![]() ![]() ![]() But now you will find I have the advantage." "You bested me with your girl's magick last time we met. My arms hung stiffly by my sides, my feet rooted as though tied to a stake. I had to get away from him, yet seemed unable to move. ![]() "You always knew it would come to this, Meg Lytton." His words echoed in my mind. When I looked down again, Marcus Dent was standing in front of me, clothed all in black. It screamed impatiently, tilting its barred body as though hunting for a place to land. Sensing movement above my head, I glanced up. My senses strained for clues as to my whereabouts, catching strange sounds, a rushing noise like wings. Power prickled at my fingertips, tingling with familiar heat. The wide skirt of my gown billowed around my ankles, flapping like a ship's sail. My loose hair whipped about my face, longer than it was now. I was standing in a high place, buffeted by winds and wrapped in a reddish mist that stretched into cloud a few yards ahead. Visit her website or chat with her on Twitter, where she answers to Excerpt. On dark nights she has been known to sneak out onto the moors and howl at the moon. She writes poetry and fiction as her day job, and is addicted to social media. Victoria Lamb lives in a farmhouse on the wild fringes of Bodmin Moor in Cornwall, England, with her husband, five children and an energetic Irish Red Setter. ![]()
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