“No,” he bit out. Despite the increasing pressure on his throat, he raised his hands and fired silvery light toward her.
She laughed, as though he’d missed her by a long shot.
The magical noose tightened again.
He tried to swallow, and his vision blurred.
He sensed her leaving the bed. Lucian fired more bolts, but darkness, akin to a cloth hood, slipped down over his face, leaving him blind.
His rasped breaths taunting him, he turned his head, barely hearing her footfalls an instant before her fingers trailed down his chest. Her touch burned like fire on bare skin.
He lashed out, but heard her dart away, unharmed. Her laugher mocked him.
“Still, you haven’t dropped to your knees.”
She’d moved behind him. The noose around his throat tightened. He struggled to inhale a breath, or even the barest fraction of a breath.
His head swam.
Voices reached him from the living room: another man’s and Crow’s.
Lucian ground his teeth. He had to break free. He had to—
Burning pain seared down his back, and he couldn’t hold back a cry of agony.
“Kneel.”
Damn Agnes.
Damn the gold.
Damn bloody DNA.
Fury hot in his veins, he sank to the floor.
Fight, Lucian! You have to fight!
Watching in anguish as he collapsed to his knees, Molly silently sobbed. His face was a ghastly reddish-purple color. Veins bulged in his neck, and spittle gathered in the corners of his lips. But, he was far from defeated. His eyes blazed with anger.
Fight, Lucian.
How she wished she could break Agnes’s hold on him. Molly could see the magical hood and the noose, a coil of wispy blackness wrapped around his neck, but even as she tried to command her own hands to move, she mentally smacked into a barrier.
How could she help Lucian when she couldn’t even control her own body?
She had to find a way.
Molly’s mind raced. The sorceress had some need for her, otherwise she wouldn’t still be alive. So, what was her purpose? Why was she important?
“Now,” Agnes made her say. “Before I take the necklace and then kill you, I’m going to give you one last choice.”
Sweat trailed down the side of Lucian’s face into his hairline.
Close to his ear, the sorceress said, “If you want Molly, you can have her.”
He made a startled sound.
“Accept she’s part of me. Accept both of us.”
He blinked, wavered on his knees.
“I know you’re tempted,” the sorceress goaded. “I can sense how much you care for her. Want her.”
Lucian’s gaze sharpened.
“Give in to your desires. Forsake The Experts, and take what you want,” the sorceress coaxed.
His lips moved. But no sound emerged, and his eyes began to slide closed, as though he was on the verge of passing out.
His free hand fluttered, indicating the noose was preventing him from answering.
Molly sensed the sorceress’s suspicion, but after a second, she cast aside the hood and loosened the noose, allowing Lucian to heave in a breath.
“Your answer,” she snapped.
Lucian dragged in another breath. “Just so…we’re clear….”
“Aye?”
“If I agree…then in future…when I kiss Molly—”
“You’ll be kissing me as well.”
He swallowed hard. “When Molly and I…pleasure each other—”
Molly’s heart squeezed.
“You’ll be loving me as well.” The sorceress skimmed her fingers along his shoulder.
“Loving.” Lucian’s voice sounded stronger now.
“That’s right.”
“I don’t think so.” Lucian touched the noose. On a bright spark, it vanished.
He pushed Agnes backward, dove, and rolled.
With a shriek, the sorceress regained her balance and fired blasts of flame.
Bang-hiss!
Lucian dove again.
Bang-hiss!
The bed caught on fire.
He shoved the box into his front pocket; shot silver light at Agnes. She countered with more fire.
Bang-hiss!
Scorch marks blackened the carpet and walls. With a whoosh, the drapes at the window erupted in flame.
Fear raced through Molly. The whole house could go up in flames.
As smoke darkened the air, Molly desperately tried to think of a way to hamper Agnes.
Lucian lashed out again.
The sorceress ducked then twitched her fingers. The box holding the necklace flew from his pocket.
Agnes caught it.
She smiled. “Now I can kill you.”
Lucian gritted his teeth. He was running out of options.
Where were Julius and the other Experts? They should have arrived by now.
Over the crackling of flames, he heard Galahad in the living room: “Go!”
Crow and the other man yelled.
“What the—? Ow! Get the cat—”
A flash of light.
Lucian initiated his shield and diverted Agnes’s attack. But, even as he did so, fire burned through the barrier, rendering it useless.
He ended the shield, lunged sideways, and fired a strong bolt of his own. Hit in the ribs, the sorceress staggered. Flames from her fingers streamed through the doorway.
Judging by the smoke in the hallway, the fire was spreading to the rest of the home. Perhaps, if he could keep the sorceress inside, the building would collapse in on her. She’d burn to ash, just as she’d burned long ago. With the necklace in the box, her spirit might not be able to return to the gold.
It’s a chance I must take. Forgive me, Molly.
He fought a pang of remorse and aimed several blasts of light. Two of them hit the sorceress. Lurching, she slammed into the door frame.
One well-directed strike, and he might render her unconscious.
He wiped away sweat running down his face.
I’m sorry, Molly.
