get to her feet, he pulled a pistol from his jacket and pointed it at her head. Cora scrambled to rise, but she tripped on her skirt and stumbled back down. He swung the pistol forward and hit her on the side of the head.
Cora lost consciousness for several moments, and when she became alert again, she was being dragged toward the street.
“Stop right there, Blake!”
Cora heard Mack’s loud, powerful voice and wanted to cry for joy. His bruises were still plain to see, and because of his cracked ribs he moved slowly, but he was an intimidating figure to behold.
“Let her go, Blake, or you’re a dead man.”
Blake laughed. “I’m a dead man if I let her go, so I think my chances are better with her as a hostage.”
“Your chances are no better either way. You killed a man.”
“Unfortunately, it was the wrong man.”
“We know. Your target was Sir George Grey.”
“Yes. He ruined everything. We had millions of followers! Millions! And he reduced us to nothing!”
Cora felt the tenseness in her captor’s grip. The longer he talked, the angrier he became. She knew he wasn’t rational. Knew his mental stability was in question. Knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. Just like he’d killed Sir George Grey’s Undersecretary.
She also realized what Mack was doing. He was stalling to give Hugh and one of the other investigators time to get into place.
Cora looked into Mack’s face. His expression was different than the one he’d worn at the Exhibition. His features then had been cold, hard … unreadable. The firm set to his mouth was still hard, the anger in his eyes still cold, but there was something else. As he glared at Blake, his expression was … deadly.
Cora tried to be brave. She tried to tell Mack with unspoken words that she trusted him. And she did. With her life. But she also knew that the man holding her was a madman.
“Let the lady go, Blake,” Mack said again.
“So you can win?” Blake hollered. “Do you think I don’t know your reputation, Wallace? You’re as used to coming out on top as the Home Secretary. You don’t know what it’s like to lose. Well, today you will. Today I’ll show you what it feels like to lose something important.”
The gun in Frederick Blake’s hand moved just a fraction, and Cora knew he intended to fire his pistol. She knew she was going to die.
She looked at Mack’s face, trying to memorize every detail. Trying to ingrain his features into her memory so that his face would be the last thing she remembered. She looked into his eyes.
The depth of their color, the intensity with which he looked back at her caused tears to well in her eyes. She tried to smile. She wanted him to remember her smiling.
She wanted him to know how happy he’d made her. How much joy he’d given her. How much she loved him.
His gaze locked with hers. He must have recognized what she was telling him, because the corners of his mouth turned slightly upward. Then, without breaking their gaze, he gave a sharp nod.
An explosion of gunfire echoed all around her, and Cora shrank inside herself. She wrapped her arms around her middle and doubled over, trying to make herself as small as possible.
Frederick Blake’s hold on her loosened, then he released her.
Before Cora knew what had happened, Mack ran to her and gathered her to him.
“Don’t look,” he said, turning her head so that her cheek was against his chest. “You’re safe now, Cora. No one will ever hurt you again.”
Mack wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her through the garden gate. When they reached the house, he sat with her nestled in his arms.
He held her and rubbed tiny circles around her upper arm, then gently kissed her forehead and cheek. When that wasn’t enough for either of them, he tipped her head and brought his lips down over hers.
The kiss they shared was tender yet filled with passion. He kissed her once, then kissed her again. It was as if each kiss they shared wasn’t
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