Asylum (Causal Enchantment #2)(56)

Mage did, though, so she was prepared when Viggo attacked. In a split second, the two of them squared off against each other, Mage’s hand firmly on the poker that Viggo had intended to drive directly through her skull. She laughed. “Don’t worry, your suspicion was enough to protect you from being compelled—I’ve already tried.” Viggo sneered. “Believe me, I can’t!” Mage exclaimed in mock innocence. “If I could, you’d be lying in the Merth spell next to Rachel by now. I’m curious, though . . . do I look nothing like the original vampire from this Earth?”

Viggo’s mouth twisted as he decided what to say. “No, I can’t say you do.”

So he knew the original, after all . . .

She released her grip on the poker and stepped away, unworried that Viggo might take another swing. “I don’t think any vampire has ever disgusted me as much as you have. Bravo. Fine effort.” Keeping her black eyes locked on Viggo, she said over her shoulder to me, “Explain to me again why this one needs to remain. Because unless there is a good reason, I’d very much like to be done with his melodrama.”

Mortimer quietly observed the scene, clearly as unaware of Mage’s abilities as I was, and likely wondering the same thing I had—had Mage influenced his thoughts?

Amelie and the others were unfazed by the power struggle, still in shock over Mage’s confession. “It can’t be! Everything I remember . . . ” Fiona murmured.

“Is what I planted in each and every one of your heads,” Mage answered softly. “I’ve met you all before. You just don’t remember.”

“So . . . we’re going to end up back in the same kind of world?” Bishop asked, his voice full of grief.

“Not yet,” I said, mustering as much confidence as I could and turning to regard Caden, who had his eyes trained on the floor.

“We wouldn’t have come, had we known,” he whispered distantly.

I reached out to rest a gentle hand on his forearm. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we need to get out of here. Now,” I stated.

“As soon as we get that damn pendant, we can run as far away as possible!” Mortimer boomed.

“Veronique will be fine. No one is getting to her,” I assured him calmly, letting go of Caden.

“She can’t be moved?” Mage whispered.

I shook my head. “No. That spell is bound to its location.” I turned to Viggo. “As much as I’d love to leave you two here to rot, there is a war brewing outside.” I gave them the rundown of what had happened, beginning with the mutants and going all the way to the force outside. “We need to regroup somewhere else until we can get a handle on what we’re up against.”

“All of us?” Amelie asked. “Even the others out there?”

“No.” Mage’s answer came quickly and firmly. “I can only compel them against killing humans for so long, and they don’t have the resolution you four do.”

“So . . . ” Amelie prompted. Everyone looked at Mage.

“So, we leave them here.”

To starve. They wouldn’t die; they’d slowly wither to stationary lumps of flesh, too weak to lift their heads.

The room went silent as we each thought through the plan. Was it a good plan? I had no idea. At this point, running was the only option. “Okay, let’s—” I began, but Leo’s voice cut into my thoughts. Valentina is Ursula. She’s with the tribe now. The connection died immediately, as if someone had taken a knife to it. “No!” I exclaimed before I could stop myself, at the same time that Ileana groaned. Had she heard it?

Seven vampires were instantly on edge. “What is it?” Mortimer hissed.

“Nothing,” I answered before clamping my mouth shut, my eyes glued to the crippled witch on the floor, looking for signs that she’d received the message about Evangeline’s new location. A location I had chosen only as a last resort and never in a thousand years thought Leo would need to use.

Unfortunately Viggo noticed my sudden interest in the witch who had the uncanny ability to trace communications. “Tell us what you know!” he demanded. When she didn’t answer immediately, he grabbed her by her upper arm and, wrenching her up to her knees, he drove the poker through her right shoulder, just under her collarbone. It must have pierced a major artery, because a steady stream of blood shot out, eliciting hisses from those behind me.

I barely noticed, though, more concerned about what might escape her lips. Hairs lifted on my neck as I watched her open her mouth . . . but only a strangled croak came out. In response, Viggo roughly twisted the poker around. I winced, knowing from experience what pain that inflicted. Teeth bared and tears streaming down her cheeks, Ileana worked her mouth as if she were trying to get words out—words I couldn’t allow. I dove for her, fully intent on silencing her permanently. Mortimer intercepted me, blocking my path long enough for her shrill scream.

“She’s with the tribe!”

The sound of the poker and Ileana’s battered body hitting the floor resonated through the suddenly silent room. Viggo looked at me, his blue eyes perplexed. “Sofie?” Normally I would enjoy that look, but not this time. “What does she mean by the tribe? Not the tribe; you destroyed them years ago.”

Mortimer towered over me, glowering. “That’s what she told us. We took her word for it.”