“You are a beautiful girl, duchess. I always did like the beautiful ones the best. Male or female, their faces contort in the most fascinating way.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, then back to the bag. “You are a treat. I am grateful…it will make this so much more pleasurable.”
Five more polished silver hand tools were lovingly procured—a curved double blade, a gutting hook, a sickle-shaped bone-saw blade, a flat straight blade, and lastly, the scalpel. It was the smallest of the blades, and it was the one that sent a glut of terror-filled bile into Aggie’s throat.
She panicked, breath out of control, all composure lost. Her feet started to push backward on the paper in front of her.
Her only saving grace was that his back was to her as he fidgeted with all the tools, fondling each dark mahogany handle, perfecting them into a straight line on the red velvet. “Yes, beautiful faces distorting. They are glorious. Ugly ones are already ugly. There is no joy, no accomplishment. But beautiful into grotesque.” He hummed to himself. “That is a feat…so much more fulfilling.”
Aggie managed to stop her feet and slow her breathing by the time he turned to her.
His cold white-blue eyes pierced her. “Where are they?”
“Where are what?” Aggie knew her voice came out as a tiny squeak.
“The papers incriminating me.” He stopped. Looking at her. Assessing her. “The papers that your brother sent home before his demise.”
Aggie let out an imperceptible sigh of relief. She knew nothing of papers. Jason had only asked for the panther. That was all she knew. She couldn’t have a weak tongue if she was ignorant of what Von Traff wanted. And looking at the row of sharp blades, she didn’t trust herself to keep quiet about anything.
“I do not know anything about the papers you speak of.” Her voice was much stronger now.
Von Traff smiled, pleased. “I was hoping you would say that.”
He turned back to the display of instruments and paused in deep consideration. His humming started again as his hands danced above the instruments. He picked up the very sharp, straight, pointy tool. He plucked the tip with his forefinger.
Von Traff looked at her, and Aggie could see the fear that flashed on her face thrill him beyond anticipation. He walked over to her and bent, his sputtering mouth next to her ear.
“You have given me a great gift, and I promise I will always savor out time together.” His sticky breath invaded the pores on her face, and she gagged at the sick smell. “I do want to enjoy this, so the longer you hold out, the better, duchess. Please try.”
He moved to stand in front of her, his eyes eating her body.
Aggie stared straight ahead, unblinking, trying not to be intimidated by Von Traff. As long as Devin and her brother were safely away from this madman, she didn’t care what he did to her. Now that Jason had the panther, he would have Von Traff in the gallows before he could harm Devin. That was what mattered. Here, this moment, she would just have to endure.
“I have decided to start with something simple. This tip.” Von Traff rubbed the point of the tool. “I will drive this tip first under each one of your fingernails, until all have been separated from your delicate fingers.”
He smiled as he looked her body up and down once more. “Then, before we put it away, it will be pressed into your left ear, until it pops membrane after membrane. I will leave your right ear untouched, for you will need to hear my demands.”
He moved the poker to his mouth, holding it sideways in his teeth as he gripped her arm and spun her half out of the chair, and she landed on one knee. He pulled a short, thick knife with a wide blade and a common, leather-wrapped handle from his pocket. The knife didn’t match the rest of the set. Slicing through the rope at her wrists, he seemed to neither note, nor care that the ropes were almost cut through.
He yanked her arm up, and his knee punched up into her gut. Aggie fell back into the chair, wind knocked out. Before she could suck in air, he tied her left arm to the chair’s armrest.
His arms caging her, he hovered. “I will ask you one more time before I begin. Where are the papers?”
Aggie couldn’t say a word. All she could do was shake her head.
Striking snake, he grabbed her right wrist, and clamped all her fingers inward. All except her pinky, which was wedged straight out in an iron grip. He pushed the finger onto the wooden armrest.
The humming started as he jammed the point of the tool slowly under her nail, ripping skin.
The pain was instant. Brutal. She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t writhe.
All she could do was shut down. Shut down everything in her mind.
