Finished with her task, Hectia stood and wiped her hands on the drapes. "I'm not carrying him." She snatched up her coat from the desk and slid into it. "Verchiel can do that."

"I appreciate your faith in me." Effortlessly, the redhead heaved up the body and balanced it over one shoulder. "All right, and where shall we have our happy bonfire?"

"The back garden should be sufficient." Jorick's tone was casual, but his eyes were guarded now that he'd discovered Verchiel's ...