Free Anathema (Causal Enchantment, #1) by K.A. Tucker Page B

slits and gaps of my dress in
place. Viggo and Sofie took a seat on either side of me,
sandwiching me in the middle. In seconds we were pulling into the
exit tunnel, passing Max and the other dogs sitting on their
haunches, guarding their fortress.

    “ Seriously?” I exclaimed in a rare
burst of childlike gaiety as the Rolls pulled up to the curb in
front of the theater.
    Viggo laughed as he slipped out of the car in
one fluid motion, then offered me his hand. Even Sofie’s smile
looked giddy in response to my reaction.
    “ Romeo and Juliet
was my
mother’s favorite story,” I said, gazing up at the marquee. In
truth, it had been a staple in my bedtime routine, growing up. My
mother, the hopeless romantic, referred to it as a fairy tale. It
wasn’t until years later that I learned fairy tales didn’t usually
end with the main characters dying.
    “ Then you’re in for a treat,” Viggo
said as we walked toward heavy, ornately carved bronze
doors.
    “ You look like a hunchback. Stop
skulking and stand up straight,” Sofie murmured, looping her arm in
mine.
    Viggo immediately grabbed the other one,
pulling me closer to him. Sofie tightened her grip. I was beginning
to feel like the rope in a tug–of–war as we made our way into the
lavishly decorated theater.
    The lobby was vacant.
    “ We’re late!” I cried.
    “ Impossible.” Viggo smiled, winking
mysteriously.
    A lanky usher dressed in an intricately beaded
suit appeared to personally guide us to our seats, a box near the
stage.
    “ So this is what a theater looks
like,” I murmured, taking in the splendid green, blue, and gold
decor. Five levels of box seats adorned with fleur–des–lis and
gold–plated cherubs wrapped three walls of the theater, overlooking
a deep orchestra pit and floor seating before a curtained stage. I
looked up to see a giant mural painted in vibrant hues on the
ceiling.
    “ If you ever have the chance, visit
the Theatre of the Estates in Prague. This place was designed with
it in mind,” Viggo said.
    If I ever get to visit Europe,
I
thought wistfully, but I kept quiet. I’d likely be on the jet there
tomorrow if I sounded at all deprived.
    The lights dimmed as soon as we sat down,
indicating that the show was about to begin. It was as if they had
waited for our arrival. The audience hushed as the conductor stood,
baton raised. He was so close—close enough that I could poke him
with a stick if I wanted to!
    Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. This was
my first
real
play in a
real
theater with
real
actors. I fanned through the pages of the program,
curious who the actors were, expecting not to recognize any names.
And I didn’t, except for one. It jumped out immediately—the
producer.
    Viggo. No last name. Just Viggo.
    “ Is this … you?” I asked, pointing
out the name.
    He chuckled. “I like to dabble in the arts.
This theme holds a special place in my … heart.”
    “ What exactly does ‘producer’
mean?”
    “ It means he told somebody what he
wanted and threw obscene amounts of money at them to do it,” Sofie
replied cynically. “He’s good at that.”
    Viggo chuckled but I thought I sensed contempt.
“I built this theater and I wrote the play.”
    My eyes widened in amazement.
He’s a lawyer
and a playwright!
    The curtain parted, and the heart–wrenching
story of Romeo and Juliet, the star–crossed lovers, doomed from the
beginning by their opposing family ties, began as I remembered. The
actors sobbed and moaned dramatically. The orchestra played soft
music with perfectly balanced undertones of melancholy and longing.
It was exactly as I had always pictured the story in my head. Right
up until Juliet, traveling along a wooded trail alone at night for
some unknown reason, was dragged out of her coach and bitten in the
neck by a male attacker.
    “ I don’t remember this part,” I
whispered, my brow furrowing.
    Both Viggo and Sofie burst out laughing,
earning a hush from the woman in the box next to