*
“No!” Cass’ gaze strayed to a dark corner to their left. “Nic?” Her voice emerged as a bare whisper, but still echoed in the room. Something dark and horrible lay in that direction. Something she didn’t want to see, but knew she had to.
“What’s wrong?”
“The light. Shine it over there.” She pointed to an area in deep shadow to their left.
Nic did and Cass gasped as she saw the altar from her e-mail nightmares.
A set of stone steps led from where they stood to the altar. A dark, wet trail stained the floor leading from the altar to the pool. “Nic?”
“I’m here to protect you, Cass. It’s just stone. It can’t hurt you.” He took her hand and skirted around the trail. “Come with me. Face your fear.” Dirt showered down on them. He had to get her in control or they could be in real trouble.
The chill and shivers coming from her weren’t due to the cold. He led her over to the altar and touched the black stone. When he did, a jolt hit him, as if he’d stuck his finger in a light socket. Screams echoed in his head—Cass’ screams as a hooded man chained her down on top of the altar. He’d been likewise chained—unable to help her. He lifted his hand from the stone, half afraid that what he saw in his mind existed here and now. His hand came away from the stone dripping red. He’d been around enough blood to know the feel and smell of it. He tried to shake off the feeling that it belonged to Cass.
“Nic? Are you all right?”
“Yes.” He moved a step away from the altar and wiped his hand in the dirt, finishing the cleaning with a tissue. The fear on Cass’ face struck him. She needed to deal with her emotions before they grew too powerful to contain. They stood in a cave, surrounded by earth. He’d rather not contemplate the consequences.
“This is nothing more than rock. Fear the man, not the tool.”
“I don’t fear him so much as hate him, for what he did to us and for what he might do to our world—to both worlds. But all that happened in another lifetime. We’re here now. Does that mean he is also?” Cass stared at the altar, her eyes wide.
“You know he is.”
“So how do we beat him?” she asked.
“We learn from the past. He had us, but screwed up. He didn’t have the keys. He lost then, he’ll lose again.”
“But will we die again?”
“No. We have more knowledge this time. And you have more power. I don’t think our earlier selves had the strength we do now. This time, we have the edge.”
When Cass took a deep breath and let it out, Nic knew she’d dealt with the worst of her fears. But her hand remained clasped in his. They continued their walk around the pool.
“Do you think Aunt Minerva wanted me to leave the key here?”
“No. She wanted you to see this place, but that’s all. I think she wanted you to face the altar and to deal with the emotions it raises.”
“I hate it.”
“That’s fine. How much?”
“A lot—but I’m in control.”
“I wonder what would happen if you shattered it?”
Cass glanced around them. “Much as I would love to, I don’t think I could focus my control enough to shatter just the altar. I’m too angry, too emotional. I’d probably destroy the entire cavern.”
“Not a good thing. Especially with us in it.”
“Nope.”
Nic found a second path opposite where they’d entered. “Then I think we’ve done what we needed. Let’s keep going. Okay?”
“Yeah. But what if we run into whatever left that blood trail?”
“You saw the blood?” Her observation didn’t really surprise him, but her calm acceptance of it did.
“Yes. It’s fresh. But the trail doesn’t go anywhere. It leads from the altar to the pool, then stops.”
“If we meet either the person doing the bleeding, or whoever caused it, we’ll deal. But I have a feeling both are gone—one alive, and one dead.”
Cass nodded. “I agree.” She glanced back at the altar. “Let’s get out of here.”
The path sloped upward and in a few minutes, they reached a narrow wooden door set into the rock wall. Nic listened at the panel.
“I can’t hear anything, but stay back just to be safe.” He pushed at the door, surprised when it moved easily and silently. He shone his light around, revealing a low cellar nearly identical to the one they’d left. A quick look showed him only empty spaces. He inched out, making sure of their security before he moved aside for Cass.
Cass followed close behind. “Oh! I know where we are. This is Aunt Minerva’s place.”
