Jade stared at Raven, so Ophelia rushed to Guidon, and she bent so she could whisper into the librarian’s ear. “What is he doing?”
He is trying to break the contact so Her Majesty cannot drain the power from him, Guidon answered in her head. He is afraid of what she will do with such power.
She projected her thoughts to Guidon. What will happen to him?
He will die. But he believes Queen Jade will kill many with this power. I fear he is correct.
Her power was going to cost Ravenhunt’s life. Cost hundreds of lives. Maybe thousands. She could not let it happen.
What can I do?
You can take your power back, Guidon answered. The power will want to come to you. It belongs to you. Touch him now and the power is yours again. But then you will never be able to touch anyone again.
I won’t let him be destroyed. She ran forward and put her hand to Raven’s head. A bolt of force raced through her fingers, rushed through her heart, slammed deep into her. She cried out, staggering back. Her fingertips burned, and she shook her fingers, but it did nothing to cool them. A tingling shot up her arms, growing stronger. Her heart raced like mad.
What had she done? She was gulping in air but couldn’t breathe.
“Ophelia.” It was Althea’s firm, lovely voice, filled with concern.
“Don’t touch me!” she shouted.
Raven pushed to his feet, his eyes large and wild. He rushed toward her. “Ophelia, what did you do?”
“No!” Jade screeched. “No. That power is mine.” The queen lunged at her, grasped her shoulders. She tried to push the woman off, but Jade slapped her and shoved her back. Ophelia lost her balance and fell on her back, slamming onto the wood floor. Her breath flew out and she gasped and coughed. She had to get up—
Jade was on top of her, her knee on Ophelia’s chest, and she could not breathe. Raven jumped for Jade, but the queen lifted her hand. Raven flew backward, head over heels, and he smashed against the plaster wall. The queen’s demon servant, holding a sword, lunged at him.
No.
But as she struggled to push Jade off, the queen pressed her hand to Ophelia’s head. There was pain, then an icy coldness. Her limbs went weak, as if all her blood had drained away.
“Survive, Ophelia. Dear God, I love you so much.”
Raven was shouting at her. Shouting that he loved her.
Laughing triumphantly, Jade stood and glared down at her. Ophelia could not force her limbs to move.
“The power is mine. And first I will use it to destroy you—”
The queen jerked, her waist pushing forward, her shoulders falling back. A shrill scream left her lips and the slender body crumpled to the floor. She lay on her side, her gold lace dress spilling around her long legs.
Ophelia gasped and managed to sit up. The shaft of an arrow protruded from the queen’s back. It had gone through her heart.
The Earl of Brookshire swiftly reloaded his crossbow in the moment while everyone stood, stunned. De Wynter trained his weapon on the large demon. Ophelia saw Harry come to her side, and he held a wooden stake in his hand, ready to attack.
“I did not want to have to kill her,” the earl said, “but it was necessary.”
Warm, strong arms went around Ophelia. She turned, only to be captured by Raven’s dark, fierce gaze. He gathered her into his arms, lifted her off the floor, cradling her against his broad chest. “Are you all right? Do you hurt still?”
It felt so good to be cuddled against him. Her head fit in the crook of his shoulder. She breathed in his wonderful, male scent. “No, I am just weak.”
With complete seriousness in his eyes, he admonished, “Ophelia, you shouldn’t have done that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I could not let you die or be destroyed, Raven. If you thought I would do that, you are mad. I love you.”
“I know. It’s something I can’t quite believe.”
Althea came up to them. “I think we should have our conversation later. Right now, we should attempt to survive,” she pointed out. “We are in enemy territory.”
“Indeed, my dear Althea.” De Wynter motioned toward the demon with the crossbow. “All of you, on your knees.”
None of Jade’s servants obeyed. They wore mocking smiles. “You have the weapon, slayer, but you are outnumbered.”
It was true and Ophelia’s heart lurched. After all this, were they to lose? “How will we get past them?” she whispered to Raven.
He glanced to Brookshire and Mr. de Wynter. “I suspect they would not be so foolhardy as to come with so few men.”
Footsteps sounded in the corridor, and many armed men burst into the room. Raven had been right.
At their side, Althea laughed with delight. “It appears my husband sent servants to the Royal Society to bring help, and they came with the Society men.”
With so many armed men, and de Wynter barking commands, the queen’s servants surrendered completely. They got to their knees, their hands behind their heads.
“Your sister,” Ophelia gasped. “We must go to her.”
“She is safe,” Raven said hoarsely. “Now she needs to be freed.”
Her brother ran to Raven’s side. “Where is she?”
“Come with me, Darlington. I will take you to her. Unless you want to shoot and destroy me.”
“You were willing to die to save Frederica and Ophelia—my beloved and my sister.” Harry looked at Raven with genuine admiration. “I would never dream of attacking you. You have my undying gratitude.”
Ophelia let Raven hug her closer. “I can take you, Darlington,” he said, “but I cannot see her. She’s afraid of me.”
“No!” Ophelia cried. “She mustn’t be. Let me speak to her. I will make her see that you are still the brother she loves.”
Raven tenderly, slowly, kissed the top of her head. It was so sweet, so loving a gesture, Ophelia almost burst into tears. To be loved was a dream she had believed would never come true.
18
Tasting Him
“I can walk now,” Ophelia insisted as Raven carried her to a heavy oak door. He had gently taken her down the stone cellar steps and along an unlit, stone-walled passage, stopping here at the end of it. Light gleamed through a small gap between the door and the frame, allowing her to see. It was a door to a prison, with large iron hinges, but the thick padlock dangled from a hasp.
“No,” he growled. “You went through hell up there. I am trying to make amends.”
Her hands held his powerful arms. “You went through just as much. You don’t have to do this.” She loved being in his arms, but it was strange to be cossetted, treated as if she was broken. She didn’t want to act like a fainting ninny with no endurance, no capability of facing risk.
In truth, she had never felt stronger.
“I’m a vampire. To me you are as light as a feather.”
“I want you to be ready to embrace your sister,” she insisted. “You cannot do that if I am in your arms.”
He was sweet, showing her a kindness she hadn’t known for much of her life, but also arrogant. She had saved him by coming after him, but she had overheard him talk with de Wynter and Lord Brookshire. He would not excuse them for allowing her to come into danger.
She hadn’t yet told him she had agreed to be a distraction so they could break into the house.
Suddenly she realized she was afraid to tell Raven. He had been an assassin. What did a man like that do in rage? She owed their lives to Brookshire, his brother, and Althea. She dare not say anything that would make him hurt them.