Unable to reach my weapon in time, her knife flashed in the moonlight. I tried to roll and dodge it but only managed to lift my arms and shield my body.
“No!” Derrick’s guttural cry ricocheted off the brick building.
The blade sliced through the sleeve of my cloak and bit into skin. I gasped as I reached for the wound. My fingers came away sticky with blood.
Helen backed up, her eyes wild, then thrust the knife again, aiming for my chest.
Magic finally surged from my fingertips, releasing into her. Her body convulsed, and she staggered back. It bought me enough time.
Falling within reach, Derrick tackled her to the ground. The knife skittered across the stones while Helen shrieked, fighting with her whole body, but his knee pressed firm into her back, forcing her face to the gravel. He wrenched her arms behind her and circled iron cuffs around her wrists.
“It’s over, Helen. You’re under arrest.”
Heaving her to her feet, Derrick passed her off to a waiting officer. More had converged on our location, watching as Helen tried to dislodge the man. She looked arrogant. Her laughter filled the air.
“It’s not over. Not even close.”
Derrick barked instructions as officers dragged her away. Another burst of her crazed laughter made my skin crawl. She was insane. How could she have poisoned her own stepsister?
I pressed my fingers against my forehead. Pressure built behind my eyelids and it hurt to think. Helen had to be working with someone else, possibly the man Argus had seen with Jane Porter before her death. She would talk. She couldn’t hold out forever.
We were so close.
So…lightheaded?
A wave of dizziness caused bile to climb my throat. I reached for the wall to steady myself.
“Uh, Derrick? Something’s wrong.” Tongue thick in my mouth, I couldn’t form the words. They sounded slurred, faraway. I tried again, my sentence worse the second time.
“Tessa, are you all right? Let me see your arm.” He broke away from the officers, and I blinked to clear my vision as his features split into two. Four arms, four legs, running now, as I swayed on my feet. The ground rushed to meet me. He caught me before I hit the dirt.
Derrick examined my injury, tearing at my cloak until the wound met fresh air. I hissed in a breath as his fingers probed the laceration.
“It’s not deep and barely bleeding. I don’t understand what’s happening.”
Another wave of dizziness hit, buckling my knees. His grip strengthened, keeping me upright. Spots danced in my vision.Of all the rotten luck.I struggled to speak. Had to let him know…
“The knife,” I mumbled. “She poisoned it. Take me to Vivian.”
He was already lifting me up, my feet losing purchase on the ground as he tucked me against his chest. “Bring the knife,” he shouted over a shoulder. Smart. We’d need that.
Haze clouded my thoughts. There was something we could do. A spell, maybe? I wasn’t very good at spells. I never wanted my life to depend on one—it didn’t bode well. My head lolled against his chest. Derrick’s footsteps were so loud, pounding in my ear.No.His heart. It knocked fast on his ribcage, and I pressed my palm against the spot.
“Shh… I’m trying to sleep.”
“You can’t sleep right now.” He jostled me, making my surroundings spin.
My stomach rolled. I hated Helen with every fiber of my being. Whatever she’d laced the blade with was going to make me toss my dinner at Derrick’s feet. Hopefully, by then, death would be swift. You didn’t come back from humiliation like that, not when you’d had a huge bowl of Vivian’s hearty chicken stew for dinner.
Seconds passed. Minutes? Time was fuzzy. We stopped, and Derrick tossed a terse command at someone above him. Who was he talking to? Horses neighed, and I knew.
“Don’t talk to the horses,” I groaned. “They can’t help.”
“I’m not talking to the horses.”
Somewhere close by, reins snapped. My hands tangled in his shirt, pulling at the fabric.
“You can’t make me ride a horse. I won’t forgive you. I’m too dizzy, and you’re likely to drop me.”
