Midnight End

24

I tore off in the direction of the tracks, my blood rocketing through my veins, my mind consumed with the hunt. I hadn’t run far when a pained cry reached my ears. Grounding to a halt, I peered through a smattering of trees and edged toward the sound. Almost one hundred yards ahead, Morgan was held captive by two enormous creatures that appeared to be Spriggans. Each of her arms was pulled wide by one of the beasts, and her head hung low in defeat as one of her captors lifted his hand back in what would doubtless be a devastating blow. Without a second thought, I transported myself directly behind the creature. Leaping onto its back, I used the knife to slit its throat from ear-toear. Thick blue blood arced out from the gaping wound, spraying Morgan and the other creature. The Spriggans both released her in their surprise, and she fell to the ground, scuttling away from the scene. Unable to assess her condition, I leapt off the bleeding Spriggan and lunged for its partner. It hissed and swiped at me with its filthy black claws, stepping back in a defensive posture. We squared off, circling each other aggressively. Having no need to continue the fight any longer than necessary, I transported myself directly behind him with the expectation of disabling him as I had done his friend. The creature must have anticipated my move because as soon as I appeared, he whipped around and clenched my throat in his gnarled fingers. Using skills I hadn’t known I possessed, I dropped my body and spun backward to twist the Spriggan’s arm. With his arm bent awkwardly, I slammed my arm down on his elbow with brutal force, causing him to roar in pain and release his grip on my neck. Not pausing a second, I took his hand and twisted it behind his back, then kicked the back of his legs to bring him falling to his knees. Once he was reduced to my height, I slashed his throat as I had done to his brethren. With a gurgle of surprise, he clenched his hand over the spurting wound and hit the ground like a fallen tree. For several breathless seconds, I stood towering over the creature in the eerie silence of the forest. As if aware danger was about, nothing but the wind dared make a sound. The adrenaline began to ebb in my system, and I took a deep, cleansing breath as I scanned the area for Morgan. She was nowhere in sight. Unease cooled my heated blood as I began to walk in the direction where I had seen her flee when I freed her from the Spriggans’ hold. “Morgan? Where are you?” Just when I started to wonder if she had continued to run from me, I caught sight of white-blonde hair poking out from around a tree. As I rounded closer, Morgan’s huddled form came into full view. She sat with her back against the tree trunk, knees held tightly to her chest, cheeks wet from a barrage of tears. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, face battered and bloody. The image of her made me wish I could kill those bastards again—this time, drawing out every possible second of pain until the end. I clenched my jaw, tempering down my fury, and lifted Morgan into my arms. “I’ve got you,” I murmured into her blond waves. Walking to a nearby log, I sat down and held her close—both to comfort her and to reassure me she was alive. A part of me had still been furious at her for foolishly running off, but that evaporated at seeing her so broken. Morgan was the embodiment of female strength and power. She was confident, capable, and more courageous than was wise. I doubted she had allowed herself many opportunities of weakness, let alone permitted anyone else to witness that fragility. This moment in the woods was costing her dearly. “Why did you run from me?” I asked in a gentle rumble. “You’re working with Merlin. You want to keep me caged. As soon as this is over, and you get your memories, you’ll put me right back in that house and lock me away.” Her voice was so small, I ached to assure her she was wrong, but I couldn’t. She was absolutely right. I had every intention of taking her back to Merlin when this was all done. “Merlin won’t keep you there forever,” I offered as a weak consolation. “It’s not forever I’m worried about.” She brought her hand up to trace her fingers along the edge of my shirt sleeve. “There are things I have to do, places I have to go.” She pulled her head back to peer up at me hesitantly. “I need the cauldron for a reason. There are reasons for everything I’ve done.” What was she trying to tell me? From the day I met her, she hadn’t explained, refuted, nor apologized for anything she had done in the past. She had seemed more than happy for me to believe her as evil and ruthless as her image portrayed. Was she now claiming there was more to her plight? “I don’t suppose you’re going to explain that any further.” I arched a brow at her, but of course, it did no good. She sucked on her lips, her brows arched up apologetically. “I wish I could, but I can’t.” I nodded once, my eyes scanning the area for answers. “Here’s what I propose. We have no idea how long this journey will last, and I can’t keep worrying every five minutes that you’re about to make a run for it. You’re not safe out here unprotected. If you’ll promise to stop running, I’ll do my best to present your case to Merlin after we obtain the cauldron. I can’t guarantee he’ll release you, but maybe together we can find some middle ground.” She thought for a moment, then nodded, wiggling to sit upright but still on my lap—a fact which pleased me more than it should have. “After we get the cauldron, there’s someplace I have to go. You can … come with me, but you have to promise me you won’t stop me from going. I don’t need to run if you’ll grant me that one thing. I’m painfully aware of just how powerless I am. I have no desire to get myself killed before I ever reach the cauldron.” Her eyes dropped to her fingers in her lap. “I’ve never felt so helpless in my life, except maybe when Mab attacked my mother.” She glanced back up at me, and this time, I could see a hint of a sharp edge restored to her gaze. “I hate it. I hate being powerless.” I pulled her close and pressed my lips to her forehead. “I know” was all I could offer her. What I didn’t say was I hated it for her as well. Nothing I had been led to believe was accurate when it came to Morgan. Instead of being relieved she was helpless, I felt dirty, as if I had helped to clip the wings of a majestic bird. A few days in her presence by no means undid her past track record, but I couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to her. My animal instincts about people had been well-honed over the years, and my gut told me there was more to the beautiful blond in my lap than the rumors would have me believe.