Chapter Thirteen

 

The space between her inner thighs throbbed. She’d only slept with a handful of guys, but this had been something different. Indescribable sensations had her reeling. Her skin actually shimmered with a faint white dust. She frowned. Duncan’s had the same glittering sheen.

Her senses seemed keener, especially smell. The guard had eaten garlic and something that didn’t agree with him with his disgusting farting.

“Do you smell that?”

Duncan glanced over his shoulder. “Smell what?”

“The guard burping and farting.”

“’Tis yer dragon mate gift. Ye can smell evil. It will help us find Satan’s Scriptures.”

“I’m not sure that’s a gift.” Smelling farts and burps and nasty things wouldn’t be what she’d be asking for under the Christmas tree.

She sat on the bed and watched Duncan hunt for clothes in the armoire. He pulled out a pair of braies and put on a black tunic. He had said that she was his dragon mate. He had to be under some kind of spell. He was still in love with a dead woman. She sighed. Maybe dragon mates didn’t have to love each other—that would suck.

She couldn’t stay with a man, no matter how yummy, if he only loved her body and not her. She’d always be second best. No matter how selfish it was, she wanted to be number one. Not any guy’s number one. Duncan’s number one.

He’d been there when she came through the portal and held her. He’d protected her from an archangel, a demon, and his brother. Even beaten and hurt, he’d found a way to rescue her. Not many guys like that back home—unless she counted the super hero movies. He was her hero, and as much as she wanted to deny it, she cared for him—really cared for him.

He peered out the window. “Henry posted a guard outside his bedroom. I suspect the chapter is hidden in there.”

She wished she could be satisfied with just having great sex. But that wasn’t like her. Her parents had been high school sweethearts and had loved each other until they died. She wouldn’t settle for anything less.

He walked over to the door and stretched out his hand. “Are ye prepared to do battle?”

“Not really.” She slipped her hand in his. Tingles ran up her arm. They were invisible again.

He pulled her close and kissed her briefly on the lips. “Stay close.”

She nodded, not sure what she could do against a demon.

He opened the door. Everything happened so fast Holly couldn’t even think.

The sleeping guard jerked awake. “What the hell?” He went to draw his sword, but his wrist broke as if by magic, and the sword clamored to the floor.

“Hen—”

His loud voice was cut off as his head spun to an odd angle, his eyes widened in stunned surprise, and his voice silenced forever.

He slumped at Holly’s feet, and his lifeless eyes stared up at her. His discarded sword disappeared. She put her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. She’d never seen anyone die before. Her heart pounded so savagely she’d thought it might rupture. Duncan was used to battles where men died horrible deaths or lost arms, legs, or even eyes. Holly battled with her fear to not run out of the castle. Yet it wasn’t just her and Duncan’s lives at stake. The archangel had said future souls were at risk. She had to do this. She had to have faith in herself and Duncan.

Duncan clasped her shaking hand and led her to Henry’s bedroom.

“Duncan, where’s the guard? Henry ordered a guard.”

“I donna know. It could be a trap.”

The door slowly opened by itself. She prayed it was Duncan and not Alastair or Balthazar. She was so scared that if someone jumped out and said ‘boo,’ she’d have heart attack.

“There’s no one here,” Duncan said.

“What about Alastair?”

“If he was here, I’d see him. We are invisible to humans—not dragons.”

“Great,” she mumbled.

“Ye’ll be safe, Holly. I promise.” His protective tone should have made her feel safe.

It didn’t. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she wouldn’t survive. She wasn’t a dragon or an angel. What chance did she have?

She took his hand. She didn’t ask where they were going, and he didn’t tell her. He led her down the hall, past paintings, tapestries, and other hallways, including the one that led to the dungeon. The air changed from clean to musty to foul. He opened a door to a dark stairwell. She gagged at the stench. It was as if they had entered a meat packing plant.

He led her into the stairwell. Cobwebs hung in the corners. Flickering torches cast shadows on the wall. He squeezed her hand. She pressed her body next to his. She wished she could see him. Even if she was invisible, she felt exposed. If dragons could see her, then she was sure that the demon could as well. The only one who could be taken by surprise would be Henry, and he was the weakest.

