The Tiger's Lady

by Skye, Christina

  And if her calculations had been wrong by even a hair, or if this area was as unstable as Ruxley said, then…

  She shoved down the thought, forcing herself to calculate the minutes elapsed since the last blast. Yes, it should be nearly time for—

  At that moment another explosion shook the cavern, much closer than the last. Ruxley spun about with a snarl and ordered the Indian off to investigate.

  In tense silence they waited, while his footsteps trailed away. Then they heard a low scream, followed by the crash of falling rock.

  Long minutes passed, but the man did not return.

  Ruxley shifted restlessly, starting to sweat. Clutching the ruby tightly to his chest he gestured for Hadley to investigate. After a moment’s hesitation, the white-haired man turned and disappeared into the tunnel.

  Pagan strained to sit up, wrenching at his leather bonds. “You’ll have no joy of it, Ruxley! It’s cursed, don’t you see? From the first man who ever touched it, the stone has brought only sorrow, betrayal, and violent death. Can you really want all that?”

  Ruxley smiled, his eyes lit with an odd, chill light. “Cursed, is it? But what about its powers, my old friend? What about all the dark fires it unleashes?” He laughed harshly, his eyes smoldering over Barrett. “My wife. My good, sweet wife. The one who was to change everything, to make me—”

  He broke off abruptly, his hands clenched around the ruby.

  “The one who was to make you capable of performing as a man ought? The woman who would excite the fire you’ve always been incapable of?” Pagan laughed harshly. “It will take more than a ruby to accomplish that!”

  Cursing, Ruxley swung about and drove the toe of his boot into Pagan’s face.

  “Stop! N-no more!” Barrett’s eyes blurred as she watched Pagan fall back against the stone wall, unconscious. “I—I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll—obey you. In any way. Just—just let him go!”

  Ruxley chuckled. “Such a devoted lover you make. Too bad you feel no such loyalty for your husband, slut.” Slowly he stalked toward her, his dark eyes lit with strange lights.

  Very carefully he lowered the ruby to Barrett’s unclad chest. He moved it slowly, tormentingly over her skin, all the time watching her face intently. “Do you feel it, my sweet? Do you feel the dark fires? The slow, deep tingling? They say it makes a man a legend—and a woman an animal.” He drove the stone against one pink nipple. “But we shall soon see, my sweet wife, what effect the ruby has.” He bent close. “And as for that nonsense about not knowing your grandfather’s formula, you can cease the charade. One of the servants at Cinnamon Hill saw you in the workroom when you were recopying your grandfather’s notebook. He was very obliging about all the details. Unfortunately, something he ate later did not quite agree with him. Such a pity.”

  “Monster!” Barrett hissed, wrenching wildly against the chill column at her back. Ruxley merely smiled, sliding the ruby over her body and murmuring odd, disjointed phrases.

  With each passing second her fear grew and with it came the old, churning nausea. She had been through all this before. She knew exactly what would happen next, how he would force her down and strain to prove his manhood.

  “You’ll never get it! Any moment this whole mountain will explode. The ruby will go up with it!” With a desperate sob, Barrett twisted and lashed out with her foot, knocking the ruby from her husband’s hand.

  The next moment Ruxley jerked her around and cracked his palm against her face. “No more tricks, bitch! I’ve lost my patience with you. With both of you.” His eyes were dark pools of madness as he retrieved the ruby and gently brushed a bit of dust from its face. “And now I mean to bring our little performance to a close. Relax, my dear. And show a little fire, why don’t you? By the glade you weren’t so cold.” His eyes gleamed at Barrett’s gasp. “Yes, Rand told me all about your wanton rendezvous with Pagan. I’ve always suspected you were a passionate little bitch beneath all those layers of clothing and propriety.” His mouth twisted. “You’re not wearing so many clothes now.” He slowly slid the ruby down her chest and skimmed her waist. “But I’d advise you to give up worrying about Pagan. He’s never cared the slightest about a woman, and I hardly expect he’ll start with you—not now that he knows you’re my wife.”

