“For what, Georgia? Tell me!” I yelled.
“For bringing me here,” said a low voice, and Lucien stepped into the picture and put a knife to Georgia’s throat.
“Open the gate or I’ll kill her.” The evil words affected me as much as if Lucien were standing next to me instead of across a courtyard behind a locked gate.
“I’m sorry, Katie,” Georgia cried softly.
I lifted my finger to the button with a key symbol under it.
Gaspard began running down the stairs behind me. “Don’t!” he cried.
“But he’ll kill my sister!”
“I’ll give you three seconds before I slit her throat,” came Lucien’s voice over the speakerphone. “Three . . .”
“I only have my swordstick . . . wait till I can get to the armory,” yelled Gaspard, reaching the bottom of the staircase and hurtling toward me.
“Two . . .”
I looked back at Gaspard in desperation as I pushed the button. The gate unlocked.
“Lock the door behind me, Gaspard, and don’t let him in. You have to protect Vincent!” I called. And then I leaped outside, slamming the door behind me, and turned to face the devil.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
LUCIEN STOOD IN THE COURTYARD BEFORE ME, holding the knife to Georgia’s back.
“Good evening, Kate,” he said in a cold, even voice. His expression was murderous, and his enormous frame seemed twice as big now that he was looming over me. How Georgia could ever have seen anything seductive in this terrifying monster was beyond me.
“Now be a good girl and take me inside.”
“I can’t,” I said. “It’s locked. I can’t do a thing for you now, so you can let Georgia go.” I felt like I had won this round, but had no idea what would come next.
“Gaspard, I know you’re in there,” yelled Lucien. “Now come out or you’ll have the blood of two humans on your hands.”
Before he could finish, the door opened and Gaspard walked out, holding the cane-sword before him.
“No, don’t, Gaspard!” I yelled. What is he doing? I thought wildly. He had to stay locked in the house, protecting Vincent. My sister was my responsibility alone.
Gaspard ignored me. Advancing, he said evenly, “Lucien, you vile leech. What brings your putrid corpse to our humble doorstep this fine evening?” He had recaptured the noble air he wore the day I saw him sparring with Vincent. The twitchy, stuttering poet had transformed into the formidable fighter.
Lucien stepped toward him, and I grabbed Georgia’s arm and pulled her away. “Let’s make a run for it,” I whispered, keeping an eye on the men.
“You seem to be sorely lacking in weaponry tonight, you sad excuse for an immortal,” Lucien growled.
“Mine seems a blade of equal merit to the bread knife you carry, you loathsome maggot,” Gaspard said, and lunged at Lucien with the sword, making a clean slice across the giant’s cheek.
Although a small trickle of blood ran from it, Lucien didn’t even flinch. “Equal, perhaps, you farcical lifeguard-Lazarus, but that’s why I brought backup.” And he pulled a gun from under his coat and shot Gaspard point-blank between the eyes.
The older revenant staggered backward a couple of steps as his forehead absorbed the bullet. Then in slow motion it spit it back out and the bullet fell, clinking as it bounced against the pavement. Lucien used the couple of seconds that Gaspard was stunned to leap on him and push him to the ground.
I took Georgia’s hand and began running with her toward the gate. “Stop right there or I’ll shoot you both,” Lucien said, pointing the gun in our direction as he straddled Gaspard’s struggling body. We froze. “Now walk back here. You’re coming with me.” He watched, motionless, as we approached. “Closer,” he commanded. Once we were within arm’s reach, he replaced the gun in its holster.
Then, taking his massive knife, he swung it high in the air before bringing it down like a machete on Gaspard’s neck. Georgia and I screamed as one, an earsplitting shriek, and we grabbed each other, tearfully hiding in each other’s arms from the horror.
“A bit squeamish, are we, ladies? Well, there’s more to come. Now inside, both of you,” he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping the blade before holding it out toward us.
I couldn’t bear to look back at Gaspard as I walked obediently into the foyer. Lucien glanced quickly around. “Nice pad they’ve got here.” His eyes flashed back to me with a piercing glare. “Now show me where he is.”
“Who?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Who do you think? Lover-boy,” he sneered, stepping closer to me and pushing Georgia between us.
“He’s—he’s not here,” I stammered.