As we headed up the hill to the cottage, with the friendly little creek to my left, a sense of unease mantled me. I tried to shrug off the feeling, but it grew with each clop of my horse’s hooves.
“Hey,” I called Marcellious and Emily, who were still engaged in their rabid flirt fest.
“What is it?” Emily called over her shoulder, a lilt to her voice.
The sunlight danced through the bare branches in front of her, giving her a magical fairy tale appearance.
I couldn’t spout more misery to her, so I said, “Oh, never mind. It’s nothing.”
“Silly girl,” Emily said, turning her attention back to Marcellious.
Up ahead lay the cottage. Gooseflesh broke out on my arms as we approached, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong. When I spied the door ajar, I was catapulted into my past.
That was how Papa’s door had looked on the day Tristan captured him. That was the day life as I knew it ended, and I was thrust into the past after witnessing Tristan kill my father.
A gasp left my throat.
Marcellious must have finally sensed something out of sorts as he pulled his head out of LaLa Land. “Hold up there, Em. I’m going to go check on the cabin. Something looks out of place.”
“Not without me, you’re not,” I said.
Thankfully I hadn’t lostallmy nerves. I reined in my horse and slid from its back, then hurried through the debris covering the forest floor to catch up with Marcellious. I pushed past him and threw open the door.
I shrieked.
John James lay in a crumpled heap on the floor with his head on the other side of the room.
“Oh, good God!” I said, pressing my knuckles to my mouth to keep from vomiting. “Not again. Not another person I care about…”
Marcellious drew up behind me, looking over my shoulder.
“Fucking hell. Emily!” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder. “You stay put, there, you hear?”
“What is it?” she called back.
“Nothing you need to see,” Marcellious said before turning his attention back on John James. “What do you think happened?”
“You don’t honestly need to ask, do you?” I said as bitterness drew my stomach into a tight knot. “It’s got to be…”
Emily let out a horrified scream.
Marcellious and I whirled around.
Balthazar held Emily pressed to his torso, a deadly blade poised over her throat.
Marcellious pulled the pistol from his holster and aimed it at the demon’s head.
“I’d think carefully about pulling that trigger if I were you,” Balthazar said. “You know I move faster than you. I could have your head sliced from your neck before the bullet reaches my skull.”
I’d never seen Balthazar look uglier. All the fake charm he usually oozed had been replaced by a rough outline of a demon.
“Stop!” I said. “Don’t hurt Emily. Take me, instead!”
Balthazar let out a mirthless laugh. “You? You’re too weak. What would I want with you? She might be useful for a little fun before I kill her now that her virginity has been lost.”
He waggled his tongue in a lewd gesture.
Marcellious let out a roar but didn’t move in the demon’s direction.
