Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(16)
Author: K.A. Tucker

“What just happened?” I asked, my voice hollow.

“Sofie’s curse, darling. I’m so sorry. Witches can be such wicked creatures,” I heard Viggo murmur.

I rolled my head to regard Sofie. The distress in her eyes appeared genuine. But I knew better than to believe it now.

I turned back to stare vacantly at the coffered ceiling. Seconds strung into minutes as energy slowly returned to my limbs. My jagged breathing competed with the crackling of the fire as the only sound in the room.

Physically, the hurt had vanished. There were no residual aches or pains, no scars to serve as evidence. It was as if had never happened. Emotionally, though, the injury was as real as if Sofie had held a hot branding iron to my chest. The fantasy I had unwittingly created in my head, where I was finally welcomed and accepted—even loved—had instantly crumbled to dust. Of course there was an ulterior motive. Of course Sofie wasn’t doing all of this because she enjoyed my company.

I am such an idiot.

Still too weak to fight gravity, my hand slid up over my stomach to touch the pendant, to feel the smooth stone rolling under my fingertips. It was no longer mere jewelry. I could sense the chain coiled around my neck as surely as if it were a tight noose. Closing my eyes, I pictured Sofie ready to kick the stool out from under me.

“Here. Sit up and have some water,” Viggo said, offering me his hand and then a glass.

“So what happens now?” I asked, accepting both with a small smile of thanks.

“The spell is unclear,” Sofie said softly. “I can’t see beyond you transporting to this world. It’s like getting an instruction manual with a large chunk missing from it. I assumed it would involve you being transformed into one of us. You would then have the venom to create more of our kind here. But clearly, based on what happened last night, I was wrong.”

“You put a spell on me and you don’t even know how it works?”

“Isn’t it terrible? Again, Evangeline: we had no control over what she was doing,” Viggo said.

A low, feral sound came from Sofie but with one sharp glare from Mortimer, her face went expressionless again. “The pendant rejected the venom. It’s protecting you in this other world—masking your heartbeat, changing the taste of your blood.”

“And how are we supposed to know how it’ll work?” I demanded, hearing the bitterness in my voice.

“Sofie is trying to—” Viggo began.

“I know what you need to do now,” Sophie interjected.

“Oh, really.” Mortimer’s voice was hard, suspicious. “How convenient that you finally know something.”

Sofie ignored him. “You need to bring one of them back. The pendant will tell you how, exactly. It’s sentient. It will communicate with you.”

I peered down at the pendant, muttering, “So I’m going to start hearing voices?”

“I’m not sure,” Sofie said, adding, “You will know when it happens.”

Her candor didn’t ease my anxiety. I dropped my gaze to the floor, focusing on a knot in the hardwood. The stabbing pain of Sofie’s betrayal had begun to fade, replaced by an all too familiar emptiness that slowly crept through my body. It was the numbness of loss—loss of an illusion of friendship I had quickly accepted as reality. I was delusional, after all.

And humiliated. Here I was, unwittingly the butt of a secret—a pawn, greedily accepting the gifts they showered upon me, turning a blind eye to the fighting and screaming.

The disturbing fact was, I now had an explanation for the bites and the old sweat clothes—albeit an insane one—and that brought me some small comfort.

“Is there anything else I need to know?” I wasn’t sure I could handle anymore.

“No,” Mortimer answered abruptly.

Another growl from Max.

I swallowed. “What if I want to go home?”

“This is your home for now,” Viggo answered calmly. “It’s for the best. For your safety, until this is all sorted out.”

The thought of leaving these walls—my elegantly wallpapered and decorated prison walls—brought me back to the attack. “Who were those people in the park?”

“No one you need to worry about.” Viggo smiled gently. “They won’t bother you anymore.”

No, of course not. They’ve been stuffed into bags by now. I shuddered.

“You probably need some time to yourself,” Sofie suggested.

I was glad for the dismissal, wanting to get as far away from her as possible—as far as my prison bars would allow. I left the library without glancing in her direction, picking up speed until I was sprinting to my room.

Throwing open my bedroom door, I yelped in surprise. Sofie stood in front of the fireplace, her back to me, studying her painting.

“How did you—” I didn’t bother finishing. Just further proof that she isn’t human.

Max nudged me into the room as he barged through the door behind me. Once in, he sauntered over to my bedside and sat down, no longer the frothing, protective guard dog. I guess he didn’t see Sofie as a threat to me. So much for canine intuition.

“We understand this is a lot to absorb,” she said, turning to walk toward me, her face an emblem of sadness. For a second a pang of sorrow pulled at my heart. But then I remembered what she had done to me and that grief dissolved. It was all a masquerade. None of it was genuine.

She reached up to place a hand on my shoulder. I recoiled. Slowly dropping her arm, she sighed, her expression going blank. “It’s best to keep some things to yourself for now, until you know them more. Don’t tell them why you’re there or anything about the necklace. And keep out of trouble. You could easily have died last night, if that vampire hadn’t controlled himself.”

“He said my blood didn’t taste right … or human … something like that,” I mumbled, remembering the attacker’s words, suddenly finding them offensive. There was nothing wrong with my blood. But something else dawned on me. “Wait. What if he hadn’t? What if the vampire hadn’t tried to convert me and kept draining me of all my blood? I’d be dead—weren’t you worried that would happen?”

Sofie pursed her lips. “It didn’t happen so there’s no use worrying about it. And anyway, the spell is irreversible.”

“Right.” I moved away until my back hit the wall, trying to distance myself from her—the evil vampire sorceress.

