by Anne B. Cole
Anya blinked. Victor hovered for another second. She gasped when she saw two hands holding Victor under his arms, two hands with ringed fingers.
“Hello, my dear,” Kadir Hatay drawled as he tossed Victor face down to the floor. He placed one boot on Victor’s back and removed a long, curved sword.
Anya couldn’t find her voice to scream. The pirate gracefully reached over, turned the key that was in the door and then pocketed it.
“What’s this all about? My Anya is stealing?” Anya’s eyes widened as he continued. “Stealing is very bad. Does the American not provide enough that you must turn to theft?”
Anya refused to answer.
“Ah,” Kadir began, “the American passed his filching, lying ways to his wife. Allow me to clarify. Lorenzo stole from me, rum I believe. So, I had to teach him a lesson.” He rolled his eyes. “The fool did not learn. He then stole my book, stole a cursed treasure, and, finally, stole my ship.” He stumbled backwards. “I killed him for that.” Kadir suddenly appeared dazed and confused.
Anya crept to her feet. He was drunk. The open window granted a possible escape.
“Somehow he lived, and then the American had the nerve to steal you from me.”
Anya shook her head defiantly, “Lorenzo paid for me.”
Kadir snickered, “I stand corrected. Berk stole you from me. Lorenzo paid for you. He treated you like a slave, little more than a who—”
Before he finished, Anya slapped him. Without flinching, Kadir grabbed her hand, drawing his face to hers. “You’re mine now.” He traced his fingers down the side of her face, filling her with hatred.
“I’m not yours.”
Kadir laughed before deliberately squeezing her left wrist. Anya gasped as the mending bones shifted grotesquely out of place. “Lorenzo will hear how much you enjoy your new life with me.” He removed a sash from his waist and tied her hands together.
Anya spat in his face. Kadir twisted in anger. “Not nice.” He wiped the spittle from his cheek then licked his fingers. A smile spread across his face. “Delicious.”
Anya screamed.
“Now you did it.” Kadir quickly gagged her with another sash. His smile faded and his eyes took on a glimmer of wickedness. Anya shuddered as his hands touched her cheek. She cringed as they left her face. Kadir held her down, tearing her dress. She fought back, but he slammed her head against the floor. Darkness surrounded her. Unable to make her body move, she drifted into unconsciousness.
‘Run,’ a voice inside her head commanded. Light returned as fear coursed through her body. She had come to her senses, but the pirate’s strength made it impossible to escape. His breath smelled of rum. Anya stiffened when he shifted his weight.
“Now, Anya, you’re mine.”
What did that mean? What did he do to me?
A hand appeared, gripping the pirate’s hair, pulling his face from hers. Anya watched a dagger flash at his throat. A ripping of flesh cut through the air. The dagger flew across the room; its jeweled handle clattered on the hard dirt floor. The room wavered, but an awful metallic stench brought her focus back. Warm blood poured over her face and neck. With a gurgle, Kadir went limp. Hands dragged his body away. Blood stung her eyes, seeped into her mouth, and gagged her. The man with the black curly hair removed the sash from her mouth. Anya shrank away, horrified.
‘Run,’ the voice screamed inside her head.
Victor was dead. Kadir was dead. Anya struggled to get up. Pain shot through her wrist as she wiped blood from her eyes.
Fear took over. She had to get away from this man, away from the dead bodies, away from this place. Anya scrambled to her feet and finally obeyed the voice inside her head. She ran.
Chapter 22
Gretta Entwined
Where are you Sam? Desperately trying to leave, Gretta’s mind raced. I didn’t go to Tatiana. I went to Anya. What if Sam had been with Lorenzo? He was so distraught when he said goodbye to Tatiana. No, he cannot be with Lorenzo. Sam said he would never leave me.
Gretta’s fear of possibly being raped, of the awful blood, of witnessing death, grew within her. It was all too much; so she focused on the ring.