Their footsteps thumped on the stairs. She’d had to clutch the dress to move up the steps. She tripped and stuck out her hand to break her fall. In one swift motion, Duncan lifted her and set her on her feet.

Heat flared over her cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Hush.”

Holly quickly obeyed. The stench was stronger, and her stomach tightened. They reached the door. There was nothing else to do but open it. Once again, the door creaked open.

Holly’s faith flew down the stairs. Alastair and Henry both were wearing black robes and stood next to a marble altar that had a pentagram and other strangle symbols carved on its sides. There were five skulls and two burning candles on top of a black cloth. 

A wooden box with a gray flower etched on it lay in the middle of the altar. It was like the one in the Wrexham museum, but with a different colored flower. She didn’t know how she knew, but the rank odor originated there. Was the chapter inside that slender box?

Alastair opened his arms wide. “Good evening, Duncan and Holly.”

Henry frowned. “Where are they? I don’t see them.”

Alastair gestured with his finger. “They just came through the door. Ye might as well show yerself, brother. Ye canna hide from me.”

Duncan materialized next to her.

Henry narrowed his eyes and pointed to the cuts on his cheeks. “Ah, the bitch who will pay dearly for my face.”

Holly refused to let him know how terrified she was. “Did you actually think I wanted you to kiss me?”

“’Tis better than kissing a dragon.”

Both Alastair and Duncan glared and growled. At Henry, at least.

Henry’s face turned red, and he edged away from Alastair. “Kill your brother, fool.”

Alastair drew a sword, and Duncan followed. Brother against brother. They circled each other, assessing for weaknesses. Duncan had said she’d healed him. What if he was wrong? Alastair swaggered and had a smirk on his face. He knew something—something that could get Duncan killed.

Henry leaned against the wall with his arms folded against his chest. He almost looked bored, as if he knew Duncan would soon be dead.

Alastair attacked first, lunging and thrusting. Steel clashed again and again as Duncan blocked and parried, but he was losing ground, being forced against the opposite wall. He flipped his wrist which crossed their blades, and locked the points downward, a peril to nothing but the crusty floor at their feet.

“We donna have to do this, Alastair.” Duncan’s voice was edgy and his stance rigid.

Holly knew he didn’t want to kill his brother. The guilt would be worse than it had been with Marigold.

“Aye, we do.” He glanced over at Holly. “Ye’ll soon be with the superior dragon.”

Holly’s skin crawled at the mere thought of him touching her.

Duncan released a low growl, and his eyes turned gold.

Alastair twisted his wrist, breaking the lock, and when Duncan raised his sword to block it, he struck to the right, tearing through Duncan’s tunic, drawing blood. Duncan wouldn’t be denied and countered, thrusting hard and fast, forcing Alastair to scramble over the altar, knocking a skull and a flickering candle onto the floor. Teeth flew out of the skull, and the wick on the candle died.

Henry unleashed his sword and approached Duncan. He twirled his sword in little circles. “You’ll pay for desecrating my altar.”

His deadly tone pressed Holly into making a foolish decision. She wasn’t going to watch Alastair slice the flesh off Duncan piece by piece. She pressed her back against the wall and made her way toward the altar, never taking her eyes off the fighting men.

The air grew colder, and the remaining candle flickered brighter, the flame rising higher. The demon was coming, and he was bringing the black flower.

Duncan was backed into a corner with the two men lashing and thrusting. He had a slash across his chest and a deep cut on his thigh. He was doing it again—sacrificing himself for her. Her heart swelled at his desperation, and grim determination shot up her spine. There was only one way to end this misery.

Henry raised his sword and slashed Duncan’s face. Blood gushed from his cheek. Alastair lunged. Duncan circled to the right, the blade narrowly missing his heart by inches.

Fear broke her heart. “No!”

Alastair turned and laughed as if killing his brother was a joke. She darted away from the wall and rushed toward the altar.

Alastair lunged toward the altar, holding his sword. “Stay away from there!”

Henry raced after Alastair. Duncan overtook him and smashed him with the pommel of his sword. Henry’s head swung around. A bloody gash trickled down his temple. He collapsed to the floor with a loud thud.

Holly seized the box off the table.

Alastair blocked her path, pointing his sword at her chest. “Give me back the box.” He looked at the box, then her.

