No, I realized, not happy. Giddy—giddy that he was about to act out his sadistic dream yet again.
Well, I hoped he enjoyed it, because his dream was quickly going to turn into the worst fucking nightmare of his life.
“Now we can finally get started,” Porter chirped in a high, almost manic voice that was completely different from his usual soft tone. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a special guest here. You can imagine how excited I am.”
“Oh, yeah,” I drawled. “It’s been less than a week since you kidnapped a woman, dolled her up, brought her here, and beat and strangled her to death. Can’t imagine how you’ve lasted so long without all of that.”
Anger sparked in the dwarf’s eyes that I wasn’t playing along with him, but he forced himself to dampen it down. He’d gone to too much trouble to kill me just yet. His gaze flicked over to the fireplace, and I spotted a photo sitting on the mantel, one of Maria Rivera.
It was the exact same photo that I’d seen in Damian’s office, the one of him standing with Maria and his father, Richard. At least, it used to be the same photo. Someone had cropped both Damian and his father out of the picture, leaving only Maria, with Porter now standing right beside her instead of off in the distance like he was in the original photo. So I’d been right when I’d thought that this was all about Maria. I’d just associated her with the wrong man.
“So this is all about her?” I asked. “You kidnapped and killed all those women trying to find a replacement for Maria? Let me guess. You were in love with her, and it didn’t end well.”
Porter kept staring at that photo, his expression softening with fond memories. “My father worked for hers, and my family lived here in this cottage. The two of us grew up together. I loved her from the first moment I saw her, ever since we were kids. She was always so beautiful, so elegant, so classy. Nobody had style like Maria did.”
“So what happened?”
I was totally stringing him along, trying to keep him talking long enough for me to figure some way out of here. Even with my magic, it would still take me precious seconds to break free of my chair and the ropes that tied me down. Given his dwarven strength, Porter could easily kill me with one blow if he hit me in just the right spot. I needed to find some way to incapacitate him first. Then I could work on getting out of my chair.
Porter kept looking at the photo of Maria. “When we were eighteen, I told her how I felt about her and asked her to run away with me.” His smile vanished, and the happy light was snuffed out of his eyes. “But she didn’t want to run away. She said that she didn’t want to leave her parents behind.”
More likely, she didn’t want to leave their massive fortune behind, but I kept my mouth shut, still analyzing my situation. For as strong an elemental as I was, my Ice magic was useless right now. An Ice dagger wouldn’t help me cut through my ropes, and since my hands were tied down, I couldn’t even raise my wrist and send a spray of them shooting out at Porter.
“So you loved Maria, but she wouldn’t go with you,” I said, just to keep the conversation going, just to keep him prattling on about the past. “And eventually, she married Richard Rivera.”
“It wasn’t her fault,” he growled. “It was her parents. They never liked me.”
Couldn’t imagine why.
“They made her marry Richard. But he didn’t love her. He didn’t appreciate her. Not like I did. All Richard was interested in was drinking and having affairs and spending her money. He broke Maria’s heart over and over again.” Porter shrugged. “So I finally killed him when Damian was a teenager. Made it look like a car accident.”
That got my attention, and I looked at him again. “Does Damian know that you murdered his father?”
He airily waved his hand the same way that Damian had done earlier, dismissing his own evil deed. “Of course not. I covered my tracks very well. I always do. Besides, the boy was better off without him.”
“So you killed Damian’s father and had Maria all to yourself again.”
Porter nodded, smiling widely again. “For a while, everything was wonderful. Of course, I gave Maria plenty of time to mourn. I’m not a complete monster.”
Oh, no. Not a complete monster.
But I held my tongue and went back to my own problem of how to escape. Since I’d ruled out using my Ice magic, I focused on my Stone power. But it wouldn’t help me cut through my ropes any more than my Ice magic would. So I asked him some more questions, trying to buy myself some more time to figure this out.
“And what about Damian? What does he think about your obsession with his dead mother and all the women that you kill in her place?”
Porter snorted in disgust. “Damian’s always been far too interested in his booze and broads to think about anything else, including his mother. He’s just like his father that way. As long as I keep him happy and cover up his drunken messes, he lets me do as I please. He understands that I know what’s best for him.”
I wondered if Damian was really as self-centered and oblivious as Porter thought. Or maybe Damian realized that if he didn’t go along with the dwarf that he would end up dead in a supposed car accident just like his father had.
“But finally, I got tired of waiting for Maria, and I told her that now that her parents were gone and Richard was dead, it was finally time for us to be together.” Porter shook his head. “But she didn’t react the way I expected. Not at all.”
This time, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut or keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “Let me guess. Maria said that she only thought of you as a friend. That she just didn’t love you and that the two of you were never going to be together the way you wanted. Maybe she even tried to break it to you gently, but that’s when you finally snapped.”
Something else occurred to me, something that I’d read in the information that Finn and Silvio had compiled for me on the Rivera family. “Maria died in a car accident too, didn’t she? Several years ago. Let me guess. More of your handiwork.”
Porter shook his head. “I didn’t mean to hit her. It just happened. She just made me so angry, saying that she could never be with me. That I was just a friend. That she appreciated my service and my loyalty, but there could never be anything more between us. Why couldn’t she see how much I loved her? Why did she have to make me kill her? Why . . .”
He kept right on talking, but I tuned him out, much more interested in what the stones of the cottage suddenly had to say. All around us, they started muttering, responding to Porter’s dark, dark rage.