A Murder in Time(145)

“Now who’s not in their best looks?” she taunted even though the right side of her face felt swollen and sore from the beating. Her eyes darted to the table, which held the knives. They were closer to Morland. To get to them, she’d have to go through the bastard.

“I’m going to kill you!” Morland’s voice was raspy from her attempt to crush his larynx. Bruises circled his throat. It gave her some satisfaction to know that she’d inflicted the same wounds on him that he’d given to countless women. She said nothing to his threat, conserving her energy.

Morland got to his feet, his gaze flat and cold. They eyed each other, two predators who understood the stakes. There could be only one victor—unless they killed each other.

Morland rushed forward, the knife held high in one hand. Kendra tensed, her attention focused on the blade. As he brought it arcing down toward her, she catapulted herself forward, grabbing his wrist and twisting sharply, the same classic policeman’s maneuver that she’d used against Thomas in the forest.

Morland let out a cry and dropped the knife. But he was bigger, stronger, and smarter than Thomas. Instead of falling to his knees, he gave a punishing kick that knocked her sideways, loosening her grip. He twisted, striking her again, and they both fell in a tangled heap on the bed.

He rolled on top of her, pinioning her body beneath his. His eyes were wild as he brought his hands up to her throat, reversing their earlier position. Yellow dots swam in front of her eyes as his hands squeezed. But Kendra felt something sharp sticking into her side.

The hairpin.

Frantically, she swept the bed linens. It felt like forever, but it probably only took two seconds for her to find the slender wire and another second to grasp it. Then she brought her arm up and, with unerring accuracy fueled by desperation, she drove it into Morland’s left eye.

He screamed, a high-pitched sound of agony, and let her go. His hands flew to his face. Kendra didn’t wait; she brought her right hand up in a quick, powerful jab to the base of his eyebrows, and felt the gristle give way beneath the heel of her palm. She followed that with a one-two strike with her left hand, smashing his nose and punching upward, knowing that the bits of cartilage that she’d broke a second ago were now being forced up into his brain.

Morland made a strange gurgling sound. Kendra stared at the grotesque image above her. He hadn’t managed to pull out the hairpin before her attack, and it now protruded horrifyingly from his blind eye. His entire face was covered in blood.

He swayed almost drunkenly. Then he toppled to the bed beside her.

Kendra’s breath was coming out in such harsh gasps that she couldn’t tell whether Morland was breathing or not. If he survived, he’d have brain damage, she was sure. He wouldn’t be butchering any more women.

Slowly, painfully, she rolled away from him. She tried to stand, but her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor. She waited a minute, then managed to get to her hands and knees, shaking violently. She wondered if she could somehow crawl back to the castle, or if she’d die on the way.





70

The first thing that Alec saw when they ran into the cave was Gabriel’s prone form. “My God, Gabriel . . .” He rushed over to his brother, and at first thought him dead. Then he realized that Gabriel’s eyes were open, staring at him with awareness.

His gaze fell to Gabriel’s bloody hands. His brother had balled up a handkerchief and was pressing it into his stomach, but the handkerchief was saturated, so dark it looked black.

“Morland . . .” Gabriel coughed lightly, and with a terrible sense of foreboding, Alec saw flecks of blood on his lips.

“Don’t speak, Gabriel.”

“Morland . . .”

“We know. We know he’s the monster.”

“T-thought I . . . thought I was the monster.”

Alec glanced around, and saw his shock reflected in the faces of the Duke, Sam, and Harcourt. He turned back to his brother. “You are no monster.”

“Morland . . . Miss Donovan . . . in t-the room . . .”

“Stay still, Gabe. We will help you.” As the Duke and Sam hunched down, Alec pushed himself to his feet. In the dim light, he saw a cut in the cavernous wall. A hallway. Pulling out the dueling pistol, he hurried over to it. He lifted the pistol, and pushed through the door.

The stench of blood hit him first. His eyes swept the room. Thomas was dead on the floor, a gaping wound across his throat, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Morland was lying on his back on a bed, his face dark with smeared blood, his nose flattened in an almost comical manner. And there was something . . . what the hell was sticking out of his eye?

“Jesus,” he breathed, as his eyes fell on Kendra Donovan. She was on her hands and knees, shivering uncontrollably and equally bloody.

Shoving the pistol back into his pocket, he rushed forward and lifted her into his arms. She let out a cry of pain. Her face was bruised, one eye swollen shut. But she was alive.

“Morland . . .”

“I know. He’s the monster.”

She shook her head, and winced. “Is he . . . dead?”

Alec glanced over at the still figure on the bed. “I believe so. Good God. What the devil is in his eye?”

“Hairpin.” She allowed herself to curl against Alec’s body. “I always knew those things could be lethal.”