Page 115 of Dark Victory

Kristin sneered. “Oh, I let the bitch live.”

Tabby was so angry she had to close her eyes for an instant. Anger would only interfere with her magic, and she needed her power now. She needed it as never before. It had to work.

Because as much as she did not want to fight Kristin—especially if Kristin really had the source of evil she claimed—there might never be as opportune a time. Once Criosaidh arrived, it would be two against one. And Kristin had hurt Sam.

She wished Macleod would sense her distress and help her out. She didn’t care if it was her Macleod from 1298, or the older man who was currently a few miles away.

But she couldn’t count on him, or anyone.

She could do this. Tabby looked coldly at Kristin. “Fire await my very command. Fire be my weapon and my plan,” she murmured. And heat seemed to tickle her fingertips, the way it might spark from the tip of a matchstick. She glanced down at her chest. The moonstone on the gold palm was as brilliant as a laser-cut diamond now.

Kristin’s eyes widened. “Noose, obey me. Noose, tighten!” she cried.

There was no effect. Relieved, Tabby ordered, “Fire arise.”

Fire blazed between them.

Kristin cried out.

“Fire arise!” Tabby cried louder.

And the fire became an inferno, cutting Kristin off from the doorway. Where Tabby stood, there was not a single spark, and the air was pleasantly cool.

Kristin began to choke. Then her skirts caught on fire and she screamed, beating at them with her hands. She screamed again, the guards rushing into the room, but before they could reach her, her skirts blazed.

Tabby knew she couldn’t go through with this kind of violence and cruelty. She wasn’t a Slayer. Her magic was meant to be used to help others, not hurt or destroy them. “Fire obey me, fire go out.”

The fire died.

Kristin staggered back, her skirts falling apart, looking at Tabby, her eyes glazed with pain, fear and hatred. Then she rushed from the room.

The two soldiers backed out, slamming the door.

As it closed, she felt Criosaidh’s evil welling up from the lower floors.

Tabby’s spine hit the wall. She grasped the pendant, and repeated her protection spell. The chamber shifted. The air glimmered. And Criosaidh began to materialize.

“YOU HAVE CERTAINLY improved your ability to leap. You do know, don’t you, that by now MacGregor has put out a Code Red, since we’ve overstayed our historic welcome by an entire seventy-one minutes and five seconds.”

As they paused in the central courtyard of a much more lavish and modern Melvaig Castle, Nick seized Jan’s arm. “How could I not follow Tabby here?”

Jan went still. They both watched Kristin run into the courtyard, coughing, her skirts badly singed and burned. She fell to her hands and knees, gasping for air. “I wish you weren’t right ninety percent of the time.”

“Actually, I’m right ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time.” Nick grinned. But the words weren’t even out of his mouth when fire exploded in the sky above them.

“Must be June nineteenth,” Nick muttered, but he was striding toward Kristin.

“Tabitha’s up there. What should I do?” Jan cried.

Kristin froze on all fours, and her gaze locked with Nick’s. Slowly, with malice, she smiled. “It’s not June nineteenth, Forrester. We will change your history today.”

“Like hell you will.” He smiled coldly back, comprehending her. He would never let the demon witch change history. A huge gust of shockingly cold air hit him, but he refused to budge or be pushed back. “Are you kidding me?”

“Noose, find him,” she hissed.

He instantly blasted her, thinking about Elizabeth Adler, but as he did, he felt the rope around his neck. He knew it was her magic, and he didn’t try to seize the cord, as nothing would be there. He breathed harder, choking, but he blasted her. She cried out, his energy hurling her into the tower wall.

“Noose, tighten!”