Page 106 of Caged Kitten

“What do you hope to accomplish here?” Lloyd murmured with a shake of his head, patronizing as hell. “Your lovers are still collared. You would condemn them to a life without magic or access to their inner—”

Rolling my eyes, I drove the Swiss Army knife into his neck—just the tip—and glared down at him as another rush of cold calm fury washed over me. If he thought pinning the blame on me, like he hadn’t concocted this whole batshit scheme just to make a dollar, would somehow soften my hand, Lloyd Guthrie was delusional.

With a hiss and a scowl, Xargi Penitentiary’s warden jabbed his wand straight up. “Exsolvo tutela.”

A jet of white shot out of his wand, straight as an arrow and thick as the floodlights sweeping the prison grounds. It collided with the ward’s domed top, then flared out, skittering like lightning, cracking the magical barrier just as Lloyd’s rage had splintered his office windows only a few hours earlier. As soon as the light touched the ground, it dissolved into a gentle mist, taking with it the ward and the invisibility it projected over the building, over Lloyd’s supernatural abomination.

His work camp.

His death camp.

My vision blurred briefly, relief seeping into the inferno raging inside, and my hold on the knife loosened just enough that Lloyd seemed to think he was allowed to sit—

Purple fire suddenly exploded in the ward’s place, shooting up from the ground, bright and furious. I shrieked at the onslaught, magenta flames circling Xargi, obliterating the guardhouse as it blazed through, reeking of old magic and wanton destruction.

Seconds later, horns—a whole symphony of baying horns from the other side, blasting through the ten-foot-tall ring of fire and threatening to burst an eardrum. I clapped my hands over my ears, same as Lloyd, and braced against the attack.

“What are you doing?” I shouted, replacing my hand with my shoulder so that I could shove the knife back at his neck. Only the threat didn’t seem to hold the same weight anymore; Lloyd sat up fully, eyes wide, the firestorm reflecting in his bewildered greys.

“That…” He shook his head, bloodied and panicked, me still straddling his lap and his half-hard cock, not a lewd comment to be heard. “That is not me.”

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