31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Lea
T he others joined Lea and Gray as the fire crackled away into embers, the bodies crumbling to ash, and even then, being consumed until nothing remained but twenty-three scorched patches of stone. Gray knelt next to his wife, a steadying hand on her back until the last flicker died off, and only then did they turn their eyes away from the makeshift graves of the victims.
It was done.
Lea’s body felt heavy as she turned to Emma, who gave her a sad smile. Her face had relaxed a fraction, the lines around her eyes less pronounced. Emma nodded in confirmation. The dead were at rest. It was all they could do.
She finally stood when Erik cleared his throat behind her.
"Did you find anything that would help?" she asked.
"Not yet." Evangeline shook her head. "Most of the villagers said they never saw Alaric. That they were too lost in the chaos to notice him, but a few said he was here…"
"Ordering his men to round up those without the Lonely Death to put them in the church." Erik finished for her, his tone grim.
Lea’s chest felt tight with anxiety. Nothing. All of this, and they were no closer to finding him than before they’d left the castle.
"Did you learn anything else?" Gray asked, and Lea didn’t miss the hint of desperation in his voice.
"Just that he has a group of royal guards with him. The villagers estimated about thirty-five."
A crack rang out as the back corner of the church crumbled, and Evangeline’s head snapped to the burned-out building. Lea froze, watching in rapt silence as her birth-mother moved toward it as if under a spell. She was nearly floating, one hand extended out in front of her as her graceful steps carried her forward. Her forehead scrunched again, that familiar look of pain etching into her features as Lea followed behind her. Was it a vision? A premonition?
Lea hurried after her, placing a hand on Evangeline’s shoulder as if keeping her close would allow her to see or feel whatever was causing Evangeline to move as if hypnotized.
The witch’s long fingers trailed the remains of the outer wall, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Lea watched intensely, barely breathing as her heart thundered and her blood roared in her ears. The wind blew softly, pushing her hair back from her face. It was soothing, comforting, but it also seemed to speak to her. Pay attention , it said. Something is happening. Something important.
Gray opened his mouth to speak, but Lea held up a hand, stopping him. Evangeline shuffled sideways toward the door, moving up the stone steps and rolling her neck from side to side.
In a second, Evangeline’s demeanor shifted. Her soft, gentle movements became rigid, and her lips twisted into a smile that looked…wrong. Crooked and gleeful and sick.
With strength far more powerful than her weak, starved body should have allowed, Evangeline slammed the door shut, latching the large bolt into the iron slot. Evangeline laughed a horrible, wicked laugh, and began to mutter. Tears burned Lea’s eyes, and her stomach flipped as she realized what she was watching.
Evangeline was acting out what Alaric had done like she was possessed. She was no longer looking at her mother’s face, but Alaric’s, twisted with excitement. Her fingers tapped against her side in exhilaration, and her posture tall and confident. But what truly made Lea’s stomach fill with bile was the absolute joy on Evangeline’s face—Alaric’s expression as he'd locked all those people inside, knowing what was going to happen to them. Knowing that he would enchant the church to be engulfed in flames the moment someone stepped within the town center.
Women.
Children.
Clutching her chest, Lea forced herself to breathe. Evangeline waved a hand in the air as if enchanting the church herself, then threw her head back and laughed again—a sick horrifying cackle that made Lea’s magic revolt.
It was as if she had become him. The man they hated. The man they hunted.
Evangeline turned, a spry skip in her step as she walked the same path Lea had followed when she’d picked up on Alaric’s magic. Her movements were so different from her usual, elegant grace—eerily similar to Alaric’s pompous posture and arrogant stride. Gray and Erik followed behind them, none of them speaking as Evangeline began to whistle.
It made Lea physically ill, seeing how Alaric had been so lighthearted as he’d walked away from the destruction he caused. As if it was a relief to finally unburden himself and the kingdom of this village.
Evangeline reached the rushing river and paused, twisting her head side to side as she searched for something. But what? She reminded Lea of an owl, her head turning so far it was unnatural as she looked all around her periphery .
She stepped forward until her dress was soaked to just above her knees, then bent down and splashed the cold water on her face. She lowered her head, cupping her hands and drinking from the stream. She suddenly seemed agitated, her joy evaporating as she kicked at the water, and she wiped her mouth with her forearm, looking back up to the sky impatiently.
The rush of murdering the townspeople was completely gone, her smile falling and her eyebrows scrunching in annoyance.
Evangeline scowled, crossing her arms over her chest.
"There you are," she finally said, still looking at the sky. "Fucking witches," she muttered under her breath.
Lea and Gray looked at one another, dread creeping across her skin. Her arms turned to gooseflesh, and she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder, the hair on the back of her neck rising.
Evangeline stared at the empty air in front of her for several more seconds, then suddenly her head was thrown backward, her arms spread out to the sides as her back arched.
The woods went silent as she screamed out in pain, and Lea rushed forward, grabbing her around the waist before she could collapse into the water. Gray was at her side in an instant, helping bring her back to shore.
Evangeline rolled over, vomiting onto the rocky shoreline, heaving again and again until there was nothing left.
She took several ragged breaths, lying her head on her hands as if the effort of keeping her head up was unfathomable.
"Eudora," she said, spitting the name out as if it was ingested poison. "It was Eudora who helped him escape…"