  Bile rose in Barrett’s throat. Dear heaven, the time was growing short. She estimated they had only three or four more minutes before Mita set off the next charge. What was she to do?

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ruxley’s native helper step silently from the tunnel mouth.

  “It’s about bloody time you returned,” Ruxley snarled. “What kept you?”

  The man bent down, checking the tension of Pagan’s thongs. His answer came back muffled. “An earthquake perhaps, lord. There were many boulders fallen in the large cavern. I was hit by one.”

  Ruxley gave a snort and gestured to Pagan. “Get some water and wake him up.”

  The Indian bowed and moved to a shallow, rocky pool filled with water. He took off his vest, immersed it, then carried it dripping back to Pagan.

  When the first, freezing drops hit the planter’s face, he muttered darkly and wrenched his head sideways.

  The next drops provoked an angry curse.

  And then he came fully awake, muttering and straining while blood flowed down his cheek.

  Barrett’s heart lurched.

  Would they never be free of this madman?

  “Let her go, coward! It’s me you’re after, me whom you should be fighting. Unless you’re too weak to face a man. I’ve always suspected you were the sort of slime who found pleasure in abusing a woman.”

  Ruxley sauntered lazily across the cavern. “Oh, it’s you I will be fighting, my dear Deveril. But not just yet, I think. Was she good when you had her? I had her too many times to count, you know. Only she was like ice, and every time she repelled me.”

  “It wasn’t she who caused your problem, you dung-eating swine! She is more woman than you’ve ever known and far more than you deserve!”

  “Ah well, it hardly matters, does it? For now I have your ruby and all its powers will be mine. I rather think you’ll enjoy watching while I take her, old friend. And I’ll have her cooperation when I do it, believe me.”

  Pagan laughed derisively. “No woman could desire you, you repulsive, shriveled little mockery of a man!”

  Ruxley’s face flushed with rage. “You’ll be sorry for that, St. Cyr. Bloody sorry!”

  Barrett watched in blind horror as Ruxley ground his boot over Pagan’s splayed fingers, crushing them to the stone floor.

  The planter’s jaw locked. His face hardened and sweat beaded over his brow.

  But even when the cruel boot rose and smashed down savagely, Pagan still said nothing.

  No more time! Barrett thought wildly.

  Suddenly she felt a cool current at her back and the feather-light touch of hands. Looking down in surprise, she saw Ruxley’s Indian assistant crouched behind her, silently loosening the leather thongs about her wrists.

  But though the clothes were the same, she realized that the face was different.

  This man was older, with leathery skin and strong, slender hands. His eyes gleamed as he raised a finger to his lips and stepped back, melting into the shadows.

  Who was he? And why had he set her free?

  Across the room, Ruxley finally lifted his boot from Pagan’s bloodied hand, laughing shrilly. “Won’t talk, will you? I suppose that means you won’t beg either. A pity. But you will soon, old friend. You’ll do all I ask when you see the things I have in store for my sweet little wife.”

  Dimly Barrett saw the slender little man work his way through the shadows toward Pagan. Hope rooted in her chest.

  She realized he would need a diversion. She wrenched against her bonds, sending the loose stones beneath her feet skittering noisily across the cavern floor. “It’s always the same grand talk, isn’t it, James? Always all the things you’re going to do, even th
ough you never manage to accomplish them. How very pathetic you are.” She laughed mockingly. “But why not try out the stone now? Or are you afraid, my dear husband? Afraid that even this magic has no hope of succeeding with a pathetic, malformed creature like yourself?”

  She smiled, choosing her words carefully, selecting the taunts most likely to goad Ruxley to fury.

  She had had weeks to learn what best fired his anger, after all. Though by now the bruises had faded, the memories were as sharp and clear as if they had happened only yesterday.

  Out of the corner of her eye Barrett saw the dark-skinned man inch closer to Pagan. Quickly she tossed her hair back and slanted her head in mocking invitation.

