Page 83 of Charmed

“Uh-uh, witch.”

Riley nearly died where he stood, torn between needing to go to her and frozen in terror.

Before he could so much as blink, the Minister made a slashing motion. Right across Hope’s throat.

A pained expression crossed her features, eyes wide, tears spilling onto her round pale cheeks, but…

There was no blood. No wound. She just vanished. Like a ghost drifting back into the fog, she disappeared.

Fiona’s shoulders slumped, frenetic grief etched on her features.

And that was it. Riley had enough. He would die before he’d let his uncle hurt Fiona or steal what they’d rightfully earned. What had taken almost three-hundred years to come to pass in order to reclaim love.

A glance at her, at the woman he loved more than anything, and Riley stepped away from the opening for leverage. He sucked in a breath, and launched himself out of the cave. For a harried moment, he free-fell, arms propelling, heart mid-beat, until his feet hit sand. He’d bent his knees to brace for the impact, yet he still wound up on his ass.

Curses muttered from above, and one by one, the others joined him. Only Tristan had stayed on his feet.

Fiona’s eyes rounded in frenetic concern, but it lasted mere seconds, then she refaced the Minister, rocking on her heels in battle stance.

Riley and the others moved closer to the boulders Fi and the Minister stood on in a twisted magical standoff. To do what, who knew. Riley figured he just needed to be ready for anything.

“What have you done?”

Heads turned at the rage-filled voice joining them on the beach.

Mara marched across the sand toward Fiona and the Minister, white hair whipping around her aged face, Irish brogue thick. “What have you done to my Hope?”

The bastard shrugged. “What I had to. She’s back where she belongs. And I have what I need to end you. You’re done.”

“I can’t use fire,” Ceara whispered. “It’ll incinerate the parchment paper in the box with the spell passage.”

“And water will damage it.” Kaida chewed her lip. “I can’t do anything, either.”

Riley could. He could pummel the asshole’s face. He ran toward Fiona.

Except she extracted something from her back pocket and threw it at the Minister’s feet. A plume of white smoke wafted from the broken vial, wrapped around him, and his body contorted into the freakiest, most horrifying version of rigor mortis.

She looked at Mara. “Get the box from him. Hurry, the potion won’t last long. Take the box to safety.”

A nod, and Mara climbed the boulder. She snatched the box from the Minister’s frozen hand, and was assisted back down by Brady.

He ran a few steps with her in the other direction, and cupped her shoulders. “Go. We’ll be right behind you.”

Mara took off, never looking behind her.

Okay, good. Riley let out a breath.

A roar erupted from the Minister.

Riley flinched, turned, and caught a flash of metal in his peripheral. Moonlight created a blinding glare as something crashed into him, knocking him flat on his back with a jarring oomph. Searing hot pain lanced his thigh. Confusion collided with agony as…blood sprayed.

Blood? Yes, blood. Warm and metallic smelling, it squirted from his leg.

The others gaped at him with variations of horrified expressions.

How…strange. He had a wayward drifting thought about finding the Minister. Where was he? Riley didn’t see him.

“Tristan, a little help!” Ah, Fiona.

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