Asylum (Causal Enchantment #2)(22)



Julian leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands folded. “And when will that happen? How long? Are you—are we—stuck here until then?”

“Not long. Hard to say . . . ” I worked hard to hide the lie from my face but, by the crestfallen look on his, I knew I’d failed miserably. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the full truth, that Sofie, an over-protective, borderline stalker, had locked us up here to keep me safe from a pack of vampires until they could be trusted around my blood.

We could die here.

3. The Sentinel

“Soon,” I murmured softly, sliding my hand over the smooth white marble of my baby sister’s tomb, knowing my promise was a blatant lie. One hundred and twenty years ago, she accompanied me, hand in hand, into a dank, dusty room in this very building—then a factory of sorts. One hundred and twenty years ago, I had stared straight into her anxious green eyes and sworn that I’d release her the second I fixed my magical blunder. As tears rolled down her rosy cheeks, I’d chanted the freezing spell, my voice masking her last sobs until the spell paralyzed and preserved her body, and I felt my heart break. I witnessed the magic marble winding around her body, encasing her in her glorious tomb, swallowing her beautiful, curly brown locks. And here she was, tucked away inside the atrium’s focal point when she could be free. All it meant was that Evangeline had to die. Damn the Fates and their twisted sense of humor.

No. While Veronique was locked in her magic-induced coma, my lies couldn’t hurt her. They would torture me, but I’d endure. I would keep her under this spell for as long as it took to outsmart the Fates. Just as Evangeline would remain in her own protective cocoon—for years, decades, a lifetime. I would keep her safe.

“I guess the others are in the cellar?” I said to no one in particular as I strolled away from the statue, my eyes drifting over the twenty or so Ratheus inhabitants who lingered in the ruined atrium, huddled in circles, whispering amongst themselves. Likely still in shock over this otherworldly transportation. The other half—including Caden and his posse—were busy gorging themselves on blood bags in the cellar. Like unruly teenagers, they had broken into Viggo and Mortimer’s stash within an hour of arriving and had stayed there since, satiating their thirst, dooming their previous moral convictions. All of the Ratheus vampires had spent a considerable amount of time in the cellar, but it seemed Evangeline’s friends couldn’t get enough.

Those four had also foiled my desperate plan to corner one and dissect their intentions. I needed to isolate one of them just long enough to infiltrate their souls and minds. Only thirty seconds, someplace where I knew I wouldn’t be attacked by Mage for using magic or by Viggo for appearing to conspire against him. I would be breaking two parts of the truce by doing this and therefore would likely earn the wrath of both ancient vampires. I had no idea what Mage’s wrath entailed; I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.

But it didn’t matter because I could never get close enough. If Viggo wasn’t around, then Mage was. Since she had some uncanny ability to sense my magic, I couldn’t try anything with her in arm’s reach. And if neither of them was around, then that bitch, Rachel, was—hovering, watching, poised to report back to Viggo and Mortimer. It was clear she had chosen to side with them in this power struggle, and appointed herself Viggo and Mortimer’s eyes and ears. So I waited impatiently, and each hour that passed saw Caden and the others committing themselves more and more to their blood lust. My hope for something good to come of this charade was quickly thinning.

“Damn it!” I heard Viggo mutter, voice low. I whipped my head around in time to see him tucking his cell phone into his Armani suit pocket, his jaw clenched. Bad news? I felt a small smile curl the corners of my mouth. I knew exactly what that message was about. One of his compelled minions had informed him that their search for Evangeline had come back empty. No doubt there were a hundred such packs running loose around the world at this very moment, the brutes storming every location tied to my past. Both Viggo and Mortimer had been glued to their text pads, sending directives out to their vultures. I had expected as much.

His steely blue eyes locked on mine when Viggo realized I was watching. The hard look of frustration instantly vanished, replaced by his typical smug grin. “So Evangeline’s little ‘friends’ refuse to pry themselves from our blood reservoir.” He sauntered over to stand beside me, a smile of satisfaction tugging at his lips. It was just like him to find that amusing. But he didn’t wait for me to answer, instead changing the topic completely. “Do you really believe we’ll see Ursula again?” He added with thick sarcasm, “Assuming you were telling me the truth before.”

I realized we were standing in the exact spot in the atrium where my nemesis had fallen to her death—or her host body’s death. Good question. One I didn’t have an honest answer to, other than what I had already told them—the death was too clean, too calm, to be permanent. I had no idea how that jealous witch had reincarnated herself once, let alone over and over again to stalk me through the years. She had no doubt made her own deal with the Fates. Of course, telling Viggo any of that was useless. He wouldn’t believe me. So I simply shrugged. Ursula was the least of our worries.

The sound of a lock clicking set the tiny hairs on the back of my neck on end, erasing all worries. The exterior door release. Someone was entering. My shoulders tensed. I had sent every staff member away from here, with no hope of finding their way back! So who could . . . My nostrils caught a whiff of human blood. “Mortimer!” I hissed, my eyes glued to the gaping hole where the first security door had once existed.

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