Allegiance (25 page)

“I know but … if he thinks we’re together, then …”
You and I can’t be
, I finished in my head, unable to say the words.

“For now. Just for now.” Caden pulled me into another embrace.

As my head rested against Caden’s chest, I stared at the front door. He was the old Bishop, but still the wrong one. This was so much worse than having Caden think I’d been with Julian. So much worse …

“When this is all over,” I said.

“When it’s over, we’ll remind him of her,” Sofie agreed. “For now, though, with this war coming, we need all the help we can get. We can’t worry about him making things worse, causing scenes in public venues.”

Her mention of scenes brought me back to the attack, and Lilly. “Lilly will listen to you, Sofie. I told her to defer to you. I don’t know how to plan a war.” I had my own internal war to deal with.

“Good. She’s smart as a whip, that one.” Sofie said. “Dangerous and conniving, but smart. Watch out for her, Evangeline. She’s sworn her allegiance to you. That means she won’t harm you and she will do as you ask, but that doesn’t mean she can’t stab you in the back in some roundabout way. I wouldn’t doubt for a second that she tipped off the Sentinel, just so she could go in and save you … to earn your trust. Kidnap you without kidnapping you.”

I snorted.
Surprise, surprise. Can’t trust a vampire.
“Do you think it’s real? Or is she tricking us?”

“I’ll go find out. You, though,” her gentle fingers reached up to prod at my fat lip, “need to go get cleaned up. I see a cut there, but … no … it doesn’t need stitches, thank goodness. I’ll get Ivan.”

“No,” Caden interrupted. “I’ll do it.”

Sofie opened her mouth to object, but Caden brushed it off. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’ll take all the time with Evangeline that I can get.” He turned me down the hall with one hand wrapped protectively around my shoulder, the other holding my hand. We walked to the main bathroom in silence—the one where Ivan had stitched me up last time. The little medical case still sat on the counter.

“I should just move in here …” I said as Caden flicked on the light switch.

I gasped. The left side of my jaw was a sickly purplish-red and twice the normal size, outsized only by my lip, which was blackish-purple and easily three times bigger than usual. Dried blood had caked around the corner of my mouth, down to my jawline. Even with all the vampire bites and gashes on my hands and arms, this was by far the worst-looking injury I had acquired to date.

Lifting me under the arms like I weighed no more than a large piece of cotton, Caden gently positioned me onto the counter beside the sink. I trembled under his touch.

“So you decided to risk a war in the streets so you could go Christmas shopping?” He popped open the case and pulled out some antiseptic, cotton balls, and salt.

“When you say it like that, it sounds pretty lame,” I looked down at my feet, feeling the burn in my cheeks. “I just needed to get away for a while. Things have been hard lately.” And they were about to get a whole lot harder with this new Bishop issue …

Caden lined the items beside me on the counter. Reaching up, he gently gripped the coat zipper under my chin and unzipped me. His hands slid inside my jacket to my shoulders and pushed off the coat, sending fire to the butterflies already fluttering around in my stomach.

“What’d you get me?” he teased.

I grinned broadly but then winced. “Who says I got you anything?” I wondered if that expensive watch in my inner pocket survived the whole ordeal unscathed.

Caden chuckled as he saturated a cotton ball with antiseptic. He gently dabbed at my cheek and my lip. I winced from the sting and he stopped. “It’s okay, keep going,” I whispered. I watched him silently, gritting my teeth against the bite, distracting myself by visually tracing the lines of his beautiful face. His expression, suddenly more somber, his voice dropping an octave or two.

“I guess Amelie got something for Julian?” There was that tinge of bitterness again.

“Yeah. Does it bother you?”

He shook his head. “Does it bother you?”

“No.”
Yes, but not for the reason you think, Caden
.

He moistened another cotton pad and began smoothing it over my jawline, down along my throat. It didn’t hurt so much here. It was soothing. “They did a great job on your face,” he muttered.

“I’m collecting scars.”

