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He tsked. “So bloodthirsty for one so young.”

“I’m not fucking sixteen anymore, Clayton. I’m twenty-nine.” I took several more steps, then carefully tugged my T-shirt free from my jeans, making sure the knife didn’t move in the process. I pulled the shirt off and once again tossed it at him. This time it hit his chest and fell to his feet. I hoped it meant he wasn’t guarded, but until I used the knife, I wouldn’t know for sure.

I licked my lips, my heart racing, and sweat trickling down my spine. Five steps. Five more steps and he’d be within reach… and I’d be within his.

But for this to have any chance of working, I’d have to let him touch me.

I shuddered even as the memory of rough fingers against tender skin rose. Just for a moment I froze, unable to force my feet any closer. Then determination surged, a thick wave of strength that quickly washed away uncertainty. It didn’t come from Gabe or even the wild magic that burned unseen around my wrist, but rather from deep within.

I wasn’t that frightened sixteen-year-old anymore. I was a strong, capable woman who’d faced down rogue mages and the darkest of demons.

He might be stronger than me, both physically and magically, but he was also overconfident. He didn’t think I was a threat—not in any way. That gave me an advantage—a brief but very important advantage.

As did the fact he was blind in the left eye.

I took a step forward and to the left. Three more, and I could knife him.

His eyes skimmed my breasts, and heat stirred in his eyes. “The bra.” His voice was husky. Urgent. “Remove the bra.”

I reached back and undid my bra. As I tossed it onto the floor, Katie said, Maelle’s entered the house. Keep his attention.

I took a deep breath and another step forward. I was now within stabbing range. For several seconds, he watched the rise and fall of my breasts with almost avid fascination. Then he reached out and, with one cold cruel hand, grabbed a breast and squeezed. Hard. I gasped in pain and fought the urge to reach for the knife. To slice away the offending fingers and then cut the satisfied smile from his lips. But I couldn’t, not as long as Belle remained trapped by his power. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a brief shimmer of movement; a heartbeat later, the duct tape binding her ankles had been sliced away.

Maelle. Relief surged, but the danger was far from over. If I did anything—if I even twitched the wrong way—he’d sense her.

His grip moved to my other breast, and I hissed in pain. He laughed, the sound sharp and familiar. The same sound had haunted my dreams for nigh on thirteen years now.

“Enjoy it while you can,” I growled. “Because one day your attention and your control will slip, and then I will kill you.”

“Oh, you can try, young woman, but we both know that you have neither the magic nor the strength to defeat me.” He tugged on a nipple; tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them back fiercely. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

He laughed again. “Take off your jeans.”

Belle made a long, long sound that was part muffled scream, part growl.

“It’s okay, Belle,” I said, holding Clayton’s gaze. “Everything will be okay. Just trust me.”

Her quick flick of understanding rolled around me. She might not know what I planned, but at least she now knew there was a plan.

I took another of those deep breaths. All but one of Belle’s restraints had been removed. Maelle would have her out of here any second now… but the minute she moved, the game would be up and all hell would break loose.

I had to time my assault to perfection…

I kicked off one boot. Saw the last piece of tape fall away. Kicked off my other boot. Saw a shimmer fall around Belle, cloaking her from sight. I undid the top button of my jeans. Clayton took a sharp breath, his attention on my fingers as they caught the zipper tab. I reached back with my free hand and gripped the hilt of my knife.

The chair shifted, scraping across the wooden floor, the sound sharp in the silence.

Clayton’s head snapped around. “What the fuck—?”

I yanked the knife free and lunged forward; his magic burned across my hand but didn’t react to the knife. A heartbeat later, it was buried deep in his gut.

He howled in fury and backhanded me so hard that I was flung back across the room. I hit the wall with a grunt of pain and slithered to the floor. Felt the fury of his approach through the floorboards and threw myself sideways. Magic seared my side, wrenching a scream from my lips. A hand grabbed me, drew me upward. I kicked him in the nuts with every ounce of strength I had. He grunted and released me with a suddenness that had me staggering backward.

His magic rose again, and I flung out a hand. Words poured from my lips, a spell I didn’t know. Power swirled around me, forming a shield that met Clayton’s magic and pushed it away.

He screamed and charged, punching and slapping and cursing. I ducked and backed away, but the room wasn’t large enough and I wasn’t fast enough. One blow got through, skimming my chin, sending me flying. I tumbled over the chair and hit the ground hard enough to see stars. Heard the thunder of his approach, smelled his utter fury, felt the rise of magic so fierce it blistered my skin. Words sprang from my lips, and magic rose. Clayton batted it aside easily.

This was the end.

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