Twelve
“Oh, look who’s calling,” Angelica says. “We wondered if we might be hearing from you soon. Allow me to express my deepest condolences for your loss. Or hasn’t that happened yet?”
She knows. She knows exactly what the witches did to Victoria. “I will tear you apart,” I say between gritted teeth.
“Ah, so it has happened. And I believe you tried the tearing apart thing once already,” she adds with amusement, “and gave up to run after my son instead. How did that work out for you?”
I hate her so much I can taste it. “Did I mention what a despicable waste of magic and breath you are?”
“I believe you might have.”
“Whose life do you plan to trade next? You used your own son to get yourself out of prison, so who will it be for Amon? Who are you going to exchange for him?”
“Amon can
