"This is crazy."
"I know. Believe me. I know. But I've got to go. My only hope is to get Jonathan out of the house while I'm here. Can you come tonight?"
"Yeah, but why wouldn’t you be there? Where are you going?"
"Nowhere, I hope.” She released her breath in a rush. “I love you."
“I love you too.”
“Are you on your way?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m getting up.”
She heard the rustle of her brother climbing out of bed. “Bye, Brad.”
“Bye.”
Erika hung up the phone and sucked in her breath. She had to hurry. Turning around, she came face to face with Mable watching her from the doorway.
"Mable," she said, trying to smile. "I thought you left hours ago."
"You shouldn't have done that."
"Then why don't you explain to me what's going on?"
Mable glanced quickly behind Erika. Erika turned her head just in time to see a tall, skinny man approaching her with an outstretched strip of red cloth.
Without giving herself time to think, Erika grasped the first thing that caught her eye. Her fingers wrapped around the silver handle of the fireplace poker. She lifted it just as the man lunged for her.
There was a thud as the poker punctured his overcoat and a cracking sound as it hit a bone. The coat hung over his back like a tent. Drops of blood ran down the poker.
He had skewered himself on the poker. The cloth fluttered silently to the floor.
He stared at her, his eyes glazed. With horror, she pushed him away as hard as she could with her end of the poker and he fell backwards. He collided with an end table and an antique lamp crashed to the floor. Then he slumped to the floor, motionless. Mable cried out and ran to her son.
Erika backed away. It had all happened so fast. Turning, she fled from the room. She had killed a man. But there was no time to consider that now.
Running up the stairs, she threw open Jonathan's door. She had to get them both out of here. Mable would kill him now, for sure.
"Jonathan! Jonathan, you've got to get up."
Her grandfather rolled over and reluctantly opened his eyes. They were pink with infection. Why hadn't she seen the signs of the poison earlier?
"Maybe later," he said, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes.
Hurrying to his wardrobe, she grabbed a pair of slacks and a shirt.
"You have to get dressed." She stuffed pillows behind him until he was in a sitting position. After a moment's hesitation, she started unbuttoning his pajama top.
"If you don't get dressed, I'll have to do it for you."
"All right," he said, "help me up. Is the house on fire?"
Throwing back the covers, Erika grabbed his ankles and slid them off the bed. She flinched at his cold, clammy skin.
Jonathan finished unbuttoning his pajama top and was struggling out of it.
"I have to get you to a hospital. Can you finish by yourself?"
"Yes. I'll be ready in a minute," he said, his head swaying dangerously.
"Okay. I've got to run, get dressed, and get my car keys. You wait for me here. I'll be right back."
She left him then, and hurried to her room.
Erika quickly struggled into the jeans and sweater she had on earlier. Yanking the brooch from her nightshirt, she stuck it in her pocket. Grabbing her purse, she hurried back toward the open door.
So far, so good. Her heart pounded and adrenalin swirled through her veins. She would have Jonathan to safety and would have plenty of time to worry about 1837 and Charles later.
Stepping into the hallway, she froze. Then fell back against the door. The muddled sound of voices and music filled the house.
The steady ticking of the grandfather clock drifted up clearly.
"No!" She cried and dropped to her knees in tears.
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Twist of Fate
Kathryn Kelly
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Hearts Under Fire Page 22