“How can you be sure?”
She grinned and pointed at a table full of broken crockery, some badly mended. “One of my youthful fits of anger. Minerva punished me by making me mend all the china I broke.”
Nic’s scarred eyebrow rose. “Doesn’t look like you finished.”
“With my temper, I kept making the breaks worse, but Minerva made me keep at it for days. That’s when I learned control.”
“Ah, that strength of control I saw earlier today?”
“I never claimed to be perfect. Sometimes it gets away from me.”
“I’ll bet you led her a merry dance over the years.”
“And then some.” Cass mounted the first step in the flight leading out of the cellar.
Nic yanked her to a stop. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Upstairs.”
“I’ll go first.”
“Nic, this is silly. Nobody would attack Aunt Minerva’s. They wouldn’t dare.”
“Like they wouldn’t dare attack the store? Or your apartment? Even when they know what you are to Minerva? Wait here.” He climbed the stairs, pausing at the top to listen. When he heard nothing, he stepped into what appeared to be a kitchen. A nearby streetlight gave him enough light to avoid a center island and stools. He heard nothing in the room, but that didn’t mean anything. Sometimes the worst enemy lay in silence. He grabbed a knife from a block on the counter. It had a nice long, sturdy blade. He spun around when he heard a noise, relaxing when Cass joined him.
“I told you to wait.” He’d never admit it, but her presence—and her nerve—comforted him.
“You need me. I know the house. You don’t.”
He had to admit she had a point. He grinned when she also grabbed a knife. “A knife? Witches don’t have powers to stop would-be muggers?”
“Hey, I told you I never really practiced with what I can do. And when I did, I came here. Minerva has all sorts of wards around this place so I couldn’t hurt anyone or anything, except myself and the china. Not sure I want to try something new when I’m stressing out.”
“Uh, yeah. Good point. Especially when I’m with you. So, where do we go?”
“This way.” Cass led him through a swinging door into a long, narrow hall. To his left, a set of stairs led up to a second story. At the end of the hall, a wide foyer opened on both sides to other rooms. Using his flashlight, Nic made a quick circuit of all the first-floor rooms, then led the way up the steps.
“Watch the third one from the top,” Cass whispered. “It creaks.”
Nic stretched over the step to the next one. A quick search of the second floor and attic revealed no intruders.
“Is it okay if I turn on some lights?” Cass asked.
“I’d rather you didn’t. We know the inside is safe, but there may be someone waiting outside.”
They’d stopped in a bedroom. Though he couldn’t see much in the dark, the sweep of a flashlight showed him a mix of little girl grown to teen, to young woman. Her favorite color showed in the deep green carpeting and lighter accents in earthy tones. He stood by the door refusing to go farther. Cass sat on the edge of the bed and he wanted very much to join her there. He feared if he took one step in, he wouldn’t be able to stop. She’d been his once; she could be again. But not here. Not now. And what of her boyfriend? How would he feel if someone tried to take he
r from him?
Hell, he knew how he’d feel. Exactly how he felt now.
“Nic? Is something wrong?”
“No. Yes.”
“Ah. I understand.” She rose and approached him. Her hand clasped his. “I don’t understand this connection we seem to have. I don’t know where it comes from and now is not the time to explore it. I know we both sense something but once we’re safe, we’ll see what happens. Right now I need to know one thing.”
Nic swallowed hard. The warmth of her skin enveloped him; her soft voice drew him. He briefly wondered how hard a person’s heart had to beat before they had an attack. “What’s that?”
“Is it okay if I take a shower and change clothes?”
His shoulders shook as he bit back laughter. “Can you make do with just a flashlight?”
“Yes.”
“That’s fine then. While you’re cleaning up, I’ll put together a snack. You want anything in particular?”
Cass’ ringing cell phone interrupted them. She glanced at the lit screen. “It’s Aunt Minerva.”
“Put her on speaker.”
“Aunt Minerva? Are you okay?”
