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.“Your sister may have cursed me, but I’ve a mind of my own and I’m not yours.”He just laughed and, capturing my hand, kissed my knuckles.“A fiery lass warms a man’s heart as well as his bed,” he chuckled.“I’ll never be warming your bed,” I vowed.A fog slipped over the courtyard wall to drift into the courtyard.I fervently hoped it was Lucian’s doing and not Dorian’s.Apparently, it was, because the Scottish vampire turned to Lucian to ask in surprise, “Do you think to ensnare me in a spell? You’re dafter than I thought you to be, lad.”“By ancient right, I will win,” Lucian simply replied, his eyes glittered fiercely in the torchlight.Dorian chuckled.“I should warn you, Lucian,” he bantered in a light tone.“I’ve no plans to be bricked and staked this morn.I’ve only just awakened.”“Oh, you’ll not be staked this time,” Lucian promised in turn.“Have no fear.”Lucian stood just a few yards away from me.He looked impressive in his dark cloak with his black hair loose upon his shoulders.He looked dangerous, powerful, and beyond mysterious with the fog still pouring into the churchyard, wrapping the place in an eerie haze.Just what was his plan?But Dorian didn’t appear nearly as impressed with Lucian as I was.Cocking a brow at the small square church, he allowed his voice to soften in remembrance.“A fitting choice, this church.It was here that Lady Rowle fell under the Terzi curse that destroyed your family.A glorious day, that was.A day that I’ll never forget, to be sure!”But Lucian didn’t appear in the least rattled by this revelation.He just stood there, with his black cloak billowing behind him as our eyes caught and held.It was one of those looks worth a thousand words.I’d just been kissed by Dorian again, and I stood in the circle of his arms.He was powerful, brawny, and a master of seduction, yet, with a single look, my heart had responded to Lucian.“She’ll be your weakness,” Dorian cut in sharply.Lucian’s cool gaze shifted back to the kilted vampire.“I’m not one to be swayed by personal feelings.I’m here to set the past right.Nothing more.”“You lie,” Dorian accused.For once, I agreed with him.Lucian was lying.I’d seen behind his mask, if only for a moment.I meant something to him.There was no doubt.But now was hardly the time for such distractions.There was so much mist crowding into the courtyard that I could no longer see Heath or the others.And then all at once, I realized that I couldn’t smell the Chosen Ones, either.Either they’d gone, somehow, or had the mist masked them? Were we being encased in some kind of protective fog bubble?I guess Dorian realized he’d lost his connection to his clan at the same moment.Or maybe he’d decided the Witching Hour was just a wee bit too near now.Whatever the reason, he shifted me to one side and freed his other massive arm to draw his sword.It happened so fast.A blur.A flash of steel.His sword arced up and then launched straight at Lucian.But the dark-haired warlock was just as quick.With near-vampire speed, he lurched sideways, succeeding in preventing himself from being skewered through, but not quite enough to escape all injury.The sword grazed his shoulder, biting deep before clattering onto the courtyard stones.Wincing in pain, Lucian clenched his jaw and sent Dorian a smoldering gaze.“Ach now,” Dorian began with a grin.But the mirth fled from his face the next instant to be replaced by confusion, and then, a startled look of outright alarm.“Sweet Mary! What—” he began, but he never finished the sentence.Tossing his head back, a primordial cry erupted from Lucian’s throat, a powerful thundering that bounced around in the mist in all directions.I didn’t understand the words.I imagine it was some ancient spell—a curse in a forgotten language.I just closed my eyes, fervently hoping that it would work.We had to be getting close to the Witching Hour.Surely, Lucian would be strong enough.There was a scream.Several.Some coming from the fog.The Chosen Ones? I didn’t know.But by far the loudest scream was Dorian’s, screeching as if he were being ripped apart.And then … he just melted away from me.All at once, he just grew kind of … lighter.The arm wrapped around my waist shortened.Grew harder.Smaller.Startled, I opened my eyes.Dorian was still there, dressed in his tartan with the ancient brooch still clasping it to his shoulder.But he was no longer the towering vampire.He dangled from my waist … as a marionette.Lucian or Lucifer?Subconsciously, on some level, I think I’d known all along that Lord Lucian Rowle had been turning real people into actual puppets.I’d suspected the shelves upon shelves of marionettes had been much more than voodoo dolls.I’d just never really wanted to acknowledge it.But there was no denying it now.Lucian swayed on his feet, grim-faced and pale.The gash on his arm bled profusely.With a gasp, he dropped to one knee.In an instant, Heath was there, morphing from werewolf to man in a single, swift stride.Pulling a yin-yang-embroidered handkerchief out of his pocket—yes, Heath was the kind to carry those around—he applied it as a tourniquet to Lucian’s arm, staunching the flow of blood before the rest of us had even moved [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]