“Well, alright then. Be safe tonight.” She moved as if to head out the door. But in the next instant she was beside me, gripping my arm tightly. “Don’t trust any of our kind, including Viggo,” she whispered, the words coming in a rush, “and don’t do what the pendant tells you to, yet.”

And then she vanished, leaving me thinking I may have imagined her words.

Was she trying to pit me against Viggo and Mortimer now, too? Why? She was the one who had tricked me—cursed me. I obviously knew not to trust her. But Viggo—who was as blameless in all of this as I was—was asking for my help.

Is this even happening? I wondered as I walked toward my bed. Maybe this was the dream that I’d wake up from soon. I pinched my arm but only winced at the pain. This is real. Vampires exist. Witches exist. Viggo and Mortimer are vampires. Sofie is a vampire sorceress. The giant dog lying down on the other side of the room is … I don’t know what he is.

The three of them, fawning over me, a socially awkward stranger with no friends, giving me gifts and kindness … I should have known something was not right. I sighed. I wasn’t Nancy Drew—not unless Nancy Drew was blind and deaf.

An awful numbness was taking over. I’m sure anger was there, buried deep under a blanket of shock and confusion, but it was all rolled up and somehow encapsulated within the numbness. I never understood why anyone described it as a lack of feeling when, to me, there was definitely a sensation with being “numb”; not one I could describe, except to say it felt wrong.

A glance out the window showed night looming. If I could force myself to stay awake for the night, maybe Sofie’s curse wouldn’t work. But if not, if I did get pulled into this dream world that I now knew wasn’t a dream world, I had to prepare myself. They were vampires. They might bite me and drain me of my blood. Except that they hadn’t done anything like that yet. They had protected me. When I was lying in Caden’s arms, bleeding profusely, he could easily have finished me off, but he didn’t. None of them had. The more I tried, the harder it was to picture Amelie, with her bouncy curls and childlike smile, being murderous. Or Caden … perfect Caden. They couldn’t be bad. They had to be like Viggo and Mortimer—good vampires.

It was pitch black this time. I couldn’t see any shadows, any outlines, anything at all. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

“Hold on,” a male voice called out. A light appeared to my left. I turned to see Caden anchoring a burning torch into a wall bracket. Even with my spirit drained from the day’s revelations, my heart still skipped a beat at the sight of him, and I knew it wasn’t out of fear. The possibility that he was a vampire was trivial. That he was no longer a figment of my imagination, that I was standing in front of him … that made me jittery.

Oh my God. I had all but professed my undying love to him the last time I was here, when I thought it was a dream. Right before I insulted his taste in women.

Blood rushed to my head along with my mortification. The room began to spin. I reached out, searching for a support, and my hand grazed something cool and smooth and hard. I turned to see the statue. The conduit.

“Is that—” I began, but my voice ended in a croak when Caden appeared in front of me, gingerly reaching for my bandaged hand.

“What happened?” His face twisted with worry.

“Oh, nothing. It’s okay,” I stammered, melting with the feel of my hand cradled in his. His vampire hand. Without thinking, I yanked my hand away.

When I hazarded a look up, I found his jade green eyes watching me. He nodded slightly, a strange expression on his face, as if acknowledging something. He knows … he knows that I know.

We stared at each other for a long, silent moment. Then he thrust a set of clothes into my uninjured hand. “You should put these on, in case we have more visitors,” he said quietly.

I glanced down to see the same type of nondescript sweats I’d put on the other night. Heat crawled up my neck as I recalled the last time Caden had handed me clothes. It was right before he kissed me. I had made out with a vampire. And enjoyed it, immensely.

“Is this the same statue as in the woods?” I asked hoarsely, turning to point at the statue, desperate to change the topic. I looked back to find myself talking to an empty cave.

I fumbled slowly with the clothes, my injured hand awkward. I hadn’t bothered undressing earlier that evening, opting to cuddle with Max until the blaze of the pendant and the fatigue set in, the warning sign that Sofie’s curse was about to take me. I had held onto Max tightly, begging him to come with me, to protect me.

But it hadn’t worked and here I stood, alone. Alone in a cave full of bloodthirsty vampires. Were they really bloodthirsty, though?

Now wearing my disguise, I retrieved the torch and followed the sound of distant voices. I found the group circling a fire in the same giant cave as the previous night. Four faces turned to smile at me. Four beautiful faces. I looked around; Rachel was nowhere to be seen. Relief washed over me.

Okay, try to act normal. Small talk. “Is that my statue back there?”

Amelie nodded. “It was Caden’s idea to bring it here so we wouldn’t have to sit down in the valley, waiting for you. It worked! Clever.” Amelie’s springy curls bobbed as she turned her head to smile proudly at her brother. “We replaced your statue in the woods with an imitation that Fiona created, in case someone wanders out there.”

“It looks more like a fat, drunk ogre, but it should work—from a distance,” Fiona said with a nervous giggle.

Amelie walked over, reaching out to take my hand, her brow furrowed in concern as Caden’s had been. “What happened?”

“Minor mishap,” I said, consciously not pulling away this time.

“So … do you still think you’re dreaming?” Fiona asked.

By her tone, I could tell she knew the answer. Caden had told them. There was no point lying. I gave them a small smile and shook my head.

“Come, sit,” Amelie said, taking my other hand and pulling me to a bench.

I sat down, ever aware of Caden’s attentive eyes studying me from across the fire. “Where’s Rachel?” I asked.

“Not here, thank God,” I heard Amelie murmur under her breath, followed by, “She’s watching over the fake statue. We all took shifts down there in case the switch didn’t work and you showed up down there. She’ll be back soon.” There was no mistaking the contempt in her voice.