Chosen by Nina Croft Page A

work?”
    His smile was rueful. “It used to.”
    She watched as he rose, graceful, from the floor. He moved like some jungle cat, the sleek muscles shifting under satin skin.
    “Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered.
    “Like what?”
    “Hungry,” he said, picking up his pants and tugging them on.
    Shayla grinned. “Starving, actually.”
    But she finished pulling on her clothes. When she looked back, Tallon was also dressed.
    “Let’s go find my staff.”
    Shayla leaned down to pick up her cloak. She opened her mouth to speak but at that moment, Tallon cried out and collapsed to his knees beside her.
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     

     
    Shayla whirled around.
    Rachel stood in the open doorway, a Taser clutched in her hand. It was attached to Tallon by two long, thin wires. Behind her were three more Witches, all armed. Shayla searched their faces, but their blank expressions gave her no hope.
    Beside her, Tallon was fighting for control. He overcame the pain by force of will and dragged himself up from his knees. He reached around, his hand clutching for the barbs embedded in his flesh and jerked them free.
    Rachel stepped into the room. She dropped the Taser and drew another weapon, sleek and black, and Shayla sensed at a glance that it was deadly.
    “I told them you were not to be trusted,” Rachel said. “That given the chance you would side with the Warlock. That you’d bring death to us all.”
    “You’re wrong,” Shayla said, urgently. “I just want to return to Arroway. Tallon is helping me.”
    But Rachel wasn’t listening. She was staring at Tallon, her face a mask of loathing, her eyes gleaming with madness. “Cassandra was a fool not to kill him as soon as we saw what he was. But that can soon be put right. He dies now.”
    She raised the weapon until it pointed straight at Tallon’s chest. There was grim determination in her expression, and Shayla realized nothing she said would sway the other woman from her course.
    It was as if time stood still. Shayla’s whole being was focused on the weapon aimed at Tallon. There was no way she could reach Rachel in time. She searched, her mind frantic for some way to stop her, but her brain remained stubbornly blank.
    Frustration clawed at her. Why couldn’t she call her magic when she needed it the most? What use was it? They were threatening Tallon, and she was powerless. At the thought, her fury flared into life, swift and savage, awakening something deep within her in that secret place where her magic slumbered. She sensed it stirring sleepily, unfurling, stretching, and she knew then that she had the power to stop them. If she wished, she had the power to bathe the world in their blood. Destroy them all.
    Without thinking, she brought her wrist to her mouth and bit down. Her magic rose to the surface as the blood flowed, dripping crimson to the floor. She started to chant a spell, not knowing where the words came from. Not caring. All that mattered was saving Tallon.
    The room was fading, her vision tinged with red as though viewed through a veil of blood. The power was building, pressing down, needing some sort of release, and a wild exhilaration filled her. Now, she knew how the Witch, Casterix, must have felt all those years ago—capable of annihilating the world and all her enemies. Shayla would destroy them all.
    “Shayla! No!”
    Tallon’s voice. Urgent. Calling to her.
    She tried to ignore it, but it came again, loud, insistent. She paused, dredged herself up from that place deep within her mind. Her vision cleared slightly. It had been mere seconds. Nothing had changed. Rachel might have hesitated, but the weapon was still aimed at Tallon. He paid it no heed, his whole attention on Shayla.
    “You can’t do this,” he said slowly, each word distinct. “You cannot use your power to destroy.”
    She shook her head. “I can’t let them kill you.” Didn’t he understand that?
    His gaze was intent on her. “If you save me this way,