Asylum (Causal Enchantment #2)(38)



I shrugged noncommittally, as Leo had earlier, averting my eyes. I knew the answer. So did Julian. He didn’t need me to say it.

He wouldn’t let it go, though. “How can you even think of doing that? Choose to kill humans, to drink blood!”

A tremor ran through my body. “I don’t want to think about any of that,” I muttered.

“Well, you need to! You need to think about what kind of life that is!” He was no longer talking quietly but almost yelling. Max’s head lifted, cobra-like, and he eyed a warning at Julian. “I’m sorry, Max,” Julian said, lowering his voice as he addressed the dog—a strange thing to watch from a different perspective, “but she needs to think about what she’s giving up before she goes and does something stupid!”

“It’s not stupid!” I retorted, but my voice was unconvincing. Maybe Julian was right. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was downright insane. All I knew was that the idea of becoming one of them wasn’t half as scary as the idea of losing all of them, an idea that had just come to life, thanks to Leo. I wasn’t sure I could live as a vampire, but I was now one hundred percent positive that I couldn’t live the rest of a human life without my vampire.

A touch on my calf made me look—Julian’s hand on top of my blanket, patting my leg soothingly. “Please don’t cry. I hate it when girls cry. My sister always cries. It’ll be okay.”

I hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down my cheeks until now. I lifted my hand to rub them away, but Julian’s thumb was already there, gently erasing one as it rolled down the bridge of my nose. “I just feel so . . . trapped.”

Julian smirked. “Yes, I know the feeling.”

Of course he did. His life had been irrevocably changed as well. He had lost his parents, he had by all accounts nearly frozen to death, he had listened to the same devastating possibilities as me. And yet here he was, trying to make me feel better. Poor Julian. He’s stuck in here with me—a sniveling, self-pitying crybaby. Suddenly I felt foolish. There was nothing we could do about the outside world while we were here. Sofie would have things under control. She would protect Caden and the others. She would keep the peace. My only job was to stay sane until I did see Caden again.

“At least we’re trapped here together.” Julian gave my leg another pat. “It’ll be alright, you’ll see. Nothing will happen. No witches casting spells. No Sentinel attacks. Right now, boredom will be our worst enemy.”

I nodded firm agreement. “You’re right. We’ll be fine.” I swallowed the painful lump in my throat. God, I hope you’re right, Julian.

I turned in soon after, craving the comfort of my pillow, and privacy, but I was far from sleep. My mind spun in ten different directions, replaying parts of the earlier conversation that I had forgotten until now. “Hey Max, what other nonhuman things are out there?” I asked as I crawled into my double bed. The sheets held the cold, even with a fire blazing in my hearth.

Oh, this and that. The bed creaked with the weight of Max’s body as he leaned up against the frame.

“Stop being evasive, dog,” I grumbled, knowing my reference to his original species would prick his ego.

I’m not. I’m protecting you from unimportant information that will unnecessarily frighten you. You sleep poorly as it is.

“Well, I want to know! I’m ordering you!”

Warm air puffed onto my face as Max snorted loudly. On the grounds of protecting you and myself, I choose not grant your request.

Max had figured out the loophole for denying my order; he was now basically pleading the Fifth. “Since when did dogs start following the Constitution?” I muttered. He answered with that funny grunting sound I recognized as dog laughter. With a huff, I rolled over to put my back to him, pulling the covers up over my ears to shut Max out. I spent the rest of the night trying to fall asleep. And failing.

5. Transformation

“Thirty-two days, Sofie!” Mortimer groaned. “Thirty-two days, penned up in here.” He waved his arms around the atrium, now an urban war zone, thanks to my temper tantrum. “How much more of this can we bear?”

Thirty-two days and counting since the day Evangeline had returned with an army of vampires. It felt like thirty-two years. I had done six more blood runs since the first, all at night, all uncoordinated, all old-fashioned thievery. The several trucks that had gone missing had made it to the news, only building on the speculation regarding the explosion and multiple deaths outside Reggie’s Red Cross. I couldn’t do much about it. Compelling and erasing paperwork took time and required the freedom to move about. I had neither. Not that it mattered anymore. That first run to Reggie had made it clear that the Sentinel was aware of us, and they had at least one witch—likely Ursula—helping them. They had to be wondering what was happening within these walls that would require so many trucks of blood. Maybe if we stayed in here long enough, they’d get bored, I thought sardonically. Fat chance. That group had lingered from generation to generation, passing on secret truths and missions, breeding hatred for us. They knew how to lie in wait.

Ileana was locked in the parlor, quietly working on her spell casting, Viggo driving her to exhaustion daily. I couldn’t see what she was doing. The clever little witchling had learned how to mask her weaves well. But just having someone’s magic so freely circulating through the building set my neck hairs on end. I could see it bothered Mage as well, showing daily in her strained features. But as long as Ileana caused no one any harm, she wasn’t breaking the truce. Mage’s diplomacy wouldn’t allow her to kill the little girl out of personal displeasure.

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