He stalked toward her with a handkerchief in his hand.“I’d hoped you’d come along easily, but I’ve waited too long for my revenge.”
He lunged for her.
She shrieked but didn’t move fast enough.
One arm wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her while clamping the damp handkerchief over her mouth and nose.The sweet smell turned her stomach and made her head buzz.She scratched and kicked but couldn’t get a breath to scream.Blackness shrank her world, then her arms and legs stopped obeying.Soon, even his devil grin faded away.
Eleonora shifted on something hard and moaned.Her throat hurt.Her head hurt.Even her eyes hurt.And her body, why was it so heavy and tingly?
“Mummy.”Her throat scratched and barely a whisper came out.
The aching whine that usually brought Mum running to her side did nothing.
Behind her, someone rattled about like they were working with a stove, and the distinct smell of burned food tainted the air.Oh no.Mum must be cooking, which meant Father was gone or sick too.
Eleonora moaned extra loud as she rolled toward the sound.Acting wasn’t only for the stage, although she really did feel bad ...just maybe not bad enough for the volume she forced.She blinked against the yellow lantern light that peeked through the gaps in the loose hair over her eyes.Scuffed black shoes turned from the iron feet of the stove and into a glob of something thick and wet.Ewww.She was lying on a filthy floor, not a hard bed.And those were a stranger’s shoes, not Mum’s or Father’s.Father kept his polished and clean.
The man pressed his glob-covered foot against her shoulder, forcing her to roll back and look up at him.The fake beard was gone now, but there was no mistaking that devil smile.He was real, not a bad dream she’d left behind.
“Good.You’re not dead.At least not yet.”He dug his fingers into her arm and dragged her toward the other side of the room.
“Let me go!”
When he didn’t, she bit down on his dirty hand.
“Why you little—” He struck the side of her face, leaving behind a burning sting.“Stop that, and no crying or I’ll kill you before your mother gets here.”
She quit fighting, but she couldn’t stop the tears as he dragged her along.Something sharp stuck up from the uneven floor and scraped down her leg until it caught on her hem.He yanked to break her free of the snag, and her shoulder screamed almost as loud as she did.Finally the fabric tore, and he swung her into a corner.
“Sit there and be quiet.”He squatted and coiled a strand of her loose hair around his finger.“At least until I need you, then you can wail all you want.The more your mother suffers, the happier I’ll be.”
Someone knocked on the door.
He dropped the strand and rose to his feet with a growl.As he crossed the room, he grabbed a gun from the table.“Not a sound, or I’ll shoot you.”
Eleonora curled into a ball and wrapped her cloak around herself.What could she do now?A gun meant he didn’t have to be near her to hurt her.Think.She bumped her head against the wall.You have to think.A hairpin scraped against her scalp, and she winced.Then blinked.If a hairpin could hurt her head, maybe she could use it as a weapon if he came close again.Keeping her eye on the man’s back, she pulled the painful pin free and hid it within the folds of her cloak.
The door creaked, but when she looked up, the man had only cracked it and blocked whoever it was from view.“I thought we were meeting at the bridge.”
“Our plan’s ruined.They went to the police.She won’t be coming.”Anger burned in a woman’s voice.
The man glanced at Eleonora.“What do you want me to do with her?”
“Make her suffer for Katherine’s insolence, but be quick about it.You haven’t much time.Leave her body where it will be found.I want Katherine to know that her choices led to her daughter’s tortured death.When it’s done, lie low until I contact you.”
But Katherine wasn’t her mum.Constanza Brisbane was.They’d taken the wrong person.
The door shut, and he faced her, his cold glee freezing Eleonora to the spot.
“I never thought I’d be the sort of special wretch to torture and kill a child, but ...”He made a show of cracking his neck and then popping his knuckles, all the while moving toward her.
Eleonora curled tighter into her corner, slipping the U-shape end of the two-prong hairpin over the crook of her finger so it would be easier to jab.It wasn’t much, but it was all she had.
He crouched before her.“You look so much like your mother, I’ll just pretend you’re her.”
Eleonora whimpered.
He smiled as he ran a hand through her hair again and twirled the end.“So many ways to hurt you and so little time.”
