Asylum (Causal Enchantment #2)(23)

“It’s Monday. The gardener,” Mortimer whispered in response. Not that there was any point to secrecy. The twenty Ratheus vampires in the atrium were well aware of the small Portuguese man entering to prune and weed the urban jungle as he did every Monday and Thursday. By now his blood was tantalizing their nostrils.

“What do we do?” I asked, hearing the panic in my voice. The words sounded foreign, coming from me. I wasn’t used to asking Mortimer—or anyone—for advice.

But it was too late. Like a pack of super-speed bees—Rachel in the lead—twenty vampires swarmed toward the door to ambush the quiet, polite gardener the second he stepped through the gaping hole, the horror of the atrium’s present ruin distracting him from his impending doom. He didn’t even have time to scream.

I averted my eyes, unable to watch the massacre of the gentle, innocent man with whom I had shared a laugh on several occasions. How could I have forgotten about him?

“That’s too bad . . . He knew how to prune Veronique’s azaleas in just the right way,” Viggo murmured with the empathy of Hannibal Lecter. I turned to see the hunger in his eyes, an arrogant smile of satisfaction on his lips as he witnessed the innocent man’s death eating away at my core.

I dug my red-painted fingernails into my thighs as I fought the urge to gouge Viggo’s eyes out, my promise to my baby sister becoming harder to keep by the second. I needed to distance myself. Spinning on my heels, I stormed toward my haven, throwing back over my shoulder with spiteful satisfaction, “The only way you’ll find Evangeline is if you pry it out of my head.” And that will never happen.

Evangeline’s delicate human scent lingered everywhere. The same delicate human scent that had enticed me for eighteen years, since the day I’d first laid eyes on her tiny pink form, swaddled and asleep in a bassinet. She had barely lived in this hideous blood-red room—the décor a twisted joke of Viggo’s—and yet I could find traces of her on every surface. On the crimson silk bedding of the four-poster king-sized bed; on the taffeta drapery; clinging to the crystals of her nightstand lamp where her wrist had grazed them while switching on the light. Everywhere. It was why I had spent most of my time here, since the Ratheus vampires’ arrival. It was why I warned everyone to stay out or suffer my wrath, truce be damned. So far, no one had tested me.

I wandered around the room now, clutching Evangeline’s pink sweatshirt to my chest. She’d been wearing it the night of Ursula’s attack. I shuddered, thinking back to that night, the raw pain visible in her eyes when she first learned the truth behind her mother’s death. I’d wanted to run to her, to hug her, to protect her. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t allow Viggo and Mortimer to comprehend the depth of my love for that sweet girl. They would have used it against me. In the end, Ursula’s attack was a blessing. Evangeline finally saw Viggo for what he really was: a conniving monster.

Passing by a full-length beveled mirror, I faltered. Sallow green eyes gaped back at me. My hair, naturally smooth and silky, drifted in disarray. Awkward creases riddled my fitted black and silver tube dress. Strange, for me. I didn’t need to work very hard to turn the awed heads of every man, woman, and child I passed. I never looked like this . . .

I sighed. Evidence of my current frazzled state over being separated from my girl. For eighteen years, until the first night her curse sent her to Ratheus, she was always within a minute’s reach, always under my careful watch. And now she was thousands of miles away.

I hated it. I hated Viggo and Mortimer for making me do it. All I have is a picture, I thought bitterly as I pulled a folded four by six from the only pocket in my dress. I had swiped it from the stack of prints I developed for her. In it, she was sitting on a bench, gazing off to her left and smiling. Likely at Caden. My finger traced the lines of her face, memorized long ago. How much like her mother she looked, with her blonde hair and dimpled smile. Longing tore at my insides. If I was honest with myself, I missed her more than Nathan. I missed her more than my sister.

I sensed his entrance a split second after he appeared in the corner of my eye. “I thought I made myself clear,” I began, taking time to fold the picture and slide it back into my pocket. “No one is to enter this room.” I turned to level Caden with a flat gaze. Perfect. We’re alone. Finally. Now’s my chance. Except he’s too far away. I took one step forward, then another, slowly edging in without rousing suspicion. He wouldn’t take kindly to being violated like this if he knew what I intended to do, I was sure. I just needed him to remain unaware for thirty seconds so he wouldn’t bolt or attack me. And, if his motives for Evangeline proved wicked . . .

Caden suddenly and unexpectedly appeared inches away from me with speed to rival Viggo, his powerful hands tightly gripping my biceps. “Where is she? I need to see her,” he whispered, desperation in his voice. His thumbs dug painfully into my flesh.

I had to tilt my head to meet his eyes. God, he’s strong. How am I going to do this without him knowing? He certainly was a darling, I had to admit as my eyes roamed his features, delicate and masculine at the same time. I could see why Evangeline had fallen head over heels for him. “Why would I tell you?” I began, mentally plucking several helixes and readying them, wondering if I could carry on a conversation while dissecting him. Doubtful, but I’d have to try.

“I need to see her,” Caden forced through clenched teeth.