He shouldn’t have been doing that, of course. He should have controlled himself, but—
None of it mattered if she was dead. Risciter was already at the brothel, and he’d left Ariana there alone with no one to protect her. Keirth didn’t even want to think about what might have happened to her while he was gone.
He crashed into the kitchen of the brothel the minute he arrived, not worrying about noise. He tore into the pantry, threw the door open, and stepped into the room.
He was greeted with the sight of a dead little girl. The child who’d been sleeping in the room with him earlier. She hung off the bed, her eyes dull, her hand dangling over the bunk.
What had happened?
He spun, taking in the rest of the room. Ariana wasn’t there.
Risciter had found her. This hidden room hadn’t offered her a bit of refuge. How could he have let this happen? Why hadn’t he kept her with him?
Keirth didn’t want to think about what it meant that the little girl was dead. He pushed it from his mind, only focused on Ariana. Where would Risciter have taken her? Had he taken her back to his ship? If so, he must have missed Risciter and Ariana outside the brothel.
Keirth walked out of the kitchen and into the main room.
The first thing he saw was Lilla.
He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and stumbled out of the room.
No. Not Lilla.
Keirth leaned against the wall in the kitchen, barely breathing, trying to process what he’d seen. Risciter had killed Lilla. Why? What did Risciter want with her when he had Ariana? Of course, the little girl had been dead in the room too, hadn’t she?
Feeling cold all over, Keirth stepped back into the main room. The sight of Lilla held his gaze for a long time at first. She’d been brutally stabbed over and over. There were slashes and cuts all over her body. Her head flopped back and Keirth could see the incision that had nearly severed her head from her body. Her bloody neck was open in front of him, glistening. The way she was arranged wasn’t an accident either. It was sickly provocative, something only a monster like Risciter could think up.
When he could finally tear his gaze away from Lilla, he noticed the other girls. They were dead. All of them. Most were still dressed, but some had their clothes pushed out of the way or removed, as if Risciter had enjoyed leering at them. But each had their throats cut.
That was what Risciter had done to his mother. Cut her throat. Keirth remembered seeing the movement, the flash of the knife. He’d run forward out of his hiding place, screaming. Risciter had stood up, picking up a nearby chair and clubbing Keirth over the head.
Keirth ran for the steps. Were they all dead? He pushed open doors on the top floor. Here, some of the women had been with clients. But everyone was dead. The men had been stabbed to death, the women’s throats slashed. There was blood everywhere, dripping off of satin sheets, running in rivulets down naked flesh. He checked every single room. There was no one alive.
But where was Risciter? And where was Ariana? Was she dead already too? God, how long had he been gone? How had Risciter managed to kill all of them?
He didn’t want to check in the cottages, but he did. Everyone dead there too. The same way.
Finally, he got to Ariana’s cottage. He didn’t want her to be in there, dead. He hesitated at the doorway, not wanting to open it. If she was gone...
The things he would do to Risciter if he’d killed Ariana.
But it would be all his fault. If Ariana was dead, he’d stay alive only long enough to cut the man to shreds. Then he’d kill himself too. Because he deserved it. Ariana would be dead because he’d left her. He turned back to look at the rest of the brothel. All these women were dead because he’d lured Risciter here. He’d as good as killed them.
The force of the thought made him stagger. He grasped at the door of the cottage to keep himself from falling.
And there were strong arms behind him, wrapping around his body.
Keirth tried to turn, to struggle, to see his attacker, but there was something on his face, a cloth over his nose, over his mouth. He smelled a sickly sweet aroma, like flowers, and his vision started to go dark around the edges. Keirth’s arms flailed out, one last attempt to free himself. And then everything went black.
* * *
Keirth woke up inside the cottage. He was tied to chair, facing the bed. All the lights were on. Ariana was lying on the bed, nude. She was spread eagle, her arms and legs tied in place. She was crying, and he could hear the sounds of her sobs echoing through the room. Risciter was standing in the corner, toying with a knife. When he saw Keirth, he grinned widely.
