Page 48 of Last Call at the Doghouse

“I would not.”

If he didn’t like it then she didn’t, either. “She’s had the book for days, now. Doesn’t she already have those answers?”

“No. It’s a difficult book to decipher,” Sonny said. “Maybe impossible, but that’s a chance I can’t take.”

“You’re going to destroy it.”

“I am. Without the spell and potion in this book the only way for Armi to rein the magic back would be to sacrifice herself, and she won’t do that. She’s too selfish.”

Armi isn’t selfish. Mary kept that thought to herself.

“The upcoming equinox is the last chance, the only chance, to stop what’s coming,” Sonny said. “After it passes with no rebuilding of the barrier, the only way to stop me and mine will be all out war.”

She wanted to believe that the man she loved would be on the right side of any coming war, but she couldn’t kid herself. It didn’t really matter. Shouldn’t that bother her?

Sonny came up behind her. His arms slipped around her waist. One large hand snaked up to her throat where he gripped and squeezed just a touch too hard.

“You should’ve stayed behind,” he whispered, then he leaned down and kissed her shoulder.

“I won’t allow you to leave me.”

He gripped her throat a bit harder. “I don’t need you anymore. You see that, don’t you?”

“Of course you need me.” Her voice squeaked. He squeezed too hard. This was not a lover’s caress; it was dangerous. It hurt. Would he kill her? There were moments when she thought maybe he loved her a little, just not the way she loved him. Right now, she wasn’t so sure. She’d served a purpose, that was all.

She could still serve a purpose.

“Armi might cause you trouble, even after you destroy the book. You know how she is. She doesn’t give up.” Her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper now.

“What could you possibly do about that?” His hold on her throat lessened a little.

“I can distract her. I can stop her. I can… hurt her if I need to. She’d never see me coming.”

His hand dropped from her throat. “You would do that?”

“For you?” For him and the life he’d promised her. “Yes.” She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. “When do we go to Mystic Springs, love?”

“We have a couple of days,” he answered.

“I know how we can spend those days,” she said with a smile, the hand on her throat forgotten, his harsh words about no longer needing her fading away. “Where’s the bedroom?”

Sonny wasn’t thinking about sex at the moment, she could tell. She felt it. He was too distracted by the book, by Armi and what she might do. When he’d needed both hands to hold her so desperately, he’d placed the book on an antique table in the foyer, near a vase of silk flowers that were just a little dusty. She’d take care of the dust later. Their home should be spotless. Pristine. She’d see to that.

She picked up the book she’d stolen for Sonny. Earlier in the evening it had seemed normal enough, but right now the red cover felt oddly warm, as if it were alive. Maybe it was.

Mary started to turn back the cover, to leaf through the pages, but she quickly thought better of it. She’d seen just enough magic recently to know she didn’t want to mess with things she didn’t understand. In these pages were instructions for a way to save Armi from a terrible fate. She should want to protect that information and save her friend. Maybe Sonny was right and Armi wasn’t the self-sacrificing type. In the end Sonny would have what he wanted and Armi would be fine. Just fine. It had to be that way.

Carrying the book, she walked into the parlor which was situated in the center of the house. Sonny followed her. Or did he follow the book? It didn’t matter. She’d seen a chimney from the driveway, and if she was right…

She was. A huge, cold fireplace was built into the east wall. Like the rest of the structure, it was old but well-kept. There were even logs laid there for a cozy fire. Were the flames meant to be romantic or destructive? Maybe they could be both.

She hugged the warm book to her chest. “Build me a fire, love?”

With a flick of his fingers, Sonny did as she’d asked. A flame flickered, danced, then roared to life, putting off tremendous heat. Too much for even a cool September evening in Alabama, but still… it would do the trick.

I’m sorry Armi. The words crossed her mind, but they didn’t last. Armi was her friend. Sonny was her life.

She tossed the book into the fire, resisting the brief but powerful instinctive urge to pull it back out again and preserve the precious pages. No, this was what Sonny needed. The book had to be destroyed. They stood there and watched the flames lick at the book, consume the cover, then obliterate the pages. It was a thin book, so the process didn’t take long. Soon there was nothing in the fireplace but flames and ash.