Angel in Black (30 page)

Blake plainly read the hurt in her eyes and he asked, “What are your needs, Katrina? What is it you want? Do not tell me you wish to be married to Randolph, not in a million years will I believe this.”

“I will tell you the truth only if you promise to leave things alone; let me work out my problems on my own terms, without interference from you.”

He considered her request. He wanted more than anything to force her to go with him, but she would never forgive him if he did. Blake saw the grim determination on her face and gave in. “You have my promise not to interfere.”

Katrina knew how difficult it was for him to agree to her demand, but there was no other way. Not one she could consider, anyway.

“Oh, little one, what do you hope to achieve from this marriage?” The question came out sad and broken.

“Camray will belong to me, just as it belonged to my father and great-grandfather. I will not allow Langsford to be her master — Camray will be mine and only mine.”

“Is it so important?”

“Yes, it is,” Katrina’s eyes pleaded with Blake to understand. “It is more important than life itself.” She reached up and placed her palm against his cheek. “It is more important than my love for you. What I feel for you is a new and tender thing, whereas my need for Camray is old and established, woven firmly into my heart and soul. Camray must be mine, as it should be.”

Blake stood unable to speak. Had he heard her right? Katrina loved him. He cupped her face so he could look into her cobalt eyes; the honest, unmistakable truth before him. He closed his own eyes momentarily as if to spare himself the pain yet to come.

“What of Randolph? He is your husband.”

“He is nothing, Blake. I have done as the King commanded; he cannot demand I act as wife to this man. I give you my love, and only you will be my lover.”

“But tomorrow —” Blake could not finish.

Katrina smiled with warmth and loving. “Again, you worry of things yet to come. Blake, we have so little time together. Let us not waste it.”

He hugged her and whispered hoarsely, “If I were to lose you now, it would be more than I could bear.”

“You can never lose me, Blake. I am forever yours, death would not change this. My soul is yours, so guard it with care and love.” She reached down and pulled off her father’s ring and slipped it onto Blake’s finger. “This is the most precious thing I have. As long as you wear this ring, it will be a constant reminder of my love, especially when we are apart.”

Blake lifted Katrina into his arms and kissed her tenderly. When he looked into her eyes, all the love she spoke of was there. Blake carried her to the bed and laid her on it; removed her gown and robe.

Once his own clothes lay in a pile on the floor, he joined her, and together they shared pleasure only they could give one another. In Katrina’s mind, Blake was her husband, and she his wife, their love binding them together in a way no ceremony could. As the sun crept into the heavens, Blake and Katrina slept, peaceful and content, with no worries of what this new day would bring.

Chapter Seventeen

T
HE MORNING DAWNED TO
reveal gray clouds, brewing with menace over the city. But nothing affected Katrina’s happiness; not the news she would be leaving for Camray within the hour, not the forced company of her uncle and husband. A strange hope clung to Katrina, believing once she was home she would find a solution to her current situation. And, it helped knowing Blake would be nearby at Windsong.

Lawrence and Randolph waited for Katrina by the carriage; their attitudes impatient and stiff. Katrina started to step inside the plush conveyance but paused to look up into a window. Blake watched her, his face only a shadow to her eyes, but she did not need to see him to know the sadness etched on it. She raised her hand to her lips and blew her love a kiss good-bye, caring not if the gesture angered the two men who stood next to her. Randolph shoved her inside the coach and crawled in, his fury apparent on his ruddy face. Once Lawrence settled comfortably across from them, he banged on the ceiling and the coach lurched forward, headed for home, for Camray.

Katrina chose to ignore her companions and remained silent, but Randolph did not. “You are a stupid bitch and will pay dearly for last night.”

She looked at him amused and knew her smile incensed him further. “I trust you slept well?”

Lawrence’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment, as he realized the servants’ gossip was true. Humiliated, Randolph’s face flushed to a darker shade of red and he slapped Katrina across the face, leaving a stinging imprint of his hand on her cheek. He expected her to crumple into tears from the hard blow and was stunned when she did not. Calm, dry eyes filled with hate met his and he suddenly recalled her earlier threat. Her look told him he just made the mistake he would regret.

