by Lee Bross
“I thought he was out on an errand for you,” she gasped. Prickles of light danced in her vision. Bones had always been cruel, but tonight something had changed. Tonight, Arista feared he might finally kill her. “I went out alone tonight.”
“You were out tonight?” Bones lifted the light over his head and peered down over her, finally noticing her costume. “What game are you up to? I didn’t send you out.” Spittle flecked his lips and he shoved her back against the wall. As he held her there with an arm across her throat, the flames from the lantern burned in his eyes. He looked like the devil himself. “Are you double-crossing me, girl?”
“You sent me.” She tugged desperately against his iron grip.
She realized the truth in a rush. The card that granted her entrance to the masquerade hadn’t been from him. Of course not—why would he send her to meet Wild? Unless Wild had arranged the meeting under the pretense of needing Bones’s services. But judging by the murderous glint in Bones’s eyes, he knew nothing about tonight.
Bones released the pressure on her neck, but then tangled his gnarled fingers in her wig. The pins pulled painfully at her scalp, and Arista grabbed his wrist with both hands. “I’ll not be double-crossed, girl. Not by the likes o’ you. Who gave you the order to go out? Do not lie to me.”
Arista glared at Bones. “You did.”
He yanked upward until she stood on her toes, pinned against the wall. She dug her nails frantically into his flesh, but he didn’t relent. He twisted his hand, tightening his grip on her hair, then drove his free fist into her gut over and over again.
He did plan to kill her.
Bile rose up in her throat as the blows kept coming. Her entire body burned with fiery pain. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. She screamed. The door to her room flew open.
“It was me,” Becky cried. The girl half fell out of the door, then sank to her knees at Bones’s feet. “A note was slipped under the outside door. I thought it was from you.” Bones released Arista. She doubled over, gasping for breath. Each inhale sent a new, agonizing shot throughout her body. Wild had known her at the party, had even expected her to be there. Had he slipped the note under the door? No one except Becky, Arista, Nic, and Bones knew of Lady A’s whereabouts—knew that the nondescript outside door led right to her.
“Please.” Arista jerked her head toward the plea in time to see Becky cowering on the floor. Bones drove his boot into the girl’s middle, and her abrupt scream was cut off when the next blow landed on her head. Becky lay still on the floor.
The invisible vise on Arista’s limbs released, and she staggered a few steps before the pain doubled her over. “No, stop!”
Bones barked an order over his shoulder and two huge men stepped from the shadows. One, a hulking beast with a disfigured face, advanced on her with a feral gleam in his eye. “Put them inside,” Bones said.
The brute grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest. He smelled of sweat and onions and Arista gagged as he pushed her nose against his shirt. He slid his arm around her back and drove his hand into her stomach, in the same spot Bones had beaten. She cried out in pain and the man laughed, a low sadistic sound she had heard on the streets too often. He lifted her off her feet and all she could do was concentrate on breathing in through her mouth and out through her nose.
She would not faint. She would not let this monster do anything to her without one hell of a fight.
Arista didn’t have time to contemplate it, because she suddenly flew through the air. She landed hard on her shoulder and the impact sent fresh jolts of pain through her body. The knife handle dug into her hip, and she slid her hand under her skirts until she curled her fingers around the cool, smooth wood.
Becky lay motionless on the floor. Bones took the single lantern from the room and handed it to one of the men. He stood over her, a sneer on his face. “Maybe a little reminder of how it could be will help you remember. There’ll be no food or drink or light until I find him.”
His guards left the room, then Bones followed, taking the light with him. Arista heard the outside lock click into place. She scrambled to her hands and knees and crawled to the door. Splinters dug into her fingertips as she clawed at the wood.
They were trapped in the dark.
The corset shrank with each breath until it became impossible to get any air. The room grew warmer with each exhale and Arista fought the panic welling up inside her. There were no windows—another safeguard to prevent anyone from discovering they were there. White dots danced at the edges of her vision. She could not stop her limbs from shaking as she turned and put the door at her back. She drew her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth.