“You’re awake,” said Risciter. “I’ve been waiting.” He gestured with his head to Ariana. “So has she.”
Keirth strained against the ropes that held him, but they didn’t budge. The chair he sat on was wooden with a plush cushion. It must have gone with the vanity in the room. He rocked on it, testing its strength. The wood creaked a little under his weight but didn’t give way.
Risciter strode across the room. He put his hands on either side of the chair and his face inches from Keirth’s. “When we last saw each other, I told you that we were going to reenact the scene from when I killed your mother. But you decided to muck up that plan, didn’t you? That really made me angry. I guess you’ve seen what happens when I get angry.”
Keirth felt sick. All those women.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” said Risciter.
Keirth forced himself to nod. “I get it. But why don’t you let Ariana go? She’s got nothing to do with this. This is between you and me.”
Risciter laughed. “On the contrary. This is most certainly about Ariana. Or perhaps you’re forgetting that she beat me over the head with a fallen log.” He glared at Ariana on the bed. “She needs to pay for that, little slut.” Risciter pulled a comm out of his pocket. He hit a few buttons, then spoke into it. His voice sounded shaky, like he was afraid. “I’m on Scranth. Please come. It’s horrible. Keirth Transman has murdered Miss Gilit and a whole brothel full of whores. I managed to fight him off. He wanted to kill me as well, but I got the upper hand and killed him. I wish I could have saved Miss Gilit. Please hurry.” Then he snapped off the comm and grinned at Keirth.
Keirth was shocked. What was Risciter playing at? He planned to kill them both, then, but that had always been obvious. But he wanted to pin all these murders on Keirth? Why? What made the man so twisted?
“The deaths of a few beggars and whores don’t matter much,” Risciter said to him. “But the death of the daughter of a duke? Someone would ask questions. You’re a lucky find, boy. A scapegoat.” He laughed.
Keirth couldn’t let this happen. He would not watch while Risciter raped Ariana and killed her. He’d failed his mother. He’d failed all the women in the brothel. He’d failed that poor little girl on the bunk. But he had to do something now. He rocked on the chair again, trying to force all his weight back onto one leg. The chair wobbled, groaned.
Risciter snapped his head back to him.
Keirth returned all the legs of the chair to the floor. He strained against the ropes again.
Risciter went to Ariana. He ran his knife over the planes and curves of her body, tracing the outlines of her nipples with his blade.
Ariana whimpered.
“Don’t touch her!” Keirth growled, pitching forward on the chair. It fell over with him on it and his knees crashed painfully against the floor.
Risciter chuckled. He came over to Keirth and righted the chair. “You’re pathetic, boy. You can’t save her.” He went back to the bed.
But Keirth had felt it when the chair went back on its legs. The wood had splintered in the fall. One of the legs was weak now. He could break it, if he just put enough pressure on it...
Keirth leaned onto the weakened leg.
Risciter’s hands were all over Ariana’s body. “So beautiful,” he murmured. He turned to Keirth. “Should I make
her suck my cock? Would you like that? Or should we just skip right to the main event?” His hands trailed between Ariana’s legs, one finger probing her.
Keirth looked away. He shouldn’t be seeing this.
“Fuck you, Risciter.” Ariana’s voice was shaky, but still full of fight.
Keirth had to get free. He leaned against the chair leg again, hearing the wood splinter a little further. Frightened Risciter had heard the noise, he glanced at him.
But Risciter still had his fingers inside Ariana. He was watching her face, smiling as she struggled and glared at him.
Keirth pushed on the chair harder. Another splintering sound.
Risciter moved his hands to his trousers, leering at Ariana as he undid his clothes.
Keirth felt dread and fear surge through him. This couldn’t happen. He had to try harder. He had to stop Risciter. He pushed on the chair leg harder.
But Risciter was climbing onto the bed with Ariana.
“Risciter, don’t,” Ariana was pleading. She was crying again.
Keirth dragged all his attention away from the bed and focused on the chair. He rocked on it, throwing his full weight onto the damaged leg. There was a resounding crack as the leg splintered completely, pitching Keirth onto the ground. His leg was free.
