Chapter Ten

 

Castle Swan’s Dungeon

 

The dragon opened its mouth and shrieked. She cringed at the shrill sound. It took a step forward, and talons clawed the stone, leaving four ugly scratches. She clutched Duncan’s sword with both of her trembling, frozen hands and lifted it over her head like a baseball bat. She had no idea if she had the strength to swing the sword, but she wasn’t going to be slashed into a deck of cards without a fight.

“Alastair, be patient, my friend.” The hulking man slapped the butt of the scourge in the palm of his meaty hand. The tips dripped drops of crimson onto the mud-stained floor. His tunic strained at the slight gesture. The muscles in his broad shoulders and thick biceps bulged. “We haven’t been properly introduced—I am Laird Henry Brodie. And you, my fair maiden, are?”

His voice was charming, but his dark blue eyes stripped Holly of her clothes, and she wanted to take a shower. She pressed her thighs against Duncan. “Stay where you are.”

He flashed her a thin-lipped sneer. “My, what fire you have, my lady. Do you even have the faintest idea on how to wield a sword? You’re liable to behead poor Duncan.”

Alastair shook his head as if to answer the question for her. He was just as pompous as a dragon as he had been as a man.

Duncan hissed, and smoke swished over the man, but his skin hadn’t turned blue nor his clothes frosted.

He shook his finger back and forth. “Tsk, tsk, Duncan, you are being rude. Your dragon powers do not work on me.” He narrowed his eyes. “I thought you’d want to find your long-lost brother. Wouldn’t you like to know what he’s been up to all these centuries?”

The tortured man glanced over his black and blue bruised shoulder. He only wore a torn pair of braies that were bloodied and dirty. He had a cracked lip, and his eye was swollen shut. “Stop...tauntin’ him, Brodie.”

“Silence, Séamus!” Henry whirled around and slashed the man’s back.

Séamus arched his back, screaming. He collapsed, the manacles pulling on his strained arms.

“Quit hurting him!” Holly couldn’t bear to see anyone tortured. No matter what the man had done, he hadn’t deserved this.

Henry raised a devilish eyebrow. “Defending him, are you, gallant lady? You do not even know what Séamus has done. He’s a dragon knight. He might have gobbled up half a dozen innocent maidens like yourself.” His condescending tone curled her toes.

“Duncan, get out...while...ye...can. Satan’s Scriptures...”

“Can use your dragon powers against you,” Henry finished. “Too late.”

He dipped his hand into a leather satchel that was draped over his shoulder. Holly hadn’t even noticed he wore one. 

Henry pulled out some worn curled pages and faced his palm toward Duncan and her. “Mutatio in hominem.” His evil voice was clear and strong.

A funnel whisked out of the pages and twirled toward them. Wind blew dirt and pebbles into Holly’s eyes, blinding her and scratching her skin. Duncan exhaled a stream of ice, but it failed to stop the whining funnel. It suddenly grew wide and rushed around them, spinning faster and faster. Shocks of stinging electricity pulsed over Holly. She arched her back and shook. The sword flew out of her hands. She cried out.

Duncan twisted and turned beneath her, then she slid off his broad back and slammed onto the floor, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She gasped for breath and sucked in dirt. She coughed, her chest rattling. Tears blinded her.

Henry leaned over her. “You’re my prisoner now—Keeper.” He reached down and yanked her to her feet.

“Leave her alone.” Anger shook Duncan’s voice. He was a man again, and he gripped his sword. His brown hair flared over his shoulders, and his green eyes blazed with vengeance. He took a menacing step toward Henry.

Henry pulled out a dagger and pressed the point into Holly’s neck, forcing her to tilt her head back. He wound his fingers into her hair. “Drop the sword, Duncan, or she dies. The choice is yours.”

“Such a sorry place for ye to be, sweet Holly.” Alastair flashed her a grin that would have left most women squirming in their pants.

There was something in his eyes that didn’t match his smile. She preferred Duncan’s. He hadn’t smiled much since she’d met him, but when he did, his eyes were full of laughter, and he chased away the sadness constantly eating at her insides.

Alastair slid a finger down her cheek.

Fury flurried through Holly. “Don’t touch me, you bastard!” How could he look exactly like Duncan, but his barest touch made her skin coil?

He tossed his head back. “I don’t think ye are in a position to do anything, beautiful.”

Duncan edged closer. “Alastair, this isna ye. Together, we can defeat him. Ye’re an honorable knight, remember? Fight this madness.”

Alastair turned away from Holly. “This is where yer wrong, dear brother. Because of yer weakness, I have now joined forces with evil.” He held up his fist. “Forget de Wolfe and join us. We’ll rule this world and beyond. No one can defeat us.”

“Resist, Sheehy,” Séamus gasped. “If ye turn, ye’ll lose yer soul.”

“I suggest you drop your sword,” Henry said, as he pressed the blade deeper into Holly’s flesh. “You’re killing the lass.”

Holly cried out, hating herself for her weakness. “Duncan, don’t give in. Remember what Raphael said.” Wetness slipped down her throat. “Be strong.”

“Ah, but my brother is anythin’ but strong. He couldna even satisfy ye in the forest.” Alastair licked her cheek. “But I would have ye beggin’ me to take ye again and again.”

A flood of anger, humiliation, and shock roiled inside of Holly, tightening her chest and strangling her words. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she’d never hated anyone as much as she hated Alastair.

“You watched, brother? ’Tis dishonorable.”

“I’ve done many dishonorable things, Duncan. And I’ve enjoyed every one of them.”

