Adrenaline sizzled through Kendra as she sprang from the bed, swinging the one-pound chain like a medieval flail. It struck Morland on the side of his face with a satisfying crack. His cheek split open, pouring blood. With a stunned howl of pain and rage, he stumbled back.
She swung the chain around again, but Morland’s legs tangled with Thomas’s body, and he was saved from another lash by falling on his ass.
The element of surprise was officially lost. Kendra launched herself at Morland, straddling him as she brought the chain up and around his throat. His face turned bright red, his eyes bulging, as he tried to loosen the yoke. Apparently realizing she had the advantage, he eventually let go and began punching her on the side of her head.
Once, twice, three times. Her ears rang from the blows and her vision blurred. She tried to twist away without letting go of the chain, her biceps trembling.
Kendra yelped as pain seared down her hip. Her eyes snapped down, and saw her dress turn crimson. Her gaze went to the knife Morland held. She’d forgotten about the damn knife.
Abruptly, she let go of the chain and rolled off him, staggering to her feet. Her side was a blaze of agony, but she never took her eyes off him. They were both breathing raggedly. The harsh sound filled the room along with the coppery scent of blood: Thomas’s, Morland’s, hers.
“Now who’s not in their best looks?” she taunted even though the right side of her face felt swollen and sore from the beating. Her eyes darted to the table, which held the knives. They were closer to Morland. To get to them, she’d have to go through the bastard.
“I’m going to kill you!” Morland’s voice was raspy from her attempt to crush his larynx. Bruises circled his throat. It gave her some satisfaction to know that she’d inflicted the same wounds on him that he’d given to countless women. She said nothing to his threat, conserving her energy.
Morland got to his feet, his gaze flat and cold. They eyed each other, two predators who understood the stakes. There could be only one victor—unless they killed each other.
Morland rushed forward, the knife held high in one hand. Kendra tensed, her attention focused on the blade. As he brought it arcing down toward her, she catapulted herself forward, grabbing his wrist and twisting sharply, the same classic policeman’s maneuver that she’d used against Thomas in the forest.
Morland let out a cry and dropped the knife. But he was bigger, stronger, and smarter than Thomas. Instead of falling to his knees, he gave a punishing kick that knocked her sideways, loosening her grip. He twisted, striking her again, and they both fell in a tangled heap on the bed.
He rolled on top of her, pinioning her body beneath his. His eyes were wild as he brought his hands up to her throat, reversing their earlier position. Yellow dots swam in front of her eyes as his hands squeezed. But Kendra felt something sharp sticking into her side.
The hairpin.
Frantically, she swept the bed linens. It felt like forever, but it probably only took two seconds for her to find the slender wire and another second to grasp it. Then she brought her arm up and, with unerring accuracy fueled by desperation, she drove it into Morland’s left eye.
He screamed, a high-pitched sound of agony, and let her go. His hands flew to his face. Kendra didn’t wait; she brought her right hand up in a quick, powerful jab to the base of his eyebrows, and felt the gristle give way beneath the heel of her palm. She followed that with a one-two strike with her left hand, smashing his nose and punching upward, knowing that the bits of cartilage that she’d broke a second ago were now being forced up into his brain.
Morland made a strange gurgling sound. Kendra stared at the grotesque image above her. He hadn’t managed to pull out the hairpin before her attack, and it now protruded horrifyingly from his blind eye. His entire face was covered in blood.
He swayed almost drunkenly. Then he toppled to the bed beside her.
Kendra’s breath was coming out in such harsh gasps that she couldn’t tell whether Morland was breathing or not. If he survived, he’d have brain damage, she was sure. He wouldn’t be butchering any more women.
Slowly, painfully, she rolled away from him. She tried to stand, but her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor. She waited a minute, then managed to get to her hands and knees, shaking violently. She wondered if she could somehow crawl back to the castle, or if she’d die on the way.
70
The first thing that Alec saw when they ran into the cave was Gabriel’s prone form. “My God, Gabriel . . .” He rushed over to his brother, and at first thought him dead. Then he realized that Gabriel’s eyes were open, staring at him with awareness.
His gaze fell to Gabriel’s bloody hands. His brother had balled up a handkerchief and was pressing it into his stomach, but the handkerchief was saturated, so dark it looked black.
“Morland . . .” Gabriel coughed lightly, and with a terrible sense of foreboding, Alec saw flecks of blood on his lips.
“Don’t speak, Gabriel.”
“Morland . . .”
“We know. We know he’s the monster.”