“True, but I have a weapon, and you, Sophie, are the key to unleash it.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “What weapon?”
“Madeleine Boucher.”
The name sounds familiar. I search through my memories until it comes to me. “I thought she died.”
“I thought so too, but it seems Solomon Corvicus and the High Witch have been keeping a secret right under everyone’s noses. Madeleine is a prisoner in the bowels of Bloodstone Institute, and you’re going to free her.”
I shiver. The stories I’ve heard about the Boucher family are terrifying. “Why me? Surely you could have already freed her.”
“Because your blood is the key, my dear. Madeleine is Queen Tatiana’s sister… your aunt.”
Son of a bitch.
Four
SOPHIE
Imove from the small room in the basement of my father’s home to an ample suite on the second floor. This place is new—new to me, that is—and I don’t recognize anything. Father told me we relocated from London to Salem, Massachusetts, while I was in hibernation, but he evaded the question about the exact date of our migration. He doesn’t want me to know how long I’ve been sleeping, which makes me think it’s been a long while. But I won’t get the information from him, that much I know.
My new bedroom has been decorated exactly how it had been before. The same dark wood furniture, the same four-poster bed with a canopy, a pink duvet with ruffles, and several pillows propped against the headboard. I remember I used to love everything I see before my eyes, but now all those romantic frills and colors are making me gag.
I pull up the chair in front of the vanity desk and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I still look sickly pale with dark circles under my eyes. I’ll need a few more feedings to look healthier. But it’s not only my skin tone that’s displeasing, it’s my long, dirty-blonde hair too. Everything about my appearance makes me look fragile and weak.
A flash of memory crosses in front of my eyes. I hear an ugly, taunting laughter, then feel putrid breath blowing on my face. My hair is undone, and a lock is used around my neck to choke me. I close my eyes, shaking from head to toe. Was I attacked? Was that the reason I went into hibernation?
The memory recedes to a dark corner in my mind, but the dread remains like an oil stain on my soul. A shiver runs down my spine, giving me goose bumps. Hastily,I undo my braids, yanking at the strands of hair, mindless of the pain. Then I proceed to brush my hair roughly.
“What has your hair done to you, darling?” a familiar voice asks from behind me.
I swivel in my chair and see my best friend leisurely lying on my bed.
“Tish!” I jump from my seat and run to her.
Tish leaps off the bed and, purring, rubs her black fur against my legs. “Hello, Sophie.”
I bend over and pick her up, something she hates, but I don’t care. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I don’t believe you. You didn’t even ask for me.”
“My brain was scrambled. It still is.” I set her down before she decides to scratch me.
“Excuses, excuses. As your bloody familiar, I should have been the first thing on your mind.”
Tish can be so dramatic, but her over-the-top personality balances mine. As someone who can’t feel much, I live vicariously through Tish’s colorful experiences.
“I killed someone today,” I say.
She glances at me, and I swear I can see a lift of her nonexistent eyebrow. “Already?”
I return to the vanity desk and resume brushing my hair. “It was the mage my father hired to wake me.”
“What did he do?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I caught bloodlust straight away, and he wasn’t fast enough to protect his neck.”
“Yikes. Good thing I wasn’t around.”
