“Sacre bleu, Juliet, you must do something.”
Juliet shook her head in sharp self-disgust, turning her rattled attention to the box she held in her hands.
She made no effort to destroy the actual tiglia. Such magic was beyond her skill. She doubted there was a witch in all of England who could perform such a spell. Instead she studied the tentacles that floated toward the Jinn like the strands of a web.
They were magical, but they did not draw their strength from the box or the demon. Instead she could feel the steady pull from their surroundings. The air. The earth. The water of the nearby river.
It was no wonder the Jinn could control lightning and earthquakes.
He was a creature of nature.
“Little one, you must hurry,” Victor rasped, the chill of his power making her shiver.
“Do you think I am not trying?” she gritted, keeping her attention on the tentacles as she summoned her mother’s magic.
She did not bother with a circle. She was not attempting to cast a spell, but rather to destroy an existing power. Ironically, it was a task that was easier for a half-breed than a full witch.
Needing a tangible means to focus her vision, she jerked off her loose shirt and wrapped it around the box, at the same time imagining she was smothering the tentacles. If they could not draw on the powers around them, they would die. And with them, hopefully the connection to the Jinn.
In the distance she could hear the sound of the vicious battle, smell the fresh blood spilling around her, feel the promise of death in the air, but she refused to be distracted. Not even when the Jinn’s roar of agony sent a shower of stones falling on her head.
The end was close.
She could feel it.
Trembling from the effort of holding her vision in place, Juliet fell to her knees, her stomach heaving at the scent of burning flesh that suddenly filled the tunnel.
She had to persevere…she had to…
“Juliet.”
Wearily lifting her head, she watched as Victor lunged toward her, abruptly covering her with his much heavier body. It was not until the ceiling collapsed, however, that she realized the Jinn was now no more than a smoking pile of charred flesh and they were about to be buried alive.
Not precisely the honeymoon she had been hoping for.
One week later
Seated at the small table he had situated before the fire in his lair, Victor sipped his aged brandy and watched Juliet absently nibble a piece of marzipan candy.
A frown touched his brow. She looked delectable, of course. Wearing an emerald satin nightgown that perfectly matched her eyes, and her fiery curls left loose to spill over her shoulders, she was the perfect image of Eve.
Feminine temptation at its very best.
But it was her obvious lack of hunger that caused a familiar stab of alarm to clench his heart.
“Shall I have the chef replaced, my love?” he demanded, his tone revealing he would happily go in search of a superior chef without hesitation.
“Good lord, no. This food is heavenly.” Juliet dropped the candy on the tray as she regarded him with astonishment. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
He waved a hand toward the table that was laden with lobster in butter, braised ham, creamed potatoes, steamed asparagus, and fresh pears from the hothouse.
“You have not eaten more than a few bites.”
She gave a choked laugh. “Because I am still stuffed from the enormous meal you served when I first awoke. Are you attempting to fatten me like a Christmas goose?”
“You need food to regain your strength.”
Leaning forward, she offered a slow, wicked smile that sent a predictable flare of hunger blazing through him. Juliet had only to be near for him to be hard and aching to be buried deep inside her heat.