If this was victory, it tasted remarkably like ashes.
Interlude
After he left, she was so drained that she could scarcely move. She fell into a mercifully dreamless sleep, then awoke with a jerk. How much time had gone by? With so little of that left to her, she shouldn't waste any. After achieving his satisfaction, he had told her with cruel glee precisely what her fate would be. The next time he came, it would be for her life.
Yet what could she do except pace frantically about her plush prison? She had looked for weapons before, but her captor had taken care not to furnish the rooms with anything that might be dangerous. The heavy furniture was bolted to the floor; her cutlery was made of soft, easily bent tin; and the plates and cup were of pewter, which could not be broken into sharp pieces.
She could use the thong of one of the heavier whips to try to strangle her adversary, but she doubted that she had the strength to overpower a grown man. Even if she did, she would be unable to get past the guard who waited outside. She would try, of course, for she would not go tamely to her death, but she had no illusions about her chances of success.
Her gaze fell on the nasty little whipping toy. With sudden rage, she raised it above her head and smashed it to the floor. Then she crushed the figures beneath her booted feet. If only she could do the same with her captor…
A thought occurred to her, and she knelt to study the pieces. A number of metal gears had been ex posed. She lifted the largest and tested the sharp-toothed edge. It was hardened steel. Used carefully, it should be able to rasp through wood.
She surveyed her three rooms thoughtfully. Ah, the bedside table. Given enough time, she could cut through one of the legs. When it was loose, she should have enough leverage to wrench it free of the bolt that held it to the floor. If not, well, she would cut the leg off a couple of inches above the floor.
She sat cross-legged by the table and grimly went to work. When she was done, she would have a club heavy enough to bash a man's skull in. That wouldn't be enough to free her, but if she was going to die, she would damned well take her captor with her.
Chapter 35
Cleo was slow to answer her door. When she did, she was laughing and her blond hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders. Seeing Lucien with Kit, she hastily pulled her green velvet wrapper more closely around her. "Cassie, my dear, you're up early this morning," she said in a voice pitched to carry to the back of her flat. Her speaking glance said that she had company. "I'm afraid this isn't the most convenient time for a cup of tea. Shall I come down for a good gossip later?"
Kit said, "We've come to speak to Lord Ives. Is he here? We think we know where my sister is being held, and he might be able to help us."
Cleo's eyes widened. "God be thanked." Raising her voice again, she called, "John, you have visitors."
A coatless Ives emerged from the bedroom, looking mildly surprised. When he saw who was waiting, he smiled and gave Kit a polite bow. "Strathmore, Miss James, what a pleasant surprise. I trust you are well."
"I'm not Cassie James, I'm her twin sister. She's been abducted, and I've been pretending to be her for weeks," Kit said bluntly. "I hope you can help us find her."
Incredulously, he said, "There are two of you who can perform like that?" He scrutinized her face for a long time before giving a slow nod. "I see. Come sit down. I suspect that this might be a long story."
Actually, Kit's description of Kira's disappearance and her own impersonation was brief because she omitted the most interesting details, such as her stalking of the Hellions and the fact that her sister had been located with a pendulum. She didn't even mention her stint as a barmaid, when she had whacked Ives with her bust improver. Since he hadn't recognized her, the subject was best left unmentioned for the sake of his dignity.
After she had outlined the situation, Lucien took over. "We think that Cassie is being held at Castle Raine in Berkshire. Am I correct that it is the site of the Hellion gatherings?"
"It is." Ives gnawed his lip unhappily. "You really think one of the Disciples has abducted her? Surely none of them would need to do anything like that. They can all afford as many women as they want."
Lucien said tersely, "There are men who prefer unwilling women. There are others who will not take no for an answer."
Ives's face become grave. Kit guessed that he was remembering comments that confirmed what Lucien had said. Looking up, he said simply, "What can I do to help?"
"We need to know as much as possible about Castle Raine," Lucien said. "For example, are there dungeons underneath?"
"I believe so, though I've never seen them," Ives replied. "The Disciples have a private sanctuary for their secret rituals. Lesser Hellions like me were never allowed to see that, but I think the entrance must be somewhere behind the chapel."
"Do you know anything about their ceremonies?"
"Not really. However, another junior Hellion stopped by the castle one night because he fancied seeing the ruins by moonlight. He left when he heard a woman screaming." Ives ran his fingers through his hair uneasily. "He thought that he must have imagined it all. He had been drinking, and that place is enough to give one odd fancies. But perhaps he was right."
"When did that occur?"
"Last sumrner. Around the end of June, I think."
Before Kira had been captured, Lucien thought with relief. But it raised the ugly possibility that other women had been victimized in the past. Since none had ever come forward to accuse the Hellions, the chances were that they had not survived the experience. "How does one get to the castle?"
After Ives had given a precise description of the roads nd turns, Lucien asked a series of other questions. However, apart from some details of the layout, he learned nothing that he had not observed himself. At the end he asked, "Do you know if there are any guards there?"
"I believe there is a watchman when it is empty," Ives aid. "Also, you might not have noticed the one time you attended, but at the Hellion banquets there are always several male servants dressed as Turkish harem guards. They're called eunuchs, though I'm sure they aren't. Actually, they look like boxers who had retired from the ring. They would make good guards, but I expect they're only there during services."
"I hope you're right." Lucien got to his feet. "Thank you for your help. I don't suppose I need to say that you must not mention this discussion to anyone."
"I won't." Ives stood also. "I assume you're going to Castle Raine to try to find the real Cassie James. Do you need another volunteer?"
"Thank you, but no. I've already enlisted several friends."
Ives glanced at Kit. "Is there is any chance of you and your sister performing together?" he asked. "It would be a night to remember."
She shook her head. "The moment she is free, I'm retiring from the stage permanently."
They said their farewells, then left the flat and went lown to the carriage. When they were inside, Lucien muttered, "I wish you weren't going to Castle Raine with us."
"I have to be there to find Kira," she pointed out. 'If the ruins are extensive, you might never find her without me."
"I know. That doesn't mean I have to like it."
Though her expression was troubled, Kit said lightly, "Why are you worrying? Remember, we have Michael, he warrior angel, leader of the hosts of righteousness, on our side."
Lucien gave a lopsided smile. "True, and there's no reason to expect trouble. We should be able to break in and get your sister out easily, but one never knows. I don't like the idea of exposing you to possible danger."