“I’ve missed you, doll face!”
She stumbled over the uneven ground, catching herself against the wall and pushing forward.
“Round and round we go!”
That laughter. The torment. The breath-catching fear.
“Where we stop!”
The skirts tangled beneath her feet, wrapping around her ankles. She screamed, pitching forward, grappling for the wall as she fell. She landed hard, splayed on her belly, the wind knocked out of her, leaving her in a limbo of shock.
Long enough for a hand to grab her shoulder in a brutally painful vise and flip her onto her back.
“Oh, I know.”
Another hand wrapped around her throat andsqueezed.
Rich dropped to his knees, straddling her waist, pressing his weight into her throat as she writhed and fought. Sheraked her nails against his hand, skin sloughing away, releasing a pungent aroma that soaked into her mouth.
She couldn’t breathe. Not even a molecule of air could get by his constriction. She kicked a leg, landing a frantic blow to his groin. He didn’t flinch. The room pulsed, graying around the edges. The burn of suffocation intensified with every second.
Rich leaned close, his milky eyes spearing her where she lay.
“You’ll never escape me, doll. Not even indeath.”
36
The tunnels were thick with an unnatural calm, a bated anticipation hovering just out of sight. Thaddeus moved on silent steps, masked by magic, Shaye at his heels. A familiar understanding settled between them, like the days of old when neither needed to speak to comprehend what the other was thinking. ’Twas a language not of the tongue but of parallel energies.
They came around a curve, coming into the tunnel of doors and pathways hidden behind a magical façade. Thaddeus paused, pressing his palm against the jagged rock, releasing magic from his fingertips to unravel the fabric of the illusion. He cast a pointed glance over his shoulder.
Don’t be fooled.
Shaye nodded once, confirming he understood the look. The veil settled back in place once Thaddeus lifted his hand. Shaye came in behind him, following Thaddeus’s actions, splaying his hand and instantly removing the illusion. When he pulled his hand back, the true layout of the cavern remained, no veil.
When he quirked a brow, Shaye touched his chest, over his heart.
I’ve no curse. No restrictions. You do.
They split up, checking each room, clearing branching tunnels. Thaddeus honed in on his brightly glowing bond, seeking direction, begging it would lead him on the right course. This cavern contained too many twists and turns, and paths that led to dead ends.
’Twas as he retraced his steps through this latest tunnel that he was met with three of Grison’s men, brandishing poorly constructed blades, uncertainty in their eyes. Men with no training in battle but loyalty to a coward.
“You can’t use your magic on us,” one proclaimed, his voice resonating with doubt. His sword shook. “Grison awaits you.”
“Wonderful,” Thaddeus hissed, unsheathing his dagger. “I’m eager to speak with him.”
Thaddeus cut through the three Fae with nary a strain, parrying each sword as he lay lethal blows to each man, one by one. Three bodies, bleeding from their hearts before he took up one of the poorly crafted swords and cut off each head. He’d leave a trail of blood and bones in his wake, a taunt to Grison. A warning for all.
No one harms myanam cara.
He rushed back to the main tunnel as Shaye emerged from his own path, blood spattered over his cheek. They hurried down the next two tunnels, finding naught. The rooms between each path lay vacant. No sign of Rori. No signs of life.
The air crackled. The hair along his nape tingled, his skin itched.
He rounded a corner, the tunnel that led to Grison’s private quarters. He gingerly pressed his fingers to the rock,seeking Grison’s essence through the stone. His magic seeped through the crags, spreading down the wall in ghostly gray tendrils that blended into the darkness. Closing his eyes, he poured more magic forward, leaking around the rickety door to his chambers.
Naught.
