Sofie’s brow furrowed deeply as she squeezed my knee again. “Until I figure out something better. It doesn’t hurt, I promise. The spell works like a live current. If I break it to cast another powerful spell, or because I’m injured, which happens frequently,” she gave Viggo a sidelong glare, “the binding will fall apart. It’s not ideal.” Like the spell Ursula had used on Max and his brothers, back in the mountains. Julian attacked her—his sister, possessed by a vengeful witch—with antlers in order to break the binding and save us.
With one last forlorn look at Bishop, I took a deep breath, forcing myself to be practical. Sofie was only doing what was best for Bishop and for the rest of the world. She was right. We needed to protect him from himself.
Another stabbing pain jetted through my eardrum, signaling further descent. “You haven’t told me where we’re going yet, Sofie.”
Her smile was both sad and contented. “Home.”
***
“This is home?” I asked as we passed through a set of swirly iron gates, anchored in a solid-looking, ten-foot brick wall. All nine of us, plus Max, were crammed into a giant black SUV limousine resembling a tank. Sofie didn’t acknowledge me, her focus fixed elsewhere, a bittersweet gleam glean in her eyes. She was miles away. Years ago, in a former life.
I peered out the window as our vehicle snaked along the winding road, taking in acres of rolling snow-blanketed hills, speckled with stately trees, illuminated by the half-moon that cast a spotlight over the silent, sleeping night. Ahead and to our right was a clearing of pristine snow, a large dip at its center. A frozen pond, perhaps. For some reason, I imagined a tiny redheaded girl splashing around in it during the summer, smiling, happy, free.
“Look up there,” Caden whispered, pulling me closer to him. I leaned over until his cheek was only inches from mine. He hadn’t let go of me since the moment we stepped off the plane, as if determined to be physically attached to me at all times, something I was more than willing to permit.
I followed his pointed finger to a mesmerizing sea of white lights lining the road. Hundreds of thousands of twinkling lights, coiled like snakes around naked tree branches. “Christmas lights,” I whispered breathlessly. It was almost Christmas, an event I had completely forgotten about given the circumstances. As we got closer, the trees convened above the drive, creating a spectacular half-mile-long tunnel of glittering lights. I gazed up in awe, speechless.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Sofie murmured. “I have someone put up lights every year, even though I don’t come here anymore …”
“Pretty doesn’t cut it.”
“We should have known you’d kept this place,” Mortimer grumbled, though with a touch of admiration in his voice. “You buried your trail well. Even I couldn’t find your fingerprints when I looked into it.”
Sofie answered with a smile. “And aren’t you happy I did? It’s been so long since …” Her voice drifted off for a moment. Since what? “No one will link it with us. At least not in the immediate future.”
I inhaled another sharp breath as our vehicle crested over a small hill to reveal an enormous stone-covered castle with three stories of windows and a dozen chimneys. Spiraling turrets jutted out of the steep roofs, interspersed with evenly spaced oval dormers. The place oozed of history—hundreds of years of it—and yet was pristinely maintained as if only recently built.
“Did you grow up here, Sofie?” I asked, a mixture of awe and excitement that I may finally be sneaking a glimpse of Sofie’s human past.
She shook her head. “No, but I did spend an awful lot of time here at one point in my life.” Again, that forlorn tone that Sofie normally hid so well glinted through in her words.
The circular drive wrapped around a fountain and sleeping garden. With the wheels coming to a squeaking stop, Caden cracked open the door. Crisp winter air swirled in, enveloping me. I shivered.
Finally! Max’s massive body shoved us out of the way as he leapt out of the truck with the agility of a house cat instead of a three-hundred-pound werebeast. He stretched his long legs before prancing toward the front door.
I followed him out of the truck, my leather boots—another swap from Amelie—landing softly in the freshly fallen snow. Sofie was already out and gazing up at one of the windows, a nostalgic smile on her plump, always-red lips. “How long has it been since you’ve been back here?” I asked, my arms hugging my ill-dressed body against the cold.
“Too long,” was all she said, so softly, and then I watched her walk toward the grand carved mahogany doors.