Asylum (Causal Enchantment #2)(25)

Her left eyebrow arched when a snort escaped me. “You don’t believe me?”

“No. I’m sorry, I don’t. For the life of me, I can’t understand why . . . ”

Mage’s red lips curled back in disdain. “I don’t know when our kind became such treacherous, conniving fools. I remember a distinct shift within the last five thousand years.”

It took every ounce of energy to keep my face from displaying my shock. She’s five thousand years old—at least! No vampire had lived that long on Earth, as far as I knew. Of course, I didn’t know much. Viggo was tight-lipped about our world’s vampire history. I only knew that he wasn’t the first vampire to exist, but now he was the oldest. My gut told me he played some role in that first vampire’s demise, especially since the handful of others left roaming the world threatened to kill me for my association with him. He hadn’t made a lot of friends.

“So this is Evangeline’s room?” Mage asked, her eyes roaming the décor as she moved farther into the room.

I said nothing, studying her intensely, wracking my brain for a possible motive to her interest in helping Evangeline. The fact that I couldn’t guess one had me on edge—more so than if I could definitively say Mage was evil. If only I could magically dissect her as I had Caden . . .

She stopped in front of the fireplace to study the painting—the one I had moved from Evangeline’s previous room to here. It was the one I had painted of her as a little girl, picking daisies at the playground. “This is Evangeline.”

“Yes.”

“Charming.” She stood in silence for a moment before speaking again. “You love her as if she were your child. I envy you for that.” Those black eyes fell on me again, so peaceful, so reserved, so . . . unreadable. “I came here to tell you that the cellar is bone dry.”

I felt my eyes bug, the sudden change of subject jarring, the news shocking. “There was enough to last weeks, at least!”

She shrugged. “What can I say. Obviously not. The incident in the atrium earlier should attest to that. Surprise guest?”

I cringed at the reminder of the gardener. “Yes, a complete surprise,” I answered, adding, “I’m not a fan of surprises.”

“It will be a long time before you can trust any of them around humans,” she continued, her tone tinged with rebuke.

“I’m well aware of that,” I snapped, her condescension sparking rage. “This wasn’t exactly planned.”

If my tone bothered her, she didn’t let on. “No. Of course not. Can you change the security code so no one else can get in?”

“I, uh . . . ” I faltered, her suggestion flooring me. Why hadn’t I thought of that? It was brilliant and simple! And something I would normally think of in half a human heartbeat if I wasn’t so preoccupied. Yet, here Mage was, offering sage advice to help me.

That was it. I’d had enough. Time to see what you’re made of, Mage. I turned to regard my concerned advisor, loosening my upper body, ready to spring. “Let’s not dance anymore, shall we?” I began, my voice deliberately calm. “I prefer my dance partners taller and more . . . masculine.”

Mage’s long black tresses swayed as her head tilted back, a musical laugh escaping her lips. “Whatever do you mean?”

She finds this amusing. Great. I had a female version of Viggo on my hands. I sighed heavily. “What game are you playing, Mage? You would appear to be concerned about Evangeline and Caden’s well-being, you’re offering advice to avoid the chance of humans being killed. I don’t have time for this. I play enough games with Viggo. So what is it that you want?”

The amusement vanished from her eyes, replaced by a hazy stare, as if she was no longer looking at me but into her own distant memories. “Does it not bother you that my world and your world are so similar?”

I paused to register her words, her sudden change of topic sending me reeling. “Yes,” I answered truthfully. “It has bothered me greatly since the minute Evangeline began describing it.”

“Because you wonder if your world is fated to the same demise as Ratheus.” Mage picked up a small figurine from the fireplace mantel. I watched quietly as she rolled it back and forth between her fingertips. “I worry about the same. The planets are identical, you see. There is only the venom issue.”

Something in her tone, something in her words, stirred a gut feeling that a deep, dark secret lingered on her tongue, one that existed now as it had before, in the atrium.

“From what I—” Mage’s eyes flicked to the door and she sighed. “Prying ears, as usual.” I frowned, not sensing anything. Normally my senses for such things were keener than even Viggo’s, due to my sorceress abilities. “You can create sound barriers with your magic, can you not?”

“While keeping the truce?” I smirked.

She smiled in return. “There are exceptions to every rule.”

She was giving me permission to use my magic. Fury sparked, but intrigue quickly doused it. She wanted to tell me something that the others could not hear.

With a few carefully chosen words, I conjured a purple-hued bubble around me. Mage’s eyes followed it as it expanded to touch the walls of Evangeline’s room. So she can see magic as well!

Satisfied that the room was protected from listeners, Mage began again. “Now, where were we . . . yes, the venom issue. From what I gathered from Rachel, it was your fault?”