Anathema (Causal Enchantment, #1) (31 page)

Hello,
Max’s deep voice boomed clearly
in my head.

My eyes widened.

Still not ready?

“
No, I’m not ready to hear voices in
my head
.
I’ll never be ready to hear voices. But that
won’t change anything, will it?” I muttered bitterly, turning onto
my back in bed to stare up at the ceiling. So I was having a
conversation with a dog. So what? Plenty of people talk to
animals.

Leo had moved my things—whatever hadn’t been
damaged—into another suite. The furnishings were similar here to
those in my previous room, but the magical vibe was gone.
The
Bloody Quarters
, I mused, my eyes scanning the rich red walls
and fabrics. If those giant leopards had been massacred in here,
the carnage would have blended in nicely.

I reached over and touched one of Max’s massive
paws. “How can I hear you?”

Because you’re my master
now.

“
What does that even mean? How am I
your master?”

I don’t know. It just happened. Mortimer
used to be my master and now you are.

“
And how do I talk to you in my
head? You know, telepathically?”

You can’t. I don’t know why, but it’s only
one–way communication.

I nodded, somehow disappointed with the
limitation. “Sofie said you watched over me?”

Yes
.

I brightened with an idea. “You need to show me
what you saw, Max,” I urged. “You have to if I’m your master and I
order you, right?”

I heard a loud groan of annoyance.
You’re
sounding like Mortimer already.

“
Oh … sorry Max.” I smiled
sheepishly. “But it’s important.”

What would you like to see?

I thought for a moment. “My mother? Before …”
Before she was murdered
. “I need to get that image out of
my head. Please Max.”

That picture show began in my head again. This
time I was looking through a window at a girl of maybe five, her
long blond pigtails tied with peacock blue satin bows, sitting on a
stool in a small kitchen. She was savoring a batter–covered beater
as if chocolate was the most heavenly taste ever created. A blonde
woman, her back to the girl, was loading a tray of cupcakes into
the oven to bake. She turned, offering a dimpled smile and a laugh
to the little girl.

My mother.

Warmth warred with stabbing pain in my chest.
My memory hadn’t done her justice. I had forgotten how beautiful
she was, with her shoulder–length, sandy blonde hair and infectious
smile. Even at a young age, I’d noticed how she turned heads. But
it wasn’t just her looks. She also had that charismatic, clever
personality that won people over in seconds. The room would light
up when she walked in. At least for me, it always did.

Images began flashing in my mind again. Faces …
faces I recognized as those in the foster homes I had moved through
in my youth. Mrs. Boulding, the Avon lady. Mr. Billsbury, the
drunk. Mrs. Clairmont, the evangelical loon. The Darlings. They had
been relatively normal …

The images went on and on, a candid viewing of
my transient life until it stopped with the image of me stumbling
in front of Newt’s Brew. Watching the scene from Max’s point of
view, I saw Sofie’s pricey lantern fall over and smash without ever
coming into contact with my leg.

Magic. It had all been staged. A chill swept
over me.

But that wasn’t the most unsettling discovery
in all of this. “How did I not see you?”

I didn’t want to be seen,
Max said
matter–of–factly.

Of course. A three hundred pound dog lurking in
my apartment and prowling the streets after me, and my
Spidey–senses never kicked in. But Eddie, the crazy homeless guy,
had seen him.

“
How often were you watching
me?”

There was a long pause.
You were never
alone
.

The sudden urge to vomit hit me like a tidal
wave. I bolted to the washroom. After several minutes of staring at
the white porcelain toilet bowl—nothing was coming up, it was just
my nerves—I gave up and stumbled back with the awful knowledge that
there had been a pair of eyes on me for my
entire life
,
and I had never suspected it.

“
Max, show me everything you
remember,” I demanded.

I remember everything
.

“
Okay, the important
things.”

I lay down on the bed, my eyes staring at the
ceiling without seeing it, getting a play–by–play of my childhood
through the eyes of a dog. Some memories were specific, like the
Halloween I dressed in a penguin costume—my mother’s favorite
animal—and waddled out the front door, only to fall flat on my face
and give myself a bloody nose because the costume bound my feet
together too tightly. Other images were vague—me, sitting in my
room, crying quietly as I clutched a framed picture of my mother. I
had done that often in the early days.

Max showed me another flash then, one that
didn’t require a replay for me to remember every second. I had just
turned thirteen and was at home watching reruns on television, what
I normally did while waiting for my mom to get home from work. The
doorbell rang.
Is your father home?
a policeman asked when
I opened the door. I shook my head.
Do you have any family you
can call?
I shook my head, frowning, wondering what was going
on. The female police officer smiled gently and asked me to wait a
second while she called someone on her radio. Child Services showed
up not long after, sending me to my room to pack a bag of
things.

