Clamped in a painful embrace, I sailed off my feet. Mortis slammed me face-first onto the table. Crockery exploded, shards and dishes skittering across the floor. Pain erupted through my midsection.
“Release me, you bastard,” I screamed, rearing back, butMortis pressed harder, his weight crushing my hips into the wood.
“Not until you admit you belong to me, Serafina.” Rough hands grabbed at my legs, tearing at my layered skirts in frantic jerks. Revulsion forced bile up my throat. I’d rather die than let this cretin violate me.
My grasping fingers flailed across the debris-strewn table—ceramic shards, spoons, splintered wood. Searching. Searching. Metal gleamed in the corner of my eye. Cookie’s carving knife. Praise the fates. I wrapped my hand around the hilt and swung with every ounce of strength left in me.
Mortis caught my wrist mid-arc.
“No!” I seethed. His grip was iron, twisting until white-hot pain shot up my arm. I cried out as the knife slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor.
“So, that’s how you want it?” Mortis snarled, his rancid breath heating my cheek.
Angry hands wrenched me upright, bruising my shoulders, flinging me onto my back. My vision swam, then focused. Lust and rage contorted his face.
I swung. Pain rocketed from my knuckles up my wrist. Blood spurted from Mortis’ nose, and he unleashed an unholy roar. Before I registered his intent, his arm drew back and slammed into my gut.
Once. Twice. Three times.
The last drove the breath clean out of me.
At first, I felt nothing, staring blankly at his snarling visage. Mortis stepped back, and I slid off the side of the table, hitting the floor in a pile of ruffles and lace. Warmth spread across my belly, wet and hot.
The steward loomed over me, chest heaving, spittle painting his mouth. “Look what you made me do.”
In his white-knuckled grip was the knife I’d lost. The blade was slick, crimson dripping to the floor.
I pressed my hand to my stomach and raised it before my blurry eyes. My fingers glistened red. “You stabbed me,” I murmured, detached from the world.
Mortis staggered back, knife still trembling in his hand. His chest heaved, eyes glassy with unshed tears. He thrust an accusing finger at me. “You did this. You tempted me. You always tempt me. Flaunting yourself like–like—” His words broke into a wild laugh. He raked a hand through his hair, gaze darting like a trapped animal’s.
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll never know.” His voice dropped to a frantic mutter, as though he spoke only to himself now. “Yes…yes. They’ll think it was the invaders. Her body torn apart… who would question it? No one. No one will know.”
Body? But I wasn’t dead. Though the psycho who stabbed me considered my demise a foregone conclusion. He continued to mutter on his way out the door. His footsteps faded, leaving only the echo of his madness behind.
I shook my head to clear the fog. There was some place I needed to go. Heavy limbs jutted from my torso, and I forced my legs beneath me, shoving my exhausted body off the tile. Pain ripped through my stomach, and I cried out, certain I was being torn in half. Once I made it to my feet, I grasped the worktable to keep my balance.
Hot trickles ran down my hip, soaking into the lace and pooling in my boot.Think, Sera. Think. You’re the healer’s apprentice, after all.Yaga would be so disappointed in me if I bled out on the kitchen floor.
My fingers clawed at the absurd ruffles weighing me down. I tore a length free, the rip loud in the cavernous kitchen, then pressed a towel against the wound. My vision spotted, but I managed to wrap my torso, cinching the ends into a rough knot. It would have to do.
“There. See. You can do this.” I shuffled around the worktable. “Just get to the door before you collapse. Simple.”
I’d hardly walked two steps when the kitchen door exploded inward. Wood splintered, the metal hinges screaming. The slab of timber crashed to the floor, and I froze, every muscle locked in place.
Two skeletal faces pushed through the ragged opening.
“Curse my life,” I groaned, tears welling. “Just once…once could I catch a break?”
The first creature had to duck to clear the frame. His shorter partner skulked closely behind. Their leathery nostrils flared, predatory creatures tracking prey. Daggered teeth clacked together, scraping out odd chirping sounds, communicating. The smaller one dropped into a crouch, stalking in the opposite direction.
I backed away, hands out, fearful that any sudden movement could incite them to attack.
They’d blocked the kitchen door, leaving me with one way out—through the main hall—straight into chaos. Which meant, whether I liked it or not, I’d be the decoy Lady Richwell intended. Penelope would be delighted.
Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
The sound rattled from behind. No! I darted a glance over my shoulder. A third creature, its vacant eyes glowing, crept down the stairwell, cutting off my retreat.
