“My, my … we are a spitfire,” Lawrence’s tone took on that of a father lecturing a child, “but a foolish one. You risk much with your sharp-tongued arrogance, the consequences for your behavior severe. It would be a shame to see your lovely face marred, and … worse things could happen, Katrina.” Lawrence’s threat had no affect on her, which left him confused.
Instead, Katrina mocked him openly. “Is this where I am suppose to swoon or faint dead away at your frightening insinuations? You’re a pompous ass, Langsford, and I find it amusing to toy with you and your son. Ah, I see I have hit a nerve. Are you furious with me, uncle?”
Katrina saw his self-control slip, but didn’t care anymore. Nine years of hate erupted like a dormant volcano, spilled out with no caution or fear.
“You are a murdering bastard, a greedy and lecherous coward, living on the fear of others. But you will find no fear in me; you killed it over nine years ago when you slaughtered my parents.”
Lawrence choked and Randolph paled, his mouth dropping open in shock. Katrina waited, ready for their reactions. The coach swerved precariously, the driver shouted and came to an abrupt halt. Katrina found the knife hidden in the folds of her skirt, grasped it firmly and waited. She glanced out the window to see the driver fall to the ground dead, his throat slit from ear to ear.
When she turned her attention back to Lawrence, he straightened his coat, unconcerned. “I couldn’t take the chance you knew I murdered your parents, so I have made arrangements for you, dear.”
The door jerked open and Katrina found herself staring at the scarred face of the man from the inn, Mack — the man who tried to rape her.
“I believe you two know each other.” Lawrence’s cruel, wicked laughter filled the air, just as it had done the night he killed his half-brother. “You are a dead woman, Katrina Easton.”
Instead of panic, a strange calmness filled Katrina, and when she smiled Lawrence actually grimaced, no longer cocky. “You thought me dead long ago, you son-of-a-bitch, but you made one mistake, you sent someone else to do your dirty work for you. I see you have made the same mistake a second time.”
Katrina kicked Randolph back with her foot and in the same fluid movement lunged for the door. When Lawrence reached for her, she slashed a long gash in his arm with her knife. Quick and nimble, she jumped from the carriage and bolted, lifting her skirts high to allow her freedom to move. She dashed around the corner of a nearby building and ran straight into Mack’s partner, the giant. Before Katrina could react Ralph grabbed her about the waist and covered her mouth with a rag. She struggled, but inhaled the drug, and slowly sank into unconsciousness, dropping the knife.
The giant carried Katrina back to the coach where Langsford waited. He dropped a bag of gold coins into Mack’s open hand and grinned, satisfied. “Remember, when her dead body is found, you will receive the remainder.”
He looked at Katrina hanging limp in the giant man’s arms and chuckled. “Unless this she-cat has nine lives, Katrina is a dead girl.” He touched her silken cheek. “What a shame you missed your chance to have her, Randolph. She really is a lovely woman.”
KATRINA’S EYES FLUTTERED OPEN but closed when the room swam about her, her head so heavy it fell back onto whatever she was lying on. She could hear mumbling not far from her, but she couldn’t make out the words. After several moments her eyes opened again, this time adjusting to the light and her surroundings. Her head pounded inside her skull, loud and painful as she tried to clear her muddled thoughts.
Dear God, Katrina thought in alarm as the haze lifted, it wasn’t just a horrible nightmare.
She stared in dismay at the two men across the room, realized the trouble she was in. This time she knew Blake would not rescue her.
Feigning sleep, she watched her captors from beneath her eyelids and noticed with satisfaction the gruesome scar on Mack’s face. It ran from his chin up to the corner of his mouth, across his cheek, and through his left eye, cutting his grizzled brow in two, leaving the eye useless. It rolled up and disappeared under the disfigured lid, leaving only the red-veined, yellowed white showing.
Katrina’s attention turned to the giant when he stood and moved about the room. The blow to Ralph’s nose left it permanently smashed, crooked and to the side. He walked with a definite limp, dragging his right foot behind him, and one shoulder hung lower than the other. Yes, these two had reason enough to hate her.
