Labyrinth (26 page)

Margot shoved away from him. “You’re right, you don’t belong here, and you don’t belong with me.”

He pulled her close again and traced a finger down her cheek, gently over a sensitive area where she imagined an ugly bruise discolored the skin.

“I will not forget you,” he said.

Her heart broke, but she forced an even breath. “Your brother stays here. Take him with you, and you’ll be right back where you started. Too bad we can’t put him back in that picture. Wait a minute. How did he get out? I was with you, not him.”

“Had you held yourself back from me, he wouldn’t have been able to leave.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Had I not given myself to you, you would still be in there. But it still doesn’t make sense. He was here when I got out.”

“I told you, I was never meant to return.”

“All spells have an antidote. You just didn’t know you could get out. But that’s still not right. If I freed you, why didn’t you get out with me?
Why him?”
She snapped her fingers. “He was supposed to be freed by murdering his willing victims while he fucked them, but that wasn’t the case with you. His evil manifested through the murdering of his lovers. You don’t have any evil to channel.”

A quiver rippled through her stomach. How much of the
mumbo jumbo
that she'd grown up with was real? How was she going to deal with this once she got back to
Wilkinson
County
? She would never look at Etta Mae the same way again.

“All this time, I could have been free,” he murmured.

Margot stared. “You’re telling me you never tried to get out, you never…”

“I could not.”

“Of course not,” she said. “If you had been willing to murder in order to free yourself, I couldn’t have given myself to you. Don’t you see? I was able to free you because you weren’t willing to murder in order to save yourself.”

Sweet Christ, Heaven and Hell may not exist, but good and evil did and each had its own reward—and price.

Logan
turned and Margot realized he meant to get Colin. She grasped his arm and pulled him to her. She pressed close and brought his face down to hers. Their eyes locked for an instant,
then
he covered her lips with his. She closed her eyes and drank in the warmth of his mouth. He flicked his tongue against her lips and she opened for him. He swept inside, sparring, tasting…memorizing. She wouldn’t forget him, his taste, his scent, his body.

His arms tightened around her. He broke the kiss and buried his face in her hair. “
Kylyrra
, I must go.”

"What does that mean, Kylyrra?"

He smiled.
"Charmed one."

Her throat tightened. How charmed could she be if she had to let this man go?
And what about McNeil?
How was she supposed to choose in a moment's time?

Footsteps in the hallway jerked their gazes onto the door.

“Sir, you can’t just barge in,”
came
Dahlia’s voice.

Cat’s assistant
.

McNeil’s voice boomed in the hallway, “I’m going in there, your superior be damned.”

Margot swung her gaze onto the Blackberry lying half inside the fireplace. She’d forgotten she’d called him before—
She
seized
Logan
’s shoulders. “It’s Charlie. He’s been helping me. He…” she broke off. What could she say?

Logan
shook his head. “Never mind, lass.”

They hurried to where Colin lay and
Logan
hauled him over his shoulder. The handle jiggled. Margot’s heart leaped into her throat. Thank God Cat had locked the door.

“Margot,” McNeil called.

She looked at
Logan
. “What about the witch who put you in there? She’s back there waiting for Colin
and
you.”

A glint lit his eyes. “She will expect the
Logan
she knew. I am no' that same man.”

“Margot!”
McNeil shouted.

“You’re still a man,” she said.

“Lass, Colin used Castle Morrison's dungeon to feed his sexual lusts. Let him rot down there
with
her.”

Memory flashed of her chained to the dungeon walls, Colin fucking her. “My God, I saw him there. I—" Her stomach turned.

The door rattled.

Margot seized
Logan
’s hand. “He’ll break the damn door down.
Fucking SAS training.”

Logan
squeezed her fingers. “I will not forget you,
Kylyrra
.”

She forced back tears. “If you get imprisoned back in that picture, I’ll kick your ass.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Come back for me, and I’ll paddle that pretty backside of yours.”

He yanked her close, kissed her hard,
then
faced the picture. Margot backed toward the door. Her heart thumped. Incense still curled up in a single, thin ribbon from the brass bowl on the mantle. Something was wrong.
The incense.
Cat had used it to imprison her in the picture—just as she had imprisoned
Logan
there three hundred years ago. He started at a run for the picture. If
Logan
entered the picture with the incense still burning he would be trapped inside again.

