzy pink Tigger–printed flannels between his teeth.

“Yes, Max, that is more me.” I chuckled wryly. “The old me. This,” I twirled, “is the new me. The adventurous, confident Evangeline.” My life was full of new beginnings. “I think I’ll stay in it. I’m not going out in public anyway,” I threw over my shoulder, leaving the closet.

Max followed, groaning.

Next I checked out the ensuite bathroom—an outrageously large, spa–like room constructed in white marble and crystal. The counter held dozens of creams and soaps and the equivalent of an entire drugstore cosmetics aisle, including some metal tools that in my opinion belonged in a serial killer’s torture kit.

Max nosed through the door and sauntered over to nuzzle my neck affectionately. I giggled. His nuzzles turned to shoves as he herded me out into the bedroom and toward my bed, his sheer size easily overpowering me.

I sighed, scratching his ear affectionately. “I’m not tired yet, Max.” My eyes wandered around my luxurious suite, taking in every detail from the bed frame to the doorknobs. “They sure do have a lot of money, don’t they …” I slid my fingertips along the sculpted mantel, likely worth enough to pay for my first year of college.

My eyes lifted to the watercolor and that same twinge of familiarity stirred. The little girl was in a park, with a swing set and red and white striped monkey bars in the distant background. Leaning in, I read the signature in the bottom right corner. My eyes widened in shock. “Sofie painted this?” Could it be? Yes, I supposed it could. I knew absolutely nothing about her.

A gigantic yawn escaped me. Maybe I will sleep tonight, after all. “Okay, Max. You win. Now I’m ready to sleep.”

I crawled into the giant bed and burrowed under the luxuriously soft duvet, suddenly exhausted. Max hovered beside my bed, watching keenly. “Night, Max,” I said through a yawn, reaching out to pat his nose. My other hand clasped Sofie’s pendant, imagining heat radiating from it.

I must have blinked a dozen times before my pupils adjusted to the dark. It was either late dusk or early dawn, I couldn’t tell which. Trees towered over me, soaring skyward to form a canopy so expansive that I could barely glimpse the moonlit sky beyond. I was surrounded by forest. Where am I?

3. Drowning

From the corner of my eye, I saw a person standing motionless nearby. I turned my head to look. Not a person, a statue—the white woman from Viggo and Mortimer’s atrium. I frowned. Hadn’t Viggo called her one of a kind?

Something burned hot against my chest, like an ember scorching my skin. Looking down, I realized it was my pendant. Only it wasn’t the cold, glassy black heart Sofie had given me. It had come alive, glowing with a swirling current of orange and crimson. I lifted the pendant off my chest by its chain; no burns marred the skin underneath. It must be like a mood ring, only it gets hot with color changes. Someone’s discovered a way to revive that dreadful fad.

A faint breeze caressed my body. I shivered in response and wrapped my arms tightly around my bare arms. Bare? Glancing down, I groaned. I was in my pajamas, the revealing gray ones. I can’t believe I left the house in this! Peering farther down, I saw exposed toes. Perfect. No shoes either. Did I sleepwalk out of Mortimer and Viggo’s place?

I sat up and checked the shadows, grumbling, “Where is that bloody mutt?” The big black dog hadn’t followed me. I pushed to my feet and took a step forward, the cold, damp moss of the forest floor tickling my bare skin. A twig snapped beneath my weight—so slight a sound that it should have gone unnoticed but instead echoed like a thunderclap in the eerie silence. Nothing moved. Nothing seemed alive.

My stomach knotted up in panic. I inched back toward the statue to wait for rescue. My teeth began chattering, the chilly night air uncomfortable, even with my blazing pendant as a source of heat. I may freeze to death out here, I realized. Maybe this statue is the frozen result of another girl wandering into the woods, never to be heard from again.