Giselle had died because Milly had, in a way, forced her to take a truth spell.
“Medic,” I yelled, lowering her to the ground, doing what I knew she would expect. Milly still thought we were friends, thought I would help her. Let her think that until the second my sword bit through her spine. Her eyelashes fluttered and she let out a low groan.
I stepped back and eased my swords from their sheaths on my back, holding them loosely at my sides. I didn’t have the spell Terese had given me to put Milly to sleep; of course I’d left that at home, not for one second had I thought Milly would find me here in London. Or would want to find me, for that matter. A sudden image of my blood on her moving boxes flashed through my mind. Shit, I’d given her what she needed for a locator spell. They were tough to weave from what I knew, and only worked if you had the blood of the person you wanted to find.
“I’m so sorry, he’s gone berserk. I don’t know how he followed me here. I didn’t know where else to go.” She opened her green eyes to stare up at me, looking to me for safety, and my heart clutched against my ribcage, not for her, but for someone else. She couldn’t be talking about O’Shea, could she?
No, she wouldn’t have tried to take him out too, would she? Shit, of course she would.
Which meant that Giselle’s last words meant even more now. Trust your heart.
The roar of a man caught between beast and human echoed into the room. Backlit with the light from the open door, O’Shea stood on the threshold, bare-chested, and bare foot with only a pair of tattered khaki pants on, and a flashy gold chain around his neck. A chain that looked remarkably similar to the anklet Milly had made for Eve.
My heart thumped hard at the sight of him, the first in over a month. He’d leaned out, any excess he’d burnt off with the shifting from wolf to man and back again.
“I’m here to kill Alex,” he said, the words in a monotone, like a robot working on command. It had to be the collar, there was no other thing that would make O’Shea go after Alex, even at his weakest time when he first was bitten he managed to control himself.
Alex swayed side to side as he clung to a chair, ears flipped back in submission. “Not right, not right. No kill Alex!”
Not taking my eyes off O’Shea, I said, “Milly, hold O’Shea back. Something’s wrong and I need to talk to him.” I knew she would refuse, but I had to ask.
Her words were soft, and I could hear the regret in them, but she didn’t apologize. “I can’t, I’m exhausted.”
Fuck, I hated being right! O’Shea’s eyes flicked over me then skidded over to Alex. With a second roar, he leapt through the room, scattering people as their brains finally clicked in. I heard the first shot of a gun, felt the bullet careen past my head, though I was a long ways from O’Shea and the bullet’s trajectory.
“Gun’s won’t work,” I yelled, yanking my two blades free of their sheaths. I stood in O’Shea’s path.
Time seemed to slow, giving me long moments to think. I didn’t want to do this. My heart slammed against my chest and in a moment of desperation, I Tracked O’Shea. Sure, he was right in front of me, but I needed to know what he was feeling.
Anger. Fear. Desperation. Shame.
Shit, this was about to get bad real fast.
“Liam, don’t do this!” I knew I somehow had to get to the torc, past his reach; then time seemed to pick back up again. My onetime lover-newbie werewolf and FBI agent slammed into me, knocking me to the floor. Could I have run him through? Yes, but I couldn’t, not with what I knew in my gut, in my heart. This wasn’t O’Shea; this was Milly. I rolled to my feet. “Alex, here,” I yelled, and the werewolf skidded out of O’Shea’s reach and cowered behind me.#p#分页标题#e#
O’Shea twisted around toward me and the ache in his eyes, the pain there stunned me. “Don’t do this,” I said, my hand shaking. “I don’t want to kill you, Liam!” I had to keep Milly thinking I believed what was going on. Keeping Alex behind me, I pushed backwards, working my way to where Milly had last been.
The Officers in the room were spread out, watching this play out like a hostage situation, which I guess, in a way it was.
The patter of little stocking-covered feet reached my ears, but I couldn’t look away from O’Shea.
“Pamela, stay out of the way,” I yelled.
“I can help,” she said, and O’Shea was lifted into the air, caught in a spell that Milly should have been able to do blindfolded.
I lowered my blades and took in a deep breath, finally looking over at Pamela, “You okay for a second?”