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All he wanted to do was kiss her. Fuck the guards around the corner. Forget the Caladbolg sword he’d given to Harold. Never mind the rest of the world. He just wanted her. “That’s the only reason?”

She blinked rapidly and turned to stare at him. “The only one that matters.”

Slapping his hand away from her chin, Red closed herself up again, blocking him from seeing whatever was going on behind her damp eyes. She stepped around him.

Space. She obviously needed it. And if that was all he could give her, then so be it, no matter how much seeing her without touching her killed him.

He shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “So what’s the plan?”

She motioned toward the gate. “We walk out the front.”

And she’d thought his plan had been idiotic? “What about the twenty guards armed to the teeth standing in front of it?”

“Don’t worry about them.” A fireball exploded on the complex’s eastern side and Red smirked. “Harold’s a fabulous diversion.”

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Right in the nick of time before Red forgot about everything else and fell back into Liam’s arms, Harold lit up the east side of the Royal Flush Toilet Emporium. If she could, she would have kissed every hot-pink scale on his head for saving her in more ways than one. Temporary as it may be, the love spell had gotten under her skin and was making her edgy and unsure—vulnerable. Exactly what she’d always fought against being.

“Come on.” She grabbed Liam’s hand. “That’s our cue.”

They sprinted toward the front gate. Halfway there, the ground rumbled under their feet. She sped up but it was too late. A pair of green ogres flanked the King, the three of whom blocked her and Liam’s path to the gate. The green ogres may have been only hip high to the five-foot-nothing King, but they were as deadly as a runaway train. Teeth sharpened to spikes, hands powerful enough to crush diamonds and breath so nasty it made plants wilt, the ogres specialized in personal security for the hard-to-secure.

She jerked to a stop. “Well, if it isn’t the Doublemint twins.”

“That never gets old, Red,” one of them squeaked.

“Now there’s no need to be like that, Hansel.” The King shushed one ogre before turning to the other. “And Gretel, how many times do I have to explain that hissing isn’t ladylike?”

This wasn’t going to end well. She squeezed Liam’s hand, he returned the signal. He knew the reality of their situation too. The ogres weren’t known for losing. Ever. Unless the King was feeling generous, this was the end of the line.

Planting her feet shoulder-width apart and releasing Liam’s hand, she took in a deep breath before giving the king her full attention. “You’ve got your hands full; we’ll just get out of your hair.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, the move highlighting his rounded belly, and rocked back on his heels. “I can’t allow that.”

“Who said we were asking for your permission?” Liam snarled, his hands fisted at his sides but ready for action.

Out of the corner of her eye Red caught a glimpse of a hot-pink flash swooping through the orange-tinged sky half a second before the warehouse burst into flames. The heat licked at her skin and she jumped back. If Harold stuck to the plan, he was on his way back at Granny’s Pub by now, ready to chomp down on chicken wings and peanuts from a perch on the roof. There wasn’t enough room for Harold to land in the courtyard and whisk them away, so she and Liam had to make it out on their own. Easy. Peasy.

“Hansel and Gretel,” the king screamed, “sic him.”

The vicious duo surged toward Liam in unison, swirling around him like an evil tornado. They launched themselves upward, each one landing on an arm and sinking their sharp teeth into him while their claws pierced his flesh. He grabbed Hansel by the back of the neck and tossed him to the ground. Blood gushed from the wound left by the ogre’s teeth. Just as Liam turned his attention to unclamping Gretel from his other arm, Hansel set to work on Liam’s leg, slicing through the thick leather biker boot as if it were a warm stick of butter.

Ruthless in their attack and merciless in their demeanor, ogres had been known to pick their teeth with the bones of their victims in full view of the victim’s wailing children. Red wasn’t about to sit by and watch Hansel and Gretel practice good dental hygiene with Liam’s femur.

She tried to reach for the mini-flamethrower sheathed on her belt, but her arms wouldn’t move. They stayed glued to her sides, as useless as feathers on a fish. Sweat streamed down her face as she fought with everything she had to just move her fingers an inch or two as the ogres’ ferocious battle cries gained in strength. The sound drove an ice pick of terror into her heart.

“Funny thing about witches, they love their loopholes.” The King strolled over to her as calm and cool as if there wasn’t a fight to the death going on in front of them and his warehouse wasn’t turning to ash a few yards away. “When the witch I hired warded the complex against magic, she put in a little twist to the spell’s language so that my magic would still work. You’re not going anywhere, you naughty girl. I have plans for you.”

His threat barely made a blip on her radar as she watched, helpless, as the ogres continuing their dual attack—kicking, punching, biting and slicing their way through Liam.

Most men would have given in to the inevitable by now and been grateful if death came swiftly, but not Liam. He wound his left hand around Gretel’s long hair and yanked her head back. The move altered her grip on his right arm and with a great primal yell, he dislodged her. Before the ogre even had a chance to respond, he lifted her high in the air and twirled her around by her scraggly brown hair before tossing her toward the warehouse flames. Green smoke erupted when she hit what turned out to be her funeral pyre.

Hansel stumbled back from Liam as the green smoke wafted up into the sky and let loose with an angry, mournful howl that set off car alarms on the street and shattered glass in the neighboring buildings. Then, he set his sights on Liam and ran toward him with full force.

But it was too late. Hansel’s keening had given Liam enough time to launch a handful of ninja stars at the remaining ogre. The impact threw Hansel backward. All five had found there marks. The ogre struggled to regain his footing, but it was too late. He collapsed and transformed to green smoke.

Liam had beaten the ogres, but it had cost him. He stood, bleeding and battered, looking as if he’d gone six rounds with Harold and lost—badly. If she didn’t get him out of here and soon, he was going to die. Already an otherworldly paleness had replaced his tan complexion. He grinned at her and gave an unsteady thumbs up.

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