Katrina closed her eyes to rest. She wanted to be stronger before confronting her captors.
SHE AWOKE ABRUPTLY WHEN a foot prodded and kicked at her.
“Come on, bitch — it’s time you were up.” Mack delivered another swift kick, bruising Katrina’s ribs before she could roll away from him with a moan.
She peeked through half-closed lids and looked around. It had turned dark and a single lamp dimly lit the room. The giant remained occupied with a deck of cards, uninterested in his partner’s attempts to awaken her.
When she did not stir, Mack tried again. He leaned over what he thought was a sluggish and drugged girl. “Up with you, me patience is gone.”
Sitting up, Katrina brought her elbow around with all her strength and caught him right in the gut. He doubled over in pain, unable to catch his breath. She shoved him backward and sent him sprawling onto his backside. Struggling to her feet, she dashed for the door and before the clumsy giant could react, disappeared.
Katrina did not have any idea where she was, but, from the smell of it, guessed she was somewhere on the docks. She ran; the streets dark and empty. Most prudent people dared not wander about late at night in this dangerous area. She would find no help here. Hearing Mack’s yelling down the street, Katrina dashed into an alley. Littered with trash, she splashed through the sewage, and prayed she would not meet anyone or anything in its eerie darkness.
She stopped to catch her breath and decide which way to go but froze when she spotted the red, beady eyes of a huge dock rat before her. They continued to stare at each other, each waiting for the other to make a move. Katrina swallowed hard, her fear mounting as the shadows, changed by a passing cloud, revealed its tremendous size. And it was not alone.
Since childhood, she had abhorred the disease-ridden creatures, and for the first time in years, she felt genuine terror choke her. The rats sensed her fear and started to migrate closer. Katrina backed away, picking up a large stick from the mire to defend herself. With a quick glance behind her, she realized the alley dead ended. To escape, she would have to go past creatures the size of small dogs.
All the horrible things she had heard growing up flew through her mind; stories of giant rats killing humans for food. They were most likely false tales, but in her panic, she believed she would die, bitten and slashed to death by the filthy rodents. Abruptly, the rats stopped, distracted by the sound of drunken men passing on the street. One of the men stumbled into the alley and the rats scurried in every direction, one running over Katrina’s foot to brush against her leg. A scream escaped before she realized she made a sound. The others heard and started into the alley to join their mate who had finished pissing against the wall.
“Hey, sounded like a lassy, it did. Now, what would a split-tail be doin’ here?”
Another coaxed her, “Come out, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ t’ be scared of. How ’bout a li’tle havin’ bit of fun with me an’ me frien’s here?”
My God, screamed Katrina’s mind in despair. What next? She prepared herself with the stick as her only weapon and faced them, feeling more confident against a human foe than she’d felt only moments before when facing the beady-eyed kind.
“She don’t look t’ be so frien’ly, mates. A li’tle high an’ mighty methinks.”
“You would not want t’ hurt our feelin’s, now would you?”
Slowly, they crept forward, three against one.
“Come now lassy — put the stick down. We just want t’ show you a good time, we do.”
“Yeah, you’ll be thankin’ me later fo
r givin’ you the best lovin’ you ever had.”
He grabbed at his crotch in a lewd manner and they all laughed, licking their lips in anticipation, like dogs about to eat a juicy bone. Katrina’s stomach churned as she looked at the scum before her; one drooled as be babbled incessantly about what he was going to do to her. Finally, the nearest of the men lunged at her, but Katrina reacted with a fierce blow to the head with her stick, sending him reeling backward, blood gushing from the gash on his forehead. Surprised, the others paused and she took her chance to scuttle past them.
A pair of grimy hands snaked out and seized her arm. Katrina twisted and kicked him directly in the groin. He dropped to the ground, his howls of pain added to the ranting and raving of the one holding his head, the commotion loud in the quiet night. Katrina exited the darkened alley and glanced both ways when she emerged. To her right she saw scarface and the giant, alerted by the noise the drunks made. From behind came the third drunk, the others close on his heels. She ran to her left, five noisy men in pursuit.
