The Magician's Witch

Hell Hath no Fury

Erik ripped the collar of his shirt open with deft fingers, detaching it and flinging it across the room. He next removed the cravat, crumpled it, and hurled it away. It landed next to the detached collar. His tailcoat fared little better, landing in a heap on the floor; he left it there. For a man who took such great care and fastidiousness in his appearance in order to make up for his one major imperfection, abusing his wardrobe was highly out of character.

Behzad watched this display of bitter disappointment with a mixture of compassion and apprehension; Erik was known for his violent outbursts. Behzad had borne witness to Erik's fits of fury more than once, watching him fly into a blind rage, mindlessly obliterating anything he could get his hands on. He waited with bated breath for the destruction to begin.

Erik stood for several moments in the middle of the room, as if fixed to the spot. He trembled; his hands balled into fists. Tonight had not gone the way he had intended.

"Erik, I agree with Eilis," Behzad ventured hesitantly.

Erik acted as though he hadn't spoken, not even turning his head to listen.

"I may not have understood her words, but it was obvious that she was upset. You challenged the Shah tonight on her behalf, and she is not pleased. He may be young, but the shah is not a fool. You know this. And he now knows you possess someone he desires. I have said this before, but I will say it again: If he wants to take her, he will."

Erik whirled around to face Behzad. His eyes were wild, almost feral. Behzad flinched but maintained eye contact. He continued firmly.

"He can take her from you. Erik, I have seen the Shah take a man's wife. He desired to have her, and so he had her husband cut down right in front of her. She still lives in the harem. He can do the same to the two of you. In fact, he would enjoy destroying you a little too much."

"Then the Shah will meet a rather unfortunate end," Erik said much too calmly, making the hair on Behzad's arms stand on end. "He will discover quickly that covetousness of another man's lover is a cardinal sin and he shall be punished accordingly".

Behzad shivered and opened his mouth again to rebut.

A loud crash came from the opposite side of the wall, followed the sound of something being smashed against it. There was the sound of a struggle followed by a howl of pain.

Fear shot through Erik like a bolt of lightning.

"Eilis," he breathed, immediately alarmed. He rushed out of the room, pushing past Behzad who followed him out.

Erik shoved Eilis' bedroom door open, looking around for her. Another shriek of agony pinpointed her location—but it wasn't Eilis who had screamed.

Eilis had the man's arm in a hold, standing just inside his instep, and leaning against his thigh, bending the arm until the elbow curved in the wrong direction.

"No, no, no, no, no," the man begged in Persian as Eilis put pressure on his leg, bending the arm further.

"You do not touch things that don't belong to you," she was instructing the intruder indignantly in English.

She looked up when the two men burst into the room. She peered up at Erik who appraised her with concern which quickly changed to surprise.

She grinned at him wolfishly and then winced, the cut on her lip making itself known. Blood dribbled down her chin. Her left eye boasted a fresh shiner where the prowler had hit her. The sleeve of her new dress was torn at the seam.

"This...man...whoever he is, seems to have gotten lost," Eilis informed Erik and Behzad as they gawked. "He thought grabbing me from behind and trying to force himself on me would be easy. Boy, was he wrong." She strained the arm she held a little more, eliciting a high-pitched wail from her captive.