Thud. Thud. Thud.
The strike of a rifle on marbled floors, the echo magnifying the sound until it was an assault.
Lord Kilworth stood by the entrance.
His walk was slow, predatory, stopping steps before the water. Kilworth didn’t look at the lake, nor at the magnificence of this room carved from marble. The blood continued to trickle from his ear, marking his collar red.
He lifted the rifle, the barrel pointed toward Mrs. Van.
“Where is the Saint’s whore?”
Leena’s fingers tightened around her pistol. She had one bullet left. She could not miss this time.
Mrs. Van didn’t lift her hands to plead. She merely stood there, posture unwavering, cheeks sunken and hollow. “I told her to leave me.”
Kilworth laughed. “It will be my pleasure to find her next, then. After I rid this world of one more demon.”
At his words, Leena stepped out from behind the statue, still unseen. Sweat slid down her back as she lifted her arm.
“You were once Percy Avon’s servant, weren’t you?” Kilworth spat, covering the click of the pistol unlocking. “Any inkling of where he has hidden it?”
Leena paused, gun held aloft.
“Hidden what?” came Mrs. Van’s stoic reply.
Kilworth’s laugh was sharp and acidic. “You may have lied to your master, but you will not lie to me, demon. The Limitless Vessel. Where did Percy hide it?”
Mrs. Van stared at him, chin lifted—unanswering, unmoving.
The Limitless Vessel?Leena didn’t have a chance to dwell on Kilworth’s odd ramblings. The gun was heavy in her hands—
St. Silas’s words came back to her with force—aim two inches above your target…toward the heart.
This time, Leena pointed the barrel toward Kilworth’s scapula.
His Lordship’s entire attention was fastened on his prey as Leena again fired the gun.
When the bullet implanted itself in Kilworth’s chest, forever severing the connection between heart and arteries, His Lordship’s gaze was still fastened on Mrs. Van.
He didn’t scream.
By the time his body fell into the black waters, Lord Kilworth was already dead.
Leena’s eyes remainedfixed on the lake, but Lord Kilworth did not rise.
A sudden nausea gripped her, so strong that she bent down and vomited forcefully. After a moment, she rose up shakily and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“It is done,” Leena stated hollowly. She didn’t know if she wanted comfort from the other woman or confirmation.
Mrs. Van responded evenly. “Aye, but it had to be done.”
Leena turned away from Mrs. Van, beginning to walk back the way they’d come.
Several weeks ago, Leena had been in a starkly similar position: both times pointing a pistol at a man. She was so heartily glad that she’d lowered the gun during that first episode, that she’d spared St. Silas’s life, just as she was glad she’d had the nerve to fire this time.
As St. Silas had once told her:Survival is a sordid business.
Kilworth had his burial—just not underneath the ground.