The sudden clatter of horse’s hooves pounded down the cobbled street. She glanced back, a single horse and rider streaked past her pursuers, bearing down on her within seconds. With ease the man on horseback caught up with her and, leaning down, swept her up. Strong arms lifted her onto the horse before him and her only weapon clattered to the ground. Katrina struggled, but he had a viselike grip on her and to quiet her screams, he smothered her against his chest. He halted his horse and waited for the others to catch up.
“What is going on here?” he demanded.
All the men recognized Captain Grant Walker, well known around the docks as a smuggler and slave trader. With hooded eyes, Walker surveyed them, noticing the bleeding and stooped-over victims of the wildcat he now held in tow.
Mack stepped forward and spoke. “The li’tle bitch got away from Ralph an’ me. We were lookin’ for her when these blokes started after her. She belongs t’ me, Captain.”
“She didna’ belong t’ no one when we happened on her. She damn near split me skull with that stick of hers. An’ blame near busted Sid’s balls, she did. I say we share the bitch.”
Captain Walker’s laughter filled the still night, echoed off the walls of the empty street. “You mean to tell me five of you could not keep this little bit of a girl under control?”
His laughter mocked them, but none were foolish enough to say different. Deciding Katrina wasn’t worth the trouble, the three muttering drunks drifted off in search of some more ale and, perhaps, a more willing wench.
“Maybe you and Ralph should explain how you got your hands on this expensive piece of baggage. I’ll deliver her to your shack. Meet me there.”
Grant Walker looked down at the woman he held and nudged his horse into a gallop. Curious, he pulled her head back with a handful of hair and met darkened blue eyes spewing her indignant anger.
“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed. “No wonder they were lusting after you, woman. Despite the dirt, I can see you are a beauty.”
In minutes they were back to the place he knew she had managed to escape. Grant slid from his mount, keeping her well in hand. Once inside, he locked and bolted the door, whirled about just in time to miss her fist. He caught both wrists in one hand and shoved her against the wall to keep her feet from landing against his shins. Pressed hard against a hellcat squirming and fighting mad, he felt the flare of his own passions.
“Keep struggling and I’ll take you myself.” His words brooked no disobedience, and Katrina stilled, deciding submissiveness would serve her best for the moment.
“Now, if I let you go, do you promise to behave?”
Katrina made no attempt to answer but turned in stubborn silence away from his gaze.
“If you don’t promise, I’ll leave you to Mack and Ralph. I guarantee they will do things you’ve never imagined, and use you in ways a decent lady would find hard to bear. You would be worth a lot of money to me, and no matter what Mack’s reasons for having you are, I can buy you. Once you are mine, I’ll see no one harms you.”
Turning back to look at him, Katrina asked, skeptical, “And who will protect me from you?”
Captain Walker grinned, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I never use my merchandise, even when they’re as pretty as you. Should the need arise …” his pun made him chuckle, “there are always plenty of women in port willing to please me. Besides, I sell women for profit, yes, but I do not rape them. In Mexico, you would bring me a fortune.”
Katrina balked at being sold as a slave, but among her present choices, going with the captain was the safest course for now. A lot could happen between here and Mexico. It would give her time she did not have with Mack and Ralph. Her decision made, she gave her promise and Captain Walker released her.
Walker sat down and stretched his long legs out before him. He looked to be a middle-aged man, long and lean, fit from years at sea. Light blue eyes studied her and Katrina remained aware that beneath the casual manner lurked a dangerous man. His silvered hair and rugged sun-bronzed face might be considered appealing by most women, but she only saw a man who traded in human lives.
“Let your hair down.”
The command took Katrina by surprise and she merely stared at the man. “Go to hell,” she hissed.
“I want to see what I am buying, wench.” His own patience wearing thin, he snapped at her, “Do it, or I will do it myself.”
