Page 36 of Hexbound

He did touch her then, capturing her upper arm and feeling the gauzy slip of her sleeve beneath his touch. "This way."

Cleo tripped and stumbled as he hauled her out of the library, toward the door. He didn't stop. A fall wouldn't hurt her. Staying here would.

"Stop it, damn you!" Cleo slapped at his arm, but he wrenched the door open.

Sunlight streamed in, gilding her white dress. That blindfold turned, unerringly, toward his face. Behind her, he could make out the hackney and the driver he'd already paid to take her to safety.

"Go."

"Where?"

"Anywhere. I don't know. Surely you have family?" Sebastian's grip on her arm softened. "Just not here."

With him.

"Bastian." She caught his other hand, and Sebastian hesitated.

"You gave me hope," he told her, his voice roughening, "when I needed it. Thank you."

Then he couldn't stop himself from touching her; just a pair of fingers brushing against her smooth cheek. The only thing that he could ever have of her; a memory to sustain him through the forthcoming torture. The bond flared to life between them and he could sense his own touch against her skin and her astonishment at it. Then something locked hold of her and she gasped, her body jerking as though some puppet master yanked on her strings.

Before he knew what he was doing, he caught her as she slumped against him. The tension suddenly dissolved from her body, leaving her panting.

"Cleo?" he whispered. "Was it a Vision? What did you see?"

Clapping her hands over her blindfold, she shook her head. "No! No, I won't let you suffer through that."

His torture, then. Sebastian clenched his jaw. "Yes, you will. You're the only thing that can ruin me. I want you to leave this house and never look back. Go and live your life, the way you were always intended to do. Be free. Of me. Of this wretched curse I'm stuck in."

"If you think I can just walk away–"

The sound of a jarring clap broke them both apart. The Earl of Tremayne—Cleo's father—sauntered into the hallway. "What dramatics, my dear. Leave the man in peace. My dear son-in-law has the right of it, you know."

"And I'm to believe you're just going to let me walk out of here freely?" Cleo snapped, her voice hardening as she faced her father. "I know you, after all. You've always craved my Visions, my power, and it wouldn't be the first time you've broken your word."

Tremayne's dark eyes locked on his daughter. "You've grown rather rebellious in the past month, Cleo. A young woman should be seen and not heard. Someone ought to remind you of your place. "

"You wouldn't dare," Sebastian murmured darkly.

Tremayne shot him a look of wild hatred, then turned back to his daughter. "Once upon a time you were a powerful tool, Cleo. But it's clear from your actions in the past month that you betrayed me to my enemies. I won't forget that. Ever."

Sebastian stepped between them, a threat in itself. Sorcery whispered through his skin. How much he wanted to simply obliterate this man, and never deal with him again....

But Tremayne was a powerful adversary, and Sebastian knew his sorcery was untrained and erratic. Doubt ate away at some of his strength.

"That's a good decision, boy," Tremayne whispered, satisfaction flavoring his dark eyes. "Step away from her and all will go well."

"You touch one hair on her head, and I'll destroy this entire house, with you in it." The world began to darken as shadows etched at his vision, daring him to do it.

"Sebastian," drawled a familiar voice, and instantly he was on edge. "My dear boy, you do like to bring the house down, don't you?"

The words were poison. "Morgana," he replied icily, turning to face his mother, and—

Freezing in surprise.

His mother had once been a vibrant woman with raven-dark hair and wicked green eyes. She'd stood tall, always adorning herself in the silks she demanded were due to her, but now she was confined to a wheeled chair, pushed by one of the servants. Dark shadows of pain hollowed the skin beneath her eyes, and there was more gray in her hair than there ever had been. But the most startling change were her legs, thin and faded beneath her skirts.

"Come to see your handiwork, my son?" Morgana spat, watching him with bitter eyes. She gestured to her legs. "When you brought the roof down upon me, it crushed my spine. This is entirely your fault. Tremayne and I have much to repay."