“I did it, Berking. Let her go.”
Berking maintained his grip on her hair, but his raging eyes darted to Alexander. A sneer stretched across his face. “Really, Ashton? You expect me to believe you had something to do with my plant going missing?” He wrenched her hair again, eyes back on her. “What did you do with it?”
“I tried to give it to the inspector, but he laughed at me. Said it was just a plant in a botanist’s garden,” Saffron cried, praying he’d believe her and let her be.
Berking let go of her and went to the other side of the room, glaring at her and breathing hard. “What else do you know?”
“N-nothing,” Saffron whispered.
“She doesn’t know anything, Berking,” Alexander said, his voice loud and brash. His jaw was set, eyes flashing. “You’re mad if you think that you and Blake will get away with this scheme.”
Berking’s nostrils flared. “What do you know of it?”
Alexander, indifference gone and replaced by a cold look of anger, said quickly, “You’ve been embezzling and want to pin it on Dr. Henry. Saffron had nothing to do with this—it was all me. I’ve been the one trying to figure it all out. Don’t touch her.”
Berking seemed to consider Alexander’s words. “I don’t believe you, Ashton,” Berking said quietly. He took a step over to Alexander and moved his chair, too, to face him.
Saffron’s stomach tightened at the sight of his darkening bruised eye, the blood on his face.
Berking’s voice was a venomous hiss in Alexander’s ear. “I don’t believe that you figured out where my aconite strain was growing. The two of you have been huddled up together—”
With a shocking crack, Alexander smashed his head into Berking’s. Berking fell back with a grunt, his body thudding to the floor. Alexander, still bound to the chair, struggled to his feet. Saffron tried to do the same but only managed to fall back and push her chair a few inches toward the wall.
Berking was already getting to his feet, blearily rubbing at his head. “You’re a dead man, Ashton,” he growled.
Saffron struggled against the rope. She had only a second to try to help Alexander do something, anything—
But Berking was on his feet. With a grunt of effort, he sent his fist careening into Alexander’s temple, the same place he’d been hit by Blake before.
Alexander fell, the back of his head cracking against the wood floor with a resounding finality that brought a cry from Saffron’s lips.
Berking stood, breathing heavily and gazing down at Alexander’s still form. Then, he laughed. The sound lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.
Saffron realized she was shaking all over, her teeth chattering in her skull. Blake was cold-blooded, and Berking a madman. Even if the xolotl didn’t kill Alexander and her, the two men would find a way to keep them quiet.
“Oh, Miss Everleigh”—Berking wiped a hand over his eye, turning to her—“it’s a pity Mr. Ashton won’t be awake to watch what happens next.”
Berking slowly moved to stand over her. A terrible smile stretched his features. His knee roughly shoved hers apart, and she cried out in alarm. He grabbed Saffron’s hair again and jerked her chin back, exposing her neck. With agonizing slowness, Berking ran a thick finger down the column of her throat. The furious gleam in his eye turned to something more evil.
Berking leaned forward, his hands settling on the chair on either side of her head, making her feel even more trapped than the ropes she strained against. “It could have been much easier, Miss Everleigh, and so much more pleasant for you if you’d accepted me weeks ago,” he said. “You might have even enjoyed it, but now …”
With a chuckle that made bile rise in Saffron’s throat, Berking stroked a finger along her collarbone. “Blake might be no nonsense, but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Such a delicate creature, just waiting for me to teach her why she can’t tell me no.” His finger trailed lower, taking the tie of her blouse and slipping the bow loose. Her attempts to jerk away from him were futile. His small eyes were locked on hers, enjoying the absolute panic he was causing.
“P-please,” she whispered.
Her ears rang so badly with alarm that she barely heard Berking’s next words, hissed into her ear. “Maybe I’ll wait, so Mr. Ashton can watch.”
Gasping, hands fighting the rope at her wrists, Saffron whispered, “No,please—”
Berking shoved Saffron back, making her head smack against the wall behind her and the chair wobble dangerously. He demanded with a terrible voice, “Then what do you know?”
“N-nothing,” Saffron whispered, eyes darting from Berking’s horrible face to the door. When was Blake coming back? Would he put a stop to this? It was ridiculous to hope for Blake’s return, so ridiculous she wanted to scream—
Good God, why didn’t she?
She drew in breath, but Berking anticipated her. He closed his hand over her mouth and whispered, “You don’t want to know how I used his method to improve my aconite yield?” He leaned forward until his hot breath was in her ear. “You don’t want to know how your father helped me create my poison?”
He leaned back to watch her face. The malevolence in his eyes caused dread to collect in her belly. Something in her eyes must have satisfied him, for his hand slowly released her mouth.