What if I told you I know where Bones hides his money? That I can get to it? Where would you want to go then?
Oh God, Nic, what have you done?
She must have said it out loud. “Miss?” Becky’s faint voice pulled Arista from her thoughts.
“Becky!” It hurt to talk, but she called out again despite the pain. Arista turned back onto her hands and knees and crawled toward her friend’s soft cries. Each small movement sent fresh waves of agony shooting through her stomach, but she pushed on. She had to be strong for both of them now. “Where are you?”
“Here, miss.”
Arista made her way over the last few feet and found Becky. As she carefully ran her fingers over the girl, something warm and sticky coated her fingers. Without any light, Arista had no idea how badly her friend had been injured.
“Becky,” she whispered. Her voice sounded as though her mouth were full of muslin. “I’m going to get us out of here, and I’ll get you some help, okay?” Emotion welled up in her throat, making it difficult to swallow.
Arista fought through the growing panic and pushed to her feet. Sharp pain radiated from her middle but she made her way blindly across the room, one arm cradling her aching stomach and the other held out in front of her. When she finally felt solid wood under her hand, she leaned her forehead against the wall and took in several shallow breaths. It didn’t hurt as much that way.
She felt so small, so helpless. Being trapped again, in the dark room, brought back memories of before, when she was too young and helpless to fight back. Then, she would just curl up and wait. Maybe there was nothing to do now—nothing to be done. What could she do, anyway? She was just a girl. An orphan. Nobody.
But she was also Lady A. She’d brought grown men to their knees.
What would Lady A do? She’d fight.
And she’d win.
Arista made a fist and pounded on the door. The force rattled the locks like bells but the door held, surprisingly firm despite the rotten wood.
“Bones!” she shouted as best as she could. He thought she would admit defeat—beg to be taken out of the dark. He thought she was weak.
She was counting on it.
In only a minute, she heard his footsteps in the hall outside. Between the folds in her skirt, she found the hidden slit and pulled her knife free. He would not get the chance to lock her inside again.
A key scraped across metal and the click sounded like a gunshot. Sweat beaded on Arista’s forehead and trickled down into her eyes. There would only be one chance. If she failed, he would kill her this time.
When the door swung open and light filled the room, Arista drew back and kicked out at Bones’s legs. He fell into the room and the lantern he’d been carrying smashed onto the floor. The oil spread out and flames licked at it greedily.
He had not expected her to fight back, after being held in the dark. He’d expected a scared, cooperative child. But she wasn’t that little girl anymore.
Bones growled like an animal and pushed to his feet. He faced her, blackened teeth bared. A small stream of blood ran down his face from a cut on his cheek. She smiled in satisfaction. But then a whoosh swept through the room, and the flames leapt to the bed—and the wall behind.
Fire ate at the flimsy wooden structure, spreading so fast that
within seconds, thick black smoke rolled across the ceiling.
Becky moaned from the floor. Arista crouched down, the knife still pointed at Bones. “Becky, we have to get out. I need you to stand up.” Arista’s jaw throbbed and flashes of pain wrenched her stomach each time she moved, but if they didn’t get out soon, they would burn to death.
“Die, like the scum you are!” Bones shouted over the escalating sound of the fire. He started to move past her, but he would not get away. If she was going to die, he’d go with her. Arista swung her arm in a high arc and sank her knife into his soft stomach.
He screeched and fell to his knees next to her. A deep red stain quickly spread over the bottom half of his shirt. He clutched at the knife handle but could not get a grip on it, because of all the slick blood pouring from the wound.
Bones fell forward with a hard thump. He didn’t move again. Through the walls, Arista heard his men shouting. She rolled Bones over and used the material of her shirt to grip the knife, to pull it free from his unmoving body. If his men found them, she’d need it again.
