Nessa pulled her feet apart as the ropes burned in two, then slapped out the flames. As she rubbed the tingling, hot skin of her legs, she glanced around the remainder of the room she hadn’t been able to see before.
Adrenaline surged through her veins as the promising spikes of the iron candelabra caught her eye. Her heart rate picked up as she noted the sharpness of the long metal prongs. Her breath came quick, excitement fluttered through her chest; hope tingled like electricity through her body. Testing the sharp tip of one prong with her finger, an escape plan rooted in her mind. When Gabriel decided to return to her room, the iron stand would be the perfect weapon.
Nessa realized the first strike was her only chance. With the madness she’d seen reflected in Gabriel’s eyes, negotiation would be senseless. Years ago, she’d killed a man while defending Trish. If needed, she would kill Gabriel to save her own.
She formed all the burning candles into a blazing pillar on the floor, wincing as she brushed against the raw flesh on her wrists. With a hissing gasp, Nessa cringed as one of the wounds cracked open to bleed. There wasn’t time now. She had to plan her attack. She’d deal with her wounds later.
Nessa picked up the spiked candelabra, hefting the weight of it in her hands and nodded in satisfaction. She was lucky. It stood even with her shoulders. If the stand had been any taller, she’d never be able to balance it when she thrust. Taking a deep breath, a strange calm settled over her. She intended to surprise Gabriel just as soon as he walked through the door. Surprise was a better weapon then the candelabra.
A muffled scrape sounded on the other side of the door, a thudding sound echoing closer with a rhythm of footsteps. It was the sound of hard-heeled boots hitting stone as they approached from down the hall.
Nessa clutched the candelabra to her side like a javelin, bracing her feet as she pressed her back against the wall. She held her breath as the key turned in the lock, the rusty tumblers grumbling in protest at being disturbed.
Pushing the door open, Gabriel left his chest exposed. His left arm held back the heavy door, while his right relaxed at his side.
Now.Sensing her opportunity, Nessa lunged with the shaft, aiming for the underbelly of the beast. Propelling forward, she shoved the spike upward with as much force as she could thrust. She grunted as the rod sank deep into its mark. She planted her feet and held fast.
Gabriel’s mouth fell open. His shocked eyes blinked, and his clutching hands trembled at the shaft of iron shoved up beneath his ribcage. He staggered back against the opened door, gawking at the blood as it poured out over his hands. He gasped for air as his lungs collapsed. He stared at Nessa in disbelief, then slid to the ground, blood bubbling from his lips.
“Ye stupid bitch,” he gurgled through dying lips. His eyes glazed over into an eerie stare as Nessa watched him shudder and then relax, deathly still.
She hugged herself to stop her shaking and stared down at his paling form. She almost felt sorry for him lying there, now helpless in a pool of his own blood. It seemed suddenly ironic. Just a few weeks ago, she’d been horrified by the nightmare of his beheading. Now he’d died by her own hands, and she felt nothing as she wiped the blood off her arms where he’d spit on her with his dying breath.
Nessa stepped over his outstretched legs, never taking her eyes from him as she eased toward the opened door. Did something just move? Surely, it was just a death twitch. Holding her breath, she peered closer, a peculiar chill gripping her body.
Inky fog circled and rose out of the center of Gabriel’s chest. Hypnotized by the strange, curling black mist, Nessa wondered if his wicked soul sought to escape to the other side. But as she stood frozen in horrified fascination, the mist rose and grew until it formed a column just a little taller than Nessa.
Swirling and roiling, the heavy mist swelled and receded until it sculpted itself into the voluptuous shape of a curvaceous woman.
“Surely ye didna think I would ever allow Latharn to find happiness when he refused to give contentment to me?” Bloodred lips curved into a malicious smile, the mysterious woman smoothed her ebony hair away from her face. “I was positive once the fool’s mother took her life, the madness would have him begging me to save his soul. Had he done that, I would have brought ye back through time to release him from the bauble. I might have even let ye live in the past with some sheep herder or some other smelly Highlander of your own.” With a wicked laugh, the seductress added, “Contrary to what ye might have heard, there have been times when Deardha has been merciful.”
