Page 42 of Kept to Kill
Quin didn’t answer her, instead speaking to the others as if she wasn’t there. ‘Ours first and then hers. We don’t know if her blood will do the same as her touch.’
He produced a knife and cut his hand, dropping the blood into a goblet. Bastian did the same, not meeting her eyes as he added his. When it was Mal’s turn, he thrust her at Bastian, who turned her around to face them, his arms encircling her waist in more of a lover’s caress than the hold of an enemy.
Quin splashed some wine into the cup from the earthenware jug on the table, swirling it around to combine the ingredients, all the while watching her.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked again, pulling against Bastian ineffectively even as the large man attempted to calm her by hushing her as if she were nothing more an unruly horse. Anger reared up in her and she stamped hard on his toes, broke free and ran for the door.
Mal grabbed her, subdued her, and pushed her back to Bastian in the space of a moment, but his hold on her compared with how he’d manhandled her in the past was gentle – almost as if he didn’t want to hurt her unduly, which she knew couldn’t be so.
Bastian grabbed her again, easily pinning her arms to her sides as she thrashed.
‘I’m not drinking that!’ she shrieked.
Quin stepped closer.
‘Hold her still,’ he ordered, pinching her nose closed with a gloved hand as she wriggled and writhed. Her hair was grabbed in a punishing hold, used to keep her head still. Tears came to her eyes as her scalp smarted and, finally, when she couldn’t leave it any longer, she opened her mouth to take a breath and the liquid was poured down her throat. Her mouth was forced closed so she couldn’t spit it out as she spluttered and screamed, wondering if anyone would come to find out what was happening to her. Someone would have in the last inn, but here, no one cared, she thought as her body went limp.
‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘I put a sleeping draft in the cup with the … rest of it.’
‘You drugged her as well?’
‘I didn’t want her hurting herself for the next bit. It’s just to keep her calm.’
What was the next bit, she wondered dully, unable to conjure up much of anything except tiredness, though she knew in the back of her mind that she should be trying to fight.
‘Do it, then.’
She felt a sting on her finger and jerked in Bastian’s arms.
‘Make certain to get enough for all of us.’
Her finger was squeezed and she yelped. Bastian’s arm tightened around her, holding her up now that her legs had turned to jelly. She watched as Quin added more wine to the cup and took a gulp, handing it to Mal, who did the same. When Bastian had drunk of the cup as well, all three of them looked at each other.
‘Did it work?’
‘Binding her to the unit should make it impossible for her to kill us.’
‘Should?’
Quin approached her, his hand raised, and she realized what he meant to do. She tried, sluggishly, to move away.No!She didn’t want to kill anyone. She didn’t want to kill him, even if he did hate her. She let out a small cry of anguish as his hand settled on her cheek, caressing it, the look in his eyes almost compassionate. Then his expression turned blank, his hand moving to the back of her neck and tightening as he brandished the knife and put it to her throat.
She whimpered, fighting feebly to be free of Bastian as the knife bit into her skin.
‘Enough,’ came Bastian’s quiet growl, which sounded so menacing that Quin looked up at him in surprise as he took the knife away and his touch gentled once more.
‘I had to be certain,’ he said softly. ‘Now we know it worked.’
Lily’s eyes fluttered closed, even as she tried to make sense of what they had just done. She had an odd feeling that it was something important and life-changing. But she couldn’t seem to hold onto any thoughts as she sank into oblivion.
* * *
Lily’s eyesclosed and her body sagged, finally succumbing to the sleeping potion he’d put in the cup. Bastian still held her and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to put her down, which he could understand.
Quin disliked all of this, if he was honest with himself, but it was necessary. Bastian had made him see that, and if he hadn’t drugged her, she would have got herself into such a state that she could have been hurt. She was a slight thing, after all.
Now, as he looked down at her, knowing that her power could no longer hurt him, he wanted to touch her with his bare hands. He imagined running them over her, as he had wanted to for days.