I know the curses, all of them. Luck, Love, Longevity, and Hell. Victor damned Lorenzo and Anya. Her thoughts returned to Lorenzo. He would not return to Milos until January, past the Christmas deadline Roxana had set. Sam promised he would never leave me. He has to be somewhere in Milos.
Gretta considered possible scenarios. What if Sam had been with Peter or the man with the curly black hair? She became unnerved. Or Victor? No, Sam would never have allowed Victor to strike Anya with either his hand or his belt. Kadir? Gretta trembled. No, Sam had to be out there somewhere. Filled with panic, Gretta took refuge in Anya’s flight.
Chapter 23
The Cliff
Anya ran uphill, pushing harder and faster, even when her lungs screamed for air. She had to get away from the store, away from Kadir, Victor, and the man with the curly black hair. Her feet brought her to the cliffs. She stopped at the highest point, at the edge that urged her to her death. Lorenzo was going to die, and so would she.
‘Don’t jump!’ a soft voice in her head cried.
Anya shook her head and inched forward. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The sun warmed her face. She felt him, felt Lorenzo’s touch on her cheek. Mama’s visions were always accurate. Lorenzo would die, and she would be there waiting.
Anya pushed off. Her feet left the ground, but instead of falling, she flew sideways and hit the ledge.
A scream escaped her lips as the man with the curly black hair landed hard beside her. She scrambled to get away, yet he clutched her left arm. When his grip slipped to her wrist, she heard herself shriek in pain. He released his hold. Clutching her wrist against her side, she crawled back to the edge. Death became more desirable than ever.
“Lorenzo’s my friend,” the man exclaimed as he grabbed her foot. “I’ll let you go if you promise not to jump.”
Promises no longer mattered. Anya felt she could make it to the edge when he did not expect it, so she commanded her body to stop fighting. The man slowly released his hold. As he scanned her torn clothing, his face wrinkled. The look on his face burned into Anya’s mind. She darted to the cliff. Instantly, her face met the ground, filling her nostrils.
“I’m Theodore DeMascala. I helped Lorenzo when his ship burned.”
Anya shook the soil away. The man spoke in Greek with an Italian accent. Lorenzo had said Theo was from Malta. Lydia’s fears of being abandoned abbreviated Lorenzo’s story. He had never relayed that Theo was the man with the curly black hair.
‘Run,’ Anya’s mind demanded. She wanted to escape, wanted to die. Theo would permit neither. Anya curled into a ball, squeezing her eyes shut, blocking everything out.
Anya woke, finding herself on a blanket with another blanket draped over her. It was dark. No longer bound, her left wrist was wrapped firmly against a narrow, flat rock by strips of cloth. It appeared swollen but straight. As she sat up, the blanket fell away. Dried blood encrusted her dress. Panic filled her.
“Careful, your wrist.”
Her head snapped up at his voice. Theo sat close. She wasn’t sure but thought he wore a different shirt. Did he leave? He must have set my wrist. He touched me. Fear rippled through her body.
Theo’s eyes softened. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I brought you food, water, and clothing.”
Before he could say more, Anya scrambled to a bucket filled with water. Cupping a shaky hand, she drank. Blood. Anya tasted Kadir’s blood. She retched violently with every bit of strength she had. She felt her hair being drawn back from her face so she lurched away. Theo stepped back.
The water beckoned her. She had to get clean. Ripping off the bottom of her chem
ise, she scrubbed her face with it. Anya had to purify herself from Kadir’s blood. She was so engrossed with cleaning that she didn’t realize Theo was behind her, not until he gasped. Anya froze as her tattered dress slid down one shoulder.
“He beat you.” Theo’s words sounded in her ear, barely above a whisper.
Anya whipped around, thrusting the bucket of water between them. He eased back. Her desire to be clean overcame her prior need to end her life and any sense of modesty. Setting the bucket down, Anya peeled off her dress and tore her chemise for another rag.
Theo handed her a clean one. She scrubbed the blood off her arms. The cloth turned dark red. Anya threw it to the ground. Theo held out another, which she snatched, and washed her face and neck. Filth. Theo held another. Anya tore off the remnants of her shift and threw it down.
