Chapters (30)
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty One
- Chapter Twenty Two
- Chapter Twenty Three
- Chapter Twenty Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty Six
- Honour Bound
- About the Author
- Other titles by Helen Harper
He didn’t so much as flinch. My words might be tough but I didn’t have a single thing with which to back them up. I tossed back my hair. ‘So get your boss on the blower and tell him to back the hell off. If he does, he’ll get his money. But if it’s not money he’s really after, then tell me what he wants and I might just let you go.’
In a world of ridiculous notions, that was about the silliest thing I could have come up with. I was a third of this guy’s size. But I was banking on the fact that it was so ridiculous, it might actually work. Unfortunately I was wrong.
The huge man wheezed again. He started to move down towards me, one step then another. I ignored the tremble in my knees and held my ground. It was all I had. If I ever got out of this, though, I was going to wring Taylor’s neck.
The reek of cloves got stronger. I peered at his face but it was still shadowed. I lifted up the corner of my mouth in a rueful smile. ‘You’re going to be sorry if you come any closer,’ I told him.
I’d barely finished my sentence when he reached out with one huge hand and grabbed the front of my T-shirt, hauling me off my feet. Quashing my terror, I began to mumble incoherent nonsense. I screwed my eyes shut. ‘Qaleghqa'mo' jIQuch! LwlIj jachjaj’ I ignored my legs dangling helplessly in the air and waved my arms around as if I were about to cast a spell. Then I opened one eye and peeked.
His face was still shrouded in darkness but I could make out the scar that Taylor had mentioned. It was clearly an old wound but it was an angry red colour, cutting a jagged line from one side of his face to the other. His nose was large and bulbous but his eyes were nothing more than shaded chasms of black. Uh oh.
He cleared his throat. ‘Since when do the Sidhe know Klingon?’ he grunted in a deep voice.
I winced. So much for that. Without further warning, he thrust his free hand in a tight fist at the side of my head. For a brief second I felt a burst of pain and tiny lights danced in front of my eyes. Then the world slid into darkness.
*