Page 87 of The King and Vi

He’d found a life he hadn’t even known he wanted.

Was the witch taking Joshua from him now?

She laughed and rose over him as he cowered on the floor. And then, slowly, King climbed to his feet.

“You’ve had your revenge,” he said. At least, he thought he spoke. Holy hell, but he did not want to consider that he was communicating with the witch through his thoughts alone. “Now leave me and mine in peace.”

She seemed to shrink in size—or perhaps it was his imagination.

“Begone!” he yelled, and this time he heard the words break free from his raw, blistering throat.

She seemed to flicker then rose up, brighter and stronger. “Ye will nae break the curse. Never!”

The flames surrounding her brightened, and King had to turn away and shield his face. The light was almost as bright as daylight, and he spotted a small form in the furthest corner of the room.

Joshua!

And then the flames went out and the fire was gone, and it was just King standing in a black, smoke-filled room.

*

He was dead.She knew he was dead, and Joshua with him. No one could survive that blaze. Even the fire brigade was having trouble withstanding the heat long enough to get close enough to throw water on the flames.

This entire night had turned into her worst imaginings made flesh. She’d wanted to be rid of Ferryman, wanted to burn his gang to the ground. But doing away with the arch rogue was not worth the life of Joshua. It wasn’t worth King’s life either.

Tears streamed down her face as she climbed to her feet and stared at the burning tavern. This was her fault. She had set the fire. She had agreed to the plan. She should have made Joshua and King stay home tonight. They’d be safe in the little flat, together.

“Miss, is everything all right?”

Violet turned to the man looking down at her. He had a kind face, clean and not stained with soot. He held out a handkerchief and mopped her wet face. She didn’t know how to answer the man. No, she was not all right. She’d never be all right again.

Her gaze flicked back to the tavern, as though looking at the fire should be answer enough for him. She looked back at the man then gasped and turned to the tavern again.

But it hadn’t been a mirage. She hadn’t imagined the dark figure of a man carrying a small form through the flames and smoke.

“King!” she cried, stepping forward. He seemed to stumble. “King! Oh, no. King!”

His head turned, and he located her and began to move forward. Violet didn’t wait. She ran to him, took Joshua from hisarms, and sank to her knees. King crumpled beside her, his coat falling away. She took in his face—he was black from smoke and ash, but unhurt.

No. Not unhurt. She saw no physical injury, but there was something in his eyes she didn’t like. Something that scared her. “What is it?” she asked.

King looked at her, then his gaze slid to Joshua. “Is he breathing? Tell me he’s alive.”

Violet looked down at the thin boy in her arms. Sudden terror gripped her. She lowered him and put her head to his chest. For a long moment, she didn’t hear or feel anything. And then, very faintly, she heard his heart beating. Felt his chest rise as he took a breath.

She looked up at King. “You saved him. He’s alive.”

“Thank God.”

And then he collapsed in a heap on the ground.

*

He dreamed ofthe witch. He saw her rising from the flames, chanting the curse, laughing as he stumbled about in the smoke and falling ash. He had to find Joshua. Violet would never recover if anything happened to Joshua, and she’d already faced so much loss.

In the dream, King groped about in the darkness, searching for Joshua’s body. But there was nothing in that darkness. No matter how far or wide he stretched his hands, he felt nothing but the thick heat of the air. He fumbled in the darkness for what seemed an eternity before he finally felt something solid. King held on, running his hands over the object until his mind categorized it as a human form.

He’d found Joshua.

---