“Cassandra! Get out of the house! Now! The others are gone. But you are not safe there. Protector, keep her safe!” The phone cut off on a scream.
* * * *
She’d been in the cavern. His Cassandra and the Protector. If he hadn’t listened to Sheila, Cassandra would be his. Thanks to the old one, he had some power. He could have controlled the Protector and taken Cassandra. Rage overtook him and the shelves and furniture in their room shook. Had the woman been there, she’d have been dead.
Calming himself, William opened a locked box he carried with him and took out his knife, four pieces of rope, a bowl, packets of herbs, and three candles. He tied one end of each of the ropes to the posts on the bed, making a loop in the loose end. Like the other things in the room, he’d had it shipped in special, though he hadn’t anticipated this particular use. But having a bed with four sturdy posts instead of the generic hotel fare worked to his definite advantage. He checked his knots, making sure they could not be pulled loose no matter how hard one yanked.
He glanced at the clock. He had a few minutes before Sheila would return from her shopping spree. He sprawled in the plush chair he’d had brought in for him. The ancient wood felt smooth and cool under his hands, the velvet pads worn, but still soft, cushioning him in a way no modern piece could. His fingers tapped the carved arms as he waited.
By the time she arrived, his anger had cooled, but she still needed a lesson, and he knew the perfect way to impart it.
“Hey, what’s with the stuff?” Sheila dumped several bags in the corner.
William smiled and held up the end of one of the ropes. “I thought we’d try something new.”
She grinned and licked her lips, her eyes lighting, as he knew they would. She was a true wanton.
“Now you’re talking. You or me?”
“You, my dear. Just you.” He could barely contain his glee as she stripped, sashaying in front of him before she climbed onto the bed.
He bound her hands securely as she lay there smiling up at him. She had no idea. He drew a finger down her torso, watching her writhe. He grasped one ankle and tied it, drawing the rope tight enough to mark the skin.
“Darlin’, that’s a little tight.”
William said nothing, merely grabbed her other ankle and slipped the prepared noose over it, hauling it nearly to the edge of the bed, spreading her wide.
“Hey. Come on. I can’t do much if I can’t move.”
“You don’t need to move.” He took his handkerchief from his pocket. Nobody carried handkerchiefs these days. But he did. Pure silk. Embroidered. He tied it around her head, forcing the cloth between her teeth. He really didn’t need the gag. The room had been built to his specifications. No sound would escape. But he preferred to let her know he held all the control. The first twinge of fear appeared in her eyes and he drank it in.
He went to the table where he lit the candles and chanted a spell for power. When he picked up the knife, the woman’s eyes went wide and she struggled against her bonds. His knots held, as he knew they would. Her throat muscles bulged with her muffled screams. He took up the razor-sharp knife and drew it lightly down her torso from breastbone to navel. Droplets of blood followed his hand.
She bucked and arched, fighting to move. But he’d done his part well. She could do no more than arch her back.
“Now, my dear, if you continue to move as you are, the knife may go deeper than I intend and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
She stopped moving. Tears flowed from her eyes as he brought the knife back up to her chest. With three quick slices, William carved a shallow triangle into her chest just over where her heart beat. He fought the temptation to go deeper. To take what he craved. What belonged to him. But he still needed the woman. Needed her alive for the next phase of his plan. He reached for the bowl and pushed it under her left arm near the elbow. Her eyes followed his every move, but he knew she couldn’t see anything at this angle.
He sliced into the soft flesh of her arm. She screamed and her back arched. He held the bowl under the cut, catching the flow, careful not to take too much. After all, he did need her alive. But he took enough to weaken her. To teach her a lesson. He wrapped her arm with another handkerchief. Maybe he’d be magnanimous and marry her off to one of his men—before he killed them both. The more he thought about the idea, the more he liked it. His lieutenant would be the perfect choice. The man deserved a reward for keeping such a close eye on Cassandra.