  “Did you really believe that I’d lost my memory?” She forced out a laugh as Ruxley’s eyes narrowed. “Merely one more proof that you’re a fool, James. Yes, it was all simply an act, an act to worm my way into the handsome viscount’s affections. And I was entirely successful, as you can see.” She paused, wetting her lips with exquisite care. “And it was worth every second of pretense, believe me. For Deveril is ten times the man you are or ever will be.”

  The barb struck home, just as Barrett had hoped.

  With a snarl, Ruxley sprang across the room and buried his fingers in her hair, tightening until waves of pain burned through her head.

  His eyes smoldered as he bent close. “Shall we find out, my dear? Right now?” With a shrill laugh he wrenched at her dress, driving the ruby cruelly against her naked skin. His other hand fell, struggling at the buttons of his breeches.

  Barrett’s breath caught in a gasp. All the old memories rushed over her, dark and blinding. But she faced them now, knowing this was her only chance to save Pagan. She slanted Ruxley a mocking smile. “Do you really think that stone can help you, James? When none of the other things could? Lord, but you’re still the same gullible fool, aren’t you? Only now you’re willing to kill for your fantasies.”

  Ruxley’s hand twisted in the shredded remains of her bodice, shoving wildly at the tangled silk. His face was deathly white, and his breath came fast and jerky. “Of course the Eye of Shiva will work! It is my guardian, my protector. And it will do my bidding without question, bitch!”

  Barrett bit back a sob as he wrenched the silk down her hips, jerking at the pantalets beneath. He was quite mad, she saw now. She only wondered that she had not realized it long ago.

  His fingers dug cruelly, pressing the stone into her chest and belly while he struggled with his breeches. Barrett felt the old numbing fear, felt the horror reach out and choke her.

  But she could bear no more.

  Not now, when she knew how beautiful it could be between a man and a woman.

  She heard Ruxley’s low hiss, and then the rustle of fabric, and realized he had freed his manhood. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to forget what would come next.

  The hard, clawing fingers. The harsh straining, the inevitable fury … And then the pain. The humiliation.

  A shudder wrenched through her. “N-no. No, I can’t—”

  Suddenly the hated weight fell away from her. No more cold, probing fingers, no more snarled curses.

  Dimly she saw Pagan rise up before her, his hand covered with blood. His eyes flashing, he lifted Ruxley into the air and slammed him back against the cavern wall.

  “You’ll lay not one stinking finger on her, you bastard! She’s mine now, do you hear? She’s safe from you! And if you even so much as look at her again, she’ll find herself a widow within seconds!”

  Cursing, Ruxley sank to the floor, struggling to dig into his coat pocket.

  Pagan seized his hand and wrenched away the concealed revolver. “I should have known. A viper never changes.”

  Barrett watched, white-faced, as the two men struggled for the weapon. Her anxious eyes picked out the signs of Pagan’s weakness, the combined effect of blood loss and whatever other torments Ruxley had inflicted over the last hours.

  Without warning she felt a soft hand at her shoulder. She spun about to see the slender Indian man gesturing for her to follow. She shook her head, refusing to leave until Pagan was safe.

  “The Tiger will be protected, do not fear, lady with the eyes of dawn. But you must leave now. I feel the ground tremble, do I not? Your friend is preparing the devil fire even now.”

  “But how did you—”

  “There is no time. Come now, or it will be too late, for all of us.”

  Barrett hesitated, torn between the certainty in his calm chocolate-colored eyes and her visceral need to stay with Pagan. But this strange man had saved her once, and somehow she believed that he would do so again.

  “Very well. But if he’s not out in five minutes, I’ll be back for him.”

  “If the Tiger is not out in five minutes, Yellow-hair, then he will not be coming out at all. Nor will we, I am thinking.” His teeth flashed snow white. “Exhilarating, is it not?”

  Hysteria clawed at Barrett’s mind. Had the whole world gone mad?

  And then the slender fingers were tugging her toward the mouth of the cavern and out into the darkened tunnel. Chill air rushed over her face and made her shiver. She stumbled, for the torches had all gone out. The result of Mita’s explosions, no doubt.

  “Which way now?”

  No answer.

  When she turned there was nothing but darkness and icy air.

  And then soft furry fingers tugged at her skirt, rising to clutch at her wrists.

