Asylum(85)

Cold sweat broke out over my body. My confusion grew—what had devastated the atrium, and how was this voice that wasn’t my voice speaking? One of the smoldering heaps on the ground caught my attention. A hand. The heaps were bodies. Oh God . . . My wide eyes drifted over all the little flaming piles, too numerous to count, until one caught my attention. It hadn’t fully burned, and the face was angled toward me, dead violet eyes staring in my direction. Fiona.

I screamed.





13. Lying in Wait




The jungle seemed more dense than I remembered from my last trip here four years earlier, to negotiate the deal with the tribe. It hadn’t been a pleasant exchange—not surprising. They were deceptive, repulsive creatures, programmed by the Fates to hate my kind, both witches and vampires. Even with some level of affinity to me for creating them, it didn’t take long for the chief to threaten to touch me because he didn’t like my “vampire smell.” I was alone then. Now I was bringing four vampires with me.

As we ran through the jungle at breakneck speed, ferns and other foliage whipping our faces, I felt the telltale signs of the tribe’s proximity. The magical purple helixes floating within my body began breaking apart and fizzling out. Soon there was not one thread I could grasp. I felt naked without my magic. I hated it.

“We’re close?” Mage asked, discomfort tingeing her voice. Whatever sorceress’s magic she had must have vanished as well.

“Fire. That way,” Caden called, nodding to the north, just as a whiff of burning deadwood hit me. I instantly veered in that direction to lead the way, but Mage grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “I’ll go first. I’m faster than you.” She was gone before I could respond, Caden on her heels. Bishop, Amelie, and I took off in pursuit, tearing soundlessly through the jungle.

In minutes we cleared the jungle undergrowth at the edge of the tribe’s village—a collection of simple huts. They were guarded by a dozen tigers, already aware of our presence. Beyond them, the tribe circled a giant pyre, hands linked, chanting in that shrill, nails-on-chalkboard screech. The sound of it, of their mysterious black magic, sent shivers down my spine.

My eyes immediately zeroed in on the fire—on the structure above it. On the platform where a blonde girl knelt, her body engulfed in flames, surrounded by a brilliant blue light. I heard her screams.

Mage grabbed my arm a split second before I would have plowed through the line of tigers and lethal bodies to rescue Evangeline. Her vise-like grip stalled me. “Think, Sofie,” she warned. “You’ll certainly die if you go in there, and we don’t know what they’re doing yet. She’s not burning.”

But it was too late. I’d lost all ability to think when I spotted Evangeline up there, screaming in terror, her slender, frail body enveloped in flames. If I needed to breathe, I don’t think I was capable, anxiety so tightened my chest. She wasn’t burning, as Mage said. But what were they doing to her? What would their magic do to her? My blood ran cold with the fear of that unknown, my brain concocting all kinds of horrible scenarios. Would she turn into one of them?

“Let’s not run haphazardly into this,” Mage counseled. “Viggo and Mortimer don’t have her yet.”

I nodded slowly, peering over to see Bishop and Amelie with their hands on Caden’s shoulders, restraining him. Thank God Bishop had buried his grief long enough to be of some use to us. I felt Mage’s grip on my arm loosen slightly, but not completely.

Mercifully, Evangeline had stopped screaming. I looked back out at the horrific scene before us—and noticed the horde of tigers concentrating on another side of the jungle, guarding the spot as if someone lay hidden within. I’m sure someone did. Two someones.

Viggo and Mortimer were here.





14. Freedom




I barely noticed that the flames had disappeared from my body or that the furious drumbeat and the chanting had fallen silent, I was so overwhelmed by the terrifyingly realistic image of Fiona’s dead eyes. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. The atrium was fine, Veronique was in her statue until Sofie released her, Caden and my friends were safe.

But the fear still gripped me, even as the tribesmen hooked their pronged poles to the platform and brought me down from my perch. In seconds I was at ground level beside the fire pit, still kneeling and unable to move. The tribeswomen flocked forward to surround me. One of them bent and reached toward me with her snakeskin-covered hands—toward my chest. Toward my pendant, still hanging around my neck.

I watched in a catatonic state as she cupped the pendant with both hands, then closed her fist over it. And then yanked on the chain.