Ice. It felt like ice.
In his throat. Catching at his breath. His lungs arrested.
Sterling staggered off the daybed and collapsed on the floor, trying to snatch at the set of hands strangling him.
“Begone!” Light suddenly flooded through the room as Edwina finally appeared, summoning a set of mage globes that swirled around her head. “Release him!”
And with her words, she cast her magic out in a net, locking around the entity trying to strangle him.
The hands vanished.
The sensation of ice left him. Sterling flipped to his hands and knees with a cough, clasping one hand against his chest.
The sensation of doom completely evaporated.
It felt as if the heat and light of Edwina’s presence could conquer even darkness itself.
“Damn it, Sterling.” She knelt beside him, resting her warm fingertips against his chest. Instantly, the pain and ache within his lungs vanished. “I told you that you were dangerously unguarded against psychic assaults.”
“What was that thing?” Willoughby demanded.
Lady Willoughby sat up with a gasp as if she’d been thrust under water, and whatever had been holding her down had finally let her go.
“Eliza!” Willoughby turned and captured her face in his hands. “Eliza, my love. You’re back! You’re back!”
“What happened?” she moaned, touching her chest. “What was it?”
“Fetch her tea!” Willoughby yelled as the servants bustled and scurried about. “Fetch the priest!”
Sterling pushed to his feet, dusting himself off. There was worry in Edwina’s eyes as she straightened his coat and shirt.
“Sterling?” she whispered.
“I’m fine.” Warmth shivered through him as she flooded his aura with heat and light, realigning it. “Did you see anything?”
“The entire room was blotted out with darkness,” she replied. “It was like wading into a raw cloud of rage. All I could see were your boots lying on the floor. And then as soon as I summoned a mage globe, it fled.”
“Rage?” That was unusual. He’d been feeling dread. “Where did it flee to?”
Edwina bit her lip and glanced sideways at Lady Willoughby.
Right. This discussion could be held later, in private. There was no point in alarming the locals, all of whom were practically defenseless in the wake of such an attack.
“Fine. You lay some wards over Lady Willoughby. I’ll go hunting and see if I can find anything lingering around the house.” He turned to go, but Edwina caught his sleeve.
“You are not fit for any astral projections,” she said sternly. “Not right now.”
He plucked her fingers from his sleeve. “Your wards are better than mine. And I’m fine, Edwina.”
“Sterling—”
“Later.” He stepped back.
Willoughby turned on them with a rage. “What the bloody hell was that?”
Three hours later, Edwina kicked her shoes off as she entered her bedchambers. She’d spent hours tracing wards and protective spells around both Lady Willoughby and the house, whilst Sterling meditated and tried to project himself astrally in order to see if some sort of presence was haunting the house.
Whatever had struck Lady Willoughby down was gone again. Vanished as if it had never existed, but Edwina could feel something twining its way around Lady Willoughby’s soul as she’d laid her wards.
