air, whipped around by the unholy force upon his leg, the light of the moon a blur before he hit the hard earth. A knee crushed into his elbow. He wrenched to the side, and another knee followed, trapping him in the dirt. He roared, bucking up, but the body sitting upon him pinned him down as easily as if he were a child.
“You’re quick. But not as quick as I.”
Like lightning, the hand struck, catching Archer across the left temple. Brilliant white exploded before his eyes and then the faint outline of a black mask appeared, hovering above him. From far off came the sound of wood splintering and horses squealing. Archer’s heart stopped, terror strangling him. Miri. A roar died in his throat as a cold length of steel pressed against his jugular.
“Want to save her, do you?” Again the laugh. Softer this time. The edge of the knife pricked Archer’s skin. “I have all the time in the world. You, unfortunately, do not.” The masked face above his tilted, catching the blue rays of moonlight gleaming down. “We have played enough games. Time to decide.”
The knife snagged over his cravat and down his thin linen shirt, burning a trail to his heart. Sweat tickled his brow as the needle-sharp point stopped at the place where his heart thumped against his chest. “Your heart or hers.” The eyes behind the mask flashed. “If hers is still beating after tonight, that is.”
Archer’s fingers twitched, his heels digging uselessly into the earth. Crushed beneath the coach? Despite the knife, he bucked again, felt the sting on his chest. The knees upon his arms pushed down harder. Red rage blinded him. “Do it, then.” His teeth ground into each other. “Take mine, and let us end this now.”
Laughter rang out. “So you’d rather die than save her?”
He blanched and the laughter turned chilling. “I didn’t think you would. And let me assure you, if you deny me, I will cut her into very small pieces when you are gone.”
Suddenly the knife was gone. Icy breath touched Archer’s nose as the masked face drew near. “The new moon and the winter solstice occur on the same night this year. Four days from now. Change under such powerful forces will make that romantic heart of yours incalculably strong. So I’ll grant you a reprieve.” Teeth flashed in the night. “To show how caring I can be, I give you until then. If you do not comply…”—a hand lashed out, smacking Archer lightly, highlighting his feebleness—“not only will I cut out her heart and eyes, I will keep her alive as I do it.”
Archer thrust his head forward, ready to smash the vile thing’s nose in, doing whatever it took to kill it. He met with air, lurched up into nothingness. Laughter echoed in the void, and then he was alone, sitting like a child on the dark road.
Chapter Twenty-four
Darkness. Quiet. Miranda reveled in it for a moment, breathing hard, holding the earth as though an anchor. Dirt crumbled beneath her fingers, and dead winter grass prickled her nose. She sneezed and the back of her head slammed into something hard. The carriage was on top of her, she realized with a start of terror. She flopped about, desperate to be free of her prison. It would not budge. Her chest squeezed painfully, her throat closing. Breathe! She took a slow breath, and another.
Tentatively, she wriggled her toes, fingers… all working. Everything ached, but there were no sharp pains that she could detect. Other than the horrible pounding in her head and a slight throbbing on her elbows and knees, she felt perfectly fine.
She had room, not much of it, but enough. No sound of horses. Which was all fine save there was no one around for miles, and she was assuredly out of sight of the main road. The image of bugs and vermin crawling in to taste her flesh loomed high in her mind, and she started violently. Then the ominous sound of strained timber creaked overhead. She froze, the pounding of her heart filling her ears, when another sound broke through the muffled silence of her tomb—a man shouting. She pressed an ear toward the carriage body. Another desperate roar of terror, the sound of which went straight to her core.
“Miranda!”
“Archer,” she whispered, tears blurring her eyes. A whimpering sob broke from her lips. He’d come. He was alive.
“Miranda!” His shout was clearer now. He was by the carriage, obviously looking