Even In Darkness (Between) (15 page)

Chapter 15

Eagan pivoted, determination and disgust etched into his features, and stormed out of the room. I gathered my skirts in my hands and fled after him, leaving Delgado’s bloody corpse behind.

“Eagan, wait!” I called after him, but he didn’t stop. His strides were longer than mine by more than double, so he quickly outpaced me and left me alone in the dimly lit hallway. As I rushed toward the stairs, desperate to stop him from throwing Aiden overboard, my ankle gave out beneath me, twisting hard to one side. I crumpled into a ball at the foot of the stairs and broke into huge, gasping sobs. Clenching my fists so hard that my fingernails left bloody half-moons in my palms, I screamed at the top of my lungs. The sound of Eagan shouting orders above deck float
ed down to me, prodding me to my feet. Pain exploded up my leg when I tried to put weight on my ankle, but I did my best to ignore it and used the railing to pull myself up the stairs, one at a time. The number of steps seemed to increase the longer I climbed. I felt like I was in an MC Escher drawing. Sweat broke out on my forehead with the effort, but the sounds of men shuffling back and forth above me spurred me on until at last, I crested the top of the stairs and emerged into the light, nearly faint with exhaustion.

Two of the ship’s burliest men stood on either side of Aiden with their arms crossed
and looks of pure hatred on their faces. They’d stripped Aiden down to his kilt so that his back was bare. His hands were bound and chained to the center mast of the ship. Eagan stood behind him, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a length of rope in his hands. Sharp bits of metal were knotted in intervals along the rope, which ended in something that looked like a tiny cannonball with spikes. As I watched in horror, Eagan threw back his arm and lashed Aiden’s bare skin with the flogger. Bright red lines sliced down his flesh, but Aiden didn’t make a sound.

“Stop it!” Clutching the ship’s railing for support, I hobbled over to Eagan and grabbed his sleeve. “Stop, for the love of God. Please!”

Eagan shrugged me off and flayed Aiden’s back open with another vicious swipe of the barbed rope. Aiden’s knees wobbled on the next slash, but he stayed upright.

I clawed Eagan’s arm, screaming for him to stop, until he finally lowered the weapon and
whirled on me, eyes blazing. “He murdered that man, Lindsey! In cold blood, he slit his throat so that he choked to death on his own blood. Do you honestly expect me to walk away and do nothing?”

“
But you don’t understand. Delgado killed his family!”

“And what about the other English soldiers that your husband has
killed? Five other men have died at his hands. Men who had wives and children, and families who will mourn them. Men who fought bravely for their country. And yet you dare to stand there and beg me to be merciful? How much more merciful can I be? Shall I wait to dole out punishment until he’s killed the rest of my crew?” His voice got louder and louder with each question until he was shouting in my face, making the vein in his forehead stand out.

Tears clogged my throat, robbing me of the power of speech. I shook my head from side to side, silently pleading with him.

When Eagan spoke again, the fury had gone from his voice, leaving a flat, dead tone in its place. “I should save us all the trouble and throw him overboard for the sharks to devour.” There was something in his eyes I couldn’t understand. “Go. You should not see this.” Not waiting for me to leave, he attacked Aiden with the flogger again and again until his back was nothing more than a streaming canvas of blood.

Bending down, I pulled the boot off my sw
ollen ankle and chucked it at Eagan’s head. He stiffened and slowly turned toward me, his face an unreadable mask.

“What was it you said before?
” I taunted him. “Oh, yeah. ‘I’m not the monster you take me to be.’ Well, you were right. You’re much, much worse.”

He flinched
at my words, but didn’t take his eyes from mine. Seconds dragged by as he stared through me, unmoving but for a muscle in his jaw. Silence hung so thick that the sound of Aiden’s blood dripping onto the deck seemed to be amplified.

Eagan’s voice cut through the stillness with the precision of a freshly sharpened blade. “Untie him,” he ordered.

“But captain—” Several of his crewmen started to protest, but Eagan whirled around, snarling.

“I said, untie him!
Now!” He threw the bloodied flogger onto the ground at his feet in disgust. Then his men rushed to do his bidding, removing the bindings from Aiden’s hands. He slumped into their arms so that they practically had to carry him past us and back down the hall toward his chamber. He didn’t meet my eyes and it was just as well because I couldn’t face him. Not after what he’d done.

“Lindsey…” Eagan
sounded strained and weary as he raked a hand through his hair.

I put up one hand to stop him
. “No. I can’t talk to you.” With only one shoe and a twisted ankle, I hobbled away from him, wishing I had anywhere to go but back to his bedroom.

When I reached the captain’s quarters, I curled up into a ball on the bed and cried until no more tears would come. I felt scraped raw on the inside, like my heart was nothing more than a hollowed out shell. I hated them both. The rational part of my brain argued that Aiden couldn’t be blamed, that this was war for all he knew, and the Spaniard did betray the Scots, causing Aiden’s family to be blown to smithereens. What would I have done if I were in his shoes? And Eagan was the captain of an English ship. How could he command the respect of his men if he were to stand by and do nothing in response to Delgado’s death?

