"You have so much to learn."
Anne made a decision. Game or no game, she would conceal her knife in her dress.
"Do you toy with people like the matador taunts the bull?" Anne's heart picked up speed. She treaded dangerous terrain with this subject, but she needed to know. "Was that what you did to Pedro in Mozambique by forcing him to make an impossible choice?"
Ulrich’s eyes glittered, and he turned his head to the side. "I did not know you would be more than a pretty pet." He clicked his tongue and inspected her with renewed interest. "I always loved the sport, but the choices... Those came later. I used to scrape for four months to find stragglers and misfits to fill my ship. Then I received this visit. An all-important duke, straight from the king's court. We struck a deal."
Anne leaned forward and placed her napkin over the knife. "Deal?"
"The duke said he wouldhelp me catch an entire tribe. In exchange, I had to teach this young general a lesson."
Anne gasped. Pedro's wound had been a deliberate blow?
Ulrich shushed her. "The duke told me the general would kick his morals to high heaven if I spilled his brother's blood. It worked. You see, the right choice is a mirror. It reveals who a person really is. And I learned the lesson. After dealing with the duke, I went straight to the tribe leaders. Sometimes it took a blonde wench like yourself. In others, I had to torture a wife or a child, but it never failed. While other traders sweated four months to fill a slave ship, I did it in one. You do the math."
Who had betrayed Pedro so? Changing him from a noble youth to a cynical man? Anger swept through her at such calculated cruelty. Still, she forced herself to hear his ramblings, hoping her expression didn't show her disgust. "Except you didn't give Pedro a choice when you implicated him in the king's brother's assassination."
"Is that so?" Ulrich smiled, and his head leaned to the side. "Are you so eager to be a part of my tests?"
The corset squeezed her rib cage, making it hard to breathe. Anne tugged the napkin, and the knife fell onto her lap. A wave of heat climbed to her cheeks, and she kept her gaze on her plate.
He tapped his finger over his chin. "I’m not very creative today, and lust is impatient. You can lie with me willingly and become my pampered pet, or you can fight me, and after I finish with you, you will join the ranks of the Siren. An English lady will be a success in my new collection."
Anne held her breath, her hand going to her lap. Her muscles became so tense she feared they would snap, and she gripped the knife until the handle bit into her palm. How could she do this? Hurt another? Still, she couldn't live with herself if she allowed him to touch her.
He stood and swaggered near, a secretive smile pulling up the corners of his thin lips. A drop of blood had congealed on his mustache, and Anne could not look away from that single drop.
"What will it be?"
Chapter 44
Pedrospunthecylinderof his gasser revolver while waiting for the others at the Siren's front entrance. Cris and Gabriel flanked him. A detachment of the king's guard screened the street, and the rest deployed to block the exit.
Pedro, who had never prayed in his life, did it feverishly, praying for Anne to be strong, to protect herself by whatever means necessary. He prayed for Ulrich to find a spark of decency, to spare her of hurt. Had Anne not told him human nature was good? He had scoffed at her naivete then, but now he hoped she was right.
The dead bodyguard lying on the sand flashed through his mind, dissolving any doubt about the truth of Ulrich's nature.
He signaled the men to be silent, unwilling to rouse Ulrich's guards. An unnatural quietness pervaded the mansion. A kick in the brass lock, and the door crashed open. Pedro stepped inside the foyer, his boots crunching glass. Light shied away from the black and red drapery. Cigars littered the floor, and the carpet had liquor stains.
All was hushed until a wave of footsteps resounded from above. Women stampeded down the stairs, some wearing flimsy nightgowns, others dressed in rags. Heart accelerating, Pedro searched for Anne's face among the group. She was not one of them. Pedro left Gabriel to deal with the distraught women and dashed to the second floor.
A door lay ajar at the end of the corridor, spilling bright color on the Persian rug. Dust motes flew with the shaft of light, their sparkle reminding him of his last morning with Anne. Dread swam in his stomach like venom. What would he find inside that room? The image of Anne's body, lifeless and bloody, threatened to push him to his knees.
The bed was empty. Anne's fragrance floated inside, a fresh mist over the gaudy bedchamber. A breeze ruffled the curtains, and they billowed like old sails in a storm, emphasizing the utter stillness of the room. Empty. Atop the bed, a golden chain caught the light. It was her locket. Below the jewelry, a vellum card.
Meet me at the Bullfighting Arena. Alone.
Pedro rode Erebus to the hill on the outskirts of Lisbon, his breaths straining his chest. When he arrived at the crest, he thanked the terrain's layout. From his position, he had an unobstructed view of the circular bullring, from the uncovered arena where thetouradatook place to the surrounding stands. Ulrich’s guards swarmed both entrances of the coliseum-like structure, but no sign of Anne or Ulrich.
Pedro lay on the schist soil, oblivious to pebbles poking his torso, and placed the Chassepot rifle over his shoulder. The midday sun punished his back, and an army of bruise-colored clouds gathered above the city.
Pedro cleared stray thoughts from his mind, preparing for his life's most important shot. While Gabriel's soldiers distracted Ulrich's men, Pedro would shoot Ulrich as soon as he settled over the bleachers. And then he would remove Anne from this hell.
Cris and Santiago formed behind him, while the others, including Maxwell, had followed Gabriel. One had to admire the Englishman's courage. He had insisted on accompanying them, even being a civilian without military training.
Down the hill, red flashed among the grove of cork oaks. Santiago settled by Pedro's side and signaled with a mirror. "The royal guard is in place."
Perspiration trickled down Pedro's spine as he inspected the roads leading to the bullring. "Why is Ulrich taking so long?"