  “Magic? Dear Lord, is that you?”

  Chattering softly, the monkey began to pull her forward.

  “I just hope you know where you’re going,” Barrett muttered.

  The last sounds she heard as Magic hauled her off into the darkness were the dull thump of a falling body, and Ruxley’s furious bellow of pain.

  The sound made her smile grimly and squeeze Magic’s hand.

  Stumbling, she made her way forward, reassured by the monkey’s soft chatter and confident pace. But only a few steps later Barrett felt the stone floor tremble. Almost immediately there came a muffled roar as another charge sent pieces of rock crashing down from the walls.

  The blast threw her back against the stone wall. Magic sank into her arms, trembling wildly.

  “It’s all right, little one. That was just to scare Ruxley. But the next one—dear sweet heaven, the next one…”

  And then she heard the drum of boots, followed by low cursing.

  Ruxley?

  No, she refused to believe it…

  She waited, breath checked, body frozen, flat against the chill stone wall. The drumming came closer, echoing from the tunnel.

  A voice then, low and soft. Sinhalese?

  “Angrezi?”

  Barrett’s breath surged free in a rush. “Pagan? Is it you?”

  Then the haven of warm, fierce arms, of lips hot and hungry.

  But only for a second. There would be time for that once they were safe.

  “Is he—did you—”

  “Kill him? No, more’s the pity. I found I couldn’t stoop to murder even for such a jackal as Ruxley. He fell and hit his head. He’ll hurt you no more, my love, I swear it. But the shaman—did he free you? I never thought—”

  Barrett cut him off urgently. “No time left. We must go!” White-faced, she clutched his hand and dragged him after Magic. “The other blasts were just warnings. The next one will tear this whole mountain in two!”

  Pagan’s breath caught in a low gasp. “Can this formula of yours really do such things? If so, I can see why Ruxley wanted it so badly. And how right you were to keep it from him.”

  “Oh, it can, believe me,” Barrett said grimly.

  Abruptly Pagan’s hands tightened on her fingers. He muttered a low, feral curse. “I’ll have to go back for him.”

  “But there’s no time! You’ll have only a minute—two at most. Maybe less, if I’ve miscalculated!”

  Without a word, Pagan turned, and Barrett felt her heart squeeze painfully. Why were
the choices in life never simple? Why couldn’t Pagan leave evil to its own end?

  But Barrett knew why: because that would make them no better than the evil they fought.

  And for that reason she made no attempt to restrain Pagan, though her heart cried out in the chill darkness and hot silent tears spilled over her cheeks.

  Hurry, my love, her heart called. So little time left!

  And then she heard the low drum of feet and a rain of angry curses.

  Ruxley! He must have regained consciousness.

  Pagan was at her side in a second. Catching her hand, he tugged her forward through the darkness, with Magic leading the way.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Sweat beaded Barrett’s brow.

  She had lived with the explosives since she was a girl, had seen her father’s experiments at close hand. She had even set off a few experimental blasts of her own, without her grandfather’s knowledge, of course.

  But Barrett had never expected to experience their deadly violence this close.

  Shivering, she stumbled forward, concentrating on the strength of Pagan’s warm fingers, on his body next to hers.

  The stone floor flattened. They began to run, twisting back and forth through the invisible tunnels.

  A gray oval opened before her and she caught the fresh green scent of flowers.

  They must be near the entrance!

  At the next curve, they broke into golden pools of light, cast down from a wall torch. Only inches away the waterfall surged over the cave entrance.

  “Hurry!” Pagan said urgently, dragging her forward.

  And then a tall figure stepped into the mouth of the cave, his craggy face oddly distorted. “You escaped.” It was a flat monotone.

  Pagan shoved Barrett forward. “The whole mountain’s going to go up, Adrian. You’ve got to leave!”

  Hadley’s eyes blazed with strange lights. “Not without the Eye of Shiva.” His rifle slowly fell, until its muzzle centered on Pagan’s chest.

  “Forget the ruby, Adrian! It’s gone. Let it go, or it’ll kill you too.”