Читать книгу The Virgins - Complete Boxed Set - Grace Goodwin - Страница 14

Cassie

He let go of me and I focused on his broad shoulders, the black silk of his long hair where he’d tied it at the back of his neck. I didn’t look at Mr. Anderson. I didn’t need to see him like that again, was afraid I’d never get the sight out of my memory. I listened to Maddox’s heavy footfalls as he approached the body, then stopped. I stared blankly at the wall, at the faded dark green vine and yellow daisy pattern of the wallpaper that had lined the hallway for as long as I could remember.

My mind longed for something to do, for the comfort of routine and I considered starting the fire in the stove, for it was well past six. My hands twisted together at my waist and I immediately dismissed the idea as a fool’s errand. There was no need to cook. No need for coffee or breakfast. Mr. Anderson was dead and did not require either.

Maddox turned to me and swept me up into his arms. I buried my head in his neck as he stepped over Mr. Anderson’s body and walked up the stairs to the first landing. When I was on my feet again he told me to stay close and pulled an oddly shaped pistol from one of his pockets. It was smaller than the revolvers I’d seen around town, and a bright, shiny silver, not black. I stared at the weapon, confused. I didn’t see anywhere for him to load the bullets. The sides were smooth and seamless, more like the rounded center of a pretty silver spoon than a weapon.

He left me at the top of the steps and I watched as he walked from room to room. He returned within a minute but in that short time my calm had been exhausted.

“What about the others?” I asked. “Mr. Bernot and Mr. Williams were here overnight.”

“The one with his hand on your ass stayed at the hotel last night.” His jaw was tight, the lines in his neck tense.

“What?” I was too confused to understand what he was saying. Of course, Mr. Bernot had not left us last night. “But he paid for two more days. In advance.”

Maddox shook his head slowly, his focus squarely on me. “I escorted him to the hotel in town last night after he dared touch you. He’s gone.”

That announcement made me nervous and strangely warm all at the same time. No one had ever really watched out for me before. No one had protected me from men with wandering hands or anything else for that matter. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson had done a fair job raising me, but there’d been no real love there. Not like I wanted. My mother had admitted to them that I was a bastard and pious Mrs. Anderson had never quite forgiven me for it. “What about Mr. Williams?”

“The older man in the second bedroom?” Mr. Maddox asked, tilting his head in that direction.

“Yes.”

“He’s dead, too. If it’s any consolation, it appears he was sleeping and was not aware when death came for him.”

And yet Mr. Anderson had been all too aware of his attacker and demise.

Shaking my head, I shoved past him and raced to Mr. William’s bedroom door. Still slightly ajar, the scent of blood hit me before I could push on the handle. I stopped, unable to swing the door open. I didn’t want to see more. I’d seen enough. And the smell—more blood—

It was then my stomach chose to revolt. I dashed down the hall to the back stairs and raced out the back door. Dropping to my knees in the grass, I leaned forward and promptly heaved up the pitiful contents of my stomach. It wasn’t much as I’d had nothing to eat since supper, not even coffee.

A shadow formed on the grass before Maddox squatted down behind me, his knees bracketing my body.

His hand went to the back of my neck as he reached around and offered me a cloth.

Wiping my mouth with it, I tried to catch my breath. “That man did this?” I asked, running my fingers over the tall blades of grass. “Neron? The man you’re hunting?”

“He did.” Maddox’s voice was deep and bitter. “This was another message. A much more deadly one and truer to his nature.”

“Why is this happening?” I took deep breaths of the fresh air, but the smell of spilled blood still tinged my nose. “Why did he do this? Was it because of me? I’m just a woman who works at a boarding house. I have no family, no beau, no prospects or even any money. I’m nothing.”

With an arm banded about my waist, Maddox scooped me up and spun us about so I was standing before him. With his fingers beneath my chin, I had to look at him.

“You’re not nothing,” he replied vehemently. “You’re my mate. You belong to me. You are not alone. What Neron did, how he slaughtered those two men—” he angled his chin toward the house, “—is exactly what he did to my sister. What he wants to do to you.”

My stomach lurched and I lost my balance, leaning heavily on Mr. Maddox’s steady arm. “Why? Why me? He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know anything about me.”

“He knows you’re mine, Cassie. He knows hurting you will hurt me.”

