Anathema (Causal Enchantment, #1) (38 page)

“
This should be interesting,” Viggo
mused, a smug grin on his face.

“
Well, it’s Caden, Fiona, Bishop,
and Amelie,” I began, stammering, suddenly uncomfortable. “They’ll
have nothing—no home, no money, no clothes.”

“
Well, of course they can stay here
until they’ve settled in,” Viggo offered smoothly.

Settled in. So that’s what Viggo calls
sucking the life out of people and robbing them of their
possessions
. “Well, that’s just it,” I said aloud. “They’re
not planning on adapting the usual way. They won’t be killing
humans.”

Viggo and Mortimer bellowed out laughter. “They
said that, did they?” Mortimer murmured, a knowing smirk on his
face. “And you believed them, of course.”

I bristled. “Yes, they did. And yes, I
do.”

“
Okay, go on, Evangeline.” Viggo
waved his hand, still chuckling softly.

“
Anyway … considering they’re doing
you a favor … I was hoping you could—I don’t know, set up a trust
fund for them or something. So they’ll have some money to help them
start out.”
So we don’t have to live with you two
goblins.

The roar of laughter that erupted from Mortimer
shook the glass in the balcony doors. “So they’re okay with blood
money as long as they don’t do the actual killing.”

I shrugged, realizing my logic was
flawed.

A curious expression stretched across
Mortimer’s face, then he smiled strangely. “Okay. How much do you
think they will need?”

“
I don’t know … maybe …” I began
fidgeting. I had never asked for money before. It felt awkward. But
it wasn’t for me.
How much would they need, anyway?
I
guess enough for a condo somewhere, and a car, and some
clothes.
I did some quick mental calculations.
Five
hundred thousand. That should be enough to start out. It would be a
small condo, cozy for the five of us, but …
I couldn’t believe
I was about to ask someone for
five hundred thousand
dollars!

Viggo spoke up before I had a chance. “Does ten
million sound about right?” he offered, his face displaying nothing
but complete seriousness.

I began choking violently, sure that I had
swallowed my tongue as I sucked in a mouthful of air.

“
Twenty. For each of them,” Sofie
piped up. She had remained quiet up until now. “So that’s four of
them and Evangeline. One hundred million, in an account that I will
set up. Only Evangeline will have access to it. It needs to be done
by this afternoon.”

A small strangled sound escaped my
mouth.

Viggo raised an eyebrow at Sofie, but said
nothing.

“
That’s an awful lot of money. I’m
not sure we can gather that much today.” Mortimer looked as if he
were about to explode.

“
Oh, please,” Sofie scoffed, rolling
her eyes as she called his bluff. “That’s nothing more than a
library fine for billionaires like you, but it will give Evangeline
and her friends a healthy start.”

A hundred million. A hundred million
dollars and twenty of that would be mine.
I grasped the back
of the headboard to steady myself before I keeled right off the
side of the bed.

“
Is this necessary?” I heard Viggo
ask Sofie through gritted teeth.

“
They need to be taken care of or
they won’t help us when they get here,” Sofie said with the
conviction of a priest asked if he believed in God.

“
This is extortion,” Mortimer
growled.

Viggo turned his gaze toward me. “Is this true,
Evangeline? They won’t help us unless they have a
hundred
million dollars
in an account?” There was that obscene number
again.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, remembering
that icy cold warning he had delivered previously.
Don’t ever
deceive me.
“Yes. They said they wouldn’t help you.” That part
was true, but it had nothing to do with the money. Hopefully my
fear would mask any telltale emotions I may be emitting.

The screech of bending metal shot through the
room as Mortimer’s white–knuckled grip distorted the bedpost. “How
stupid are you? They’re lying to you! Whatever they’ve told you,
whatever they’ve done, it’s all lies, you stupid little
girl!”

“
No, they’re not …” I stammered, his
words dislodging a deeply buried fear that had been brewing but
hidden inside me. I jumped off the bed and ran out of the room, Max
on my heels.

It was my first time in the atrium since
finding out that the grand marble statue encased an even grander
secret. I stood there now, gawking at it, envisioning the
dark–haired sleeping beauty entombed within. The atrium’s tranquil,
inviting atmosphere had altered for me with this knowledge,
replaced by a disquieting eeriness, as if unseen eyes were peering
out at me.

“
I hear her voice sometimes in the
dead of night, whispering to me.”

I turned to see Mortimer standing beside me,
his attention fixated on the marble face. I hadn’t heard him
approach. A glimmer of what could be adoration revealed itself in
his eyes before they glazed over with their typical ice. I wasn’t
sure how to respond to Mortimer’s admission so I kept quiet,
turning my attention back to the statue.

Max stood quietly on my other side, unconcerned
by his previous master’s presence. That told me Mortimer wasn’t
likely there to harm me. Not physically, anyway.

“
Viggo had this atrium built as a
replica of a villa he and Veronique visited. It was one of her
favorite places. She adored the flowers and the balconies. So he
decided it should be the first thing she sees when she’s
released.”

“
Makes sense,” I murmured. Mortimer
was acting uncharacteristically
nice.

“
It’s not fair, what has happened to
you, what we’ve asked of you. I realize that,” he continued, still
not looking at me.

