Authors: Tarah Scott
His lip curled in disdain. “The Templars were outlawed long ago.”
“True. Only your family secretly followed the order.”
Anger tightened his features. “You will have us burned at the stake with such accusations.”
“Death by burning at the stake was outlawed hundreds of years ago. Today, it’s lethal injection.”
A shadow crossed his face.
“Several hundred years?
I thought mayhap twenty or thirty years. Have I been imprisoned here so long?”
Margot fought the desire to smooth away the worry lines that creased his forehead. She forced a business-like tone. “Time flies when you’re enchanted in a painting. Listen, Colin—”
“Colin? You think—my God, woman, you have no comprehension of your good fortune. He called you here as he did the others, yet you stumbled upon my room instead.”
“Called me here? I saw you the day I arrived.” She took four steps and stopped in front of him. “You were waiting for someone.
Who?”
Surprise flicked in his eyes.
“Leave.”
“Fine by me.”
She took two steps, reached around his neck, and pulled him to her. He stiffened, but she forced his mouth to hers. Lips touched in moist warmth, and the desire that had lowered to a simmer bubbled over. Margot arched against him. His hard length dug into her abdomen. She moaned. This had to be the way out. Each time she’d had one of these dreams, she’s woken during climax. Colin abruptly shoved her away. She stumbled and fell.
“What’d you do that for?” She pushed to her feet.
“Get out!” he thundered.
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“Do ye not understand? Colin will come for you.”
She frowned. “Colin? Sugar, you’re a dream, and a dream can’t be schizophrenic. I get enough of that in real life.”
“It was not I who fucked you against the wall. It was Colin.”
“Like I said earlier, you can’t know what you did in another dream.”
He shook his head. “You do no' ken. I am
Logan
.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Margot stared. “
Logan
?”
Dread began another slow climb up her spine. Cat’s private version of the legend said the spell was meant for
Logan
. Yet Colin was the legendary serial killer. This man—her dream lover—was claiming to be the
good brother
. How many more twists could this dream take?
“Go,” he said, “and this time, do.
not
.
return
.”
“Wake me up and I will.”
He grasped her shoulders. “Lass, this is no dream. This is my and my brother's prison. He had you once. He will not make the mistake of losing you a second time. The moment I close my eyes or turn my back, he will call, and you will go.”
”Listen, Colin—”
“
Logan
.”
“Well, damn—
Logan
. If I’ve been with
Colin
before, why didn’t he kill me?”
He released her. “I do not know. The only woman who—” He broke off.
“What were you going to say?” she demanded.
“The only woman who what?”
“Get out while you can. I cannot protect you.”
”I can kick his ass—hell, I’ll kick yours.”
He bent his head so that his nose was a bare inch from hers. “I kicked
your
pretty ass. You have seen only a glimpse of my temper, and my brother’s is twice the size.”
“Only a woman pure of heart can free him. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it? Does the rest go something like,
the woman must be pure of mind, have a heart of gold, and the body of Aphrodite
?”
Margot didn’t wait for an answer, but spun and threw her palms up in exasperation. “I’m locked in a fucking loony bin. I’ve lost it, stepped over the edge. I’m as sick as Cat.”
She took three steps to the bed and dropped onto the mattress. “I’m too damn tired to keep this up. Maybe if I go to sleep, I’ll wake up in real life.”
He crossed to the bed and sat beside her. “You have tempted fate by coming here.”
“It wasn’t my doing.”
“No one can force you, lass, not even the witch that imprisoned me here.”
Margot thought of Cat. “No. It took another witch to get me here.”
“What?”
“Cat. My long lost murdering best friend, Caterine Bowers.”
“Catraoine?"
Shock flashed across his face.
“It isna' possible.
Hair black as night, green cat eyes,
a
body—” he broke off, and Margot finished, “worth the sinner’s price?”
She laughed in an effort to ward off the chill that coiled in her belly when he gave a small nod. “Sugar, you’re just a figment of my imagination, an extension of me. You can’t help but know everything I know.” She grimaced, “Talk about a new spin on fucking yourself.”
“Catraoine has returned,” he said. “She has spanned time. That should not surprise me. She wanted my brother, cost be dammed. When I dragged him into this hell with me, her anger must have known no bounds.”
“Dragged him?”