Risciter turned at the noise. “You’re always trouble, boy.”
Keirth struggled with the rest of the chair on the floor. One of his legs was free. The rope tying it to the broken leg had slipped off. But he was still bound to the arms and leg of rest of the chair, which was intact.
Risciter surveyed him. He thrust into Ariana.
Keirth screamed in rage. Not again. He would not watch this monster do this again. With his free leg, he kicked at the chair. He yanked against the ropes with all the strength he had, throwing the force of his anger behind it.
The chair snapped into pieces. Keirth stumbled to his feet, pieces of wood still tied to his limbs.
And then he was pulling Risciter off the bed, and the two were wrestling on the floor. Keirth punched Risciter in the nose, and he started bleeding.
But Risciter had his knife still. He stabbed at Keirth, sinking the blade into Keirth’s shoulder.
Keirth yelped, searing pain flooding his body. But he wasn’t going to let Risciter stop him. Not this time. He reached up and yanked the knife out of his shoulder. Now he was armed and Risciter wasn’t.
Risciter backed away from Keirth, fear in his eyes.
Keirth leapt on him. He plunged the knife into Risciter’s stomach.
Risciter grunted.
Keirth pulled the knife out. There was blood all over his hand. He didn’t care. He stabbed Risciter again, this time in the chest. More blood.
Risciter shrieked.
Frenzied, Keirth raised the knife over his head and began bringing it down over and over again, sinking it into Risciter’s skin one time after another. Blood sprayed over Risciter’s clothes, over Keirth’s hands. It spattered in his face.
After some time, Keirth realized Risciter wasn’t screaming anymore. He stopped. He stood up. He backed away from Risciter, who hardly looked like Risciter anymore. He was a twisted piece of meat and blood, mangled by the knife.
Keirth looked down at the knife in his hand. He dropped it, letting it clatter on the floor.
This wasn’t how he’d pictured it. He’d thought that he’d say something scathing and witty to Risciter. He’d thought he’d wrench an apology from the man, make him plead for his life. Instead...
Ariana made a little gasp behind him.
Ariana!
Keirth found a blanket on the ground and threw it over her body, covering her nakedness. He fished the knife up off the floor and cut her ropes.
She was shaking. She pulled the blanket tight against her body. “Thank you,” she said.
He looked at Risciter’s remains on the floor, at the blood all over his hands and arms. He wasn’t sure “thank you” was the thing he would have said to him right now.
Ariana sucked in a shuddering breath. “I want to take a shower,” she said. “You should take one too.”
He should wash away this blood, shouldn’t he? He probably looked like a monster to her, not a rescuer or a hero.
“But we have to be quick,” Ariana said. “Risciter called someone on the comm. They think you did this.”
* * *
Hyperspace streamed by on the visual in the bridge. Ariana sat on a chair, hugging her knees to her chest. She and Keirth had left Scranth behind only an hour ago. They hadn’t spent much time talking. They were both in shock. That was what she thought, anyway.
Ariana didn’t know how she should be feeling right now. She felt like she couldn’t quite remember what had happened to her. She’d woken up tied to the bed in the cottage. There were flashes of Risciter talking to her. Flashes of his hands on her, which made her shudder. Flashes of his knife, glinting wickedly in the light. Flashes of him inside her. Ugh.
But it had only been for a second. She’d felt him push his way inside her, smelled him, felt like vomiting...
And then he wasn’t there anymore. There were just noises and grunts and screams and...
Keirth had killed him. Keirth had saved her.
But Keirth wasn’t talking to her. He was sitting in the pilot’s seat, punching things in on the console.
Abruptly, the visual of hyperspace switched off.
“Gives me a headache,” said Keirth.
Ariana had thought it was pretty. But she didn’t protest. She hugged her knees closer to her chest. What would happen now? “Where are we going?” she asked.
Keirth didn’t look up from the console. “I picked random coordinates. I don’t know. When get there, we can pick another destination if you want.”