“My, my … we are a spitfire,” Lawrence’s tone took on that of a father lecturing a child, “but a foolish one. You risk much with your sharp-tongued arrogance, the consequences for your behavior severe. It would be a shame to see your lovely face marred, and … worse things could happen, Katrina.” Lawrence’s threat had no affect on her, which left him confused.

Instead, Katrina mocked him openly. “Is this where I am suppose to swoon or faint dead away at your frightening insinuations? You’re a pompous ass, Langsford, and I find it amusing to toy with you and your
son
. Ah, I see I have hit a nerve. Are you furious with me, uncle?”

Katrina saw his self-control slip, but didn’t care anymore. Nine years of hate erupted like a dormant volcano, spilled out with no caution or fear.

“You are a murdering bastard, a greedy and lecherous coward, living on the fear of others. But you will find no fear in me; you killed it over nine years ago when you slaughtered my parents.”

Lawrence choked and Randolph paled, his mouth dropping open in shock. Katrina waited, ready for their reactions. The coach swerved precariously, the driver shouted and came to an abrupt halt. Katrina found the knife hidden in the folds of her skirt, grasped it firmly and waited. She glanced out the window to see the driver fall to the ground dead, his throat slit from ear to ear.

When she turned her attention back to Lawrence, he straightened his coat, unconcerned. “I couldn’t take the chance you knew I murdered your parents, so I have made arrangements for you, dear.”

The door jerked open and Katrina found herself staring at the scarred face of the man from the inn, Mack — the man who tried to rape her.

“I believe you two know each other.” Lawrence’s cruel, wicked laughter filled the air, just as it had done the night he killed his half-brother. “You are a dead woman, Katrina Easton.”

Instead of panic, a strange calmness filled Katrina, and when she smiled Lawrence actually grimaced, no longer cocky. “You thought me dead long ago, you son-of-a-bitch, but you made one mistake, you sent someone else to do your dirty work for you. I see you have made the same mistake a second time.”

Katrina kicked Randolph back with her foot and in the same fluid movement lunged for the door. When Lawrence reached for her, she slashed a long gash in his arm with her knife. Quick and nimble, she jumped from the carriage and bolted, lifting her skirts high to allow her freedom to move. She dashed around the corner of a nearby building and ran straight into Mack’s partner, the giant. Before Katrina could react Ralph grabbed her about the waist and covered her mouth with a rag. She struggled, but inhaled the drug, and slowly sank into unconsciousness, dropping the knife.

The giant carried Katrina back to the coach where Langsford waited. He dropped a bag of gold coins into Mack’s open hand and grinned, satisfied. “Remember, when her dead body is found, you will receive the remainder.”

He looked at Katrina hanging limp in the giant man’s arms and chuckled. “Unless this she-cat has nine lives, Katrina is a dead girl.” He touched her silken cheek. “What a shame you missed your chance to have her, Randolph. She really is a lovely woman.”

K
ATRINA’S EYES FLUTTERED OPEN
but closed when the room swam about her, her head so heavy it fell back onto whatever she was lying on. She could hear mumbling not far from her, but she couldn’t make out the words. After several moments her eyes opened again, this time adjusting to the light and her surroundings. Her head pounded inside her skull, loud and painful as she tried to clear her muddled thoughts.

Dear God, Katrina thought in alarm as the haze lifted, it wasn’t just a horrible nightmare.

She stared in dismay at the two men across the room, realized the trouble she was in. This time she knew Blake would not rescue her.

Feigning sleep, she watched her captors from beneath her eyelids and noticed with satisfaction the gruesome scar on Mack’s face. It ran from his chin up to the corner of his mouth, across his cheek, and through his left eye, cutting his grizzled brow in two, leaving the eye useless. It rolled up and disappeared under the disfigured lid, leaving only the red-veined, yellowed white showing.

