Free Legacy & Spellbound by Nancy Holder Page B

and he would exploit her magical energies, use them for his own evil purposes … and there would be nothing she could do to stop him. It was the worst violation she could imagine.
    I blew it. I should never have left the coven.
    In anger, she tossed another bolt at the door.
    To her shock, the section of wood adjacent to the jamb splintered from the doorknob to the top.
    She gaped at it openmouthed, unable to believe it. Racing to it, she pushed on the weakened section, hearing a sharp crack as it continued to split. Her heart caught; she glanced around guiltily, listening for footsteps in case someone realized what she’daccomplished, then shot another bolt against the wood.
    This time the section detached sufficiently for her to push her hand through and unlock the door on the other side. She scraped her hand on the rough wood, but she would have been willing to push her way through a broken window if it meant getting out.
    Easing the door open, she peered into the hallway. There was no one there, but that didn’t mean it was unguarded. For all she knew, she had already triggered an alarm and James’s family’s henchmen were on their way here to subdue her.
    She took a step into the corridor, which was papered in black and red, and then another. She shook her head, amazed that she had gotten this far. She ticked her gaze over her shoulder, anxiously scanning for movement.
    And then she ran like hell.
    She had no idea where she was going, and she told herself she should slow down and figure out a plan. But how? What plan? She didn’t know anything about this place except that it was home to the greatest evil force in Coventry, the Supreme Coven. That people died here.
    That I might die here.
    And so she ran.
    * * *
    Seated on the throne of skulls, Sir William cocked his head as Matthew Monroe, one of his principal lieutenants, walked into the room.
    The redheaded Monroe looked bemused and said, “This is what we have so far. Someone managed to trip the alarms at the guard post in north London, but nothing happened.” He shrugged. “As far as we can determine, no demons or imps were dispatched. There was no engagement, and everything seems quiet now.”
    Sir William shook his head. “It’s not right. The only way our alarms activate is when an identifiable threat triggers them. That means a witch.”
    Monroe nodded. “That’s true, Sir William.”
    â€œAnd yet, nothing happened.”
    â€œAlso true.” Monroe crossed his arms over his chest. “But I don’t think it was a glitch. I think someone tripped the alarm, and then used magic to reset it before anything happened.”
    â€œThat’s the most logical explanation. But it is, of course, very troubling.”
    â€œVery, sir,” Monroe agreed.
    Sir William narrowed his eyes. Slowly, his human form melted away, revealing his demonic appearance. He was proud of it. His ancestors had worked long and hard to become elite members of the damned—the first had been Sir Richard, governor of Botany Bay. SirRichard’s explorations into the Nightmare Dreamtime were legendary, and Sir William was justly proud of him.
    Monroe blinked fiercely, but stood his ground, one of the few who had seen the transformation often enough not to run screaming in fear. His fearlessness was one of his more admirable traits, and one of his more dangerous. Still, Sir William trusted him as he trusted few others.
    His voice rumbled in his chest as he said, “Have we located the Cathers witch?”
    Monroe hesitated. “We’re fairly certain she’s in London. The Deveraux falcons have sensed her, but they can’t seem to locate her.”
    With his large clawed hand, Sir William made a fist and pounded the armrest of his throne. “Damn the Mother Coven and their wards and cloaks! If they’d stop hiding, come out and fight …” He huffed. “I don’t understand how the