I pressed my fingertips against my temples, trying to ease my tension. I needed to focus on the more immediate task, the one I could handle: an update for Leo. He needed to know about the Sentinel and the truth of this parallel world. But more importantly, I needed to know how my Evangeline was coping.
Opening my mind up to the portal into Leo’s mind, one of the simplest yet most useful spells I had designed over all my years, I reached out, following my mind’s eye as it sailed down the long, blue-tinged tunnel to the link in Leo’s head. The link I had planted the night I healed his wife. At the time, I had no specific plans for him; I just recognized an opportunity to call on a favor in the future, if needed. Boy, had I ever taken advantage of my dear friend Leo’s debt to me!
I reached the portal in the old warlock’s head within seconds. Oddly enough, it looked like a solid little wooden door at the end of a tunnel. I prodded at it, and sensed it open. How is Evangeline? I sent in greeting. And then I sensed something slither up behind my message. Like a tiny anchor affixed to my words, something was trailing them there, through the tunnel, to Leo. An invader.
I slammed the portal shut and sailed back into my own head, forcefully breaking off the communication before Leo could send out a probe to reply. Someone had tagged onto my message! Few had the skill to pull that off. There were only two possibilities within these walls: the five thousand-year-old vampire who had powers I couldn’t grasp yet, or the meek witchling who couldn’t meet my gaze. Both seemed impossible. Either way, someone would pay.
With shock and rage driving each step, I crashed through the French doors to the atrium, unwilling to take the time to open them. Shards of glass and wood flew in every direction. I didn’t even flinch.
Only a few Ratheus vampires remained in the atrium. The rest, including Caden and friends, were either chasing the blood to the cellar or hiding out—away from the new witch, no doubt. Mage was nowhere in sight. I marched over to where Viggo and Ileana stood. The little witch-girl slipped behind him, her guilty eyes going wide. I had my answer. Her? Seriously? That tiny wisp of a thing, her magic immature and weak? How?
“Oh! I forgot to mention,” Viggo began, his chest puffing out, “Ileana is something of a genius in her circles—decades ahead of where she should be, and extremely powerful.” He reached over to lift the chain of her necklace. “This thing serves a dual purpose; it masks the power of her magic.” He smiled knowingly at me. “I thought it best. I didn’t want you feeling threatened by a witch more powerful than you in here.”
So I wouldn’t suspect her of being able to tap into my communication spell. His words only fed my rage. I stalked toward her, my intentions likely clear as day in my blazing eyes. Had she been able to locate Leo through her probe? No, it would appear not. Viggo and Mortimer would be furiously dialing coordinates to rush their henchmen to Siberia at this very moment.
“Now Sofie,” Mortimer began, stepping forward.
“What? You’re on his side now?” I spat.
“I’ve never been on Viggo’s side,” he answered bitterly. “I’m on Veronique’s side. Unlike you, it would seem.”
My words caught in my throat with that comment. When I spoke again, my voice was even and cool. “So, Viggo, you seem to have found someone who can tap into communication spells. How clever of you. And quick.” My eyes darted over to Ileana’s face, peeking out from behind Viggo’s broad shoulder. What else could she do? I knew she couldn’t undo the tomb spell without the pendant, so Veronique wasn’t going anywhere. I was pretty sure she couldn’t unwind the Merth I had so intricately woven through these walls in an impenetrable barrier. But I wasn’t a hundred percent sure anymore.
“What can I say, Sofie? You’re the one who gave me the idea when you said I’d have to pry it from your head!” Viggo replied with a smug grin. “So, you’ve been keeping close ties to Evangeline through that bastard traitor.”
Fool, I silently admonished myself. But there was nothing I could do about it now, except not allow it to happen again. “Lucky I caught on so quickly,” I murmured.
Viggo’s mouth twisted with displeasure. “Yes, well . . . I guess you’ll have to cut all communication to Leo now, won’t you?”
I struggled to keep my expression calm as panic hit me. He was right. I had to sever my link with Leo, which meant with Evangeline. I would have no way of checking up on her, of knowing how she was doing. And Leo wouldn’t send any messages my way now. He would have sensed me shutting down that connection so abruptly, and I had strictly instructed him not to reach out if he sensed anything “off.” How long before I could connect with him again?