“They will know that you are a murderer, Uncle Lowell. They will all be searching for me, and you will not be among them.”
“They will not notice that I am not running here and there with the others,” he said.
“You cannot keep this up and survive!” she claimed.
His old face crinkled deeply for a moment. “You do not know the power of Satan, child. But soon, ’tis his bride in blood you will be this night!”
He swung around, his cloak swirling with him. He lifted his hand, and suddenly, the chanting stopped.
Even those who had argued with him began to sway. Now, they all waited.
With breathless anticipation.
The markings of Satan had been painted on her naked flesh in blood.
She was ready.
Lowell drew a wicked handled blade high to ripple silver in the glow of a half dozen torches and the myriad candles.
“Laird of Darkness, accept this sacrifice!” Lowell suddenly cried out.
Chanting began again. And Lowell started to walk around the altar where she lay.
Her mouth went dry with terror.
He was going to kill her.
Any moment now, any second, he would slay her. He had no more interest in hearing anything else that she might have to say, and he had nothing more to say to her.
She was surrounded by faceless, cloaked figures, and she was going to die.
Just when she had discovered that she’d had a child. Seized and stolen from her by these wretched, bloodthirsty lunatics. A child they might well have taken tonight for his innocent blood. A child Lowell had kept alive just for the right time to kill…
She had a child. A beautiful boy.
And she had…
A husband.
Oh god, David. He could be arrogant and aggravating, he could infuriate her to the greatest passion…
Trying to keep her alive.
She couldn’t die. She couldn’t die. She couldn’t allow them to kill her!
And she would not do so.
She strained frantically against the ties that bound her, and she began to scream…
James McGregor had led a group of men into the mines. Hawk and Sloan had gone through the water to the lair David had discovered.
David chose the cliff tops himself, Alistair MacGinnis at his side, Edwina right behind him, while others followed closely in his wake.
“It’s got to be something of an accessible entrance!” David called. “They entered so quickly.”
“Sweet Jesus, I work at the wretched mines near every day of my life. The corridors, tunnels, crannies—are endless.”
“It doesn’t matter. We must find the entrance.”