Catch Me in Castile (26 page)

Never mind. I have waited this long, a few more minutes shall not matter.

She climbs the narrow stairway. Looking out the window for his familiar figure, she studies every shadow. The wind howls through the opening and circles about her. Long strands of her black hair lift and dance with each gust. The candle she holds flickers. Shadows move menacingly across the dark walls. A shiver runs up her spine. Her senses prick up, alert.

What was that?

Standing very still, she listens. Hearing only the wind, she laughs to herself.
Andrés would surely think me silly. Scared of my own shadow and the howl of the wind.

She leans over the window ledge slightly, longing to glimpse his powerful stride moving across the grass toward the tower. She sighs, content. One day soon they will be married. Pressing her hand to her heart, she feels the racing beat in her chest. The corner of her eye catches a wisp of movement, barely more than the fluttering of a moth behind her. She turns.

Too slowly.

A large rock, meant to crush her skull, smashes between her shoulder blades. Air explodes out of her lungs from the blow. Flying forward, she lands with a heavy crash on her right hip.

She lies where she fell, shocked, gasping for air, not understanding. Nothing makes sense. And then she hears the voice from the shadows.

I’ve been attacked.

My back and hip hurt so badly. Did I break any bones?

My eyes strained to see my attacker. It was so dark in the tower it was hard to see anything. The flashlight Marta had given me had been knocked out of my hand and clattered across the floor.

How did I let this happen?
I mentally kicked myself. Images of robbery, rape and worse flashed through my head. Why had I come up into this tower alone? I was trapped. The familiar panic started to pop and snap in my chest. I had to focus my thoughts to get out of this alive. Ignoring my bruised hip, I forced myself into a crouched position, squinting to see.

There was only one way out—well, two if you counted the gaping window. That was not an option. My attacker blocked the only viable escape route. I had to think of something—and fast.

The dark figure stood still. Watching me. Waiting for something. But what? Keeping my eyes on the silhouette, I squatted down, groping for the flashlight. I touched it.

“You are such a monumental bitch,” a voice sneered.

I couldn’t believe my ears. I actually recognized the horrifically altered voice. When the laughter echoed off the stone walls, I fell back on my butt.

Mierda
, this was bad.

“Santiago, what are you doing here?” She blinked in surprise.

“I’m here to eat dinner with my girl at our favorite restaurant.” He scanned all the crowded tables and frowned. “Where’s Erin?”

“She left.”

“What do you mean? She was supposed to wait for me.”

Marta clutched her breastbones. “She got a message to go to the tower. It wasn’t from you?”

The floor fell out from under Santiago. And his heart stopped.

“Oh, dear,” Marta said. “I warned her not to go. She seemed so frail. I didn’t want her hiking up into the dark tower. They don’t have good lighting in there.”

Santiago didn’t stick around to hear more. Dying a thousand deaths, he raced back out the restaurant doors and jumped on his bike.

As he sped through the darkening streets, his mind screamed.

Why is this happening again?

He’d never been so powerless. So utterly bereft. He saved lives every day, but the one woman he loved more than life itself was in danger because of him. He’d broken his promise never to leave her alone. Foolishly, he believed she would be safe if he got her away from Salamanca. He was wrong. Dead wrong.

He knew now, beyond any doubt, the darkness was gunning for the women he loved.

First Cristina and now…

No. He wouldn’t allow the thought to materialize. Erin would be all right. She had to be. Dear God, he couldn’t lose her.

Tears flew out of his eyes as he weaved around cars. He was topping a hundred on crowded streets, ignoring the angry car horns blaring all around him. Adrenaline shot through his veins. Griping his gut was a sickening feeling he wasn’t going to make it. Too much time had passed. Opening the throttle, he sped on toward the Alcázar.

Dear God, no,
he pleaded over the whine of his motorcycle,
I can’t be too late
.

“You have no right to speak.”

“I do not understand.”

“I am not surprised. Stupid sows are good for only one thing.” A large knife was waved in the air. “To be slaughtered.”

Serena’s blood turns cold when the candlelight flickers off the sharp blade. She backs up until her shoulders graze the wall. There is nowhere to escape. She has no weapon, only a candle, the light of which plays across a menacing face.

Serena gasps. The features she knows so well distort with rage and madness.

My little flashlight was not going to be much good against that frightful thing. But maybe…

I began to formulate a plan. A flimsy plan, which had to work. Closer and closer danger crept. Not too slow, or fast. I readied my weapon, took aim and shined the flashlight in the eyes of my assailant. A millisecond later, I threw my “weapon” at the startled face and made a run for it.

I almost made it, until a foot shot out and tripped me. Just as I was falling to the floor yet again, the blade slashed upwards, ripping through my left arm.

I cried out in agony.

It was the most extreme pain I’d ever experienced. I screamed again and again. I’d have screamed for days until a sharp kick to my temple banged my head against the floor. The last cry strangled in my throat.

As I clutched desperately to consciousness, I fantasized it was all a dream. Nothing like this could possibly be happening. The vision of the assailant’s face flashed through my head like a poster from a horror movie.

I knew who it was.

