man spun around, his face flashing across the lamplight and that’s when I noticed his familiar features. I swore my heart stopped beating.
Mr. Wrolf.
He’d found me.
Terror raced through my veins, bitterly cold. Oh God, Izzy! What if he’d found Izzy as well? I struggled, trying to bring my arms forward so I could sit up, but my arms resisted. My body had grown useless. As I wiggled, trying to move, feeling came tingling back into my limbs, and I could sense the tight bindings around my wrists behind my back.
My heart pounded so loudly that I could barely heard the cries of pain from John as Wrolf attacked him. Fear tasted bitter on my tongue. Escape. I had to escaped while Wrolf and the other man were fighting.
Desperate, I wiggled my hands, trying to break free of the rope. Was it growing loose, or was that just my imagination? With each flick of my wrist, the pain grew sharply into focus. But it was that pain that anchored me. Think. I needed to think. One step at a time. With all the strength I could gather, I rocked to my side and fell to my back. My arms were wedged painfully underneath me, my skirts twisted around my legs. How the hell had I gotten here? What had happened?
“Help!” the smaller man called out. “Hel—”
The word was cut off. I didn’t want to know why. I gritted my teeth, arched my back, and managed to rock until I could sit up. The world spun, my heart beat swooshing in my ears. I had to wait a breathless moment for my mind and body to connect again.
The grunt of the smaller man drew my attention to the shadows. Wrolf had his hands around John’s neck, holding him pinned to the stone wall. The man clawed at Wrolf’s hands, but the bastard wouldn’t relent.
“Stop!” I screamed, my voice bouncing off the stone walls.
It was as if I had said nothing. No one flinched. Neither even looked my way.
I struggled, pulling on my arms until I thought they’d pop from their sockets. Yes…yes, I was sure of it. The rope was growing slack. Too late. John’s arms fell lax at his sides. Wrolf stepped back. The man slid to the ground in a heap of limbs.
He was dead.
For one long moment I didn’t move, merely stared at the puddle of a man on the floor. Then, Wrolf turned my way. John no longer mattered, only the monster before me. I couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but I didn’t need to. The glee that radiated from him could be sensed from across the room. He enjoyed harming people. He enjoyed the kill.
“Help!” I screamed, my voice echoing against the stone walls. “Help me!”
Wrolf strolled toward the table. “My dear, do shut up. It’s pointless to scream, and you’re just making this unpleasant for both of us. We’re in the countryside. Not a house for miles.”
He picked up a chair, the lamp, and headed toward me.
I started to tremble. My hands grew slick with sweat, or maybe it was blood. I couldn’t tell anymore; my wrists had grown numb from the rope. He was going to kill me. I knew that as fact. Just as I knew that he would take his time and enjoy every minute of my pain. Tears burned my eyes, but I didn’t dare let them fall.
Izzy. I had to believe Izzy was safe. And I had to escape for her.
He set the lamp on the brick floor a few feet from me, the light blindingly bright. Then with a thump, he placed the chair next to the lamp and slumped into it, as if exhausted. Killing people, apparently, was hard work. “Oh Evangeline, sweet, sweet Evangeline. How you’ve grown. There is so much to tell you! Where to start?”
He was so close I felt ill. So close I could smell the scent of pomade and sweat. Why hadn’t I tried harder to escape when he’d been occupied with John? Under my lashes, I scanned the room, looking for help, for a weapon, for anything. “Why are you doing this? I don’t know you! I’ve done nothing to you!”
“Don’t know me? Done nothing to me?” He leaned closer, his gaze narrowed. “How disappointed I am that I didn’t make more of an impression. Think Evangeline, my sweet, think.”
Something about the way he said my name gave me pause.
“Oh Evangeline, where are you, my sweet. I have peppermints for you.”