Authors: Christina Skye
“Grandfather! What—what have you done to him, you gutless, contemptible—”
Ruxley smiled coldly. “The old man proved to have a weak heart, I’m afraid. He just wasn’t up to Creighton’s questioning, it seems.”
She flew at him like a crazy thing, her hair wild, her eyes raw with grief and rage. For a moment she felt the joy of Ruxley’s shins beneath her flailing feet. And then he seized her by the neck and threw her back against the cold stone wall.
“You’ll pay for that, bitch! Before I’m done you’ll—” Then he cut himself off, cursing furiously. “But not quite yet.” His cold eyes slid over Barrett’s stunned white face and heaving chest. “As a matter of fact, the old fool told Creighton nothing of any value. But by the time Creighton realized he’d been duped, your grandfather was gone, spirited off by one of the servants at Cinnamon Hill, no doubt. Which leaves only
you,
my sweet wife. And soon you will be spilling every fact in that pretty little head of yours, believe me. Unless you’d care to see Pagan’s other eye carved up neatly.”
Barrett’s stomach lurched, but she fought for control. At least her grandfather was safe. What she needed now was a cool head so she could deal with Ruxley. “I’ll tell you nothing! Not until you let Pagan go!”
Slowly Ruxley eased open the ragged fabric at her chest, studying the swell of ivory skin beneath. His breath caught in a soft hiss. “Yes, you really are lovely, my dear wife. And with such valuable secrets locked in that lovely head of yours.” His fingers eased lower, teasing the shadows between her breasts. “And I mean to have them all. Oh yes, just as I mean to have that ruby.”
Without warning his fingers tightened, twisting cruelly.
Barrett squeezed her eyes shut and fought to keep from crying out.
Pagan roared a curse, which was abruptly cut off as Ruxley’s attentive assistant thrust a gag between the planter’s lips.
At that moment the loud report of a gunshot thundered down the tunnel.
Ruxley froze.
Barrett blanched, realizing that Rand had miscalculated once too often. She closed her eyes, trying not to think of what lay within that chill cavern.
“Just a distant earthquake, I imagine. This whole area is rather unstable, I’ve discovered.” Ruxley shrugged. “But what think you of my crystal kingdom? Quite lovely, is it not? Unfortunately the gems are too tiny to possess any real value.”
Then he turned, his eyes narrowing on Barrett’s face. His fingers bit into her forearms. “And now I believe I’ll have the ruby, my dear. For we’ve unfinished business between us, wife, and I think Pagan will soon be in a mood to tell me whatever I wish to know.”
He jerked his head at the native, who freed Pagan’s gag enough for him to speak. “Let her go, damn you! I’ve got the ruby, not she! And there are hundreds more where that one came from!”
Ruxley shook his head. “Too obvious, my friend. If you had the ruby, you would have carried it out when my people set fire to the south wing. But you didn’t, did you? No, you had to run to retrieve a worthless miniature of your exalted father and his silly wife. But she was
not
your mother, of course. Your mother was the timid little ayah in the back, who held your hand so tightly.” Ruxley made a clucking sound. “Nasty, sordid business, all in all. Very bad
ton
to muddy up the blood lines, old fellow. Just isn’t done.”
Pagan wrenched wildly; the native moved a step closer.
A smile played over Ruxley’s thin lips. “But if you didn’t have it, then who did? Over and over I asked myself that question.” He turned to Barrett. “Perhaps we’ll never know. But I mean to have one thing before I leave here, and that is your grandfather’s formula, my sweet. The formula for the explosive oil with the force of ten steam locomotives. Pyro-glycerine, I believe he calls it. You’ve eluded me long, but now I’ll have it.”
Barrett shivered as Ruxley’s long, thin fingers teased her cheek and then fell to her neck, toying with a strand of hair. “I—I don’t have it. We’ve been through all this before! He was very careful never to tell me his results.”
“Rubbish. You did everything for him—ran his workshop, ordered his supplies, wrote down all the results of his experiments.”
“It’s true enough—all but the last, that is. For Grandfather never let me see his mixtures and his methods. He felt it was too dangerous to trust a female with such knowledge.”
That much was true, Barrett thought wildly. Her grandfather had always felt that women were incapable of great intellect. But Barrett, fearing he would muddle the proportions in his absentmindedness, had always been careful to enter the results correctly in his journals.