They were on a ship to nowhere. She wasn’t a virgin anymore. Was she? Did it count, what Risciter did? It had only been a moment. And Keirth was a wanted criminal, because they’d think... What would they think? Risciter had told the comm that both of them were dead. When they found the bodies on Scranth, would they know that Risciter had been lying?
Somehow, she didn’t think they would.
She looked at Keirth. She’d started this whole mess trying to save Risciter. But she’d ended up cheering Keirth on inside her head as he’d killed Risciter. She was glad he was dead. Everything was different now. Everything.
* * *
Sergeant Nol Praxider of the Intergalactic Police stepped out of the brothel on Scranth. He took in a long breath of clean, fresh air. Praxider wasn’t a stranger to scenes of slaughter, but this was perhaps one of the worst he’d ever seen. So many bodies. So many dead.
They wouldn’t even have found them if it hadn’t been for the distress call from the Duke of Risciter. The brothel was so remote, and its clientele probably not men on the right side of the law, that even if one of them had discovered it, they probably wouldn’t have reported it. Praxider thought of all these dead bodies rotting as the elements reclaimed the group of cottages. He shuddered.
But even with the tip off, things were not cut and dry. The Duke had claimed that Keirth Transman, the man he said had committed these murders, was dead. But there was no sign of Transman, and the duke himself had been killed viciously. Praxider had yet to count the number of stab wounds in the duke’s body. The only other body in the place that had been dealt with similarly was that of the madam’s, who also sported numerous stab wounds. That hadn’t been what killed her, though. She’d been killed by the cut to the throat, like all the other women’s bodies. Only the men lacked the trademark throat slash of this killer, including the duke, who seemed to have stabbed in a fury. Perhaps Transman only cut the throats of women.
It was obvious, though, given that the duke was dead, that Transman hadn’t been nearly as dead as the duke had thought.
The case bothered Praxider. He knew, of course, that there had been a distress call from Miss Ariana Gilit, claiming to have been captured by a man they now knew to
be Keirth Transman. The Duke claimed that Transman had also killed Miss Gilit, but her body wasn’t here. Was she alive as well? Had the duke been mistaken about that?
Or had Transman taken her body with him? A man who slit the throats of this many prostitutes clearly was a sick man. Maybe he wanted to do disgusting things to Miss Gilit’s body.
But one thing bothered Praxider more than anything. If Transman had wanted to kill Miss Gilit, why had it taken him so long? Why not kill her right when he captured her?
He looked back at the brothel. Would he find his answers inside? He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He didn’t want to look at all the dead girls again.
* * *
The Duke of Tramet read the story on the nets with a heavy heart. So, Keirth was a murderer, was he? He shouldn’t have hoped for better, he realized. If only he’d gotten to the boy sooner. His mother had made it damned difficult, though, hadn’t she, traipsing all over the galaxy the way she had? It was a miracle Tramet had even known about Keirth in the first place, let alone tracked him down and followed him.
He supposed it should have been expected. The boy’d had a terrible life. His mother had seen to that. She’d raised him amongst lowlifes. She’d exposed him to all kinds of horrific things. The boy probably couldn’t help but absorb all that and come out mean.
Ah, but Tramet was making excuses, wasn’t he? Did it really matter why Keirth had killed people? He’d killed people. Tramet didn’t do himself any favors by harboring any more sympathy for the boy. He’d have to let it go.
It wasn’t worth it anymore. Keirth was a monster. Tramet wanted nothing more to do with him. Besides, since Risciter had been his only lead, and Risciter was now dead, the trail had gone cold. It was time to give up.
Chapter Thirteen
Keirth crawled into the tiny bed on the ship, pulling the thin blanket over his body. He and Ariana hadn’t gotten much sleep, and though he didn’t feel tired exactly, he noted that Ariana had dark circles under her eyes and suggested they try to nap. The ship would be in hyperspace for several more hours. He’d programmed the ship to wake him by alarm before they reached their destination, wherever that might be. He really should look up the coordinates and find out where he’d sent them.
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