That earned a small snort, followed by a shake of disapproval. “There,” he whispered, looking down into my eyes and I remembered then, again, how I could lose myself in them. Filling a cup with cold water from the tap and sprinkling some salt into it, he handed it to me. “Rinse.” After I did so, he leaned in and planted the lightest kiss on the unmangled side of my face.

I groaned. “What are we going to do about Bishop?”

His lips curved into a sad smile as his hands dropped to my thighs. “Nothing. Play along.”

Play along?
“I can’t!”

“You have to,” Caden urged. “Remember how I had to do the same with Rachel to keep you safe?”

I groaned again, more loudly. Those were the longest days of my life, watching Rachel molest him like a cougar in heat. Before I knew how he felt, I was purely jealous. After … I wanted to rake her eyeballs out. “But it’s not the same! This is Bishop! He’s my friend!”

“Yes,” Caden’s hands lifted to my shoulder, leveling me with a lecturing look. “Your friend who you don’t want to be imprisoned—your friend who you don’t want suffering in silent agony.”

“But …” My rebuttal died on my lips. I had already lost the argument. Caden was right. Still … “Doesn’t it bother you?” I whimpered.

Caden shut his eyes. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, his nostrils flaring slightly. “You have no idea … I wanted to put my fist through a wall earlier, when he was kissing you. But then I have to remind myself that this guy is not just any guy. He’s Bishop and this is only temporary. Besides, it’s way better than knowing you and Julian …” His voice drifted, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

I dropped my gaze, another guilty dagger in my heart over my deception. We sat in silence for a moment. “What if I can’t do it?” I asked softly. “What if I accidently mention Fi … her? What if—”

Caden’s hand lifted to the good side of my face. “You won’t,” he whispered. “And you can do it. Sofie and I already talked. We’re going to convince him you need space with all this stuff going on. Something like that. Sofie will take care of it.”

I nodded and stifled a yawn. The poor sleep and the various attacks were wearing me down. “Stay right here,” he whispered and then he disappeared, returning about fifteen seconds later with a bag of frozen peas in his hand. Before I could move, he scooped me into his arms and we were sailing upstairs to my room. I was under the covers in twenty seconds.

“Sleep now.” He pushed the hair off my face. I had to admit, the bed felt especially welcoming at this point, as my muscles relaxed into its softness.

“Stay?” I pleaded softly. He paused and I figured he was deciding how he would deny me this time. But instead, he swung his legs onto the bed to lie beside me. He leaned forward, elbows and hands on either side of my pillow.

Pressing his forehead against mine, he whispered, “Just for a little while.” My breath hitched as his lips grazed mine, first as soft as a feather but then growing with fervor. A little too fervently. I tried not to flinch, but of course, Caden caught it, instantly shifting his mouth to the side of my neck. His nose trailed against my skin behind my ear, tickling me.

“You should ease up on the Bactine.”

“I had an amateur nursemaid,” I murmured, delighting in his closeness. Why the sudden change in him, I couldn’t say, but I wasn’t about to question it. I wouldn’t utter a word. I would simply enjoy. I slid my arms around his chest and pulled him down to lie on top of me with all the strength I could muster.

“No, no …” Caden chuckled, reaching behind to peel my arms off his torso, much to my protest. “You need to sleep.” He gently flipped me onto my side and slid in to spoon me, snuggling close. A cool hand pushed my matted hair off my face. I felt the lightest kiss near the nape of my neck, igniting my insides. It was extinguished quickly with a bag of frozen peas against my face. The icy chill brought almost instant relief to the throb, numbing it to the point that the pain almost disappeared. And it was like that, held safely in Caden’s arms, that I somehow drifted off to sleep.

Familiar prickles sparked through my body as I struggled to focus—the sign that I was now sharing Veronique’s body with her, seeing the world through her eyes. Fortunately, I had left my mangled face and stitched arm back in France. Unfortunately, Veronique had plenty of injuries to make up for them. My entire body ached right down to the bone, like someone had whipped, burned, and beaten me within an inch of my life.