Never once did he look in her direction. It didn’t matter; Anya had to get clean. She scrubbed her hair, shoulders, every inch of her body until not one speck of blood remained. Over and over Theo held out clean cloth.
Anya didn’t look up until she was finished. Theo sat beside the bucket, shirtless. Bloodied scraps of cloth were scattered all over the ground. A clean dress lay beside him. Pieces of a second shift were beside the bucket. Anya eased into the dress then knelt on the blanket. Theo slowly moved toward her. She bristled as he buttoned the back of her dress. When she glanced at him, the moonlight glinted on a gold chain and crucifix about his neck. The comfort this brought her quickly faded for his olive-colored skin was terribly bruised. Someone had hurt him recently. Frantic, Anya scanned the area.
“Don’t be afraid. Alec knows you’re here.”
Anya pointed a shaky finger at his neck.
Theo touched the crucifix. “I fear God, no man, only Christ, my Lord. I will not let anyone harm you.” Anya shook her head, pointing to her throat then to his.
Theo’s voice softened, “Alec is strong and very angry. He thought I was with Kadir. I promised him I would protect you. He will surely kill me if I fail.”
Anya had no doubt Alec would kill him, but she didn’t care. She was not afraid of dying; she was afraid of living, living with the shame of being attacked.
“Kadir Hatay is dead. He can never hurt you again.”
Her eyes flashed, full of malice. Theo’s words struck hard. She wondered if Kadir had hurt her? She had no recollection of what happened. Tears burned in her eyes.
“I could bring Lorenzo back. I will follow his navy ship. When they port I will find him, tell him you were . . . terribly frightened,” Theo stated cautiously. “We could plan a staged kidnapping. Lorenzo would be willing. He would do anything to come back to you.”
The words, ‘terribly frightened,’ made her pause. Anya touched the back of her head, finding a large knot. She remembered blacking out before Theo arrived, before all the blood.
Anya gazed toward the sea then down at the rocks, trying not to think of what might have happened. She concentrated on Lorenzo. If he never went to America, maybe he would not die.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Theo edge close enough to reach her if she jumped. She had to have something to hope for, without hope she had no reason to live.
The eastern sky began to brighten. Her dress and remnants of her slip littered the ground. Strewn everywhere were filthy, bloody reminders of Kadir.
The sound of a spark and a tiny explosion caught her attention. Theo held a lit lucifer. She had seen sailors use them to light their smokes. Kadir had used one to light the metal ball before he threw it at the Kalliste. Theo tossed the fire stick on the dress. It went up in flames. He gathered all of the bloody rags and threw them into the fire. Together they sat in silence and watched it burn. Soon everything was gone except for the horrifying memory.
“I’ll find Lorenzo.” Theo pushed the ashes around with his boot until all the embers were black. “A new day is here. Alec is tending to your mother. They’re concerned about you.”
Anya’s heart pounded, yet she began to walk. Theo followed, not too close, but never more than an arm’s distance away. She stopped at a bluff above the village. People were about, far below.
Theo stood beside her and said, “When we arrive and I know you’re safe, I’ll search for Lorenzo.”
Anya stared at Theo, really looked at him. He was about an inch shorter than Lorenzo but stronger; his shoulders and arms were more defined. His dark eyes matched his dark curly hair. He seemed older, twenty five perhaps, determined and ready to take on the American Navy to bring Lorenzo back to her. She wanted to thank Theo, but movement far below caught her attention.
Alec left the house. He unlocked the store for two customers. Anya’s head began to spin with images of Victor and Kadir.
“It’s all right, Anya.” Theo’s low voice should have been soothing, but it wasn’t.
‘There are two dead men in there,’ her mind screamed. She watched as another entered the store. Theo blocked her view. She forced herself to calm down, to gain control. Theo waved as Alec exited the store with a customer. He saw them and started up the path.
Anya backed away from the town, away from Alec, and away from the store. She stumbled over a rock, landing hard on her shoulder. Theo reached to help her, but she shrank from his touch.