She shook her head and clutched it to her chest. “No.”

Duncan crashed into him, knocking him to the floor. “Holly, destroy Satan’s Scriptures.”

She tore off the top of the box and stared at a bunch of blank parchment. This was what they were fighting for. Was it a trick?

Alastair got off the floor, his sword raised high over his head. Duncan darted in front of his path. Alastair knocked the sword out of Duncan’s hand and whirled him around. He wrapped his arm around his throat and stuck the end of sword in his Adam’s apple.

“Destroy it, and he dies.”

Duncan gripped Alastair’s arm and tried to push it away. “Donna listen to him, Holly.”

Alastair pressed the sword deeper. “I suggest ye shut your mouth, brother.”

She wasn’t looking at Alastair. She was looking at Duncan. “I’ll not destroy it, if you release him.”

“Nay, ye canna do this,” Duncan said as he dug his elbow into Alastair’s side.

Alastair loosened his grip, and Duncan knocked the sword away from his neck.

The flame flashed higher. Black smoke swirled in a corner. Balthazar was here.

Holly fumbled with the box and seized the parchment. Unbearable burning pain gripped her hands and rolled up her arms. She fell to her knees, screaming.

“You fool, she has the parchment.” Through her agony, she recognized the husky voice—Balthazar.

Alastair flew across the room and crashed into the wall.

Strong arms wrapped around her. “Holly, let go!”

Duncan reached for the flaming papers. Holly shook her head, sweat leaking into her eyes. “You can’t touch it!”

She clasped the paper, and as if by magic, the parchment curled and blackened, then swirled into the air like ash, disappearing. The foul stench faded, and the darkness lightened.

Duncan rested his head on her shoulder. “Holly, my sweet Holly. Ye did it.”

Holly looked at her palms, expecting them to be badly burned. Only the white flower glowed brighter, otherwise, her hands were unharmed.

Balthazar walked over to them dressed as a half-naked rock star. There was no mercy in his eyes. He dropped a black flower in front of her. “Now, you’ll both die.”

Duncan shoved her behind him. “I’ll na let you harm her.”

“It wasn’t by my hand that she was destined to die.”

A strong hand seized Holly and whipped her around. She faced Alastair.

“I was the one you should have been afraid of.” He had a bloody nose and a cut lip. His left arm lay limp at his side. Blood drained from her face as his green eyes turned black. He exhaled, and black smoke flew up Holly’s nose and into her mouth, choking and gagging her. She couldn’t breathe or even cough. Her heart slowed. Her legs crumpled underneath her, and she collapsed onto the floor.

Duncan cradled her in his arms. “Alastair, what have you done?”

“I’m sorry,” Balthazar said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “He used the death breath. She was a beautiful woman, but I can’t let even one Keeper survive.”

Holly looked into Duncan’s eyes and saw tears. She raised a shaking hand and touched his wet cheek. “You’re crying.”

“Ye canna die. I need ye.” He rocked her back and forth and kissed her forehead. “Please donna leave me.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes. She’d waited for him to say this, but it took her being wounded for him to admit it. Life wasn’t fair.

“Ye shouldna have gotten in my way, brother. Balthazar, donna ye want his soul?”

Balthazar shook his head. “Once the Keeper destroyed the parchment their souls were united and I’m unable to seize his. Farewell, Duncan—for now.” He changed into black smoke and disappeared.

“How typical. My brother the sap needed to be saved by a woman to best me.” Alastair sheathed his sword and shuffled out the door.

“Ye bastard!” Agony reeked in Duncan’s voice.

Holly looked into his eyes and saw pain, fear, and loss. Not just for her but his brother’s betrayal. She panted. “Duncan, this...isn’t your fault. Promise me...you’ll love again.”

“Nay, ye’re na going to die. Ye’re going to live.”

Holly wanted to believe him. Pain pierced her heart. She tensed and gripped his hand until the agony subsided. Weakness seeped into her bones and muscles. Her breath slowed. “Promise me?”

He held her close. “What? How could you ask me this?”

“Because I love you.” She could feel his rapidly beating heart while hers lagged behind. Sleep crept over her, and she closed her eyes. “Love is self-less. I set you free.”

The last thing she remembered was Duncan’s tears on her cheeks.