Nothing could get in. Nothing could get out.
The pain existed. It was all that did. But that was exactly what needed to happen. Nothing in. Nothing out.
Waves of excruciating torture hit, refusing to yield. Neither did his words. More about the papers. Something about ear drums. Something about eyeballs. Something about nipples. Vague words, spotty, filtered into her brain, none of them taking root. She was blank.
The void continued until she realized she was standing, and his common blade was flat on her chest, tearing down through the fabric of her dress and chemise.
It clicked her mind back to firing, and she sucked in air, thrusting backward, only to hit the chair and fall back, her hands tied behind her again. When had that happened? The fabric fell away from her chest, exposing her in the most vulnerable way.
Von Traff snatched her upper arm, jerking her back to her feet. His face went in front of hers, appraising her eyes.
“You are back with me. Good.” He was sweaty. Sneering. His eyes went down to her breasts. “This is much better when you are aware.”
His blade came to her neck, sliding down along her skin until it stopped on her nipple. Cold. Aggie recoiled just enough to gain space from the sharp silver.
“Perfect. I should have started with this.” He laughed, vile. “All of these tools are going to travel up and down your body, slicing, carving your most intimate places. You will beg to tell me where the papers are.”
Repulsed, Aggie tried to dig her heels into the papers at her feet as he dragged her to the desk. She only managed to slip and fall, but Von Traff’s vice grip kept her upright.
He pushed her face-down onto the desk, hand on the back of her neck as she tried to kick from her awkward position.
The sound of the front door crashing open startled them both, but before Aggie could move, Von Traff gripped the back of her hair, jerked her upright, and clasped her in front of him. He instantly had the blade pressing dangerously into her neck.
It was the first thing Devin saw when he tore into the library, and it stopped him dead.
Aggie froze. She was half naked.
Terror filled her as she pleaded with her eyes for him to not believe the wrong thing about the scene before him.
He answered her fear without hesitation. “Let her go Von Traff—it is over. We have the papers.” Devin leveled his pistol at Von Traff’s head.
Aggie’s eyes flew wide. Devin had the papers? How had that happened?
“Do not bother with the empty threats, Dunway. I will kill her without the slightest bit of provocation, then use her body as a shield against your bullet.” To prove his point, he pulled the knife harder against Aggie’s throat.
Aggie shoved her head backward to avoid the blade.
“Very simple, Dunway, put the gun down and your wife doesn’t get hurt.”
Aggie watched Devin struggle for a moment, and then the blade on her neck start to separate her skin, warm blood seeping out. His eyes on her neck, Devin blanched and instantly set the pistol down on an upright table.
“Good, Dunway. Wise choice. I was not ready to kill her quite yet. I do like to enjoy their writhing bodies as their blood spills.” He smirked at Devin, and let go of Aggie’s hair, reaching around to crush her right breast, twisting the nipple.
Contorting at first to escape his grope, A
ggie realized his loosened grip was her opportunity. She kicked off from the ground hard, throwing her weight back away from the blade, and then dropped straight to the floor. The knife only nicked her chin as she fell. She rolled away from Von Traff as fast as her bound arms allowed.
It took Von Traff a critical second to react to the surprise move. But it was too late. Devin had already lunged at him.
Lying on the floor, Aggie gave thanks she hadn’t been killed by her stupid move. She craned her neck back to see Devin wrestling with Von Traff, trying to get the knife away. Papers and books flew in every direction as the two men struggled. Rolling to her knees, Aggie slid, slipped, then finally gained her footing.
Why in the world had Devin attacked him when his pistol was still lying on the end table? She ran to the desk and assessed Von Traff’s torture tools. The curved sickle tool seemed best. She spun, looking over her shoulder to see what she was grabbing.
Sickle blade in her blood-slippery hands, she fumbled with getting the blade on the rope, but once in place, the sharp edge made quick work of the binding.
