Chapters (66)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- France / 1666
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Massachusetts / 1892
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- San Francisco / 1927
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Cleveland / 1938
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Edinburgh / 1962
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- Preview of Broken
- Also by Kelley Armstrong
- Praise for Kelley Armstrong
- Copyright
It was the same village. The seemingly endless forest was an illusion. Walk north from the village, and you’d find yourself at the south end. That was why Dachev headed back the way he’d come when he thought I’d kept running down the path earlier—so he could head me off when I unintentionally looped back around. The moment I thought this, I saw a shape moving through the trees ahead. I glanced over my shoulder. More shapes running that way.
I dove into the forest on the left. Even as I crashed through the bushes, hearing nothing behind me, I knew I wouldn’t get far. Not only had I lost the advantage of speed, but I was cutting their path for them. Any minute now, they’d be close enough to see.
I stopped running, dowsed my light-ball, slipped off to the left, and cast a cover spell. A moment later, the forest erupted in crashes and curses, as they stumbled through the dark looking for me. Should I stay here, covered, until the cavalry rode in? I was relatively safe, but would my rescue team know where to find me? I had to trust that they would…or that I’d hear them. So long as I was hidden here, with the killers fumbling in the dark—
A light flickered to my right. As I strained my eyes in that direction, I saw orange flame bouncing through the darkness, approaching from the west. A torch. Someone had gone back to the village for a torch. Within moments, all of them carried a lit tree branch, swinging it about and peering into the darkness.
“She’s using magic,” Dachev called. “She can make herself invisible, but she cannot move. If you bump into her, she will reappear.”
A few grunts of satisfaction.
“There are two ways we can do this,” Dachev continued, voice ringing over the shuffle of footsteps and the spit of the torches. “Competition or cooperation.”
“I help no one,” club-man’s voice rumbled. “I find it, it is mine.”
“Then you do that. Those who want to help me find her, come here and we’ll split up, do this systematically.”
“And then you will take her,” someone said.
A chorus of agreement.
“No, then I will let you have her. All who help me will get a turn. And when you are done, she is mine. If that sounds fair to you, come over here. The rest, search on your own.”