“Good. Very good,” Kyanna said as Maggie held her hands up, palms out, and concentrated really, really hard. “Now I’m going to have Xander try to push into your space.”
“I’ll do it,” Gideon growled. She tried really hard to ignore him. But just the tenor of his voice spiked hunger and hurt through her system.
And how embarrassing was that? Here she was, presented with the opportunity she’d been praying for since her twenty-first birthday, trying to pay attention to Kyanna, trying to memorize incantations and enchantments, and all she could focus on was the sound of Gideon’s angry voice. And the mind-melting, warm, citrusy scent of him as he paced nearby.
She struggled to remember what Kyanna had told her.
Breathe in. She drew in a soul-deep breath. Breathe out. She released it in a controlled, long exhalation. Focus on the scents around me. The fresh, crisp air, feel it on my skin. Smell the scent of pine nearby. The scent of lilacs, the freshly cut grass. Listen to the sound of the slow moving river. The soft whoosh of breeze through the trees overhead and the rhythmic rustle of leaves. Listen to the birdsong.
She couldn’t do it. Not with Gideon stomping about, snarling like a rabid animal every time Xander or Kyanna tested her shields.
“No, you won’t,” Kyanna said, her tone brooking no argument.
“Yes, I—”
“I said no, Gideon,” Kyanna snapped, clearly at her patience’s end. Truth be told, Maggie wasn’t too far behind her. “Maggie needs training, not coddling. You won’t push her for fear of hurting her. You keep pulling your punches. I understand why, but in the long run, that’s only going to hurt her. Do you think Stolas and his minions will treat her with kid gloves just because you l—” Gideon growled low in his throat, and Kyanna quickly changed whatever it was she’d been about to say. “Because she’s pregnant?”
“You’re hovering,” Maggie accused, her eyes closed tight against what she was sure was a very intimidating glower.
“Get used to it.” Oh, he was furious now. She’d heard him angry before. But his voice held a new quality. A dangerous softness. One that instantly made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Had she finally pushed him too far? Wearily, she squinched one eye open and watched him through the fringe of her lashes.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you or our child, not even by accident,” he promised in that same deadly soft voice.
Xander, of all people, cracked a huge smile. Maggie almost—almost—opened both eyes wide in surprise, catching herself at the last second. Remembering herself, that she was supposed to be concentrating on her shields, she held her pose.
“It’s about time you found something to live for,” Xander remarked.
Now Maggie looked at him, full on, puzzled by that last remark. “What does that mean? You make it sound like he—”
Gideon looked like he wanted to throttle someone. She wasn’t sure which of them he’d like to get his hands on more. Xander, Kyanna or her. Frankly, she didn’t think he’d care either way, as long as someone was bleeding when he was done.
“Gideon?” Frustrated by her inability to focus on the enchantments, she reached over to pick up one of the daggers Gideon had brought outside for combat practice. “What’s he—”
Maggie jolted, sucking a sharp breath in on a hiss as the dagger slipped from her hand. In an instant, everything and everyone around her disappeared. She caught flashes of images, light and sound and smell.
Sulfur filled the air, burning her nostrils. Terrible screams hurt her ears, tearing at her eardrums until they felt like they would bleed. The heat was so intense she staggered back a step, sweat instantly pouring down her body.
She glanced around, spun around taking everything in at once. Rocks and crevices, dry arid land as far as the eye could see. Fire and shadows filled with creatures too horrible to imagine.
“I’ll never submit,” a hoarse woman’s voice cried.
Maggie spun again. There! A large, wrought iron cage perched at the top of a spire of stone. All around the cage, creatures writhed and scrabbled. Hideous beings that clawed at the bars and pawed at the trapped woman.
No…not a woman. An angel.
Her wings—missing large patches of feathers, bloody and filthy—were wrapped protectively around her. Her reddish-colored hair hung in a dingy, matted knot at the base of her skull. Robes that had obviously once been pristine white were torn and bloodied, stained with soot.