agreed Victoria. “Let us ladies have our tête-à-tête.” She licked her lips. “I shall come and find you later. My last meal was not nearly enough.” She stepped to the side and bile rose in Miranda’s throat as she saw the gray husk of a lifeless body lying in the dirt.
“Good Christ,” gasped Leland. “It is Rossberry.”
“Yes,” said Victoria. “He was becoming a nuisance to my Benji. I saved him for last to heighten his fear. And I must say, although his heart was tough and bitter tasting, his soul was most interesting to consume.”
Miranda’s fingers dug into Archer’s cold neck. How much longer did they have before Archer became like this? Was the sun nearly up? An eternity seemed to have passed since they had started their weary journey. “Leland”—she dared not look at him—“go now. I shall see to this.”
He moved back a few paces, remembering perhaps his vow to her, and Victoria laughed again, clapping her hands together in delight. “Such authority, Miranda. I do like you.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
Silver eyebrows lifted but Victoria merely smoothed the folds of her silver satin gown. Her choice of dress was in the empire style popular when Archer had been young. Perhaps she had selected it for him. The idea left a bitter taste in Miranda’s mouth.
“Ah, but it is simple, feminine jealousy that brings us to strife,” the witch said with a light sigh. “How petty it is, hmm?” Her pleasant smile twisted. “He was always mine. He pledged himself to me. He may have forgotten for a time.” She shrugged. “In the end, he remembered. He came of his own free will.”
“Free will had nothing to do with it,” Miranda snapped. “You’ve been toying with him all this time.”
Victoria gave her a bored look, like a child who dreams of sweets while receiving a dressing down. “What fun do I have otherwise? Besides, all of them had to pay. I loved them all. And they worshiped me. For a time.” Anger tightened her mouth to a bud. “Then they turned from me, and banished my Benji, and he was lost to me.”
Her cold anger flared in the air for a sharp moment and then deflated just as quickly. “For that, they must pay. But the moment had to be right. It was better for me to kill them when Benji returned.”
“You did it to push Archer into a corner,” Miranda said. “To turn them all against him once again and leave him little chance of remaining in society.”
“Exactement!” Victoria clapped her hands together with a smile. “Ah, but it is satisfying to face a woman of intelligence.”
“You might have simply killed me,” Miranda found herself saying. She wanted the fight now. Wanted Victoria to come at her so that the bitch might die. “I am your true threat, after all.”
Victoria’s silver brows rose delicately. “I might have,” she admitted softly. She glanced at Archer. “But men are like children, no? Take away their favorite toy too soon, and they throw the greatest temper.” Her eyes snapped back to Miranda. “That is what you are. A toy. One that has lost its luster.”
Victoria took a small, sauntering step into the open cavern, and the firelight flashed over her skin like diamonds in the sun. “Now that we speak of toys. Did you like the present I left you?”
John Coachman. Something much like a snarl flew past Miranda’s lips.
Triumph flashed in Victoria’s eyes. “He was most amusing. Such a strapping youth. Ah, but the look of surprise on his face when I came to him in the stable yard wearing a mask and your cloak, begging him to bed me. He resisted. Until I knelt down and pleasured him.”
Miranda’s fingers twitched over Archer’s skin. When she said nothing, Victoria’s brows drew together in annoyance.
“The boy was in love with you. Did you know? He whispered it in my ear just before he took me.” Victoria’s wide mouth curled. “I must say he was an excellent lover, so very common and forceful. I was almost sorry about having to hurt him.” The corners of her catlike eyes creased, the silver irises reflecting like a mirror, utterly soulless. How could Miranda have ever compared them to Archer’s?
“But then, he thought it was you who killed him. I saw it, the pain and shock in those big, dumb eyes—”
“Enough!” Miranda’s shout echoed off the cold walls. “I will kill you. For John Coachman, Cheltenham. And Archer. I will send you