Someone to Watch Over Me (Bow Street Runners #1)(73)

Half running, half crawling up the fragmenting stairs, he reached the second floor. Through a red blur of rampant fury, he saw two figures directly across the factory space...Keyes, crouching over Victoria's prostrate form, fumbling at her skirts while a crack of lightning threw a harsh, brilliant glare through the broken roof. The only color in the room was Victoria's hair, rich as rubies, pooling brightly beneath her head. She was gagged. Eyes closed, motionless, she lay flattened beneath the Runner without a hint of movement.

An unholy noise came from Grant's throat, a devil cry that erupted from the bottom of his soul. No longer aware of his own actions, he sprang at Keyes, his entire being occupied with the need to attack and kill. The other man had only a split second to look up before Grant was on him. A curse exploded from Keyes as he was thrown halfway across the room. He rolled, fumbled for his brace of pistols, but just as he grasped the butt of a weapon, Grant seized his arm and slammed it against the floor with a force that broke bones. Screaming with pain, Keyes struck out with his other fist, ramming it into Grant's jaw. Grant barely felt the blow, so intent was he on murder.

"She'snothing, you bloody animal!" Keyes screamed, glaring into Grant's savage, pitiless face. "You wouldn't kill me over a whore!"

Grant didn't reply, only hammered brutally until no more words came from the Runner's mouth. Gradually Keyes stopped fighting and brought up his arms to defend his face and head. When the Runner was subdued to a groaning heap, Grant reached into his boot and extracted his knife, relishing the feel of it in his hand. He would be satisfied only with death, and nothing would stop him now. All the things he believed in, the strictures of law, fairness, justice, had disappeared like dust in the wind. Nearly demented with bloodlust, he raised the knife in the air.

But a muffled sound made him pause. Panting in harsh, irregular bursts, he looked in the direction of the sound. Victoria was on her side, watching him, her throat working silently, her eyes wide and staring above the gag in her mouth. Grant tensed until he shook from repressed force. He couldn't take his gaze from her face. Victoria's blue eyes seemed to imprison him, preventing him from moving. A thread of sanity penetrated through the first few layers of warlike rage, but he resisted fiercely.

"Turn your face away," he said in a voice that didn't seem to belong to him.

Victoria shook her head immediately, understanding that he could not bring himself to kill a man while she was watching.

"Damn you, look away," Grant growled. She did not. Their gazes held, his demonic, hers insistent, until finally she defeated him. He acceded with a low groan and slid the knife back into his boot. Delivering one last blow to Keyes, he knocked the man unconscious and searched his pockets rapidly. He found the key to the handcuffs that tethered Victoria's arms and brought it to her, dropping to his knees by her side. She quivered as the key turned in the handcuffs and the manacles dropped away from her bruised wrists.

As soon as the gag was removed from Victoria's tear-ravaged face, Grant dragged her into his lap and crushed her against his body. The feel of her, soft and small and alive, caused him to groan with tortured relief. His hands raked over her, his mouth dragging hungrily over her hair, skin, clothes, as if he would devour her whole.

"Grant," she gasped, flinching from the force of his kisses.

He gave an animal growl of pleasure and need, crushing his lips hard over hers.

He felt her arm slide around his neck, and her breath puffed against his ear as she spoke. "I thought I would die here. I thought...his face would be the last thing I saw in this lifetime."

"Myface is the last one you'll see in this lifetime," he said gruffly.

"I remembered everything...that man, Keyes...he tried to kill me before."

Grant knew he was holding her too tightly, but he couldn't seem to loosen his arms. "I'm sorry," he finally managed. "I'm so sorry. It's my fault--"

"No, no. Please don't say that." Her hands clasped the hard nape of his neck. "How did you find me? How did you know?"

"I found out about Keyes from Lord Lane. For the last half hour I've been insane, thinking I wouldn't reach you in time." He buried his face against her bodice with a groan. "Oh, God."

He felt her fingers slide gently through his wet hair, and she murmured something soft and indistinguishable.

"I'll never let you out of my sight again," he said, his voice muffled against her breast, and she let out an unsteady gasp of laughter.

"F-fine. That's just fine with me."

As the storm continued to rage and blow outside, the factory creaked and shuddered. The sounds galvanized Grant into action. Reluctantly he set Victoria out of his lap and pulled her up with him. "I have to get you out of here," he muttered.

"Yes." She cast a glance of loathing about the wretched place, her gaze lingering on Keyes's prostrate form. "What about him?"

"We'll leave him to the others," Grant said, not caring if the entire building collapsed around the bastard...as long as they were safely out of it first. He slid a supportive arm around her back. "Can you walk, Victoria?" She nodded, and to his amazement, a smile tugged at her chapped lips. "What is it?" he asked, wondering if the terror of the last few minutes had caused her to become temporarily unbalanced.

"You said my name," she said, her voice scratchy and strained, the smile remaining on her lips. "How did you--"