Only, he’s not really an English captain,
I reminded myself.
He’s the ruler of the Between realm and he’s concocted this whole nightmare just to torture me. He’s evil and awful and wicked and messing with my head and making me insane and I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!

But he stopped,
my subconscious piped up.
He stopped for me.

Burying my head in my pillow, I let out a scream of frustration at the miserable unfairness of it all. I felt powerless and confused, like I was in the middle of a dark tunnel with no light at
either end. Hopelessness pressed down on me with a lead fist. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I did something I’d never done before in my life. I slid off the bed and knelt on the floor, then clasped my hands in front of me and bowed my head. I’d prayed before, but I’d never assumed the position of submission. It felt weird and I wasn’t entirely sure it mattered how I prayed, but I was willing to try anything. I remembered seeing a painting once of a little boy in old-fashioned pajamas, the type with the button-up flap covering his bottom. He was kneeling and praying at his bedside with his puppy dog next to him, and the flap had come undone so that part of his bottom showed. My lips twisted at the image, and I felt a kinship with that toddler because in that position, I felt exposed, open and vulnerable in a way I never had before. I was at the end of my rope and I had nowhere left to turn. My heart was cracking with every shaking breath I drew. And so I prayed.

I prayed for God to intercede, for him to give me strength, for him to help me know what I should do. I prayed for my parents, for God to b
e with them, to give them peace, and for Ian and Sarah, who took us in and made us feel like family.

But mostly I prayed for Aiden.

Aiden had morphed into something I didn’t recognize, but I still loved him with all of my heart. The pain at seeing him like this was unbearable, and I prayed for God to forgive him, to help him, to heal him.

But w
hen my thoughts turned to Eagan, my heart stuttered. I was a swirling mass of conflicting emotions about him, but in the end, I prayed for him, too. I knelt there until my legs fell asleep and my muscles had seized up so that I could hardly move, and then I crawled into the bed, pulled the covers up to my cheeks, and prayed some more. I’d hoped to receive some reassurance that God was listening, to feel His presence, but I didn’t. All I felt was empty.

Chapter 16

Aiden looked resplendent in his hunter green jacket as he whirled me around the dance floor. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors that ran the length of the room in
La Galérie des Glaces
reflected our bodies as we twirled and dipped to the lilting music of the orchestra. Joy bloomed in my chest at the violins’ familiar melody. The lace on my sleeves tickled my wrists with the breeze of our spinning and my skirts rustled around my legs. The tempo increased with each pass we made across the room until I was breathing hard and struggling to keep up. I sent Aiden a message in my mind that we needed to slow down, but he didn’t answer. Instead, his grip tightened and he spun me faster, back and forth, around and around. My dress caught under the heel of one shoe and I started to fall. I flung my hands out wide to try and catch myself, but Aiden’s fingers clamped down on mine and yanked me upright. Gasping for air, I flattened my palm over my chest and turned to face him.

His smile shone brightly as though nothing
was out of place, but blood began streaming from the edges of his mouth, cascading down his chest and onto the floor. A scream lodged in my throat. Aiden threw his head back in laughter. Blood sprayed across my dress and speckled my cheeks. Wrenching free from the monster in front of me, I slipped and fell on a slick, crimson puddle. Two heartbeats of pure horror later, I landed with a hard thud on my backside and woke from my nightmare.

I’d fallen off the bed in Eagan’s room. No, I’d been flung off the bed by the violent rocking of the boat. Even as I sat up on the floor, I had to fight a wave of nausea as the ship rolled viciously underneath me. The oil lamp
fastened to the wall threw ghostly streaks of light across the room. I reached out a hand and gripped the bed, attempting to stand, then the next wave hit and threw me back against the wall, so I wedged myself next to the bed and hooked an arm around the frame for an anchor. The ship groaned and squeaked like nails being driven out of boards. The thumping of my extra boots rattling inside the armoire made it sound like someone was pounding on the panels, trying to escape.