I wasn’t in a dark, dank cell this time. I wasn’t strapped to a metal table, either. I was now in a quiet little room with dove-gray walls and ethereal curtains. A single bed with a simple crocheted quilt sat to the right of the armchair where I rested. I could see that my tattered, bloodied dress had been replaced by a long white cable-knit sweater and white leggings with lace at the bottoms. Dappled yellow and blue skin peeked out from the cuffs at my wrists. God only knew what lay beneath my sleeves.

Slowly, holding my breath against the twinges of pain, I leaned forward to inspect my feet. A thick layer of white gauze protected them, wrapped around so fully that they looked mummified. I shuddered, memories of that blowtorch sending an icy shiver running along my neck and shoulders.

“Allo … Evangeline?” Veronique’s voice called out, moving my lips.

My short hairs spiked. She knew I was there. I could no longer play the silent observer. “You can tell I’m here?” I asked timidly.

“Oui. I feel tickles.” Her voice sounded much firmer than the last time.

“How are you?”
This back and forth feels so strange!
For anyone witnessing it, they’d quickly write Veronique off as a mentally disturbed young woman.

“I have been better. One of the witches put a special salve on my burns to help,” she explained. “They say they can’t heal my feet. I don’t know why …”

I know why, Veronique. But I’m not sure I want to tell you just yet.

Would she transform into Walking Death as well? Maybe not. Maybe she’d be like Julian. “It sounds like they’re treating you better,” I said instead, forcing the disturbing questions from my head, thanking God that we didn’t share our thoughts like we shared her body.

“Yes … they brought me up to this room and gave me food and water. And they’ve left me alone for some reason.”

An inkling of suspicion pricked me. Why would a group of witches hell-bent on setting fire to her to get her to speak just a day ago now feed and care for her? Especially when they knew they had an occasional intruder coming to watch? Something didn’t make sense.

What are you up to now, Cruella?
I swallowed. “What have you told them?”

A pause. “Everything I know, which isn’t much. But everything.”

A painful lump detonated in my throat. “What exactly is everything?”

“How the vampires had no venom and how Sofie was trying to fix it.”

I sighed heavily. “Yeah, that’s a pretty big one.” Now the Sentinel and the witches knew. They knew they needed to strike while the vampires’ numbers were low. My eyes roamed the room again. “So you’re still in the same place?”

“I guess so … I’m not sure. I was unconscious for a while after …” Her voice choked off. No matter. I knew what she was referring to. “Why hasn’t Sofie come yet?”

Chunks of my heart tumbled, hearing her shaky voice, rank with the belief that her sister had abandoned her to this, that she was allowing this. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t lie. Not about this. I took a deep breath. “Because she doesn’t know you’re out, Veronique,” I answered softly.

“What?”

I had no idea how to explain. Where to begin? What to tell her? I didn’t even know how much time I had. Likely only minutes, in which case I needed to get as much information as I could from her. Carefully, though … I couldn’t tell her anything that could harm us if the witches decided to have another run at torture. She had already proven easily persuaded to divulge information.

“Listen, Veronique,” I began, “we probably don’t have a lot of time and I need some information from you. I’m going to get you out of here, I promise.”
If we can figure out where you are!
“But I need to know a few things.”

She paused hesitantly. “Okay …”

“Okay … how many witches and Sentinel have you seen?”

“Oh … I don’t know,” she answered, thinking. “Hundreds, maybe.”

Wow. “Okay. Do you know how people are getting in and out?”

“Uh … I don’t know, Evangeline. I’m sorry. I’ve been locked up the entire time.”

I sighed. Tortured prisoners didn’t make good insiders. “Do you know who that dark-haired one is?”

“Oui!” she answered quickly, excited to have an answer. “Her name is Imogen. She is not nice.”

That’s an understatement
. I could see how everyone took Veronique for a sweetheart. “Has she said anything … interesting? Given you clues of any sort?”