Abrupt and disturbing, Mack’s scarred face flashed across her mind. Hesitant, she obeyed and removed the few pins left in her hair.
Grant smiled as it fell to her waist in a shower of gold, the lamplight glistening off the lustrous curls. He stood and stepped closer and walked around her, deliberate and slow. Each step in his inspection blue eyes flashed angry and proud. He lifted a handful of her hair and smelled the faint hint of roses. From the cut of her dress and her speech, he believed her to be a lady, but something different also struck him. Perhaps the defiant tilt of her chin, or maybe the way she looked so calm and unafraid. When he had gone full circle and stood in front of her again, she met his gaze, steady and defiant.
“What is your name?”
“Katrina Easton.”
“How did you end up here?” Grant asked, his question blunt and to the point.
Katrina pondered what to tell him, the truth or a lie. Deciding on the truth, she answered, “I was married yesterday to the son of the man who murdered my family over nine years ago to steal our estate. He paid to have me kidnapped this morning, and it is my understanding, to kill me.”
Walker raised an eyebrow in amusement at her attitude — she seemed to have not a care in the world. “It should be simple enough to get Mack to sell you to me.”
“I doubt that,” she replied matter-of-factly.
Confused, Walker asked, “Why not? I know Mack to be a greedy son-of-a-bitch. For gold he would do anything.”
Katrina shrugged her shoulders, feigning disinterest in his opinion. “Maybe so, but by killing me, Mack and Ralph will also achieve some personal satisfaction.”
“You talk of dying so casually, Katrina. Don’t you fear what they would do to you?” The captain continued to watch her face for some signs of emotion. The lack of it, for some reason, disturbed him.
“No, I don’t fear them,” she said, and he believed her.
A banging on the door interrupted Walker, and he turned and yelled, “Quiet, damn it, lest I lose my patience with you two.”
The noise stopped and Katrina could hear Mack grumble, but he did not disturb the captain again. This made her more cautious; a man who could control filthy scum would be formidable.
“Now, why would that ugly bastard want revenge from someone as lovely as you?” Curiosity gleamed in Walker’s eyes.
“I ran into Mack and Ralph another time. They tried to accost me, but I managed to get away.” It was not a pleasant memory and Katrina paused, uncertain about revealing more.
The captain prodded her, unwilling to let her leav
e it alone. “That certainly isn’t any reason to kidnap and murder you. Tell me, I would know what happened.”
She remained silent for a moment. Deciding it made no difference one way or the other, Katrina told him. “They followed me with two others to the inn where I stayed and broke into my room while I slept. They tried to rape me; they may have intended to kill me, I don’t know. Mack’s scar and Ralph’s limp are the result of the attack. But they were luckier than the other two who died.”
Walker laughed. “Bloody hell, you’re a little spitfire, aren’t you? If I hadn’t seen some of your handiwork on those drunks out there, I’d find it hard to believe you. You’ve got more meanness and guts than most of the men on my ship.” He threw back his head and laughed again, long and loud. Luck was certainly with him tonight. What a gem he’d found.
His humor only irritated Katrina. “Now what?” she snapped.
“Patience, little girl; losing your temper with me isn’t wise,” he chided her.
Katrina stood before him, hands on her hips. “I am not a little girl. You, Captain, are no better than Mack and Ralph, and I will do whatever I can to be free of all of you. You sell women for profit, and to me, it makes you the lowest of bastards.”
Walker seized Katrina in a sudden move; her sharp, unyielding tongue caused him to lose his temper. He threw her down onto the mat and fell on top of her. Pinned beneath him, he captured her wrists in one hand and jerked them above her head. Furious now, he pulled out his knife and held it against her neck, the blade cold against her flushed skin.
“So, I am a bastard, huh? You still think so?” he whispered, his face only inches from hers.
“Yes,” Katrina spat, feeling the blade dig into her tender skin. “You are a filthy, low-down, scum of a bastard.”
Amazement and then a wicked grin spread across his face, and he chuckled. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Since I am a man of ill character, I should take you myself, and leave you to the curs outside.”
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