“Stay here.” Theo hurried down the path, walking with a slight limp. He conversed with Alec. Anya buried her face in her arms, not able to remember what Kadir did to her, not knowing what Theo had relayed to Alec.
Several minutes later, footsteps sounded. Theo set a sack down and opened it. Anya watched as Alec trudged back to the store. Her stomach flipped as he closed the door behind him.
“The bodies are buried. Everything is clean. Alec told people you escaped from Kadir and that Victor died protecting you,” Theo encouraged.
She glared at him, remembering how Victor beat her. Without thinking, she touched her shoulder where her skin still seared from the lashing.
Theo frowned in concern. “Kadir cannot hurt you again.”
Frustrated, Anya shook her head. Theo’s look of pity reappeared, followed quickly with anger.
“Kadir will never hurt anyone—”
Anya shook her head forcefully, cutting him off. She stared into Theo’s troubled eyes.
“Victor? Victor beat you?” Theo asked gently, but she knew he was angry. He leaned closer to her, too close. “You must tell me. Did Victor—did he hurt you as Kadir had intended?” Theo’s face pinched in fury but held firm.
Intended? Did that mean Kadir didn’t rape me? Anya knew Victor didn’t so she shook her head.
Theo took her by the shoulders. Anya cringed from his touch but didn’t pull away. Her body stiffened then trembled. Theo released his grip, yet left his hands on her shoulders. His eyes widened in pity, in a realization. “Before I arrived, did Kadir hurt you?”
Not able to remember, Anya stared at her feet.
Theo lifted her chin. His expression changed from pity to anger. “They both deserved to die.” Anya wasn’t afraid of Theo anymore. She was just afraid. “I will tell Alec what Victor did to you, how he beat you.” Anya shook her head. “Victor is being hailed as a hero.”
Anya continued shaking her head. Victor had been a family friend. What he did was done in a drunken rage. She did not want him shamed.
“Anya, Alec told me you’re strong.” She looked into Theo’s eyes and saw her pitiful reflection. “It’s all right to cry,” Theo whispered.
Anya took in a breath as tears flooded her eyes.
Theo held her in the shade of an olive tree. He never spoke. Her cries turned to sobs when the tears ran dry. Anya trembled uncontrollably until she drifted off to sleep.
With Lorenzo, Anya felt safe and happy. She gently placed her head on his chest, taking in every precious moment. Feeling his hands tighten
around her, she leaned up and tasted the sweetness of his lips.
“How long have you been awake?” his voice sang in her head.
“All night,” she heard herself say. His kisses trailed away from her lips, down her neck. Taking a deep breath, she smelled liquor. Had Lorenzo been drinking? Victor? Anya pushed away, but he was too strong.
“Tasty.”
The voice was not Victor’s. Anya gasped as two ringed hands touched her face, confirming her fear. Kadir tore her dress. Anya screamed. Nothing came out. She screamed again, but there was only silence.
Kadir grabbed her and shook her hard.
Anya’s third scream rang loud.
Theo shook her by the shoulders. “You’re dreaming. Wake up, Anya.”
Theo? His hand touched her forehead then picked her hand up. Theo studied her wrinkled fingertips.
“You need to drink.” He abruptly moved away. Anya gasped in fear, needing his support. Theo poured water into a tin cup. He raised her head and placed the cup to her lips. Anya drank it all. He filled the cup again. She lurched away from him as her stomach rejected the water. Every drop came back up.
“That was stupid of me,” Theo stated bitterly. “Try again.”
Anya refused. He wrapped an arm around her, touching the cup to her lips. She took a little sip, holding it in her mouth. She didn’t remember swallowing before she took another.
“Good, rest.” He set the cup down. Desperately thirsty, she wanted more, but Theo held firm.
Together, they spent the remainder of the afternoon in the shade of the olive tree. Despite her fear, she began to trust Theo and managed to keep a cup of water down.
“How do you feel?” Theo sounded concerned, not irritated.
Anya peeked at the store and then back to Theo. ‘Go,’ the voice in her head urged.