Aleksander was aKing? Just the thought of anyone speaking to Varro that way filled Evie with terror. That Natalya would even dare was shocking, but not nearly as shocking as Aleksander actually obeying. He let out a dissatisfied growl and then left the office.
“Sins, he infuriates me sometimes. I don’t know how you stand him, Lily.” Natalya scowled at the now-closed door. Lily ignored her.
“Come on. Let’s go back to the couch.” Lily pulled gently at Evie’s arms, leading her along. She followed without resistance. Fear had pulled it all out of her.
“Will you send me back to Varro?” Evie asked as they sat down.
“No matter what happens, you’re not going back there.” Natalya paced the office, the action not fitting her regal visage. She looked enraged. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Varro or Aleksander?” Lily asked with surprising cockiness. Natalya shot her an icy look.
“Aleksander does have a way of making regicide look tempting. He should know better than to come in here when there’s a—” She clenched her jaw. “I hate men.”
Lily pulled a phone from her pocket. She looked at Natalya.
“Can she…?”
Natalya sighed with frustration. It took a moment for Evie to realize the feeling was directed at herself.
“Yes. Of course.”
Lily held the phone towards Evie. “Do you want to call someone?”
Evie stared at it, stunned. She’d fantasized about getting hold of a phone and calling the police on Varro several times. Not that anything would have come of it. Any officers who showed up would’ve been enthralled into leaving again without even investigating the property.
Who else could she call? She knew, obviously. It was something she’d dreamt of doing for months. To hear her voice again.
Lily mistook her silence for disinterest. She pulled the phone back, and it was like she’d punched Evie in the stomach.
“Is there anyone we need to reach out to?” Natalya asked. “To make sure they’re safe?”
Evie shook her head. Before all this, she’d been a newcomer to New Orleans. No family. No friends. No connections that mattered. Who wouldn’t buy the story of a stripper running out on a gig? She’d had only one attachment, and Stefano had severed it.
“They made sure you didn’t, right?” Natalya asked. “Before they took you away?”
Evie looked at the floor, blinking back tears. She remembered Stefano talking to the other dancers at the Love Light. He’d asked if they had children and where they were going for the holidays.
She’d been easy to take because she wouldn’t be missed.
“Darling...” Natalya put her hand on Evie’s, the touch assuring and gentle. “What happened with Varro won’t happen here. As long as this Court stands, you’ll have its protection. You’ll have mine. I promise.”
She promised. Like she’d promised to get Evie away from Varro. Away from his cruelties. And just like before, Evie believed her. Natalya was powerful enough that she could force a vampire like Stefano to the floor and take a bullet in the chest like it was nothing. And Natalya hadn’t hurt her. Only kept her safe.
Natalya took the phone from Lily and put it into Evie’s hand.
“If there’s someone you’d like to call, call them.”
Evie stared at the phone. It was odd to hold it. Once, it had been the most common thing. Now it was a treasure in her hands. Another small kindness, like the bedsheet around her shoulders, and somehow that made all the difference.
Slowly, Evie typed in the only number she had memorized. Her hands were so shaky she had to try twice before she got it right. She held the phone to her ear, hearing a dial tone and then muffled static before the voicemail picked up the call.
“YoureachedAmandaForrester!I’moutdoingcrime,soleaveamessageatthetone.”
There was a beep as the message ended, and the voicemail waited for Evie to speak. Evie redialed the number. The same tinny recording sang out of the phone speakers.
“YoureachedAmandaForrester!I’moutdoingcrime,soleaveamessageatthetone.”
Amanda. Happy, wonderful Amanda, who had loved her despite all the shit Evie had been through. Amanda, who could paint and sing, and who had come to New Orleans wanting to make a career out of both.