He thrust his hand to deliver the blow, but suddenly, couldn’t move. Glancing down, he saw a black magic rope coiling around his legs and up his thighs, binding him.
With punishing force, he was thrown back against the wall. The ropes whipped up to pin his arms to his sides. He gasped, trying to put air back into his lungs, as the rope encircled his neck then stopped.
The sorceress walked to stand in front of him.
He swallowed hard. His eyes burned from the heat and smoke.
“Enjoy your last breaths, Lucian.”
He blinked to clear his vision. He could still hear fighting in the living room; wished he could see Galahad one last time.
And Molly.
His Molly.
His gut twisted. If only he could see her, reach her, through the hold Agnes had upon her.
“You’re crying?” the sorceress taunted.
“No. The smoke’s bothering me.”
She stroked her fingers down his face, the way he’d touched Molly before. The anguish within him deepened.
Her hand trembled slightly. “You cared a lot for Molly, aye?”
He narrowed his eyes, for the bitch was obviously going to maximize his torment.
But, if he could keep her talking, allow the fire to weaken the structure of the house to the point of falling in upon them both….
“Of course I cared,” he ground out.
“Poor Lucian. Did you hope for a future with her?”
“Yes.” His tone became a rasp. “I…would have married her.”
The sorceress’s hand jolted, as though his statement had surprised her.
Her gaze flickered for barely a second before the merciless stare returned. “You’re not the kind of man who wants marriage.”
“She’s not like any other woman I’ve known.”
Again, her hand shook.
How curious that his words affected her so much.
Unless….
He silently pleaded for Molly to hear him. “Molly deserves to be cherished,” he said. “To be loved.”
The sorceress lips curved into a gloating smile. “You loved her, Lucian?”
“Yes, I did.”
He loved her.
Lucian loved her.
Molly wailed. It was too much to bear. He loved her, and she was trapped in her own mind, forever isolated, forever helpless—
No! Not helpless.
She still existed.
She could still think, feel….
Rage and dismay warred inside her. No! No longer would she tolerate this imprisonment—
The sorceress’s hand shook again…as it had several times in the past few moments.
Each time, Molly had resisted.
Each time, her heart had cried out for Lucian.
“I didn’t realize I loved her until now,” he was saying. “But, I did. Still do.”
Oh, Lucian.
Love for him glowed brightly within her…and the walls of her prison moved a fraction outward.
Stop, Molly, Agnes warned.
No. She’d never quit loving Lucian…because she did love him. She loved the mischievous way he smiled…
Stop!
Loved the way he laughed, the way his eyes crinkled….
I warn you, Molly…!
No! No more.
No, no, nooooooo…!
The word became a shrill scream. It filled Molly’s mind, broke from her, the sound full of fury and resentment.
The walls around her shattered on a blinding explosion of light.
Chapter Seventeen
Lucian opened his eyes.
Blistering heat and a crackling roar assaulted his senses.
He blinked several times and realized he was lying on his side, his cheek pressed against carpet. No longer was he restrained by magical bonds.
Remembering the flare of light, he pushed up on his elbows. He was still in Molly’s bedroom. A short distance away, not far from the bed that was engulfed in flames, Molly lay on her back, motionless, her eyes shut. The box containing the necklace lay beside her.
The blinding light had to have been some kind of powerful spell. If Agnes had hoped to kill him, she’d failed.
She might try again, though.
What had just happened could also have been some kind of trick.
Or not.
He muttered a quick incantation to hinder her magic, should she try to attack him. Crawling on his belly to avoid the worst of the smoke, and keeping watch for any clue that she wasn’t really unconscious, he approached Molly.
Her eyelids didn’t flutter. Her features remained slack.
Lucian cautiously touched her arm.
She sucked in a breath, as though waking from sleep. Her brow creased.
“Molly,” he said, wiping his streaming eyes with the heel of his hand.
She moaned softly, but didn’t answer.
His gut instincts told him she wasn’t acting. Those same instincts also didn’t sense the sorceress’s presence.
Worry gripped him, because dark magic didn’t just disappear. Where had it gone? And why was Molly barely responsive?
Judging by the smoke and flames, there wasn’t much time left to get out of the house. He’d been willing to sacrifice himself, but his heart told him to get her and himself out.
Over the noise of the inferno, he caught the wail of sirens. Whether or not help would reach the house in time, though….
Lucian shifted to a crouch and grabbed the box. He went to lift Molly into his arms, but paused at the thought of others seeing her in her lingerie. He crawled over to the closet, pulled a silky bathrobe off a hanger, and pushed her arms into it, then tied it closed.
After lifting her into his arms, he stumbled out into the hallway. With each indrawn breath, his lungs filled with more of the acrid fumes.
Coughing, he hurried into the living room. “Galahad,” he yelled.
Through the smoke, he saw Crow and several other men sprawled on the floor. Galahad, batting the front door handle with his paws, dropped down to the planks.
“Lucian.” The squire wheezed. “You did it! You beat Agnes.”
“I’m not sure—”
“Is Molly okay?” Rose asked.
“What caused the light?” Marigold meowed.
“Questions later. We need to get out of here,” Lucian said.
