Bridget narrowed her eyes. “You let herwhat?”
Archer ignored her question. To tighten the ropes around Alexia’s wrists, he pulled up the sleeves of her dark green robe. He froze. “She’s from Andarre. Did you know that?”
Eyes wide, Bridget leaned down and inspected the now visible tattoos. Each one shimmered purple against Alexia’s skin in the fluorescent lighting. In all her time with her in Vassuryn, she’d never seen the markings. “How isthat possible?”
“If you weren’t so busy trying to escape every day in Vassuryn, you might have noticed,” Alexia mumbled, finally lifting her head. She studied the tiny apartment before she fidgeted in the chair. “Why am I tied up?”
Archer let out a laugh. “I would think that’s pretty obvious.”
“Why are you here?” Bridget asked through gritted teeth. Alexia had only been around an hour and her attitude was already grating her nerves. Did she really think she would greet her with open arms? Or trust?
“I’m not answering any of your questions until you untie me,” Alexia said. When they continued to stare at her, she relaxed and added, “I’ve spent the last few months in a dirty, damp cell in Astraeus. Not once did I spill any secrets to the king or tell anyone about Andarre or Cora until I made a deal with your boyfriend. Why don’t you ask him how patient I can be? Oh wait, you can’t. If you want to know how he’s doing, I suggest you free me. I can tell what he yelled as I went through the gate.”
Bridget stilled. Rage exploded through her veins as the world narrowed to a single, blinding point of heat behind her ribs. Alexia was offering Cade like bait, counting on her to bite.
Grabbing her arm, Archer said, “Bridget, I know she just mentioned your trigger word but…”
Recoiling away from him, she swallowed back the bile in her throat. She knew not to fall for Alexia’s tricks and could see now how many times the other girl had manipulated her in Vassuryn. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting, even when she dangled information about Cade in front of her.
Too focused on calming the fire in her veins, Bridget didn’t notice Nylah grab a knife from the kitchen drawer. Before she could stop her, Nylah cut Alexia’s binds.
“We want answers,” her sister said, pointing the knife at Alexia’s face. “Now talk.”
Archer threw his hands up in the air and muttered, “You’ve created a monster.”
Bridget wasn’t sure whether to be angry or impressed. Either way, she grabbed Nylah by the shoulder and pulled her backward.
“At least there’s someone here with some sense,” Alexia said, rubbing her wrist, and then her jaw. Her heated stare met Bridget’s. For a long moment, tense silence filled the room.
“You heard her,” Bridget chided. “Tell us what you’re doing here and how you found us.”
“That coven mark on your hand is more than it appears. With the right spell, it can be used to find you. Luckily, I was able to find some Witches in Salem to help me. That little town was Cora’s backup plan if she ever had to track you down in the human realm.”
“That was you following me yesterday… I should’ve known, but I still don’t understand. You shouldn’t remember or know who I am.”
Alexia paused. “The curse is broken.”
Every ounce of air whooshed out of Bridget’s lungs. It wasn’t possible. She looked at Archer, expecting him to say a contradictory remark. After all, he’d been the one to explain curses to her. But he stared at Alexia, mute, pale, and shaken.
“That’s not possible,” Bridget whispered.
It had beenCade, not her, Quinn had tried to kill. It was Cade’s blood, royal blood, needed to break the curse on Sanguis. Or at least that’s what her and Archer had surmised after months of speculation.
“It is. You owe Cora for giving you back the final piece,” Alexia said, nodding at the ring on Bridget’s finger.
“But I’m not…”
How many times had she read that the curse could only be broken by the blood of the girl Vega had killed? How many times had Cade told her the same thing? She glanced down at her cracked ring and remembered the fuzzy vision of a crevice in the stone before the ambulance doors closed… Bridget’s stomach swirled.
“No, you’re not,” Alexia agreed. “But you must be related to her, like your prince to the person originally used for the curse for the Sanguis. A direct descendant. I’m certain.”
“You can’t be certain. It’s a centuries old curse,” Archer said, “and Bridget isn’t from that world. I don’t see how…”
“Except she is... She’s from Andarre,” Alexia stated, turning her fiery gaze back to Bridget. “Like I said, I’m here to take you back.”
Feeling all eyes on her, Bridget laughed. It exploded in an uncomfortable rhythm from her chest. Alexia was wrong.Sowrong. There was no possible way she was from Andarre. She remembered her childhood, remembered bouncing between multiple foster homes in elementary school and her first night in a group home in second grade. And she remembered her mother dying. The ring on her finger was proof of that. It washers. Not some centuries old anchor to a curse.
“You’re out of your mind,” Bridget sneered. “I didn’t break the curse. The reason I remember is because Cade already paid the price for me. The rune in your skin must have protected you somehow.”
