Page 87 of A Thief to Die For

‘Get over here!’ Coatl’s large hand grabs my throat and squeezes, cutting off my airway.

He really meant to kill Lucky, and now he’s going to kill me. I grit my teeth as I fight to pry open his long fingers. But pain tears through me, splitting me in half. I’m weak. I slam him with an elbow. Try to reach his knife. Nothing makes him budge. My lungs scream for oxygen; time is running out. With every last bit of fight in me, I resort to dragging my fingernails across his face. He roars, but his bulging eyes remain fixed on me. Blood beads in his cuts as darkness gathers in my vision.

Then suddenly he lets go to strike me hard in the temple. My knees hit the ground as everything goes black.

‘Daleridge Cottage is a private residence my father had built,’ Agatha explains. ‘One of his mistresses requested it because his main residence has so many … eerie magical relics. But then she betrayed him, and he had her exiled. Anyway, he never uses it now.’

I stare ahead as we walk.

Agatha climbs the stairs to the front door of the small log cabin and leads the way inside. The four guardsmen escorting us stop.

Leave so I can chase after Marian and beg her to forgive me.

My head drops, and I take a tight breath. Why? So I can break her heart one more time? There’s no undoing this marriage. Marian was right – I need to keep my distance.

The thought nearly brings me to my knees.

‘Enjoy your honeymoon,’ Diggs calls, then laughs. ‘We’ll be right outside.’

Tension ripples through me, along with the need to prove that they can’t keep me locked up. I’m not a prisoner.

My gaze lifts to Agatha as she spins, taking in the place.

Or maybe I am.

‘Isn’t this place beautiful?’

I lock the door, then pull the curtains. The room immediately dims.

‘I’ll light some candles,’ Agatha suggests. ‘I’d give you a tour, but this is it.’ She waves a hand. ‘One giant room with a bathing chamber in the back. Oh, and a tiny kitchen in the corner.’

A single flame lights as she sets to work, and I reluctantly take in the massive bed. Across from it are a small table and chairs, as well as an oversized chair for lounging.

I rub my face, a bone-deep exhaustion taking over. ‘Agatha, we need to talk.’

There’s a stone fireplace that crawls up the wall, and she begins lighting the coal inside the hearth. ‘Okay.’

My mouth opens, but I don’t know what to say. Or maybe I do, I just don’t want to say it. Saying it makes it real.

The fire is lit before I can get anything out. She claps the coal dust off her hands, then frowns at them. ‘Actually, do you mind if I quickly clean up in the bathing chamber?’

I nod, relieved to have a minute. ‘Go ahead.’

As she disappears, I sit on one of the chairs at the small table. My head falls into my hands, and Marian’s devastated face flashes in my mind. It feels like I’ve been kicked in the gut.

Avoid me at all costs. Goodbye, Ryland.

That’s the last thing I want. Agitation crawls over me until I swear I’m being boiled alive in it. Needing to move, I jump to my feet. But my heart just pounds harder, like it’s trying to escape my body. My hands shake with frustration and before I know it, I have the chair in my hands and I’m smashing it on the floor.

A small whimper pulls me out of it. I turn and find Agatha standing there.

Then I notice what she’s wearing – very little, and the very little is made of silk. A short housecoat hangs open. What is she doing? I jerk my gaze to the wall and try to find the words. Any words. ‘I-I’m … sorry. For scaring you.’ I swallow hard. ‘That wasn’t my intent.’

I look at the pieces of chair around me. What am I doing? This isn’t me.

‘You’re upset,’ she says softly. Slowly, she pads towards me. ‘My father tricked you.’

‘Yes, he did,’ I say bitterly.