The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

interaction began to thaw Grace’s resolve.
    The four chairs directly opposite her remained empty. She wondered who would sit there and a couple of minutes later she had her answer. Three children entered the room, followed by a pale woman. Of course. Nassar had arranged it so she would spend the meal looking at the faces of the children whose fate would be decided in the game.
    They took their seats: the woman with careworn eyes, a young boy with a wild mass of dark hair, and two girls, one slender and blonde, and the other only about ten or so, with short dark hair and big blue eyes. The youngest girl saw Nassar and came grinning around the table. “Hug?” she asked him seriously.
    “Hug,” he agreed and put his massive arms around her.
    “And no dying,” she reminded him.
    He let go and nodded.
    The girl noticed her. “Hi. I’m Polina.”
    It was impossible not to smile back. “Hi. I’m Grace.”
    “You’re supposed to protect Nassar,” Polina said.
    “That’s what he tells me.”
    The child looked at her with her blue eyes. “Please don’t let him die,” she said softly. “I like him a lot.”
    “I’ll try my best.”
    Polina went around the table to her seat. Grace leaned to Nassar and whispered, “Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?”
    “I didn’t put her up to it,” he told her.
    She glanced into his green eyes and believed him.
    Lunch went on. Dishes were brought and passed around the table: roast beef and mashed potatoes, green beans, corn, iced tea and lemonade. The food was delicious, but Grace ate little. Mostly she watched the children. The boy leaned to his mother, making sure her cup was filled. The older girl seemed on the verge of tears. She became more and more agitated, until finally, just as peach cobbler made its way past Grace, the girl dropped her fork. Her voice rang out. “What if they win?”
    The table fell quiet.
    “They won’t,” Nassar said calmly.
    “If Arthur touches us, I’ll kill him.” Steel vibrated in the boy’s voice.
    Their mother leaned her elbows on the table and rested her forehead on her hands. “No. You’re not strong enough,” she told him in a dull voice. “Not yet. You must do whatever it takes to survive.”
    “That’s enough.” Nassar’s magic surged out, spreading behind him like invisible wings. It brushed against Grace. Breath caught in her throat. So much power . . .
    Nassar fixed the children with his stare. “You’re our kin. You belong to Clan Dreoch. Nobody will take you from us. Anyone who tries will have to go through me.”
    With his power rising above the table, the prospect of going through him seemed impossible. His magic was staggering. It would take an army.
    The anxiety slowly melted from the children’s faces.
    “Let’s try again,” Nassar said, as the two of them strode back into the room.
    The worm still floated in the circle. Grace stepped inside. It shied from her. “Why did you tell the children about the curse?”
    “I won’t lie to them. The possibility of defeat exists and they have to be prepared.”
    That defeat seemed very likely at the moment.
    “But I will fight to the death to keep them safe. And even if I lose, the clan won’t surrender them. We will go to war. We won’t turn over children to a man who will break their bones.”
    Neither would she. It didn’t matter who they were. A child was a child. She couldn’t let them suffer, not after watching them near panic with the fear of having to leave their mother. Their family and their home, all would be ripped away if Nassar and she lost.
    “Now do you understand why I fight?” he asked her softly.
    She nodded.
    “I need your help desperately. Please help me, Grace.”
    “I wish I could,” she said, her voice filled with regret.
    Nassar watched her for a long moment. “What do you remember about your encounter with the dog? What did you feel?”
    Grace frowned. “It was twelve years ago. I remember being scared for myself. And for the dog. He was my friend’s dog. I knew that if he bit me, he would be put down.”
    Nassar strode to her, a determined look on his face.
    “What are you doing?”
    Nassar kept coming.
    She realized he was going to cross the line. “Liza isn’t here to save you!”
    “No.” He gave her the familiar half-smile. “Only you can save me now.”
    Nassar stepped over the line. The worm streaked to him. It skimmed the surface of his magic and clamped onto his shoulder. Nassar’s