Is he trying to apologize?

“
But sometimes, when someone means
everything to you—when the only reason you’re alive is to see their
face again—you’ll accept all consequences that go along with that
chance. Even if it means someone else will suffer.”

Not a good apology,
I concluded
bitterly. “Well, as long as
you’re
comfortable with me
being cursed.”

Mortimer smirked. “Maybe you’ll understand one
day.”

I decided what I wanted to say. “How can you be
so selfish? How can you look someone in the eye, knowing what
you’re doing to them?”

He turned to gaze at me with that blank,
emotionless stare of his. “You don’t. You don’t let yourself see
them. You don’t let yourself feel anything for them. You look right
through them. Understand?” He turned away again, his face
stone.

Is that what he’s doing now? Looking
through me?
It suddenly dawned on me that Mortimer may have a
thick, impenetrable mask of his own, that he was hiding behind an
illusion as Viggo had before. Only for Mortimer, it was a mask of
necessary disconnect. There was a different Mortimer underneath it.
Who he was—that was a mystery. But it was likely the man Veronique
had fallen madly in love with.

“
No. I don’t understand,” I replied.
“But maybe it’s because I’m human. We can’t be so single–minded and
callous.”

Mortimer barked laughter. “You’d be surprised
how single–minded and callous a human can be. Nine hundred years is
an awfully long time to witness human nature, Evangeline. I’ve seen
some things that would haunt your dreams every night for decades.”
He paused. “It’s also a long time to witness what vampires are
capable of—the deceit, the treachery, the games. Remember when you
believed we were drugging you and dropping you in Central Park to
amuse ourselves?” he asked.

I nodded, smiling wistfully. It felt like years
ago. How much easier life might be if that had been
true.

“
If there was need to do that, we
would have. Just as, if there was a need to pretend to love
someone, any vampire would.”

There he was, implying what I dreaded: that
everything was staged. That the caresses, the kisses, the whispers
of “I love you” were all an act to acquire my complete
trust.

“
Your money will be in an account by
the end of today.” With that, he was off, leaving me in a quiet
atrium, wallowing in misery.

He couldn’t be right. But if he was … that was
my breaking point. I’d welcome death with open arms.

I
was still standing in front
of the statue, considering the awful possibility that Caden was
playing me like the stupid, gullible human girl that I was, when
the garage door slowly creaked open and a jet black Bentley pulled
in.

“
Who’s that?” I asked
Max.

The Foreros
, he answered, rolling his
Rs dramatically to emphasize their Spanish ethnicity.

I frowned, trying in vain to recall mention of
them. “And who are they?” I asked as a middle–aged man and woman
stepped out of the car, followed by a younger male and female
version of them. They looked about my age. All four had exotic,
dark features—black hair and olive complexions.

My eyes widened.” They’re human!”

Yes. Though some would call them
“dinner.”

“
So now you’re a comic,” I muttered,
scowling. I heard that strange snorting that was Max’s
laughter.

The older man nodded once at Leo, then
continued into the building as if he owned it, an air of confidence
swirling around him. The others followed closely behind him, the
young male and female peering around the atrium in awe, as if it
was their first time here. The girl suddenly stumbled. I shuddered
as I watched her fall facedown to the cobblestones in the exact
place where Ursula had met her demise, like it was some sort of
reenactment.

“
Klutz,” the guy—presumably her
brother—muttered, though he stopped to wait for her. When she
didn’t get up, he quickly crouched and placed his hand on her
shoulder. “Valentina?” She didn’t respond. “Valentina?”

I was already running toward them. By the time
I reached her, the girl was conscious and sitting up on her knees,
her big, brown, doe–like eyes darting around, curiously surveying
the space as if disoriented.

“
Are you okay?” I asked.

“
Yes … I think so. I just got
lightheaded for a moment. Must have been the flight.” She had a
high–pitched, childlike voice. Glancing up at me, she smiled shyly.
With her brother’s help, she got to her feet, brushing off her pant
legs.

“
Learn how to walk,” the guy
grumbled, stalking off.

She flushed. Turning to me, she said, “I’m
Valentina.” She offered me a flimsy hand.

I took it. “Evangeline. And don’t worry. That
was nothing. I’m the queen of pass–out lately. It’s pretty
embarrassing, actually.”

She giggled sweetly. “Nice to meet
you.”

“
Valentina!” a woman’s thick Spanish
voice called from inside.

“
Coming, Mama!” She nodded once at
me, then tore down the path and sprinted up the stairs,
disappearing within seconds.

I walked back toward where Max stood watching
two servants empty the trunk of several suitcases. “Do they live
here?” I whispered to Max.

On and off.

“
Seriously? Who are
they?”

Carlos, Camila, Julian, and Valentina
Forero. Viggo and Mortimer’s ‘beard’ family,
Max replied. I
could tell he found the entire matter amusing.

“
What do you mean, ‘beard’—like a
disguise?”

Yes; sometimes they find it useful to
employ legitimate families, to hide assets and
such.

My face screwed up in shock. “Do these people
know who they’re living with? Who they’re covering for?”

Sometimes they compel the families, but
it’s less work when they can find one that only needs promises of
an easy, lavish lifestyle in order to comply.