She has to stop this madness. Yelling for help does no good. The music from the ball below is far too loud for anyone to hear her. Leave it to the marquesa to continue an engagement party sans the man-of-honor. Serena’s only hope is for Andrés to reach her in time. Yet she hugs her knees to her chest and prays he will never come. Above all else, she does not want him hurt.

“What are you doing? Praying for my forgiveness?”

“Why are you doing this?” Serena asks.

“By my witness, you should have known the truth long ago.”

“What truth?” Serena’s body grows lighter. She has to get help quickly. “Please. I am badly injured.”

“You do not deserve the Marques de Moya.”

“Andrés?” Serena’s heart surges. “What about him? Tell me! Have you hurt him?”

“Hurt him? How can you be such an idiot?”

“You are angry. Let us bandage my leg and speak later of these things.” Serena’s eyelids grow heavy. She closes them just a moment…to…rest.

“No. You must die. For all you have done to me.”

Serena’s eyes open. “What have I done to
you
?”

“You have robbed me of my heart’s desire,” the figure snarls.

Serena takes a breath of relief. “This is a mistake. I do not know what you have been told, but I have not robbed you, or anyone, of a thing.”

“You imbecile, you stole my love. My title. My life. Andrés would be in my arms this very moment, dancing at our beautiful engagement party, if not for you.” She blows air forcefully through her lips. “With you gone, Andrés will be mine.”

“You love him?”

Suddenly, things make sense to Serena. When she was a girl facing a difficult problem, Mother Catarina would tell her to look at the situation from a different angle. Sometimes turning puzzle pieces upside down made them fit. At that moment, some very disturbing pieces came together.

“Are you forgetting Lady Mara? If I am…gone, Andrés will marry her,” Serena says through quivering lips.

“That stupid burro? Andrés will never marry her. She is moments away from being thrown out of the castle on her fat arse.” She laughs at the funny image in her own mind. “No one can stand her. I myself have despised Lucia Mara for years. Which is why I recommended her to Aunt Beatriz as the perfect bride.”

“It was your idea for Lady Mara to wed Andrés?”

“A few well-placed comments here and there. It was the perfect arrangement. Aunt Beatriz thought so too. She had her own reasons. Mine were pure. It was the only way, do you still not see?”

Serena stares in disbelief.

“I shall make it simple for you. Lucia was the shield to protect my beloved from those gray eyes of yours. You bewitched his heart. If Andrés and Lucia were engaged, you would no longer be a problem. Simple as that. Then once he threw her out like the refuse she is, he would be free to love me.” She raises the blade. “I am the only one for Andrés.”

It’s shock
, I thought to myself.
I’m going into shock
.

I’d lost too much blood. My limbs were heavy. My head was spinning. The desire to close my eyes was more powerful than PMS chocolate cravings.

She squatted in front of me. “Santiago and I are a team. Just the two of us. No one else allowed.”

I was sickened by the way she turned the knife over and over slowly, mesmerized by the sight of my blood dripping down the tip of the blade.

“He protects me. I protect him.” She shot an accusing look my way. “I would never leave him. Or stop loving him.”

“You think I’d hurt him?”

“Let me see.” She tapped the knife handle to her temple. “Um,
yes.
Name ‘Jack’ ring any bells? How about the other guy—Andrés—you are always moaning about in your sleep?”

“Look, I don’t really know Andrés—”

“Shut up! I’m sick to here with your lies.” She waved her hand over her head. “You can’t have him, you’ll break his heart. And turn him against me.”

“I wouldn’t.”

She rocked on her haunches. “Just like Cristina, the tramp. Why don’t you look her up, she’s probably saved you a nice little spot in hell.”

“You killed her?”

An ugly grating laugh exploded from her lips. “Let’s just say she got what was coming to her.”

“Santiago sent you away—” my heart broke with the weight of my thoughts, “because he knew?”

“No. He understood I had some sort of breakdown, true enough. He sent me to the quacktor Martin Lawrence at UCLA.”

Dr. Martin Lawrence. He was the renowned psychiatrist Dr. Stapleton was always gushing about. He had developed some new medicine to help with schizophrenia. He was also the Martin who left the message to run. Now I knew why.

She was truly insane. And deadly. Why hadn’t I seen it earlier? Was I so wrapped up in my own problems I couldn’t see hers?

My head seemed to be floating off my shoulders. I needed to do something quickly, or I’d die listening to the ravings of a madwoman.

“Martin and his pills,” she said with disgust. “Always trying to get rid of the darkness. But I like the darkness. The power. You felt it.” Her eyes flared through the blackness like an animal’s. “When you drove the car into the building, the power overtook you, right? I thought we had that in common.”

“Maria, help me. I’m hurting—”

Her hand shot up. “Don’t call me that. Maria was your friend. She wanted to bring you to the power. But you’re not worthy. You lied and stabbed her in the back.”

“Come on, Maria, please—”

“No! I am a goddess now. The Goddess of Death. Here to exact my revenge.”

“Andrés,” she sighs dreamily.

Hiccupping laughter, like the braying of an ass, awakens Serena fully.

“What…are you doing?” Serena whispers, her thin voice almost gone.

“Pushing you out the window,” Clara says.