Read Online Anathema (Causal Enchantment, #1) by K.A. Tucker - Free Book Online
Authors: K.A. Tucker
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guess,” I agreed,
suddenly self–conscious as the three of them stared intently at me.
Even Max perked his ears. I began describing the forest and the
river and quickly found myself pulled back into the stark reality
of the night. They interrupted frequently with
questions.
“ You saw that same statue in your
dream?” Sofie asked.
I nodded.
“ And this … Jethro—he could hear
your heartbeat?” she continued.
“ Only when it was pounding, I
think.”
“ That silver rope—that sounds
horrendous!” Viggo said when I described the flimsy cord that had
somehow effectively bound Amelie.
“ Describe these people again,”
Mortimer instructed, his expression grim.
I described the group a second time, careful
not to emphasize my pathetic infatuation with Caden, though I’d
have been curious to hear Viggo’s interpretation of that
part.
“ And you’re sure no one … hurt you
in any way?” Mortimer probed.
I shook my head, and remembered the pendant.
“Caden said this necklace saved my life somehow. I don’t know … it
was bizarre.”
Viggo eyed the pendant. “Did it do anything
strange?”
“ Yes! It shimmered in a
reddish–orange color. Like a sunset. And it was hot. Does that mean
anything?”
“ It means you had quite the dream.
And you remember it with such clarity, you’d think it was real,”
Mortimer answered, smirking. “How is that bump?” He reached over,
his hand roughly stroking the side of my head. I flinched.
“Ah—that’s a nasty welt. But you should be all right. We’ll get you
a helmet to sleep in.”
He turned away. “Sofie, you and I have some
business to attend to. Max, why don’t you take Evangeline out to
the atrium?” Mortimer’s voice had turned unnaturally light and
airy, as if he were hiding something.
“ Of course, Mortimer,” Sofie said,
responding with a sweet smile. Their eyes exchanged a silent
message.
5.
Veronique
“ D o you know
what Sofie needs me to do, Max?” I asked the giant beast as we
strolled along a path in the atrium, my arm hanging over his back.
“No, of course you don’t. I don’t either, but so far, this trip has
been one giant fairy tale.” I stooped to pick a sprig of lavender
and inhaled deeply, relishing its comforting fragrance. “It’s got
to end sometime soon, I suppose. I’m going to miss you, though,
Max.” I played with one of his cropped ears. He groaned in
response, giving me a quick lick on the cheek.
Such a deceiving
appearance for a big suck.
We stopped in front of the white woman. I gazed
up at the statue’s face, her expression a mixture of tranquility
and anticipation. “Exactly how I feel right now,” I mumbled to her,
sighing.
Evangeline,
someone whispered
faintly.
I turned to look for the source. I couldn’t see
anyone. “Did you hear that?” I asked Max, frowning. He began
tapping his front paws against the stone, clearly excited. “What
are you so happy about?” I asked, confusion deepening my
frown.
Evangeline
.
“ There!” My head whipped around,
eyes searching. “Did you hear—”
A loud crash preceded angry shouts.
“ One hundred and twenty years, you
unreliable witch! You seem to forget. How much longer?” Mortimer’s
voice boomed.
“ I’ve told you what I know!” Sofie
shrieked in response.
Silence.
And then I heard doors creak open to my left.
“Evangeline? Could you be a doll and come here, please, for a
moment?” Viggo’s voice called.
“ Coming!” I scurried toward his
voice, playing the short exchange between Mortimer and Sofie over
in my head.
I wonder what that was about?
And why
would he call her a witch?
He was brusque, but he seemed too
sophisticated to resort to petty name–calling.
I found Viggo holding open a French door,
smiling. “Come, join us in the library.”
Nodding politely, I stepped inside. Sofie and
Mortimer sat on opposite ends of a cocoa–hued tucked–leather couch,
talking casually, as if they hadn’t just been
suddenly self–conscious as the three of them stared intently at me.
Even Max perked his ears. I began describing the forest and the
river and quickly found myself pulled back into the stark reality
of the night. They interrupted frequently with
questions.
“ You saw that same statue in your
dream?” Sofie asked.
I nodded.
“ And this … Jethro—he could hear
your heartbeat?” she continued.
“ Only when it was pounding, I
think.”
“ That silver rope—that sounds
horrendous!” Viggo said when I described the flimsy cord that had
somehow effectively bound Amelie.
“ Describe these people again,”
Mortimer instructed, his expression grim.
I described the group a second time, careful
not to emphasize my pathetic infatuation with Caden, though I’d
have been curious to hear Viggo’s interpretation of that
part.
“ And you’re sure no one … hurt you
in any way?” Mortimer probed.
I shook my head, and remembered the pendant.
“Caden said this necklace saved my life somehow. I don’t know … it
was bizarre.”
Viggo eyed the pendant. “Did it do anything
strange?”
“ Yes! It shimmered in a
reddish–orange color. Like a sunset. And it was hot. Does that mean
anything?”
“ It means you had quite the dream.
And you remember it with such clarity, you’d think it was real,”
Mortimer answered, smirking. “How is that bump?” He reached over,
his hand roughly stroking the side of my head. I flinched.
“Ah—that’s a nasty welt. But you should be all right. We’ll get you
a helmet to sleep in.”
He turned away. “Sofie, you and I have some
business to attend to. Max, why don’t you take Evangeline out to
the atrium?” Mortimer’s voice had turned unnaturally light and
airy, as if he were hiding something.
“ Of course, Mortimer,” Sofie said,
responding with a sweet smile. Their eyes exchanged a silent
message.
5.
Veronique
“ D o you know
what Sofie needs me to do, Max?” I asked the giant beast as we
strolled along a path in the atrium, my arm hanging over his back.
“No, of course you don’t. I don’t either, but so far, this trip has
been one giant fairy tale.” I stooped to pick a sprig of lavender
and inhaled deeply, relishing its comforting fragrance. “It’s got
to end sometime soon, I suppose. I’m going to miss you, though,
Max.” I played with one of his cropped ears. He groaned in
response, giving me a quick lick on the cheek.
Such a deceiving
appearance for a big suck.
We stopped in front of the white woman. I gazed
up at the statue’s face, her expression a mixture of tranquility
and anticipation. “Exactly how I feel right now,” I mumbled to her,
sighing.
Evangeline,
someone whispered
faintly.
I turned to look for the source. I couldn’t see
anyone. “Did you hear that?” I asked Max, frowning. He began
tapping his front paws against the stone, clearly excited. “What
are you so happy about?” I asked, confusion deepening my
frown.
Evangeline
.
“ There!” My head whipped around,
eyes searching. “Did you hear—”
A loud crash preceded angry shouts.
“ One hundred and twenty years, you
unreliable witch! You seem to forget. How much longer?” Mortimer’s
voice boomed.
“ I’ve told you what I know!” Sofie
shrieked in response.
Silence.
And then I heard doors creak open to my left.
“Evangeline? Could you be a doll and come here, please, for a
moment?” Viggo’s voice called.
“ Coming!” I scurried toward his
voice, playing the short exchange between Mortimer and Sofie over
in my head.
I wonder what that was about?
And why
would he call her a witch?
He was brusque, but he seemed too
sophisticated to resort to petty name–calling.
I found Viggo holding open a French door,
smiling. “Come, join us in the library.”
Nodding politely, I stepped inside. Sofie and
Mortimer sat on opposite ends of a cocoa–hued tucked–leather couch,
talking casually, as if they hadn’t just been
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