Freaked beyond all reason, I shot to my feet and ran
a crazy zigzag toward the bedroom door. I nearly fell as the floor shifted beneath me, but I was able to catch myself with one hand on the back of a chair. I launched myself down the hall toward the deck. Dark thunderclouds roiled overhead as a sheet of rain lashed the boat. Men were scrambling to lower the sails, their shouts swallowed up by the storm. Needles of rain pelted my face and forced me back, so I braced myself in the archway leading out to the deck. Squinting through the deluge, I could make out Eagan’s soaked form as he furiously yanked on the rigging that connected to the sails. One of the lines was apparently stuck and kept the sail from being retracted, which only exacerbated the wind’s effect on the ship. Willie scrambled up the mast with his eyes squeezed shut as his red hair whipped him in the face. I screamed his name, but it was lost on the wind, so all I could do was watch and hold on. To my left, a monstrous wave reached up like a fist and slammed onto the deck. The ship tilted hard to one side so that the sails were nearly parallel to the water. We were a hair’s breadth from capsizing. My heart screeched to a halt as Eagan lost his footing and slid toward the black, churning sea. His hands flailed, seeking something to grab onto, and finally caught on the railing. Another man came crashing into him, nearly tossing him overboard. The sailor’s body rolled over Eagan’s and would have been lost forever if Eagan had not grabbed hold of the back of his shirt as he fell. The boat righted itself, swinging back the other direction with vicious force. Eagan used the momentum to fling the man like a shot-put onto the deck where he was able to hook one arm around the center mast. Eagan’s head turned just then and our eyes locked. Anger and fear exploded on his face at the sight of me in the archway. He shook his head and pointed at me. I couldn’t hear his words, but I knew what “GO!” looked like, so I turned and fled back to his chambers.

The storm raged on for hours, wringing my sanity from me so that I was a limp, lifeless doll by the time the boat settled back into its normal swaying motion. Having already tossed every cookie imaginable into the chamber pot, I fell asleep
on the bed, curled into the fetal position. Somewhere in the middle of the night, the squeak of the bedroom door opening woke me. Eagan stood in the doorway, a shadow of the man he’d been when I first met him. All his confidence had been leeched out of him. He just stood there, broken and soaked to the bone. His shoulders hunched in defeat as he shook with the cold. Wordlessly, he closed the door behind him and crossed to the armoire where he proceeded to strip out of his sopping wet clothes. His boots made a sucking sound as he pulled them free, then dropped them with a thud onto the hardwood floor. I knew I shouldn’t stare, but sleep had addled my brain and I couldn’t force my gaze away as he undressed. With every piece of clothing that hit the floor, my heart raced faster until it was hammering against my ribs so hard, I thought it might break through. Naked and facing away from me, Eagan withdrew a long nightshirt from the armoire and slipped it over his head.

When he turned and his eyes met mine, all swagger and smirk was gone. He looked beaten, weary, and chilled
clear through.

“What happened?” I whispered, though my voice sounded amplified in the stillness of the room. He didn’t answer at first and when he did, the words sliced through me.

“I lost Stanton. I couldn’t save him.” Self-recrimination etched itself on his face and his chest heaved as though he were having trouble drawing a breath. “But the boy is fine. Willie is safe.” I didn’t know what to say. I just stared at him, compassion and heartache welling up inside me. He moved to the settee, gathered up the blanket lying there, and wrapped it around his shivering body, then started to lie down, but I stopped him.

“No. Come to bed.”

Tired, bloodshot eyes rose to meet mine. I nodded in answer to the question I saw in them. He straightened and dropped the blanket, then moved like a ghost to join me on the bed. Pulling back the covers, he slipped underneath, then curled his body around my own. I gasped out loud at the icy touch of his feet against mine, then started rubbing them to try and warm him. His hand slid across my stomach and I stroked his forearm back and forth, back and forth, waiting for his body temperature to rise. He snuggled his face against my neck and pulled in a labored breath. Hot tears landed on my skin as his chest shook against my back.

“I’m here, I’m right here,” I said, making soothing noises as I laced our fingers together. His muffled sobs were tearing me apart.

“He drowned. I watched him fall overboard and I couldn’t reach him in time.” His voice crumbled and fell apart with each word. My heart cracked in half at the grief and pain that wracked his body.

“Shhh… I’ve got you,” I said, drawing his arm tighter around me and pressing back into him. He clutched me tight, like I was a lifeline and he was the one abandoned to the thrashing sea. Finally, his breathing slowed and his hold loosened
as exhaustion took him.

In the flickering light of the oil lamp, I listened to Eagan’s breaths—in, out, in, out—and
tried to make sense of the twisting emotions that held me captive. Aiden was somewhere below, his back raw and beaten as punishment for his crime. The shock at seeing him covered in Delgado’s blood had not worn off. I still couldn’t believe he’d done something so savage. I felt like I didn’t know him at all. Maybe the three hundred years he’d spent in Between had made him into the man I loved, and without that, he was…something else entirely. But he’d told me he loved me and I believed him.

But
what about Eagan? My thoughts swung back to the man pressed against me. Though he clearly had contempt for Aiden, he’d never done anything underhanded or vicious like I would expect of a hell transporter. In fact, he wasn’t anything like I expected. He was generous, caring, and loyal. Was it all an act? Was this nothing more than some elaborate ploy to win my affection? And then what? And what if it worked? What if, honestly, in the marrow of my bones, I felt myself not just torn, but actually walking through the darkness toward the enemy with my heart in my hands?

My eyelids drooped once, twice, three times, until I quit struggling and let the dark current pull me under.