That was the night Viggo murdered my
mother.

The images stopped.

“
How are you doing this?” I asked
Max.

I just can.

“
Show me more, then. Show me
everything.”

He obliged.

Me, studying alone in the library for hours.
Me, alone and leaning against a chain link fence after school,
reading a book as all the other kids hung out together. Me, alone
in a park, swinging so high that I looked ready to sail off. Me,
always alone.

Bitterness swelled. Of course I was alone.
Viggo had made sure of it. What would my life have been like
without this blasted curse?

I stared vacantly at Sofie as she walked into
the room, another mountain bag slung over one shoulder as if it
were filled with cotton balls.

She has your best interests at heart,
Max said.

“
How do you know that?” I
answered.

Sofie looked up at me, frowning. I shook my
head dismissively. “Oh.” She smiled, glancing over at the dog
sprawled on the king–sized bed. “Ready to go? It’s time to strap
you in.”

With everything that had transpired—the attack,
learning the devastating truth about my mother and my life—I hadn’t
had a second to think about Ratheus … about Caden’s rejection. It
seemed so trivial now, yet my stomach tightened all the same, a
wave of nausea draining my face of blood.

But, in the end, it wasn’t trivial. Hope that
Caden might feel something for me, that I could save him and the
others from their isolation, was all I had left. I had lost
everything else because of this curse. Something good had to come
of it.

Was there
something
more than
friendship there? His words had been so contradictory. Was I
reading too much into them, hearing what I wanted to hear—what I
needed to hear? There
had
to be some twisted reason that
had brought him—a sweet, kind, gorgeous, down–to–earth
creature—together with the anti–Christ, Rachel.

I dragged myself off the bed to sit in front of
the bag.

“
Great,” Sofie said cheerfully,
affixing the straps.

I frowned at her. She was way too
cheery
.

Viggo’s listening,
Max said.
They
think she’s keeping secrets from them. They don’t trust
her.

“
Wonder why,” I grumbled. Sofie
glanced up, shushing me with her finger.

Sofie wants me to tell you to stay put.
Don’t go looking for the portal.

“
But what if—” Sofie’s hand clamped
over my mouth, accompanied by a severe glare of caution.

You’ll never find it and you’ll just be
putting yourself in danger. It will find you.

My mouth opened to speak but snapped shut when
Sofie’s mint eyes flashed with another stern warning. Did that mean
she knew where it was? I nodded once, my eyes darting suspiciously
between the two of them. Did Sofie ask Max to relay the message
earlier, or could they also communicate? I was dying to ask, but I
couldn’t. I’d ask Max later. I had something more important to
ask.

“
Sofie?” I said, hesitant. “Do you
think there’s any way I can bring more than one of them
back?”

“
I wish I could say yes or no,” she
murmured. “There’s a chance, though … There. One done.” Her hands
moved to the next strap. “You’ve really taken to them, haven’t
you?”

“
No,” I lied. Viggo didn’t need
another way to hurt me. I caught Sofie’s knowing smile. “It just
seems cruel to bring one back and leave the rest there.”

“
Yes. It would be,” she agreed.
“Let’s hope you don’t have to make that choice. Either way, I
wouldn’t mention that part to them. For your sake.”

I listened to the clock ticking as Sofie
finished buckling me in.

Sofie opened her mouth to speak, then
hesitated. “I know they’re your friends,” she began, “but please be
careful. You’re such a trusting girl, Evangeline.”

Desperately gullible. That’s what I
was.

Fiona had a torch burning within seconds of my
arrival. “Let me help you with that!” She started on the straps of
my backpack.

“
It’s so good to see you,” I
exclaimed, smiling with genuine happiness. It vanished the second I
saw jet black hair in my peripheral vision. My body went rigid, a
prickly sensation filling my lungs. Rachel was back. And wearing an
outfit Sofie had purchased for her. “Hi Rachel.” I held my breath
and forced a smile, hoping it looked authentic.

She looked at me like a snake studying a mouse
it was seriously considering for dinner.
Did Caden mention to
her that I threw myself at him? No, I’d already be
dead.

I heard myself exhale, all fear of Rachel
vanishing as Caden walked in. My heart practically leapt out of my
chest and a big, dumb grin that I couldn’t control stretched my
face. I was filled with a volatile mixture of anxiety and
excitement. All I needed was that returning smile, a glint in his
intense jade eyes that would tell me all was okay. That
we
were okay.

His eyes skimmed over my face—no smile, no
wink, no sign that he even recognized me—before he strolled over to
Rachel. He wrapped his arms adoringly around her, nuzzling into her
thick mane of black hair, whatever aversion to public affection he
had before clearly gone.

My smile slid off my face.