“Yeah.” The squire yowled. “Can’t…breathe….”
Lucian wrenched open the door and hurried down the porch steps. A small group of spectators, tending to several men lying on the sidewalk, glanced at him.
“Go, Damsels,” Galahad yelled from inside the house.
“Not without you,” Daisy said.
“I’m right…behind you.”
Wailing sirens sounded from close by.
Drenched in sweat, Lucian dragged in breaths of clean air. He took Molly a safe distance from the house and laid her on the grass then coughed until he was almost hoarse. His throat and lungs felt like old parchment.
Fire trucks pulled up, followed by ambulances. Seeing him, paramedics jumped out of the nearest vehicle and rushed to him and Molly.
He pointed to the blaze. “People…inside. Living room,” he croaked.
Firemen raced toward the home. Thankfully, all five cats had made it out safely and were huddled together on the lawn.
Lucian declined medical treatment. “Take care of Molly. Please.”
“Lucian.”
Julius.
Glancing toward the road, Lucian saw the older man, wearing a police officer’s uniform, walking up from the sidewalk.
Damn. He wanted to check on Galahad and keep watch on Molly, because when she revived, Agnes might as well. But, he couldn’t ignore his superior.
Yet, as Lucian dried his face with his scorched shirt and acknowledged what his senses were telling him, he realized a number of Experts were close by. If Agnes stirred, he’d have a small army to help him.
Lucian followed Julius to a far enough distance that their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by gawking neighbors. “You look like hell,” Julius said. “You okay?”
He must look awful, for Julius to express concern. “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s Molly, I’m guessing, being checked over by the paramedics?”
Lucian nodded. “Agnes—”
“We’ll handle her from here.”
Handle her? Coldness gripped Lucian. He’d never see Molly again. “No. You can’t—”
“We must.”
“No.” Lucian’s voice hoarsened. “Something happened inside.”
“I know. The readings were highly unusual.”
“It was a spell, I think. Afterward, I couldn’t sense Agnes anymore.”
Julius shook his head. “Agnes isn’t gone. Molly will still be under her influence.”
“Are you sure—?”
“Dark magic adapts. It doesn’t just vanish.”
“That’s what you taught me, but—”
“Even if by chance Molly’s no longer possessed, she knows you have magic.” The Expert’s piercing stare didn’t waver. “We won’t tolerate that.”
Lucian’s very soul bled. He’d done his best to keep his magical abilities from Molly, and he’d failed—just as he’d failed to keep the ancient magic from growing strong enough to control her. He was a failure all around. Whatever the consequences of his actions were, he’d accept them with honor and courage. But, he wanted to say goodbye to Molly. “At least give me a chance to talk to her,” he said.
“Why? What can that accomplish?”
“Let me talk to her,” Lucian said, more firmly. “It’s not a lot to ask.”
The older man’s lips flattened. “Very well, but I’ll take the necklace.”
Lucian had forgotten he had the box. He handed it to The Expert.
Across the lawn, a cat yowl
ed: a reminder that he’d wanted to check on Galahad.
“If you will excuse me—”
“The others in the house?” Julius asked, before Lucian could walk away.
“Dealers. Galahad and the female cats fought them.”
“Apparently, the men on the sidewalk just collapsed. They’re Dealers too.”
“Collapsed?” Lucian wondered about the full impact of the flash of light, just as he heard an eerie howl. Rose and the other female cats were pacing…by Galahad, motionless on the lawn.
“No,” Lucian choked out.
“Wait—” The Expert’s cell phone rang. When he scowled and answered, Lucian raced across the grass and dropped down beside the squire.
Grief almost smothering him, he stroked his hand down the feline’s back.
The cat’s eyes didn’t open. His chest rose and fell, though, with steady breathing.
Had he suffered internal injuries while fighting Crow? What if he’d inhaled too much smoke?
“Galahad,” Lucian said.
“He was so gallant,” Daisy meowed.
“Was?” Oh, no….
“He was a fine young cat,” Petunia wailed.
“Please.” Lucian ran his hand down Galahad’s back again. “You have to be all right.”
The feline’s eyes opened a crack. His lips barely moved; the tips of his fangs were just visible.
Lucian leaned in closer. The squire could be dying. These could be his last words.
“Go—”
“Yes?” Lucian soothed.
“Away.” As Lucian startled, the squire muttered, “You’re ruining my moment.”
“Your moment?”
“Yeah. Being lauded as a hero.”
The four female cats, meowing plaintively, seemed unaware of the conversation between Lucian and the squire, who’d once again shut his eyes.
Shaking his head, Lucian sat back on his heels. If Galahad was well enough to entertain such foolishness, he must be all right.
His heart ached, because that just left Molly.
Time to go say goodbye.
Molly woke with a gasp. “Lucian!”
The sounds of men shouting to one another, the rumble of engines, and the ashy odor of smoke bombarded her senses. Recognizing the roughness of grass against her skin, she sat up, coughing hard. Her stomach hurt, and her head swam.
“Don’t move too fast,” a male voice said: a paramedic, who’d crouched on the grass beside her.
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