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tight and pressed her face against Wendy's shoulder. "I thought I was going to die," she
murmured.
"Shhh." Wendy stroked her hair. "It's okay now. No one's going to hurt you."
"Who are these people? What do they want from us?"
"Just money. I'm going to give them what they want, and then it'll all be over." She
hugged Julie, hard. A tear slid down her cheek, into Julie's messy brown hair. A bitter
knot of shame burned in her chest. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"I hate to break up this touching reunion," said Drizell, "but I don't have all night."
She snapped her fingers and called, "Nigel!"
A moment later, the butler appeared. "Yes, ma'am?"
"I want you to escort Ms. Julie Martin to the door," said Drizell. "See to it that she
gets a coach."
What about Wendy? Julie asked.
I want her to remain here a little longer, Drizell replied.
Why? Wendy demanded. I ll give you the Tear now, if you want. Then we ll all
leave at once.
"Don't push your luck, Drizell said, or I may change my mind about letting her
go."
Julie looked at Wendy, lips quivering, her face wet with tears. "What's going to
happen now?"
"You're going home."
"But what will happen to you?"
"I'll be fine." Wendy forced a smile. The most important thing was getting Julie out
of here safely, she reminded herself. Once that happened, she could worry about the rest.
The butler approached. "Come with me, Ms. Martin," he said, looking at Julie.
She gave Wendy an uncertain look.
"Go on," said Wendy, holding the fake smile on her face. "It's okay. I'll catch up to
you in no time. Promise."
"Wendy& "
She squeezed Julie s shoulder. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing." Which was a
complete lie, but she wanted Julie out of this place. She could worry about herself later.
Julie bit her lower lip. She cast a frightened glance at Drizell, then followed Nigel
the butler out of the room. Wendy watched her go, then glared at Drizell. "I want your
promise that no harm will come to her."
"Relax," said Drizell. "What reason would I have to harm her? I'm not a sadist, you
know." She extended a hand. "Now, give me the Tear."
Wendy hesitated, then handed Eloria's Tear to Drizell.
Drizell's fingers curled around the Tear, and her eyes widened. Her breathing
quickened, and her breasts heaved, straining against the confines of her dress. "Power,"
she breathed. "Such power. I feel it coursing through my blood, bubbling in my brain. I
can taste it like fine wine." She licked her lips, then pushed Eloria's Tear beneath her
dress, into her cleavage. A small sigh of rapture escaped her parted lips.
Wendy resisted the urge to tell her and the Tear to get a room. "Great," she said.
"You've got what you want. Now let us go."
Drizell's eyes opened, and a smile curved her red lips. "Not so fast."
Wendy tensed as a man stepped into the doorway. He wore a long, black overcoat
and a silver mask. Her breath caught in her throat. She stared at the mask's narrow snout,
its bared teeth and dark eye-holes. The man's breath rasped behind it, wet and heavy.
"Good evening, my dear," said a deep voice. "Told you we'd meet again, didn't I?"
"Jackal," whispered Wendy.
"What is this?" Zander demanded. "What's going on?"
Drizell shrugged. "I promised the Jackal a playmate," she said. "And he gets quite
cranky if he's denied his fun. I released your sister, as you asked. So now I have no
choice but to give him you."
Wendy's teeth ground together. "You bitch."
"Sticks and stones."
The Jackal advanced toward her with the smooth, gliding movements of a predator.
Zander blocked him, sword pointed at his chest. As Wendy backed away, Drizell seized
her arm, manicured talons digging into her skin. Wendy s flesh crawled; she could feel
the strength in that grip, both physical and magical.
The Jackal glared at Zander through the eye-holes of his mask. I d leave now, if I
were you. The girl is mine.
Touch her, and you die, Zander replied.
The Jackal pulled a knife from under his coat. He dropped into a half-crouch,
masked face thrust forward, and growled.
Zander growled back, lunged and swung his sword. The Jackal yelped like a startled
dog and jumped backward. His sword struck the Jackal s knife with a clang, knocking it
out of his hands, and the Jackal raised his hands in surrender as Zander pressed the
sword s tip to his throat. He shot a glare at Drizell. Let Wendy go, or he dies.
Drizell laughed. For a common mercenary, you re not bad.
The Jackal whined softly, hands still in the air. Don t hurt me. I m unarmed.
Wendy wasn t fooled; she knew from personal experience that the Jackal s Gift was
as sharp as his knives. Don t let your guard down, Zander. He Pressure constricted
her throat, cutting off air and voice, and only a choked sound emerged.
Wendy, what s wrong? Zander shouted over his shoulder.
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