His chilly voice froze Holly’s heart, but it was the despair in Duncan’s eyes that made her want to slap Alastair’s jeering face. He must have been a great knight at one time. Otherwise, neither Duncan nor de Wolfe would have held him in such regard, but now, he was worse than the most vile Marvel villain.

“You’re all despicable. Kill them, Duncan!” Holly rasped.

Henry tightened his grip in her hair, and he put his mouth to her ear. “You keep talking like that, girl, and I’ll slit your throat here and now.”

Spit flew into her ear, and she shivered. Was she mistaken, or was there fear hidden in his threat?

Turmoil flashed in Duncan’s eyes, and his face was taut. He unwrapped his fingers from the blade, and it clanked to the floor.

“No!” Anguish strangled her cry.

“Seize him!” Henry tilted his head.

Alastair seized a pair of manacles off the wall and locked Duncan’s wrists behind him. “Ye’ll watch yer true mate, die.”

“She is na my mate. Marigold was. Why do ye taunt me like this? Ye were there. Ye saw what happened.”

“Yer guilt has blinded ye, fool. If Marigold had been yer mate, dragon magic would have healed her. Ye were able to turn Holly invisible—not an easy task.”

Henry pulled the blade away from Holly’s neck and forced her to stand against him. He put his fingers underneath her throat.

She could feel him trembling. “You’re afraid of him?”

He increased the tension around her throat, cutting off her air. “You’re mistaken. And since you’re now my prisoner, I suggest you hold that spinster tongue of yours.”

With Duncan bound, there was no one to defend her. In the medieval ages, men had thought nothing of raping woman until they were dead. She swallowed, wishing it was six months ago and her parents were alive and her only worry was how to pay for her Oxford tuition.

“Donna hurt her.” Duncan twisted away from Alastair and ran over to Henry. He knelt, then bowed his head. “If ye must hurt anyone, torture me.”

His voice was so soft Holly wasn’t sure she trusted what she heard.

“Oh, I intend to punish you, Duncan. I can’t have you at full strength.”

Duncan had meant what he said. He’d vowed to de Wolfe and even to little Albert that he would die protecting her. He loved another, but he was sacrificing himself for her. He truly was a mighty hero. She glanced over at Séamus who hung limply between the two pillars, bloodied and beaten. Duncan was willing to submit himself to torture to save her—to save her.

She couldn’t bear to see him hurt. “Please, don’t hurt him.”

Henry caressed her throat with a finger. “Oh, I won’t kill him, lass. At least not yet.”

He looped his arms through Holly’s, and she forced herself not to grimace. He smelled of ash, as if he’d slept too close to the fireplace.

“Alastair, take Séamus down and throw him back into his cell, then tie your brother to the pillars. I will return shortly.”

Alastair stood taller and scowled. “I’m na a lackey.”

His disgusted tone indicated that he thought escorting prisoners to their cells and tying prisoners to pillars were beneath his status. His self-importance was bigger than the most pampered movie star, and Holly would have loved to shatter his ego.

“You will do as I say, dragon. I possess the first chapter. Balthazar gave it to me—not you.” He tossed a ring of keys to him. “Now, do as I say.”

Alastair caught the keys. “True. But ye let a page be stolen. How long do ye think he will allow ye to keep it?”

“Until he decides otherwise, Alastair, you will obey me.”

Henry’s haughty voice didn’t fool Holly. She could feel him trembling, and his heart was pounding faster and faster. He was afraid, very afraid. This wouldn’t bode well for her and Duncan. Terror made men careless and desperate—not a good combination.

Alastair snarled and stormed over to Séamus. He unlocked a wrist manacle, and Séamus collapsed. Alastair punched him in the jaw, and Séamus spun around on the chain, blood running down his chin.

Holly glared. “Such a brave man, Alastair. Beating the half-dead. It makes you a real man.”

He unlocked Séamus’ other manacle, and Séamus crashed to the floor, defeated and broken.

Alastair snatched an arm and dragged him across the floor. He stopped in front of Holly. “Ye’ll find out what kind of a man I’m tomorrow night, sweetheart. I plan on finishin’ what my brother started.”

Duncan’s eyes blazed gold. “No! I’ll na let you defile the lass.”

Dread sent adrenaline racing through her, and she pulled away from Henry. “Never! You’ll never touch me. I’d rather die first.”

Henry gripped her tightly. “Be careful what you wish for, love. Balthazar is coming tomorrow night and he’s bringing the black flower. So, he’s liable to grant your request—that is when all of us have had our fill of you.”

Holly bit her lip and cringed at the thought of being gang-raped by a man, a dragon, and a demon. How would she ever survive? She wouldn’t. She’d be joining her parents soon.

Duncan raised his head but stayed on his knees, waiting for his punishment. “Holly, I promise I’ll na let them hurt ye. Trust me.”

Holly desperately wanted to believe him, but he was a prisoner the same as she was. His brave words offered only a false comfort. Soon, she’d be dead. He would soon follow and join his precious Marigold. Why was she even thinking this? She was about to die a horrible death, and all she could do was be jealous of a dead woman.

“She’s none of your concern, fool,” Henry said. “I suggest you worry about your own skin.”

Blood drained from Duncan’s face. Holly had a horrible suspicion that Henry’s metaphor wasn’t a metaphor.

“Where are you takin’ her?” Duncan demanded.

“To her new quarters. You’ll join her soon enough. Don’t worry, Duncan, I have no intention of hurting either of you...yet. Tomorrow night is the new moon—the time of a new cycle. I will hand over two dragon souls to my master, and my power will increase. I will bring Questing Castle to the ground and have de Wolfe groveling at my feet.”