Page 52 of Dark Victory

“I am so sorry for what you went through,” she said softly, thinking about how terrible it must have been to lose your entire family and be the only one to survive.

He turned to look at her. For one more moment, she saw him as that grief-stricken and enraged boy. Then it was Macleod standing there, the grief replaced by fury. Behind them, the display case rattled. “The amulet is mine.”

Tabby went still and then dread arose swiftly. “Macleod, no! The pendant was found in the ruins of Melvaig quite recently. Apparently it was in the fire of 1550. It belongs to the British government.”

His expression was ruthless. “’Twas my mother’s. It belongs to me.”

She clung to his hand with both her hands now. “Don’t do anything rash. Please, let’s go and calmly discuss this.”

His smile was chilling. “There’s naught to discuss, Tabitha.”

This was not going well, Tabby thought. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the off-duty cop and his girlfriend across the room, wandering about the adjacent exhibit. Her unease escalated. Had they followed them? “Macleod. Let’s go. Let’s grab a coffee and talk about Melvaig, your enemies, the fire, and try to figure this out.” She hadn’t even finished speaking when a security guard rounded the corner.

Macleod turned. The display case shattered. Alarms screamed.

“Damn it!” Tabby cried.

Macleod seized the pendant through the broken glass case.

“Hey, you! Halt! Put your hands up!” the security guard cried, training his gun at them.

“Let’s go,” Macleod said calmly to her.

“Put your hands up!” the guard screamed.

Tabby closed her eyes and thought, Good over Macleod, good around him. Good everywhere, barring dark intent. Circle formed, protecting him.

Macleod seized her arm, ruining her concentration. “We have no time fer magic now!” he said, already hurrying her toward the hall and staircase.

The guard began speaking on his radio, behind them.

“Halt right now, before I blow your fucking head off.”

Tabby knew it was the bad cop and she was horrified. She tried to halt. Macleod tightened his grasp on her, saying, “Come!” He started to run, dragging her with him.

Tabby screamed, “He’ll kill you!” She was certain he could not survive a bullet to the back of his head.

“Fuck you,” the cop snarled, behind them.

Macleod roared, turning, flinging his arm as the gun fired, but no power blazed. Tabby cried out as the bullet hit him high on the chest, but he only flinched, when a mortal would have gone down.

The cop’s eyes went wide. “One of them,” he said, about to shoot again.

Macleod moved faster than the human eye. His dagger, which had been in his boot, beneath the jeans, landed in the cop’s heart as the gun went off again. The bullet went astray, hitting the wall, as the cop collapsed.

The guard shouted, “He’s killed Frankie!” He ran up the hall toward them, gun in hand.

Macleod marched forward, his face savage. Tabby thought he meant to murder the guard with his bare hands. She screamed at him. “He’s an Innocent! Don’t!”

But then he tore his dagger from the cop and straightened, staring at the guard. The security officer hesitated, his face pale, his gun trained on Macleod.

She had to save him.

And suddenly the morning became still, silent. Suddenly she was so calm, so detached. “Good over Macleod, good around him. Good everywhere, barring dark intent. Circle formed, protecting him,” Tabby chanted. The air shimmered around Macleod. Vaguely she heard the sirens outside and booted steps pounding madly up the stone stairs.

Tabby focused her entire being on the spell as the guard pulled the trigger. Only a loud click sounded.

The guard blanched, clearly in disbelief.