“Take this.” He slipped a long dagger into her hand, hoping to hell she wouldn’t have to use it.
She followed him as he stepped a few feet forward so that he would have an unobstructed shot into the clearing.
He could hear the snapping of twigs and rustling leaves as the harpy caught sight of Diana and moved toward her. His heart stuttered when the harpy grabbed hold of her, then pushed her ahead of it into the clearing. Cadan fought the urge to shoot it in the head.
He gripped the bow tighter, nearly splitting the wood before he could get himself under control. Everything is fine.
But it wasn’t. Not inside his chest. It was a battle just to keep his instincts from rising to the fore. He could shoot the demon, shoot Paulinus, and then he could get Diana out of here safely.
Nay. Only she could kill Paulinus, and it had to be her way. She’d never forgive him otherwise.
She struggled as the harpy pushed her into the clearing, putting on a good show. Paulinus looked up as the demon came to a halt twenty feet from them.
“Well, well, Ignobel, what have you here?” His voice was excited, slightly crazed, and Cadan hated the fact that he couldn’t see his expression. He could see Diana’s, though, and hers had calmed considerably.
“It is I, Paulinus.” Her voice was strong and sure. “Boudica.”
But it wasn’t Boudica. He could see Diana shining through her eyes. But Paulinus couldn’t tell that she was playing on his anger, and it was likely he didn’t care.
“Yes,” he hissed, “I’ve been waiting for you. It’s about time they caught you. Thought you could come to me on your own terms? Didn’t work so well the last time, did it?” He snapped closed the book that he had been holding and stalked around the altar toward Diana and the harpy holding her.
Cadan’s muscles tensed with the restraint it took not to throw the bow aside and charge him.
Not just to protect Boudica, but to avenge his family. It had been two thousand years since he’d looked upon the man who had ordered the destruction of his village that had resulted in their deaths. This man had changed the course of his life, both for ill and for good.
He couldn’t go back and save their lives, he couldn’t rationalize their deaths as being for a greater cause, but the disastrous results of the Roman incursion into Britain had led him to Boudica.
And in the end, even more important, to Diana.
Chapter 38
Diana stared across the clearing at the man her subconscious recognized as the ultimate evil. She could barely feel the harpy gripping her arms behind her. She knew that Cadan was behind the line of trees waiting for her signal.
It was working. As long as she could keep her rage in check, she might get everything she’d come for. Maybe even her life.
But it was hard. Boudica’s rage scrabbled for the surface. Diana focused on her breathing and her plan. She couldn’t fail.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Paulinus. And it won’t work.” Her voice carried clearly through the forest. Oh, she was pretty damn sure his plan would actually work, but everything depended upon her convincing him otherwise. She wanted him bragging, boasting, while he thought that she was helpless; details were the difference between success and failure. “You want to sacrifice me.” She jerked her chin toward the altar.
“Indeed. Put her on the altar,” he said to the harpy. “I’ve waited long enough.”
“Why?” She struggled against the harpy that dragged her to the altar. She’d wanted to get Paulinus talking more. This was happening too fast. She jabbed an elbow at the harpy, but it only grunted. “Why did you wait so long? You’ve waited here nearly two thousand years.”
The harpy wrestled her up the stone stairs to the altar. She dropped to her knees, hoping the harpy would let go, and winced as the stone bit into them. It didn’t let go, just dragged her up. God, this was going too fast, she was almost at the top. Don’t shoot, Cadan. She craned her neck around to watch Paulinus.
“Because of you, you stupid bitch!” His eyes flared, the light of rage glowing within them. “We needed the ultimate sacrifice—that of the one complicit in our deaths—to escape.”
Bingo. “Our deaths?” She emphasized the plural. “I assume you mean your son? But only one can escape through the sacrifice of another. The universe wants equality that way.”
“Indeed,” he seethed.
“What kind of coward would leave his son behind?”
He was on her in an instant, backhanding her as the harpy dropped her arms. She flew back from the blow and collapsed against the stairs. Pain exploded in her head, rage flaring quickly on its heels. She fought it as she tasted the blood welling in her mouth. Don’t shoot, Cadan. Please, please not yet.