Vivienne grabbed a cloth napkin and scraped the wetness away, the harsh starched fabric scratching Mireille’s cheeks.
The pounding at the door continued. “Let me in, Vivienne! It’s been centuries. She needs toknow.”
Vivienne crossed to the pot and scooped up a serving of stew so deep red it was almost black. She set the steaming bowl before Mireille—the game-y scent was even more powerful, overtaking the rosemary—then placed a pewter spoon beside the dish and tucked the napkin into Mireille’s collar. “Eat.”
Mireille hesitated, and Vivienne pressed the spoon into her palm.
“Now, Mireille.” Vivienne’s silver eyes blazed with fury and the kaleidoscope of faint color surrounding her pulsed brighter. “Eat!”
Mireille dipped her spoon into the stew and pulled out chunks of reddish-brown meat dripping with dark crimson juices.
Mireille swallowed her rising disgust and took a tentative bite.
It didn’t at all taste how it smelled. It wasn’t revolting.
It wasdelicious.
It tasted like a warm hug. Like tears of joy. Like a blissful day spent with bare toes in the grass and a cloudless, blue sky overheard.
As she chewed, the taste changed.
Bitter fear coated her tongue. The horror of a loved one’s lifeless eyes. The yawning dread of a world coated in ash, burning bodies strewn across a smoldering wasteland.
She chewed once more, and the flavor changed again.
The spicy, hot rage of frustration, with ankles and wrists bound. An inferno of anger. The most familiar taste.
She swallowed, and a blinding spear of pain tore through her. A red stain bloomed on the napkin covering her chest.
Vivienne grabbed her by the chin, then forced Mireille’s spoon back into the stew. “Finish it.”
The cloaked figure had ceased his banging. Was peering through the window, his gloved hands pressed against the glass. She still couldn’t see his face beyond the shadows of his hood. But she could feel his eyes upon her. Could feel his love and anguish radiating toward her.
Vivienne forced the spoon into Mireille’s mouth, closing a palm over her lips and forcing her to swallow.
She didn’t even taste the chunky lumps as they burned down her throat. Another gush of liquid poured from her chest.
She choked against her mother’s hand, and Vivienne pushed the bowl away, the liquid spilling across the table and onto the floor.
Vivienne swept Mireille into a crushing embrace. “You did it. Mother always protects you.”
Mireille tried to conjure up any feeling at all for these words, but there was a hollowness in her chest. As if something was missing.
Something vital.
Mireille’s face went slack against her mother’s shoulder.
Vivienne stroked her hair, cooing soothing words. “You’ll be safe now. You never need to worry about him or anyone else discovering your secrets. Ruthless efficiency, my pup.”
Vivienne settled Mireille onto her feet and removed the cloth napkin to reveal a large, gaping wound in Mireille’s chest.
Right where her heart should have been.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Coming out of the vision was a far more violent experience than falling into it.
Mireille’s eyes popped open as her body convulsed, her skull smashing against the solid glass and rattling her bones.
