Anathema (Causal Enchantment, #1) by K.A. Tucker Read Free Book Online

behind me.
    I turned. A man in his early twenties towered
over us, several large chunks of wood in his arms. He had the same
large, beautiful green eyes as Medusa–girl, only a different shade
of green—jade instead of emerald, and more intense. His long
slender nose and pronounced cheekbones were almost femininely
pretty, but those features were well balanced by a masculine square
jaw and unkempt chestnut brown hair, neither too long nor too
short.
    I gawked openly at him, unable to peel my
attention away, until I noticed his jaw clench. I quickly averted
my gaze to my hands.
    Cool, sinister laughter echoed through the cave
then, sending a shiver down my spine. Searching the darkness for
the owner, I saw a woman suddenly materialize out of nothingness,
her seductive, confident gait triggering images of a wild cat
stalking its prey. She stopped beside the young man, tossing her
thick mane of raven black hair over her shoulder before gazing down
at me with a detached air and lemon–yellow eyes, too light to ever
be mistaken for hazel.
    I was staring into those eyes, mesmerized,
wondering if they were authentic or colored contacts, when more
voices spoke.
    “ What’s with the fire?” a male voice
asked, its owner walking through the cave entrance. He stopped
beside the firepit, a surprised look on his face as his
charcoal–gray eyes landed on me. “Who’s this?” Except for his pale
complexion, he fit the stereotype of a surfer with his shaggy,
golden blonde hair, lean, muscular build, and boyish, carefree
grin, which he was proudly displaying for me now.
    Yet another set of piercing eyes landed on me
then—large, catlike, violet eyes—as a woman stepped in beside him.
His girlfriend, by the way he immediately draped his arm around her
shoulder and planted a kiss on her heart–shaped face. She pushed a
strand of long, caramel–brown hair off her brow.
    I suddenly understood what it felt like to be a
gangly, awkward twelve–year–old with braces and frizzy orange hair,
stumbling into a group of inhumanly beautiful
adults
. They
were utterly flawless, free of the usual suspects—the crooked
teeth, the deviated nose, the disproportionately set eyes. Their
faces were perfectly symmetrical and universally desirable, their
hair impeccably groomed, their skin soft–looking; even their
fingernails were manicured. Everything about them was perfect.
Everything except their ratty clothes.
    “ Who is she?” Surfer Guy asked
again.
    “ Dunno. She bumped her head and now
she’s a mute,” the dark–haired one murmured, the corners of her
broad, cherry red mouth curving into a condescending
smirk.
    My drowning victim tried again. “What’s your
name?”
    “ Evangeline,” I finally croaked,
trembling.
    She nodded once. “I’m Amelie. This is Fiona,
Bishop, and over there is my brother, Caden. And that’s
Rachel.”
    I cleared my throat. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Is it really? Stupid response, Evangeline
.
    “ Evangeline,” Amelie said calmly,
“don’t worry. We won’t hurt you. What were you doing out in the
woods?”
    “ I don’t … remember,” I
stammered.
    “ Where did you come from?” the girl
named Fiona asked. Her voice had an appealing huskiness to
it.
    “ Manhattan … ?” Their blank looks
confirmed it meant nothing to them.
How did I wander so far
from Viggo and Mortimer’s place?
    “ What do you remember?” Amelie asked
softly.
    “ Not much. I went to sleep in my bed
and woke up in a forest, beside a statue. I heard those people by
the river and I went to find them. They laughed a bit and then
threw you in, and I hid under a bush … I was sure you were dead,” I
added.
    The guy named Bishop roared with laughter for
some strange reason.
    “ Thank you again for … helping me
out of that predicament,” Amelie said, a strange smile touching her
lips.
    That’s a blasé way to thank someone for
saving your life.
    “ The statue was of a woman reaching
up to the sky?” the beautiful