The fire had eaten away half the room already and spread out into other parts of the house. The heat became unbearable. The dry wood was quickly consumed by the hungry fire.
“Becky?” Each breath took more effort than the last as smoke filled Arista’s lungs. The searing temperature of the fire singed her wig, and sparks rained down around them. The old, dry wood crackled so loudly that she couldn’t hear her own voice.
Becky did not respond when Arista grabbed her arm and dragged her across the floor to the doorway. Smoke was pouring out of the room and filling the hall. Heavy thumps sounded at the second door, followed by a burst of splintering wood. New voices shouted into the space. Bones’s men had broken through.
Arista stood, then bent over to drag Becky toward the door that led out to the street. The pain grew so bad that she almost vomited, but she knew if she didn’t keep going, they were dead. The men were battling the fire and didn’t notice them in the darkness.
When Arista finally felt the wood of the door against her back, she sank down to the floor, exhausted. They’d made it. The sweet taste of relief overpowered the acrid taste of smoke. She reached to where Becky always kept the key—on a string around her neck—and found nothing. Icy panic raced up her back while the heat of the fire pressed down against them. She couldn’t go back to look for it. Fire crawled across the ceiling of the hall, getting closer with each swirling orange finger.
Arista pushed to her feet and jammed her shoulder against the door. Stars danced in her vision. Pain radiated down her arm, but she tried again. And again. The street door could only be unlocked from the inside. It needed a key.
While the townhouse may have been in deplorable shape, the door had been reinforced to prevent anyone from stumbling in on them. Frustration turned to terror as the roar of the fire grew closer, all around them now. She dug at the lock with her knife, but the blade felt heavy and awkward in her grip and took too much effort to hold steady. The weight of it dragged her hand down until it rested on the rough floor. When she tried to lift it again, she had nothing left. Her strength was gone. They were trapped.
Arista turned and leaned her back against the door, gasping for air. The smoke billowed down the hallway, almost beautiful in its white, writhing dance. She watched with a sort of detached fascination. Each breath filled her lungs with more and more smoke.
Would death hurt? Could it hurt any more than being alive? Some days, she had ached almost too much to bear. And just when a chance of escape had presented itself, and given her hope for a future she’d never dared dream of, it too had been snatched away. Bones’s final act of treachery.
As her head grew hazy, Arista thought of the highwayman, of the kiss they’d shared earlier, and she had a moment of regret. She would never know that feeling again. She would never find the love she craved. Never see the shores of distant lands, or feel the wind of an open sea brush over her face. Never taste true freedom.
The fire seemed to retreat behind them, holding its breath expectantly, but only for a second. It gathered itself, then reared back and roared. The thick smoke made it impossible to breathe, and the oblivion that had been threatening to overtake her finally won out.
Arista threaded her fingers through Becky’s and closed her eyes as the darkness rose up to claim her.
Somewhere in the hazy glow inside her head, Arista heard voices; wood splintered; arms lifted her. The brush of cool night air over her skin made her shiver, and each breath caused excruciating spasms in her lungs. If this was death, she must be in hell. Faces floated in and out of her clouded vision.
Then the dark was a blissfully quiet and pain-free place.
When she opened her eyes, bright sunlight streamed in through a lace-covered window. Softness cocooned her body, enveloped her in the most exquisite warmth. Hell was a strange place indeed.
There was a movement to her right, and she distantly watched an unfamiliar girl set a tray down on the small table next to the bed. Arista blinked several times, trying to chase the sleep from her eyes. The girl had on a filmy dressing robe and kohl smeared under one eye, making her seem less exotic and more like a nightmarish creature. In fact, it looked like the woman had just stumbled out of bed herself.
“Where am I?” The words scraped across her raw throat and came out barely audible. The girl glanced at her, then at someone just out of Arista’s view. A new figure stood in the doorway: a man. Her vision cleared. Not just any man; Wild.
Panic sizzled under her skin. She’d heard stories of girls being drugged and sold into the cruelest brothels. Had he lied about not forcing her to work with him?