Devin and Von Traff slammed into the back of an upturned couch next to her. Why hadn’t Devin disposed of Von Traff as easily as he could have? He was a master at slicing necks. She had seen that more than once. Was he hurt? What the hell was going on?
The struggling pair rolled, and Aggie caught a glimpse of Devin’s face.
It terrified her to her toes.
She had never seen Devin—or any man—so enraged. Was that what his father had looked like so long ago? Was this what Killian had said—Devin made stupid decisions in the name of his demons? Von Traff had grabbed her naked body and now Devin couldn’t even see straight.
Von Traff’s blades would do her little good, she realized, so Aggie tore across the room, ducking under the wild swinging of the two men. She reached the table with the pistol, checked for a bullet, and had it cocked by the time she turned to Devin and Von Traff.
She set her aim, the gun slippery in her bloody fingers, but Devin and Von Traff continued their savagery.
Von Traff still had the knife in his grip, swinging it wildly. Devin deflected all but one of Von Traff’s thrusts, and it cut across his forearm.
Catching eye of what Aggie had in her hands, Devin hit the floor, giving a clean shot of Von Traff. The gun slipped in Aggie’s hands.
The baron lunged on top of Devin with a thrust, but Devin deflected the blade from meeting his chest by sheer strength, holding Von Traff’s wrist suspended in mid-air.
Aggie froze at the sight of the blade above Devin’s heart.
“Aggie—now,” Devin yelled.
It was all Aggie needed. She fired.
Von Traff fell back, the bullet hitting his shoulder. But he still gripped the knife and was attacking again before Devin could gain his footing on the loose papers. Devin slipped onto his back, but then kicked out Von Traff’s feet the moment before blade hit flesh.
Von Traff slipped, falling heavy, face-down. He went still.
Devin got to his feet. Slowly, he stepped to Von Traff and kicked him over. Von Traff’s own blade had pierced his heart, the leather handle sticking out of his chest.
Both heaving, Devin and Aggie stared at the blood pooling around Von Traff.
Devin was the first to move.
~~~
“Hell, Aggs—” Devin rushed to her, gathering her in his grip. “What has he done to you?”
He pulled back, cupping her head in his hands, searching her face. “I am so sorry I—I never should have left you—it was stupid—I never should have believed—and then I didn’t protect you—I—hell—damn the bastard—damn me—are you all right?”
Aggie nodded numbly. Her eyes stayed on Von Traff’s body.
Devin tore off his shirt and wrapped it around Aggie, covering her naked chest. He lifted her wrist to remove the gun from her hand, and nearly threw-up when he saw her fingers. Through the blood, it looked like two fingernails were missing.
Fighting the need to suddenly dismember the body behind him, he instead picked Aggie up and walked out of the house.
Devin carried Aggie to his horse, purposefully turning her so she didn’t see the two bodies lying near the carriage that had brought her here.
He set her to her feet on the gravel driveway as he checked the saddle. It had begun to drizzle, and Devin swore under his breath. He wanted this to all be over for Aggie, and now they had to ride back to Stonewell in the rain.
Aggie stood, waiting, silent. He turned back to her, only to see wet splotches on her face. He couldn’t tell whether her cheeks were moist from the rain or from tears.
His knuckles brushed her cheek lightly, wiping some of the wet away.
“Aggs, I do not know what I would have done if…” He stopped, drawing a deep breath. “I love you, Aggs.”
She looked up at him, silent.
Brow knitted in confusion, Devin touched her shoulder and gave Aggie a little nudge. She blinked, looked to his horse, and asked flatly, “Ready?”
Devin paused, staring at Aggie. It was as brutal as a slap to his face. He willed her to acknowledge him. To return his sentiments. But she didn’t.
Silently, he lifted her up onto his horse’s back, and then joined her.
The rain came harder, and lightning flashed off in the distance as Devin set back to Stonewell. He tucked her into his bare chest as best he could, and tried to shield her from the pounding rain. She stayed silent.
