Keeper(32)

The Master laughed, the same cruel laughter that had taunted her the night of the fire. “Oh, that can be arranged, little witch. But first . . .” He glanced over at Henry and grinned. “Bring him here.”

Josephine’s heart nearly stopped as the two men holding Henry moved toward her, yanking him between them. They forced him to his knees in front of the Master, who pulled a long dagger from the folds of his coat. With a sinister grin, he placed the blade across Henry’s throat.

The sight of the blade at his throat made Josephine’s knees wobble, but she forced her face to remain neutral,

allowing only the anger to show. Stay calm. You can save him. Just stay calm.

“What about now, little witch? Care to change your mind?”

“Witch?” Henry’s eyes were wide. “Josephine, what’s going on? Who are these men?”

His words pierced her heart. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. The panic and confusion she saw there made her ache. “I was going to tell you. I . . .”

“Jo?” For the first time since she’d know him, Henry was staring at her as if she were a stranger.

She winced at that look on his face, so full of pain and doubt. I have to fix this.

She had only one option. She’d have to use magic.

Staggering to her feet, Josephine pushed her shoulders back and glared at the man in the overcoat. “You’re a fool if you think there’s anything in the world that would convince me to give it to you.” The amulet at her neck pulsated in anticipation.

The Master laughed. “Just hand it over, girl. You have no leverage here.” For emphasis, he dug the point of the knife into Henry’s flesh. It was a shallow wound, but Henry’s grunt of discomfort and the beads of blood that stained his shirt were almost enough to make Josephine lose her nerve. Steady, Jo. Stay steady.

“No amount of running and hiding will save you.” The Master’s wicked grin was back, his eyes fixed on Josephine. “I will hunt you to the ends of the earth, just like I hunted your father. Until there is nothing left but pain and death.” He spit on the ground. “Be a good girl and give me what I want.”

Mustering all of her courage, Josephine held up her hand, palm out. Magic sparked between her fingertips. “Let him go. Now.”

For the tiniest of seconds, Josephine swore she saw a flicker of panic flash in the Master’s eyes, but then it was gone.

He sneered at her and yanked Henry to his feet. “Don’t be stupid, girl. Give me the book.”

“No!” Josephine screamed, a hysterical cry rising in her throat. The magic between her fingertips crackled like lightning. “Let him go. Now.”

The Master’s responding peal of laughter, cold and cruel, boomed across the trees, hitting Josephine like a slap in the face. Then, without pause, he took the dagger and sliced it across Henry’s throat.

“No!”

It was as if time itself had stopped. Every part of her, body and soul, wailed as the light in Henry’s eyes faded, as he sank to his knees, blood gushing from his wound. No, no, no! Her cruel mind began hurling images at her: her first glimpse at Henry’s face, a stolen kiss among the trees, a dance underneath the moonlight, the feel of his fingertips tracing down her spine. I can’t survive this. What was left of her heart splintered into a thousand pieces—a thousand wounds that would never heal.

“Take care of this.” The Master flicked his hand toward Henry’s body, addressing the man who has spoken earlier. “Then bring her to me.”

“My lord?” The man with the tattoo cocked his head at Josephine, who stood unmoving. He had a peculiar look on his face, a vile hunger in his eyes that made the Master grin gleefully.

“You men have served me faithfully today,” the Master replied. “Take your pleasure; then bring her to me. Maybe then she’ll be willing to talk.” He stalked back to his horse, mounted, and urged his steed forward.

Josephine’s shattered spirit flickered a little as she caught sight of his long overcoat whipping in the wind as he rode away and disappeared into the shadows, the echo of his laughter on the breeze.

Everything inside her was broken beyond repair. It was as if she had lost all her ability to move or speak. There was nothing but silence and emptiness. She swayed and almost fell, but a rough hand gripped her by the wrist and yanked her forward.

The face in front of her was plain and covered with grime. The calculating, hungry eyes first roamed over her body, and then the hands followed.

Fight back! the tiny voice inside her head screamed at her, but it was her heart that was in control, or rather the aching hole where it had once been—nothing but silence and emptiness. Please, Jo, fight back! The man’s foul breath was hot on her skin, but she couldn’t move. The tiniest of sparks ignited between her fingertips, but quickly fizzled. Only silence and emptiness.

Over the man’s shoulders, she saw two others walk over to Henry’s body. One of them kicked at Henry’s leg. The other chuckled. As they bent down to pick him up, something inside her snapped. A roar tore from her throat as fiery rage consumed her. She threw out her hands. The magic surged from her fingertips like bolts of lightning, ripping and shredding through the man holding her and the two next to Henry.

The screams of the men mixed with the harsh wails of the horses. The ground rumbled from the stamping hooves as the panicked animals broke the formation and fled. The sky filled with crackling green light and a tangible energy as she screamed, blasting man after man, until not a single person was left standing. It was only then that the scream died on her lips. She lowered her hands.