“What am I doing here?” Arista tried to push herself up, but a slice of pain cut through her middle. With a gasp, she lay back down. What had he done to her?
“Relax, my dear,” Wild said. “You’re quite safe here. If I may come in, I’ll try and explain everything.”
Arista glanced at the girl, who now stood off to the side with her hands clasped over her stomach.
“Justine will stay if it makes you more comfortable,” Wild said. He waited patiently at the threshold of the room for her to grant him access: a consideration she would not have expected from one such as him. She motioned for him to enter and he made his way to the bed, standing close but not so close that it made her uncomfortable. Justine stood still, though she seemed more like a half-asleep girl than a guard.
“How did I get here?” Arista asked, and winced at the pain in her throat.
Wild picked up a glass and filled it with water from a matching pitcher. “May I?” he asked, indicating that he would help her to sit up. When she nodded, he carefully lifted the glass to her lips and tilted it just enough so a few precious drops of water fell into her mouth.
It felt as if she were drinking liquid fire. Water dribbled down her chin when she turned her head away from the pain. “Thank you,” she whispered. The pain receded and her throat did feel a little better. “Where am I?”
“I brought you somewhere safe to recover,” Wild said, setting the glass on a small table next to the bed. “No one saw you arrive, and aside from a few of my girls, no one knows you’re here.” Was that a warning? No, though her mind was muddled, she saw no ill intent in his eyes. Only concern—the way his lips turned down at the corners.
“What happened?” For the life of her, she could not remember at all. Images were jumbled together in her head. Everything remained fuzzy, as if she might still be dreaming. She had a vague recollection of shouting, and then…nothing. A dull throb radiated from the side of her jaw. When she raised her hand to feel along the bone, Wild scowled, though he didn’t seem angry at her.
“I imagine it feels about as bad as it looks. I had my physician check on you the first night, and he said nothing appeared broken. Your ribs are quite bruised, though, and will be uncomfortable for some time.”
Arista blinked. Her eyelids were suddenly so heavy. It wou
ldn’t hurt to close them, just for a minute, would it? Wild pulled the quilt up around her neck and patted her head as if she were a child.
“Rest now, my dear. There will be plenty of time to discuss other matters when you’ve recovered.” Wild followed Justine out of the room, and the door closed. The unmistakable click of a lock registered somewhere in the fog inside her head, but Arista barely had time to acknowledge it before the darkness swept her under again.
When she awoke once more her head had finally cleared. Night sat heavy outside the window now, and from somewhere below her, the sounds of music and laughter drifted through the floor. A lantern flickered from across the room, casting the room in soft light. The warm glow of a fire in the hearth made the room’s temperature quite comfortable. As one used to waking up in a cold, dark room, it took Arista a moment to get her bearings and remember the conversation with Wild.
Gingerly she sat up, cradling her bruised ribs. The pain was at least manageable now. Her legs wobbled when she stood, but they held her upright. A demure white nightgown hung to her ankles, buttoned just under her neck. Who had put this on her? Heat burned her cheeks. Hopefully the girl she saw earlier.
The room was small but well furnished. A wardrobe sat in one corner, and next to it a dressing table. The floor was wood, but a colorful rug filled most of the room, keeping her bare feet warm. It was by far the nicest place she’d ever slept, but she still didn’t understand how she’d gotten there. She could not separate dream from reality.
Arista moved to the window and pulled the curtain back. Her window looked out onto a small garden three stories below. It was too dark to make out anything that might tell her where she was. Reluctantly, she let the lace fall back into place. There were no answers in the dark.
A soft click sounded behind her. Arista swung around and reached for her knife instinctively. It wasn’t there. She had just enough time to reach the side of the bed before the door swung open. She grabbed the quilt and threw it around her shoulders, just as a maid entered. She was not the same girl as before. This one looked much younger, and had on a simple blue gown with an apron over the front. Wild came in right behind her.