Taking the bowl to the table, he sprinkled the herbs into the bowl and held it over the flame of one of the candles. The blood boiled and fizzed. When the activity died down, he drank deeply, feeling the power fill him. He turned back to the woman who lay there, not moving, her face pale. He took one of the packets of herbs and sprinkled it over her cuts. Once again, her body writhed as the spots of blood fizzed. As the drugs did their work, he stripped. When he returned to her, vivid red scars marked her torso and arm.
He leaned over her, whispering in her ear, “You are mine. You belong to me. Body and soul. I own you. Do you understand?”
Her blue eyes looked up into his, fear and loathing in their depths. But she nodded. He laughed and bent down to suckle her breasts, biting and nipping them to stiff peaks. With mouth and hands, he made her writhe once again as the baser needs of the body overtook her. Waves of hatred and fear mingled with the passion from her and he drank them all in. Like a starving man at a feast, he took all she had and more. The power flowed through him. None could stop him. Before she reached her peak, when she whimpered with her need, he removed the gag.
“Tell me you want me.”
“You bastard.”
He wagged a finger in her face, then licked it and moved it lower. Her head arched back as her hips rose up to him. “Tell me you want me.” He stroked and rubbed, taking her ever higher.
“All right, damn you. Yes! I want you. Finish it!”
William mounted her, driving into her. Filling her. When he looked down at her, he didn’t see the blonde hair and blue eyes, but the chestnut hair and light brown eyes of his beloved Cassandra. She belonged to him. Now and always.
Chapter 10
“Aunt Minerva!”
Nic grasped Cass’ arm as they heard a noise at the front of the house. “Come on. Back to the tunnel.”
Cass grabbed a pair of low boots from the closet and slipped them on, hopping as she struggled to put them on while running. She also snatched an old jacket. They stopped at the top of the steps, listening. Someone was at the front door, but hadn’t gotten in yet. They rushed down the steps, through the kitchen, and back down to the basement. Nic yanked away the shelves, ready to shove Cass into the tunnel and haul the doorway shut. As he stepped forward, he had to stop short. Instead of the tunnel to the caverns, they faced a solid rock wall.
“Cass?
Isn’t this the right place?”
“Yes.” Cass joined him at the wall as they both ran their hands over the stones, pushing and shoving at the solid mass. They heard a crash from the front of the house. Cass stared at the stones, concentrating on moving them.
Nothing happened. “Nic? I can’t move them! Something is stopping me.”
“Does your aunt have a car?” Nic didn’t want to be trapped in the cellar, but they didn’t have many options.
“Out back.”
Nic grabbed a crowbar from the tool shelf. He flicked off his flashlight, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dark. They heard someone going upstairs and at least one other person in the front rooms.
“Come on.” They crept up the steps to the kitchen. The back door was intact and closed, but there could be other people outside. A long yard the width of the house stretched from the back porch to an alley barely glimpsed at the back. Unlike most level grass yards, this one looked more like a conglomeration of heavily planted areas, small trees, and fountains. A walkway meandered through the greenery. Though he didn’t see anything moving, he couldn’t be certain of the safety of the yard.
“Can we get through other than the walk?” Nic asked. He spun around as someone came into the kitchen.
“Here!” the man yelled out as Nic swung the crowbar. In the dark, he wasn’t sure of his aim, but the thud and grunt of pain let him know he’d connected.
“Go,” he said to Cass.
“This way.”
She seemed to understand what he wanted as she dropped over the side of the porch, crouching behind a shrub at the side. He followed her through a path only she saw. A couple of missteps had him biting back several colorful invectives. They reached a car shed at the back. So far, he hadn’t detected anyone on their trail.
“Keys?” Nic asked.
“I have them. Get in.” Cass crawled into the driver’s seat of an older model Jeep.
“I’ll drive,” Nic said.
“You don’t know the streets. Don’t argue.”
Noises from the backyard and alley propelled Nic into the passenger side. Anger and frustration settled over him like a dark cloud as Cass roared out of the shed.
The Emerald Key Page 10