“Catraoine promised Colin the Templar’s treasure.”
“The treasure doesn’t exist,” she said.
“Of course no',” he said with a deprecating snort. “But greed clouds logic. Together, Catraoine and Colin were going to find the treasure and resurrect the knighthood.”
“Resurrect the knighthood? Why? The treasure is supposed to be so immense they would be among the richest people in the world. What would they need with the Templars?”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Why settle for riches when they could rule as the Templars did?”
“That sounds like Cat. She would rule in Hell if that was her only choice.”
“
Aye,
and they would not have been satisfied until they ruled all three realms. But they needed capital for the campaign. Colin imposed a heavier work load on our tenants and increased labor by taking on slaves and serfs. When I learned how he was abusing them, I confronted him. He denied knowledge of the mistreatment and blamed the overlords. I was no' so easily put off, and he plotted with Catraoine to dispose of me.”
“Dispose?” Margot raised a brow. “That sounds nasty.”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “Few things could be worse than this prison.”
“This
spell
is how they
disposed
of you? Why not just kill you?”
“Mayhap when I have the answer to that, I will be freed from this hell.”
“I thought a woman of pure mind could free you from the spell—let’s not forget the body of Aphrodite.”
“The spell is intended for my brother. I have no such savior.”
The words were spoken with conviction—too much conviction. What was he hiding? Margot grimaced inwardly. She was taking this dream too seriously—awareness rolled over her. She shoved to her feet.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“I intend to find out.”
He shot to his feet and seized her arm. “Colin is calling you. I will not let ye go to your death.”
“How can he possibly hurt me?”
A heartbeat of silent passed. “You saw the other women.”
Margot gave a slow nod. She’d seen them. “How does he kill them? There’s no sign of violence.”
His mouth thinned. “Leave it be, lass. Return home." He squeezed her arm. "Forget this place.”
“So far, my only way out has been through you—and you say—your brother. Unlike those women, however, I'm still alive.”
“You have no comprehension of the power in her magick.”
Margot scrutinized him.
“A reincarnated witch.”
His brow furrowed “Re-incarnated?"
"The afterlife, the soul being reborn."
"
Ategenos
—rebirth.
Aye," he murmured. "Even her name is the same.”
Margot gave him a deprecating look. “Come on—”
“Catraoine— it is the Irish Gaelic of the Old French Caterine, meaning pure.”
“Pure?” Margot laughed. “Cat is anything but pure.”
“She is the same woman, the same murderess.”
“Murderess, yes,” Margot agreed.
“How many has she killed?” he demanded.
“Two that I know of.
But there will be more, if there haven't been already.”
He nodded. “She murdered in my lifetime, as well.”
Margot pinned him with a stare.
“Who?”
“Her husband.”
The earlier chill dug deeper. What had she expected? This was her psyche following a pattern that wasn’t about to quit until she fit the final piece into the puzzle.
“Which method did she use to kill?” he asked.
Margot started from her thoughts. “What?”
“Catraoine understood the mystery of herbs. Rumor said she fed her husband a poison that paralyzed him. He fell while…”
Margot’s surroundings melted into the vision of a champion swimmer as his muscles shut down while swimming. The arm reaching over his head for a powerful stroke hit the water with an uncontrolled splash and he kicked in a frenzy to stay afloat. One leg, then the other seized up. He sank, the muscles in his mouth not obeying the command to close, and water filled mouth and nostrils.
Laryngospasm
; the uncontrolled muscle spasm that should have shut down the passageway into the lungs to keep the water out until he succumbed to blessed unconsciousness didn't happen because the laryngeal cords were deadened by the lethal herb, and water gushed into his lungs as he descended deeper into the murky depths. Each second of the seven to ten minutes it took to suffocate lengthened into an eternity of terror as he stared into the shadowy nothingness of water until his sight dimmed to a point, then mercifully, went dark.
A sob broke into the picture and Margot realized she had made the sound.
“Lass.”
Strong arms encircled her and pulled her tight against a solid chest. Tears stung like tiny needles and grief gushed forward.
“Donny,” she whispered, and buried her face in his chest.
She cried until her eyes ran dry, then she quieted and relaxed deeper into his warmth. “It’s not so much that he’s gone,” she said, “people die.”
Even family.
“But to die like that.”
An involuntary shudder shook her.