Had he been wrong? Did she not love him? Was he a fool to have believed this whole time she was happy to be his wife, happy to spend time with him, talking, arguing, and laughing? Or had he ruined her love for him when he had so quickly believed she had betrayed him?
He stared down at the top of her head. Her blond hair was thoroughly wet, tendrils clinging to her neck and down her chest.
No matter what she had just been through. He had to know. He had to know if he was wrong about their whole time together. He had to know if he had ruined it all.
He pulled up on the reins, stopping. “Aggs.”
There was no response. Devin rubbed her arm, covered by his thin, soaking shirt.
“Aggie.”
Still no response. Devin squeezed her shoulder.
“Aggs.”
No response.
His bare neck prickling in fear, Devin reached to turn her face up to him.
Her eyes were vacant.
{ Chapter 21 }
A ceramic vase hit the wall, shattering.
Devin winced at the sound, his eyes not moving from the full glass of brandy he gripped tight in his hand.
Sudden thumping started, then stopped. Devin took a deep, calming breath. The noises of destruction had been getting louder and louder.
“For God’s sake, Dunway—I am going in there.” Jason started toward the study door again. “She will be hurt.”
Devin took one step to his left, directly in front of Jason’s exit, and put his hand firmly on Jason’s chest, effectively stopping him.
“She already has been. That is the point.” Devin glared at Jason. “So no, we will stay in here.”
Jason didn’t immediately back off, so Devin stared him down, wills clashing.
Taking a step back, Jason relented, went to the decanter of brandy, poured a glass, downed it, poured himself another, and then stomped back to the couch he had been waiting on.
A large thump, followed by what sounded to be the splintering of wood, broke through the momentary silence.
“You had better be right about this,” Jason muttered, still glaring at Devin.
Devin went back to leaning on the wall by the door of the study, staring into the amber liquid in his hand.
Yes, he had better be right about this decision. His immediate anger at Aggie for ignoring his declaration of love had shattered the moment he lifted her face to his in the rain.
The complete lack of emotion reflected in her face petrified him. There was nothing there. Nothing
.
It had only taken him a moment to understand. She was not ignoring him, she was in shock. Shock in all that had happened to her. Shock in all that was finished.
Then she opened her mouth, rain hitting her forehead. “I do not know…” Her voice had trailed off, unable to finish the thought she couldn’t formulate in her state.
But Devin understood. Or, at least he hoped he did. She had been too brave, too scared, too strong, too smart, too hard, too calm—too damn everything, for too damn long.
The last year had made her into steel. But if not tempered right, steel can be brittle. And Aggie had never had time to temper. She had never had time to grieve for all that she had lost. Grieve for her father, her mother, her brother, her lost innocence.
She had accepted all that was given to her and moved on, because that was the only way to survive. And she had survived. Survived with grace. But she had missed a crucial piece. She missed the grieving.
Devin knew what he had to do. He had to give it back to her.
So he had wrapped her tighter into his bare arms, trying to warm her against the rain, and hurried. They rode the remaining hours in silence.
Arriving at Stonewell, an anxious Jason tore Aggie off the horse, he was so relieved to see her safe. He swung her around, not even noticing her lack of emotion until he caught Devin’s face, which cued him to look at Aggie’s.
Jason’s concern was immediate. His sister was blank, and he looked accusingly at Devin. Devin shook his head, forcing Jason to back off as he pushed his hand between them, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her into the house.
Jason followed down the hallway, but Devin turned and told him to wait in the study. His voice gave no room for argument, and Jason did as requested.
Devin led Aggie further down the hall to the rarely used rose parlor, adjacent to the study. The room was only in use when Stonewell was full of guests, and was one of the most ornate in the house. A red-hued room, it had light burgundy rugs on the floors, floral curtains, red rose-colored couches and chairs, and a harp next to a pianoforte for entertaining in the corner. It also held countless artifacts passed down through the generations of the house—vases, tapestries, ivory inlaid tables, and a barrage of lace scattered about.
Hold Your Breath 01 - Stone Devil Duke Page 25