Katrina’s attention turned to the giant when he stood and moved about the room. The blow to Ralph’s nose left it permanently smashed, crooked and to the side. He walked with a definite limp, dragging his right foot behind him, and one shoulder hung lower than the other. Yes, these two had reason enough to hate her.

Katrina closed her eyes to rest. She wanted to be stronger before confronting her captors.

S
HE AWOKE ABRUPTLY WHEN
a foot prodded and kicked at her.

“Come on, bitch — it’s time you were up.” Mack delivered another swift kick, bruising Katrina’s ribs before she could roll away from him with a moan.

She peeked through half-closed lids and looked around. It had turned dark and a single lamp dimly lit the room. The giant remained occupied with a deck of cards, uninterested in his partner’s attempts to awaken her.

When she did not stir, Mack tried again. He leaned over what he thought was a sluggish and drugged girl. “Up with you, me patience is gone.”

Sitting up, Katrina brought her elbow around with all her strength and caught him right in the gut. He doubled over in pain, unable to catch his breath. She shoved him backward and sent him sprawling onto his backside. Struggling to her feet, she dashed for the door and before the clumsy giant could react, disappeared.

Katrina did not have any idea where she was, but, from the smell of it, guessed she was somewhere on the docks. She ran; the streets dark and empty. Most prudent people dared not wander about late at night in this dangerous area. She would find no help here. Hearing Mack’s yelling down the street, Katrina dashed into an alley. Littered with trash, she splashed through the sewage, and prayed she would not meet anyone or anything in its eerie darkness.

She stopped to catch her breath and decide which way to go but froze when she spotted the red, beady eyes of a huge dock rat before her. They continued to stare at each other, each waiting for the other to make a move. Katrina swallowed hard, her fear mounting as the shadows, changed by a passing cloud, revealed its tremendous size. And it was not alone.

Since childhood, she had abhorred the disease-ridden creatures, and for the first time in years, she felt genuine terror choke her. The rats sensed her fear and started to migrate closer. Katrina backed away, picking up a large stick from the mire to defend herself. With a quick glance behind her, she realized the alley dead ended. To escape, she would have to go past creatures the size of small dogs.

All the horrible things she had heard growing up flew through her mind; stories of giant rats killing humans for food. They were most likely false tales, but in her panic, she believed she would die, bitten and slashed to death by the filthy rodents. Abruptly, the rats stopped, distracted by the sound of drunken men passing on the street. One of the men stumbled into the alley and the rats scurried in every direction, one running over Katrina’s foot to brush against her leg. A scream escaped before she realized she made a sound. The others heard and started into the alley to join their mate who had finished pissing against the wall.

“Hey, sounded like a lassy, it did. Now, what would a split-tail be doin’ here?”

Another coaxed her, “Come out, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ t’ be scared of. How ’bout a li’tle havin’ bit of fun with me an’ me frien’s here?”

My God, screamed Katrina’s mind in despair. What next? She prepared herself with the stick as her only weapon and faced them, feeling more confident against a human foe than she’d felt only moments before when facing the beady-eyed kind.

“She don’t look t’ be so frien’ly, mates. A li’tle high an’ mighty methinks.”

“You would not want t’ hurt our feelin’s, now would you?”

Slowly, they crept forward, three against one.

“Come now lassy — put the stick down. We just want t’ show you a good time, we do.”

“Yeah, you’ll be thankin’ me later for givin’ you the best lovin’ you ever had.”

He grabbed at his crotch in a lewd manner and they all laughed, licking their lips in anticipation, like dogs about to eat a juicy bone. Katrina’s stomach churned as she looked at the scum before her; one drooled as be babbled incessantly about what he was going to do to her. Finally, the nearest of the men lunged at her, but Katrina reacted with a fierce blow to the head with her stick, sending him reeling backward, blood gushing from the gash on his forehead. Surprised, the others paused and she took her chance to scuttle past them.