Page 45 of Summoner of Sins

Her hands clasped over her heart. She understood now. Facing the truth would be to understand that the situation was near hopeless. Still, it was a girl’s mistake. Blindly trusting…

A creaking noise on the far side of the room caught her attention. She turned and gasped in a breath when she saw her “uncle” standing in the late afternoon sunlight.

“Sophie,” he said with a sneer. “Good to see you looking so well.”

Automatically, she reached for the poker, lifting it in her hand and holding it out. “You’re trespassing on a duke’s property.”

With long strides, he crossed the room even as she let out a scream. She could only hope someone was close enough to hear. He reached her, knocking the poker from her hand, and then grabbed her by the back of the neck, covering her mouth with the other. She tried to fight, but he crushed her cheek to his, subduing her in an instant.

“What happened to the obedient girl who lived in my house for a year?”

She didn’t answer, she couldn’t. His hand was over her mouth. She’d like to point out that it wasn’t his house and never had been. For all she knew, it was hers, being the closest kin. He’d kept her a prisoner there, locking her in a room and keeping her quiet by meeting her most basic needs as she allowed him to prepare her for slaughter.

He pulled her toward the open patio door. She had no idea why he wished to take her or what he hoped to gain, but she knew she could not leave this house. Sophie fought as she’d never fought in her life before. With nails and teeth, she tugged and pulled and bit and scratched.

He let go of her mouth to bring his hand down across her cheek. Pain exploded through her skull as stars appeared behind her eyes.

He snarled as he shook her. “Behave, you little bitch, or I’ll have to knock you out.”

“Why are you doing this?” she cried as he dragged her again. She was losing her strength even as she tried to fight.

“Because I’m getting my money’s worth out of you one way or the other. You’ve ruined everything and now you’re going to pay.”

They were almost to the door. Sophie cried out, pulling hard again, stumbled, and fell so that he was dragging her to the exit.

That was when the doors to the library burst open. Max paused for a single second, his large frame filling the double doors, a snarl pulling at his lips. A cry of relief fell from her lips before he barreled toward them, hands balled into two fists of rage.

Her uncle dropped her, taking a large step back even as he grabbed a sword from his belt. He swung at Max, slicing through his clothes, blood appearing on his shirt. Sophie cried out, but Max did not seem to notice as he charged in again, grabbing the man’s wrist and squeezing until he dropped the weapon, bones cracking under Max’s grip.

Ironheart rushed in, grabbed Sophie, and pulled her from the fray. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, pushing her face into his coat. “It’s better.”

Sophie did as he commanded. Not just out of blind trust, but because she knew he was right. Max grabbed the other man by the scruff of the neck, dragging him back out of the library. “You’re going back to the tower, and this time, you’re staying there.”

Sophie opened her eyes again and Max’s gaze met hers. “I’m sorry, my love.”

She shook her head. What was he sorry for? Saving her? Protecting her? “Go,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

Max gave a terse nod, dragging the other man out the door.

“Is he really taking him to prison?” she asked Ironheart, who was still holding her.

He was quiet for a moment. “Whatever he’s doing, you can be assured you are never meeting your uncle again. Max will keep you safe.”

It was true.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was after midnight before Max finally returned to Ironheart’s. It was no longer his wedding day. As much as it had been productive, he’d wanted to spend it with his bride.

First, the queen had required a detailed accounting of all that he and Ironheart knew. This was tricky considering that they had a club no one knew existed. Ironheart had glossed over that detail as only he could. A “private gaming society” was what he’d called it. The fact that Whitehouse’s son had been a member seemed to satisfy the queen's curiosity as to why they’d been targeted. She’d listened to all of it and then thanked them for their contributions. Max supposed it wasn’t every day that a third son stopped a plot to overthrow the crown.

Her recompense had left him reeling. She’d bequeathed him a barony in the north of England. It came with a small manor and enough assets to support it. Today, Sophie had become a baroness. He’d come home to tell her that he’d be able to provide the life she truly deserved when he’d found that imposter with his hands on his wife. Even now, Max’s fists clenched with rage at the sight of Sophie being dragged across the floor. He’d barely kept himself from tearing that man limb from limb.

Instead, he’d brought the imposter to the New Police and delivered him into custody. He’d insisted that a barrister for the crown be brought in to hear his testimony and had mentioned that he’d been awarded a barony from the queen herself hours earlier. He’d stay in London long enough to make certain that the man was hanged. He’d not risk him ever being free again.

Now, he walked through Ironheart’s home, the darkness and quiet helped him relax.

“My lord,” Ironheart called from the top of the stairs.

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