Her voice hardened. “No, I haven’t any idea of my grandfather’s formula. But I have something nearly as good.”
Ruxley whirled about. “I
knew
you’d find it! Where is it?”
Barrett merely smiled. “Do you think I’d be so stupid as to bring it
here?
I’ve learned something from you, after all. Never again will I be such a naive fool. No, my dear husband, the ruby is safely hidden and will be found only when I
choose
it to be found.”
Ruxley studied her intently, a faint look of admiration playing across his face. “Well, well. We might have done much together, my dear. We might have toppled London. And with the ruby, many things might be possible still.”
He crossed the room and slowly raised his ornate gold revolver to Pagan’s head. “A beauty, isn’t it? Made by Tranter. Self-cocking model. Damned efficient. And it
is
loaded, my sweet, make no mistake about that. Now tell me where the Eye of Shiva is.”
Barrett’s face bled white. She swayed as she saw Ruxley’s finger ease back on the lower trigger.
Ruxley laughed shrilly. “So amusing really. Yes, the two of you have been endless fun. Even on that night in London, when you eluded Creighton so neatly, my dear. Too bad he had to die. But I couldn’t let him tell what he knew. And of course, he bungled things and lost the ruby, after killing Sir Humphrey…” He gave a long-suffering sigh. “Really, what is an honest employer to do with such careless help?”
His voice hardened. “But now, though I am enjoying our conversation immensely, I’m afraid your time is up, old man.” Ruxley cocked the trigger, the sound reverberating like thunder in the tense silence of the cavern.
The muzzle lowered, digging into Pagan’s forehead.
“No!
Wait!” With a wild sob Barrett reached down and wrenched up her skirt. With awkward, bound fingers she tore at her petticoats and jerked the peach silk garter free, then unrolled the top of her right stocking.
And then the great ruby spilled onto her fingers, its polished facets blood red beneath the torchlight, as hot and crimson as the blood that ran through its victims’ hearts.
Ruxley’s voice caught in a raw hiss.
“
You
found it.”
His eyes began to gleam.
Slowly Barrett backed toward the mouth of the cavern. “Barrett, no!” Pagan’s voice was hoarse. “Don’t let him have it. Then he’ll never—”
But he was too late. Already Ruxley was across the room, ripping the stone from Barrett’s trembling fingers. His eyes burned and his face was flushed with triumph. “The Eye of Shiva,” he hissed. “Mine at last!”
He rolled the gem slowly, studying its crimson fires, while reflected sparks danced over his face.
Just then a low rumble like distant thunder echoed through the cavern and the floor swayed faintly. Only it wasn’t thunder, Barrett knew. It was Mita, following her directions carefully, discharging the first of the nitroglycerine explosives.
Her eyes flashed to Pagan’s face. She saw his raised eyebrows, his startled flare of understanding.
She gave him a swift, secret nod. But the other men did not notice. While Ruxley stared in fascination at the ruby clutched in his fingers, his Indian assistant eased closer to catch a glimpse of the legendary jewel.
Barrett began to inch toward the tunnel. Pagan had left a gun in the other cavern, and she would have to get it. She forced down her nausea at the thought of what she would find when she got there.
Pagan gave her a grim nod as she eased backward, while Ruxley’s low crooning spilled through the cavern.
She was nearly at the tunnel mouth when she felt a gentle pressure at her back and whirled breathlessly. Relief flooded through her when she saw Colonel Hadley’s craggy face. She started to speak, but he put a finger to his lips and gestured for her to follow him into the tunnel.
And then Ruxley’s wild laughter erupted from the far wall.
Hadley tensed. Slowly, as if in a dream, he caught Barrett’s arm and shoved her forward.
“Adrian! You got through! Get his weapon!” But the colonel didn’t move. Pagan’s face darkened. “I don’t believe it! Not you too!”
“I’m afraid so, Deveril.” Ruxley sauntered across the cavern, the ruby clutched in his soft, white fingers. He gestured curtly to the colonel. “Over here, Hadley. I’ll need your help with the woman.”
Barrett gasped as Hadley’s fingers tightened on her arms.
“You bloody bastard!” Pagan raged. “How long have you been working for
him?”