I jerked my head away from his hold. “Then leave! Go and take the danger with you. You made your problems, my problems. You had Mr. Anderson killed!”

He slowly shook his head. “Neron is a psychopath. He will kill anyone in his way. As for leaving, yes. We have to leave. But I told you I won’t go without you. I can’t.”

His jaw clenched and fine lines formed around his mouth and eyes as he lifted his head to look around us. He was comforting me, protecting me, and all the while that killer might be out there, watching us. But Maddox hadn’t left me behind. Even now he sheltered me from the wind with his body, risked his own life to stay beside me. “Is he still here? Watching us then?”

“No, Cassie.” The arm about my back gave me a reassuring squeeze. “No. He’s gone. He is evil, but not stupid. If he were still here, I would have killed him. He strikes and he runs like the coward he is.”

“Then if you leave, he’ll follow you. Everything will be fine,” I replied. Even I knew that nothing would be fine again. If Maddox walked away, I wouldn’t go inside and find Mr. Anderson trying to crack an egg. I’d find his lifeless body in a pool of blood.

“No, he won’t. Not now that he’s found you. You can’t stay here, Cassie. If I leave, he won’t follow me, he’ll follow you. He’ll kill you.”

I shook my head as my nausea was replaced with dread, a cold that turned my limbs to lead and made my mind go strangely blank. “You’re crazy. You’re both crazy.”

Hysteria unfurled in my gut like a dozen baby rattlesnakes had taken up residence in my stomach. My hands grew clammy and my vision blurred.

“You’re in shock, Cassie.”

“Shock? Yes, of course I’m shocked.”

His hands cupped the sides of my head and I looked into his pale eyes. It was all I could see as he spoke.

“No, your body is reacting to the trauma of witnessing the deaths inside. Breathe. Yes, that’s it. Again. Good, once more.”

When the black receded, when I felt calmed, he sighed and pulled me closer. I didn’t have the strength to resist, simply slumped forward and allowed him to press my ear over his beating heart. The steady, thumping rhythm soothed me over several long minutes. When I felt like I could stand on my own, like my body would, perhaps, actually listen to my commands, I pushed at him, ready to get moving. Ready to run.

I needed to get the town sheriff, but I didn’t know how to explain what had happened, who had done it. Someone would have to clean up the bodies—the mess inside. I couldn’t do it. Perhaps the sheriff, or some of the ladies from church?

Whatever was going to happen, I would need to keep my head about me. No more thoughts of kisses and mating. No talk of murder. No talking about implants and spaceships and other planets. Crazy talk wouldn’t get me anywhere. The sheriff wouldn’t believe any talk about men from… from somewhere else. Surely the boarding house belonged to me now, but what if Mr. Anderson had willed it to someone else? How would I survive? If I were left homeless and alone? I refused to entertain the idea of seeking work at Madame Maryanne’s in town.

I straightened my shoulders and weighed my options. So, I’d marry instead. I’d refused offers from two older gentlemen at church just last year. Both gentlemen remained unwed. Anything would be better than becoming one of Maryanne’s whores.

God. I must be in shock. My thoughts were so irrational and twisted.

“I… I have to get the sheriff,” I murmured, pushing away.

“You are coming with me.”

I looked up into Maddox’s eyes and refused to acknowledge the longing coursing through me. Maddox was dangerous and full of fanciful talk no sane woman could believe. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I have to go into town and get the sheriff.”

He shifted and we stood, but he kept his arm about me. “Forget the damn sheriff, Cassie. You have to come with me. You don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, I do,” I countered, crossing my arms over my chest. “And I choose to go to town.”

He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Why? Why? I keep saying the same thing. If you leave, he’ll follow. That is the logical conclusion.”

Maddox shook my shoulders, gently, just enough to force me to lift my head and meet his gaze. “And I keep saying the same thing,” he replied. “Neron knows that you mean something to me. If he hasn’t figured out that we’re marked mates, he will soon enough.”

I tried to wiggle out of his hold on my shoulders. “I’m not your marked anything. Let me go.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to. You’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m the only person who can save you. The only person in the world, in the entire universe, who belongs to you.”

I dropped my arms to my sides, the conversation seemingly futile. “No one belongs to another person. And I don’t believe that you’re from… from somewhere else.”

