Page 27 of A Snowed in Valentine's

Bound and powerless, she was helpless against whatever these humans had in store for her. Unless, of course, she found herself a way out.

She tore her gaze from O’Hara’s red, mustached face and stared at the grimoire. The Book of Nyx sat open, its contents meaningless to everyone but her. Whatever happened, it was probably best to keep the grimoire close to her. It might come in handy.

Could she free herself with it? The thought crossed her mind, and she sat up a little straighter. It didn’t sound like it could work. How could she unbind her magic using the very book that August’s insignia was keeping her from using?

It’s worth a shot,she told herself.Magic doesn’t have to follow logic. It doesn’t have to make sense.

Agent Carter’s lips compressed into a thin line. She rose to her feet, came around to stand next to Daphne, and sat on the table, hands folded in her lap.

“I’ve got two kids,” she said. “Eight and ten years old. Both girls. You know one thing they’ve always told me? That they’d like to get on a plane and fly to the moon.” A flicker of a smile appeared on the woman’s face. “Now, I know that’s impossible, but I do plan on putting my kids on a plane in the future. Maybe a trip to New York or LA during the summer to meet their uncle.

“Now, that won’t be possible if planes keep mysteriously disappearing or crashing because of terrorists. I want my kids to grow up in a safe country, someplace where they look up at the sky to see the sun and not a 747 nosediving toward the Earth. I’m sure if you had kids of your own, you’d feel the same way. Wouldn’t you, Miss Emerson?”

She spoke gently, but Daphne could feel the frustration in her tone. Before she could respond, Carter went on, “Look, I need you to think of all the American lives you’d be saving. If you help us, we might even cut you a deal, a lesser sentence, for starters.”

Daphne’s jaw clenched. “For the last time,” she said, “I’m not a terrorist.”

“Shut the hell up!”

She never saw O’Hara swing his fist. His knuckles connected with the side of her head, and everything went dark.

***

She awoke with a gasp to find August kneeling over her. His face was tight with worry and disbelief. The firelight next to them cast a quivering shadow across the side of his face.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded.

She blinked at him and tried to sit up, wincing slightly. The left side of her face hurt like something hard had slammed into it. Daphne tentatively rubbed her cheek, wincing again as the memories flooded back to her.

“O’Hara,” she muttered.

“What was that?”

“It was O’Hara,” she told him. “One of the feds detaining me. He’s been pretty angry since they arrested me. I think he was waiting for the opportunity to hit me, and I handed one to him.”

A murderous look flashed in August’s coal-black eyes—the same look she’d seen the first day they met, and he’d tried to kill her. Only this time, she got the feeling that his murderous rage was focused on someone else.

“I see.” His large hand cupped her cheek, and she felt the rest of her body go limp. A muscle clenched in his jaw, and he rose to his feet. “I’ll get you something for the injury.”

He headed for one of the tables. Daphne heard bottles clinking together as he worked with his potions. He returned minutes later with a bowl containing a clear liquid. He dipped a small cloth into it and dabbed her cheek.

“This should reduce the pain and quicken the healing process,” he said gently, as though his eyes were not still burning with anger. “You should try to get some rest.”

“I think I’d like to take my time before going back there,” she replied with a chill. Who knew what was going on in the interrogation room now? She didn’t feel any more bruises, which meant Carter must have stopped O’Hara from attacking her while she was unconscious. Still, she’d rather remain here for now, with August caring for her.

Maybe afterward, he would hold her, wrap her in his strong arms…

It dawned on her only a moment later that she was leaning toward his hand, savoring his touch. August stared at her, long and hard. Then he dropped the cloth and cupped her cheek with his large hand. Excitement pulsed through her body at his gentle touch.

“August…” she began.

That was all she managed to get out before he leaned in and covered her mouth with a mind-shattering kiss.

Chapter Eleven

“I’m Sorry”

It seemed as though his world had been swept out from under his feet, sending him tumbling into an abyss of desire and intrigue. He continued to kiss her, only half-surprised at his impulsive action. To his relief, Daphne did not pull away. She welcomed his probing lips, kissing him back with equal fervor, such that he found himself wondering who had really taken the initiative.

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