Keeper(88)

I knew that mark, had seen it before in my visions of Josephine.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. No.

Two interlocking triangles that formed a capital M. It was the mark that denoted the Master’s most loyal followers. The mark of the Guard.

“My name is Tyler Marek.” He bowed his head in reverence. “I am one of yours, my lord.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO


I cried out, a strangling sort of sound, and stared at the tattoo on Ty’s chest. “No,” I breathed. Ty? Part of the Guard? I didn’t want to believe it, but the proof was there, inked across his skin. Flashes of heat flushed my skin, and I tore my gaze away as hot tears burned my eyes. He’s been working for the Master all this time.

Pain ripped through the walls of my chest and ricocheted throughout my entire body. Ty betrayed me. Those three little words sliced right through me, and I glanced down expecting to see blood—the physical evidence of my internal agony. I choked down a sob.

“My apologies again, my lord, for the interruption to your party,” Ty said with another bow. He moved toward Maggie. “Allow me to take the human to a more secure location until you are ready to deal with her.” He took a step forward, straightening his shoulders. “I will personally see to it that she is . . . looked after.” He grinned, a wild look in his eye. My stomach rolled, and I was sure I was going to vomit.

The Master seemed to consider this for a moment before rising to his feet. “There’s something about you,” he said to Ty. “You’re far more civilized than most of the men in my Guard. I like that. Civility is all but lost these days.”

A strange look flashed across Ty’s face, but then it was gone behind his congenial smile once more. “My father was a gentleman, my lord. He taught me well.”

The Master nodded, impressed. “I see.”

Ty bowed his head again. “Thank you, my lord.” He bent down and yanked Maggie to her feet. My hands, my blade, and my life. His words echoed in my thoughts, twisting my heart. Every word a lie.

“Where might I secure her, my lord?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” the Master said, settling back into his seat. “After all, what’s a party without a little . . . entertainment?”

“My lord?” Ty stared at him, not understanding.

The Master held up a hand, waving him off, and fixed his stare on Maggie. He cocked his head a little, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Come here, girl.”

Maggie jerked her arm out of Ty’s grasp and walked toward the Master, trying to keep her shoulders back and head held high. She was shaking all over, but it was obvious she was trying not to let her fear show.

“Such a pretty face,” the Master mused, running a finger across her cheek. “Yet the face you wore as a disguise . . . that is the face that interests me the most.” He turned to the crowd, scanning the faces of the guests. “For you see, it belongs to someone I’m dying to know better.”

Oh my God. My stomach turned inside out. He knows who I am. He knows I’m here. All of the planning, the details, everything we’d prepared for tonight was all for naught. Our plan was always going to fail.

I glared at Ty through angry tears. His face was void of all emotion, and he was standing at attention next to the Master. I directed all the malice and hatred I felt burning through me toward him. I hate you. I hate you, Tyler Marek. I will never forgive you for this.

It might have been wishful thinking, but I swore I saw him wince.

“You can come out now, love,” the Master projected, his voice filling every inch of the ballroom. “There’s no point in hiding from me.”

What do I do? My feet were frozen to the floor and my head was spinning. What do I do?

“Oh, come now, there’s no need to be shy.” The Master took a step forward, his arms open. “No? Well, perhaps then you need a little motivation.” He walked back to where Maggie was standing and reached for her hand. “I have no use for the human girl,” he said, his features twisting into a vile grin. “But it is a party. Perhaps some of my men would appreciate a little company.”

Several in the crowd murmured appreciatively as the Master flicked his wrist. One of the Guards moved to Maggie, pushing her toward the crowd.

“Stop!” I yelled, pushing my way through the crowd. “Leave her alone!”

The Master’s face was positively gleeful. “Ah, yes. Come, my dear. I’ve been expecting you.”

The Guard was still towing Maggie toward a group of men who were waiting, their expressions hungry.

Overhead, the lights flickered as a surge of magic rushed through me. “I said, leave her alone.” I was surprised how strong my voice sounded as it carried through the room.

The Master grinned. “See? Was that so hard? I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. You witches and your code of goodness. A pity, really. You miss out on so much fun.” He leaned in and smelled Maggie’s hair. “Lovely. Yes, I can think of quite a few of my guests who would love a little . . . taste of this delectable flower, hmmm?”

My heart was pounding, and every nerve cell in my body was crackling with energy. “Leave her alone.” The lights flickered again with another wave of power.

The Master leaned forward, his grin so wicked that my heart plummeted to my feet. “But what would the fun be in that?”