Lifting his free hand, he held it before me, palm out. There, in the same place as my own, was a birthmark that looked just like mine.

“It is a birthmark, Cassie. You’re right. But it has a purpose, connecting us together. It’s a mark that proves you are mine. My mark,” he said.

A mark. All this time I’d thought it something else, something benign.

Gently, he took my wrist and lifted my left hand up, looked at my own palm. “Your mark. They are in the same place and they are pulsing with heat. Mine is. Is yours, Cassie?”

I looked between our two marks, looked at the pale design I’d studied since I was a girl, at the raised flesh that had been innocuous to me. I’d always wondered about the odd birthmark, the hypnotic swirls. I’d never considered the scar might be something else until five days ago when the dreams began. The dreams. And Maddox.

When I didn’t respond to his question, he put our palms together and linked his fingers with mine.

I gasped as heat flooded my body from that small point of contact. My breasts grew heavy and my core clenched, aching for his touch. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest and I could not tear my eyes from his lips, his skin. My hand clutched at his, desperate for more contact. My gaze lifted and I noticed the pounding of his pulse at the base of his neck, the strained muscles of his jaw as he clenched his teeth, fighting for control. When I finally looked up into his eyes, the darkened irises, the intense desire I saw there stole my breath.

He believed every word he said. Did I dare believe him? How could I not when proof of our connection blazed through my body like liquid lightning? “I don’t understand any of this,” I whispered.

“I know. Your mother should have shared it with you when you were of an age to understand. You should have known your history, the truth of the mark should have been handed down to you, but you were orphaned and the truth died with your parents. I’ll tell you all about it, but now’s not the time. I need for you to trust me. Let me take you away from here. We must go to my ship where it’s safe. Nowhere else on this planet can I protect you from Neron, until I remove him as a threat.”

“Until you kill him, you mean.”

Maddox glanced back at the house and the image of Mr. Anderson’s dead body returned to me full force. “Does he deserve less?” he wondered.

“No.” If he was responsible for Mr. Anderson’s murder, he deserved worse than death. I wasn’t sure Maddox had some magical ship that would protect me, but I was convinced I would be safer traveling with him than remaining on my own. The rest? Our marks? This mating business? I’d figure the rest out later. I glanced at the house, dread like a cold finger tracing my spine.

“The ship is well hidden while we hunt. It is too far to walk. Do you have horses?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you agree? You’ll come with me?”

“But Mr. Anderson.” I thought of the man who had done his best to raise me, had lived through his wife and son dying. He’d been a good man and had been slaughtered. I was just going to leave him on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

“I’m sorry for the loss, Cassie. He—and the boarder upstairs—shouldn’t have been cut down like that. But you don’t want to be next. I refuse to allow it.”

I looked at him, the earnestness, the deadly intent lurking behind his eyes.

“Yes. But only until Neron is dead. I’m not coming as your mate… as you call me, and I’ll expect you to keep your hands to yourself.”

With an extreme act of will, I twisted my hand free of his, breaking our connection. The feel of his rough palm, the birthmark—no, the mark—made me ache to keep the contact. My thoughts and my feelings did not match. I couldn’t just succumb to the lusty need I had for this man, this stranger. I could not succumb to my newfound baser needs as my mother had. Desire was possible, and so were the complications. I knew nothing of Maddox, especially where he came from. He knew too much about me. I’d let him take liberties, intimacies that even Charles never had.

Maddox could possibly be unstable and he had a very unsavory man wanting to kill him. And me. I needed Maddox to capture Neron so I could get on with my life, return to the boarding house and run it myself. With Mr. Anderson gone, it was all I had, all I knew. My desire for Maddox, once he was gone from my life, would wither away. I just had to abstain in the meantime.

But he’d not been all hands and leering gazes like Mr. Bernot and some of the men in years past. While he’d kissed me—and what kisses they’d been!—he hadn’t been forward. Eager, yes. Pushy, no. I wouldn’t even think about how I’d eagerly accepted his advances. And so I pulled my hand away, breaking the connection, for my mind did agree with my body in that, at least. We did have a connection.

He did not attempt to stop me, but his shoulders relaxed and I wondered if he felt relief that I’d agreed to accompany him, or regret that he’d asked.