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I continued on into the ranch house’s long driveway, but the inner weirdness had my hands slipping on the steering wheel, briefly sending the SUV in the wrong direction before I readjusted.

Up ahead, the front door opened. No one stepped out. My heart pounded so damn fast, it felt like one long scream. I flexed my fingers and tried to remain calm. I wasn’t alone. I had help. I could do this.

I had to do this.

I stopped the SUV, but didn’t immediately kill the engine or get out. No one appeared to be moving within the house, and I had no sense of either Belle or Clayton. But his magic was very evident. It cloaked the entire building, layered with every sort of protection and retaliation spell imaginable. I could get in—the exception was so plainly visible it was obvious he wanted me to see it—but I had to wonder if getting out was going to be possible.

I squeezed the pendant lightly to turn on the recorder, then grabbed the backpack and climbed out of the SUV. My legs wobbled briefly, and it was only my grip on the door that kept me upright. The weird, almost out-of-body sensation of sharing brain space with Gabe was disconcerting, to say the least. I swallowed heavily and forced my feet forward, concentrating intently on every step, rather than the magic that flickered angry snakes toward me. His magic was strong, fierce, furious, and it stung my skin as it probed both the backpack and me. My breath caught in my throat, but I clenched my fingers and resisted the urge to react.

“Lose the pack,” Clayton said, his voice coming from somewhere to the left of the door. “And your phone.”

But not the knife. And not the pendant. For whatever reason, he hadn’t sensed the presence of either on my person. I obediently dropped the pack on the top step and then placed my phone beside it.

“Excellent,” he said. “Please proceed inside.”

I took a deep breath and then stepped through the thick cloak of his magic. I might as well have stepped through a wall of white heat. His magic tore at me, a wave of tiny claws that ripped into my skin, seeking to contain, to bind. My magic rose in response, and the charm at my neck burned to life. The wave briefly abated, then surged anew. Panic rose; I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t fight him—

Yes, Gabe cut in calmly, you can.

My hand rose unbidden, and words sprang to my lips. Power shimmered from my fingertips, and a shield flared around me. The tiny claws of magic were torn from my skin, and Clayton’s magic rolled back several inches. It wasn’t much of a gap, but it gave me breathing space. I pushed through his spell and stepped into the house.

Clayton stood in the middle of the large living room, looking very much the utter gentleman in his expensive black suit and shiny shoes. Only his eyes gave the game away—the savage had well and truly risen. “Your magic is stronger than expected—what an absolute delight.”

The last thing I ever wanted was to delight him in any way. “Where’s Belle?”

He motioned to his left. “Here, awaiting your arrival, as promised.”

I scanned the space between us. I couldn’t see any sort of snare—magical or otherwise—but the confident amusement in his expression had every inner alarm going off.

I stepped to the side rather than into the room and finally saw her. There was duct tape over her mouth; her wrists and ankles had been similarly bound to a kitchen chair. There were multiple wounds across her torso and arms, but they didn’t appear to be caused by a blade or fist, but rather magic. She didn’t look as if she’d been sexually assaulted, and that had me blinking back tears of relief. The blood spell had been worth the price I might yet pay…

Though her aura was filled with pain, there was only fury in her gaze—and much of it was aimed at me. I wished I could tell her there was a plan; wished I could tell her it would be all right.

Wished I actually believed that.

What I couldn’t see was any form of magical restraint… until my gaze hit her shoulder. What looked to be the black metal grip of a knife poked out of her shoulder.

What’s that?

A dark restraint spell came Gabe’s grim reply. One that not only contains her telepathy skills but also her magic. Any spell she attempts is turned threefold back onto her. It also appears to be some kind of conduit for his magic.

That doesn’t sound good.

It isn’t. It means his magic is amplified without him having to push much magic strength into it.

Well, fuck. But I guess he’d had thirteen years to plan his revenge, so it was no surprise he was so well prepared.

I forced my gaze back to him. “What have you done to her?”

“Not as much as I might have wished,” he replied evenly. “Your magic is greater than I presumed, which gives me great hope for the viability of our children.”

A shudder I couldn’t control ran through me, but the images that usually came with the thought of him touching me didn’t rise. Perhaps Gabe was busy in the background…

“You’re delusional, Clayton,” I bit back. “You never managed to fuck me when we were married, and you certainly won’t now.”

My reply was met with a short, sharp laugh. Anyone listening would presume my barb hadn’t hit him where it hurt, but they’d be utterly wrong.

Maelle approaches came Katie’s comment. Keep his attention on you.


Tags: Keri Arthur Lizzie Grace Fantasy