Victoria's Demon Lover - By Alia Bess Page 0,61

Brigayne would be racking up the points while Jack was clearly out of his league.

Out of his league in skill, but not strength. She watched his face and saw when that realization came over him. He relaxed his jaw and started to use his body instead of his arm. He turned and twisted to dodge Brigayne’s thrusts and used his longer legs and greater strength to his advantage. She saw that he was no longer trying to beat him with the steel, but to disarm the lord. It happened in a flash. Brigayne’s sword missed a stab at Jack’s chest and passed harmlessly under his arm. At that moment Jack turned and brought his sword down as one would swing a golf club. His blade met Brigayne’s at a right angle, the force of the blow knocked the hilt from the lord’s hand and sent the blade clattering over the rail of the mezzanine and to the floor below. Jack threw his blade after it.

This act surprised both Brigayne and Victoria. But just for a moment. Jack was on Brigayne in two steps with a wicked upper cut. The lord went down on his back, surprise in his eyes. He had probably never been struck in his life. Jack danced backwards, his great fists balled up like boulders. His shoulders moved back and forth as he evaluated his enemy. Brigayne did not want to play any game he could not win, and now his face held none of its previous arrogance. He got to his feet and put his hands in front of him in the universal gesture of a time out. His eyes darted over the servants gathered on the floor below, watching this drama.

“Go for the sheriff’s men,” he shouted at them. Make sure they bring a pistol.”

A pistol. The great equalizer. Then this was at least seventeenth century, probably eighteenth, the historian in Victoria noted. Jack swung at Brigayne and missed. The lord ducked and danced away, reluctant to engage those huge fists and arms. Jack outweighed him fifty pounds at least. Brigayne shouted at the servants to get the groundskeeper and “have him bring a shovel!” Jack swung again and this time connected with Brigayne’s chest. The lord staggered back and put his fists up. He glared at Jack. “How dare you, ruffian. How dare you strike me. That blow was your death.”

Jack sneered at him and threw another punch, then bounced back on the balls of his feet. He ducked, weaved between Brigayne’s arms and connected a heavy straight armed blow directly on his nose. The lord’s head snapped back and Victoria could hear a popping sound. There would be a broken nose and a concussion from that strike. Jack did not stop, but followed up with mini jabs at Brigayne’s’ neck and chest before landing another powerful punch on the lord’s jaw that snapped his head back so far his nose pointed straight up. Brigayne went down and was still. One leg twitched and Victoria watched from over Jack’s shoulder as a puddle of piss formed under Brigayne’s buttocks. That’s when she knew the lord was dead. Jack knew it too.

He put his fists down and leaned over the mezzanine’s rail. All the lord’s servants stood looking up at him in horror. The groundskeeper was there with his shovel, but he didn’t come up the stairs. Jack turned his head. All the doors on the next floor were closed and bolted. Outside they all heard the sound of galloping horses and shouting men. Victoria wondered if she needed to stay to watch any more of this. There was no place for him to hide, no place to run to. He had murdered Lord Brigayne in broad daylight in front of a dozen witnesses. She watched his face. She saw no regret. He then turned sad eyes down to the floor and she knew he was thinking of her. Of Maggie. Victoria tried to touch him. Her ghostly hands went right through his sweating body. As the sheriff’s men barged in through the front doors with rope and swords and one heavy pistol, Jack put his hands up and surrendered. Victoria covered her eyes. She did not want to see the rest.

But she had to. Even with ghostly eyes closed, she stood before the gibbet with every member of the village as Jack swung back and forth over the wooden platform. She tried to turn around, but he hung there everywhere she looked, hand and