Smoothing her hands down her waspish waist, she drummed her ivory fingertips atop her generous hips. Her pouting lips pulled into a venomous sneer as Deardha eyed Nessa up and down. “The man must be insane to think himself in love with a little chit such as you. Do ye think perhaps he’s gone blind from his isolation? Perhaps I left him to the crystal too long. Some of my other pets lost their sight while in captivity.” She stopped as if pondering a great mystery. “Some of them even withered and died.”
Nessa returned the witch’s glare, her body shaking with rage. So, she was the one. This bitch was the source of Latharn’s pain. Nessa clenched her fists at her sides. She wasn’t giving Latharn up without a fight. She didn’t care what kind of powers this so-called sorceress possessed. She’d had enough of this twisted fairy tale. She was tired, cold, sore, and hungry and she wasn’t taking any more of this crap. “I think his eyesight is absolutely perfect. After all, he saw you for what you really are.”
Her heart pounded as her nails dug into her palms. Nessa felt no fear, just pure, unadulterated fury pounding through her veins. She knew there was no way this woman was going to kill her. After all, Deardha needed bait for her trap.
Deardha moved closer. Her form grew and shifted until she towered over Nessa’s tiny frame. “Ye would be well advised to fear me, little girl. I can send ye to a plane of existence so terrible, your worst nightmares would be a welcomed escape.”
Nessa remembered what Aveline had told her about Latharn’s protection and decided to put it to the test. If she was going to strike, the time was now while the element of surprise was on her side.
Nessa whirled with her favorite kickboxing move and her foot connected with Deardha’s jaw. Caught off guard by the force of the impact to her face, Deardha fell hard against the stone wall. As Deardha rubbed her already purpling chin, she rebounded up from the floor. Her eyes glowed with the fury of an enraged beast focusing on its prey. A blue-white fireball appeared, swirling in her trembling hand. Her eyes narrowed as she took aim. The sorceress screeched with the wail of a banshee as she lobbed the fireball at Nessa’s head.
Nessa dropped to the floor, dodging the explosive missile. She rose and shifted her center of balance from foot to foot. Nessa moved in and landed another blow. She might not have magic, but by the frustration on Deardha’s face, her courage was a force thebana-buidhseachhadn’t expected.
Another fireball whizzed by her head, so close the room filled with the acrid scent of Nessa’s scorched hair. Nessa grabbed the flaming candles and lobbed them at Deardha’s head. Hot tallow splattered across the crone’s ivory skin. Nessa didn’t know how long they were going to keep up this dance. All she knew was she wasn’t going to be the one to go cowering into the corner.
“I’m going to kill ye and go after Latharn m’self. I’ve had enough of this insolence.” Deardha rushed at Nessa, her claw-like hands outstretched, features reverting to those of an eon-shriveled creature. As she tried settling her talons into Nessa’s neck, a powerful energy field lifted her off the ground and crashed her against the wall.
As her beady eyes widened in disbelief, the crone’s snaggled teeth lengthened into snarling fangs. The witch’s face transformed into a hideous beast of rage, her form more repulsive as her fury grew. “This canna be possible. He canna have grown so strong. He was never a master of the Ways.”
Breathing hard, heart hammering in her chest, Nessa edged her way to the door. She taunted Deardha with her words. “Don’t ever underestimate Latharn’s power. You gave him six hundred years to perfect it. Remember?”
The crone’s scowl deepened as she rushed the door, her black robes lifting her into the air. Once out in the hall, she passed her hands across the threshold. A pulsating energy field sealed off the portal trapping Nessa inside.
Her voice deteriorated to the croak of a raven as the she-devil sneered at Nessa from the other side. “Ye shall be the bait for my trap, bitch! I will have Latharn. He will come.”
Deardha’s dark eyes glistened and her head tilted to the side as she clutched her gnarled hands in front of her. “When I’ve tired of toying with him and cast him into the abyss, then I’ll return to enjoy tormenting you. Ye will find that once your precious Latharn is dead, his protection of ye will be no more.”
