Page 118 of Dark Victory

He had lost her this way, before…

“No!” he roared.

The fire erupted, reaching the tower roof, consuming her completely.

“Tabitha!” he screamed.

Then the fire was gone, and there was only the charred ruin of the tower room.

And across the room, upon the floor, he saw the gold necklace she had worn for two-and-a-half centuries, the amulet he had given her.

It had survived the fire, untouched and unscarred; his wife, who had powerful magic, had not.

It struck him then, in the most shattering moment of his life—she was gone.

“No!” He leaped into time to find her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

An Tùir-Tara

June 1, 1550

SHE WAS ABOUT TO BE burned alive.

Tabby was terrified. She did not want to die, not now, not yet! Her life flashed before her eyes—and it was her life with Macleod. She hadn’t even seen him take his vows! But she knew he would, because the man who’d just been with her in the central tower had been strong and old and wise…a Master of Time.

She could not die that day.

She became impossibly still, crouching. She forced the fear aside. And as she did, she started to realize that the fire blazed around her, but it wasn’t touching her. She was incredulous. Several feet separated her from the flames. And there wasn’t even any heat inside the small protective space where she crouched.

Tabby slowly straightened, amazed. Her spell was so strong now it was protecting her from the fire, or someone else was. She thought she felt her grandmother, hovering watchfully close by.

But Criosaidh was still out there.

Tabby knew she had to finish this.

Only one of them was going to make it out alive.

She put every thought and feeling aside now except for her sheer determination to win. “Come to me, witch, come to me now. Enter my fire, witch. Come to me now.”

The fire roared, as high as tall fir trees, but Tabby wasn’t afraid. She was entirely focused on her enemy. The fire was her ally, her friend and her weapon. Suddenly she felt the evil and hatred approaching.

She felt herself smile and she murmured, “It’s so cold, isn’t it, Criosaidh? You need to warm yourself in my fire.”

And through the wall of flames, she saw a wind kick up, slamming all the shutters closed in the tower room.

Tabby tensed, shocked. The shutters kept slamming, cracking the stone walls, as the energy gusted through the wall of fire, blasting her face and bare chest with frigid air. There was no mistaking Criosaidh’s ghost.

And the circle of fire seemed to hesitate. But fire did not like the cold.

“Not so smart, ghost,” Tabby murmured. “Fire arise!”

It blazed.

The shutters flew from the windows, breaking apart and shattering, wood flying everywhere, the evil viciously furious now.

“Come to me, witch, come to me now. Bring me your living form,” Tabby cried. She had to lure Criosaidh close now and get rid of that demonic spirit!