“No!” Margot lunged forward.

The picture blurred as if the paint smeared outward.
Logan
didn't slow, but looked in her direction. His body elongated, making contact with the distorted colors. Margot dove for the mantle, expecting to make contact with his hard body. The rush of wind dragged her hair and dress toward the picture as it had earlier. Time slowed, and she felt as if she were propelling through a thick wall of molasses. Pain splintered through her. She glimpsed
Logan
, still looking over his shoulder at her an instant before he disappeared into the painting, and she shoved the brass incense bowl from the mantle.

Margot hit the carpet, the bowl striking the stone wall with a clatter in unison with the whoosh of wind that snapped back into the picture with an audible crack. Ash fluttered down like powder fine snowflakes. She blinked against flakes that caught on her eyelashes and wrinkled her nose at the sickening sweet scent.

She jumped at the sudden crash of the door. The wood banged against stone, and Charlie burst into the room. His gaze landed on her and he rushed forward.

“Ms. Bowers,” Dahlia cried.

Margot pushed into a sitting position as Charlie dropped onto one knee and pulled her up and into a bear hug.

He drew back. “Dammit, Margot, why didn’t you open the door?” He swiped at ash that caught on his nose. “What is this?”

“The reason I didn’t answer the door,” she said.

He dabbed at ash on the carpet beside them, sniffed it,
then
looked at her. “What is it?”

“I don’t know exactly, some sort of herbal drug.”

He touched the cheek
Logan
had caressed. “You've got a nasty bruise."

Margot touched the spot and winced at the sensitive flesh.

"Are you all right?” he demanded.

“I'll live."

He grasped her wounded hand and frowned. She hadn't realized the makeshift bandage had fallen off in the fight.

His mouth thinned. "That's a bad cut. Did Miss Bowers attack you?"

"Yes," Margot said. He scowled, and she added, "I guess you figured out what was going on when I called.”

“When you didn’t answer, I had the location tracked.”

“
Scotland
Yard again?”

He shook his head. “John. He’ll be here presently. I was closer.” He nodded toward Cat. Dahlia knelt beside her, lightly tapping her cheek. “What happened?” he asked.

“I kicked her ass.”

His brow lifted.

“It’s a long story.” And one she’d have to get straight before telling the version she would repeat for the Northern Constabulary.

“Maybe we can get her for attempted murder,” McNeil said. “That would keep her out of circulation until we find hard proof she was involved in Ms. Cullen’s death.”

Margot stilled. She slipped a hand into the pocket she'd dropped the locket into and felt the cool metal of the chain and locket. “Charlie, did Bree Cullen know a guy name Patty?”

His eyes narrowed. “You weren’t supposed to conduct your own investigation.”

She shook her head. “I only did an internet search for any articles reporting her disappearance. Was he her boyfriend?”

“Yes. Now why don’t you tell me who you’ve been talking with?”

Margot recalled Bree Cullen's rotting corpse. Her stomach clenched. “A ghost,” she murmured. The black teddy, pink slippers and…

“What?” Charlie demanded.

She met his gaze. “If you search the castle, you’ll find the locket Bree Cullen was wearing that night.”

His expression hardened. “Goddamit, Margot, John will jail you for disobeying his instructions—and I'll turn the key myself. How do you know about Patty?”

Margot looked at Cat. As if on queue, her eyes fluttered open, and their gazes met.

“Cat told me.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Margot glanced at the ferry that waited at the Stornoway dock,
then
looked back at McNeil.

He nodded toward the ferry. “You’re sure?”

She gave a small laugh. “No, but I’ve got to sort things out.”

Pain flickered in his eyes, but she didn’t have the slightest idea what to do about it. In the old days, she would have cast caution to the wind and dragged him into bed. She wanted like hell to do just that, but meant what she said; she had to get what happened straight, had to settle what kept the quiver in her stomach alive.

"I'll be back, Charlie."

He studied her. "If you don’t, I'll come for you. I still want to know how you knew we would find that locket in Ms. Bowers' secret room."

"I told you."

He nodded. "I know; she told you
.
But I find it interesting she would confess to having that locket. It makes no sense. Just as it makes no sense they found no prints on it.”