“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Dev. I always hoped…” Hadley shrugged and moved forward to secure Barrett to a stone column opposite the tunnel entrance. When she began to struggle, he frowned. “It will only make matters worse if you fight me. I don’t wish to hurt you, you know.”
Barrett felt hysteria claw through her.
Hurt?
If she didn’t think of something soon, they would
all
be hurt, hurt beyond imagining. For soon Mita would plant a blast that would rip the mountain to pieces.
And if her calculations had been wrong by even a hair, or if this area was as unstable as Ruxley said, then…
She shoved down the thought, forcing herself to calculate the minutes elapsed since the last blast. Yes, it should be nearly time for—
At that moment another explosion shook the cavern, much closer than the last. Ruxley spun about with a snarl and ordered the Indian off to investigate.
In tense silence they waited, while his footsteps trailed away. Then they heard a low scream, followed by the crash of falling rock.
Long minutes passed, but the man did not return.
Ruxley shifted restlessly, starting to sweat. Clutching the ruby tightly to his chest he gestured for Hadley to investigate. After a moment’s hesitation, the white-haired man turned and disappeared into the tunnel.
Pagan strained to sit up, wrenching at his leather bonds. “You’ll have no joy of it, Ruxley! It’s
cursed,
don’t you see? From the first man who ever touched it, the stone has brought only sorrow, betrayal, and violent death. Can you really want all that?”
Ruxley smiled, his eyes lit with an odd, chill light. “Cursed, is it? But what about its
powers,
my old friend? What about all the dark fires it unleashes?” He laughed harshly, his eyes smoldering over Barrett. “My wife. My good, sweet wife. The one who was to change everything, to make me—”
He broke off abruptly, his hands clenched around the ruby.
“The one who was to make you capable of performing as a man ought? The woman who would excite the fire you’ve always been incapable of?” Pagan laughed harshly. “It will take more than a ruby to accomplish that!”
Cursing, Ruxley swung about and drove the toe of his boot into Pagan’s face.
“Stop! N-no more!” Barrett’s eyes blurred as she watched Pagan fall back against the stone wall, unconscious. “I—I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll—
obey
you. In any way. Just—just let him go!”
Ruxley chuckled. “Such a devoted lover you make. Too bad you feel no such loyalty for your
husband,
slut.” Slowly he stalked toward her, his dark eyes lit with strange lights.
Very carefully he lowered the ruby to Barrett’s unclad chest. He moved it slowly, tormentingly over her skin, all the time watching her face intently. “Do you feel it, my sweet? Do you feel the dark fires? The slow, deep tingling? They say it makes a man a legend—and a woman an animal.” He drove the stone against one pink nipple. “But we shall soon see, my sweet wife, what effect the ruby has.” He bent close. “And as for that nonsense about not knowing your grandfather’s formula, you can cease the charade. One of the servants at Cinnamon Hill saw you in the workroom when you were recopying your grandfather’s notebook. He was very obliging about all the details. Unfortunately, something he ate later did not quite agree with him. Such a pity.”
“Monster!” Barrett hissed, wrenching wildly against the chill column at her back. Ruxley merely smiled, sliding the ruby over her body and murmuring odd, disjointed phrases.
With each passing second her fear grew and with it came the old, churning nausea. She had been through all this before. She knew exactly what would happen next, how he would force her down and strain to prove his manhood.
“You’ll never get it! Any moment this whole mountain will explode. The ruby will go up with it!” With a desperate sob, Barrett twisted and lashed out with her foot, knocking the ruby from her husband’s hand.
The next moment Ruxley jerked her around and cracked his palm against her face. “No more tricks, bitch! I’ve lost my patience with you. With
both
of you.” His eyes were dark pools of madness as he retrieved the ruby and gently brushed a bit of dust from its face. “And now I mean to bring our little performance to a close. Relax, my dear. And show a little fire, why don’t you? By the glade you weren’t so cold.” His eyes gleamed at Barrett’s gasp. “Yes, Rand told me all about your wanton rendezvous with Pagan. I’ve always suspected you were a passionate little bitch beneath all those layers of clothing and propriety.” His mouth twisted. “You’re not wearing so many clothes now.” He slowly slid the ruby down her chest and skimmed her waist. “But I’d advise you to give up worrying about Pagan. He’s never cared the slightest about a woman, and I hardly expect he’ll start with you—not now that he knows you’re
my
wife.”