Ignoring her, he went to the liquor cart and made free with it, lifting one bottle, then another. He shuddered. “Whiskey—I hate the stuff.”
Alexa’s eyes went to the door. She lifted a shoulder. “Whiskey was my brother’s drink of choice, not mine.”
“Where’s the damned—ah, here it is.” He procured two snifters and began pouring from a crystal decanter. Did he really imagine she would drink with him?
“If you’re not going to leave, then I am.” She stalked past him, her pulse tripping. Why was she so afraid of him? Perhaps it was that bizarre disguise. Perhaps it was the fact that his dead son lay upstairs, waiting to be discovered.
And then he was standing in her path, not three feet away. She stepped back, words bursting from her. “Why are you here—and why in disguise?”
He flicked his beard, smiling. “Do you like it?”
“Excuse me,” she said. Twitching her skirt, she tried to step around him.
Again he blocked her. “Before you go, join me in a drink.” He held one of the snifters in his hands out to her.
“I don’t—”
“One drink. Then you may leave.” He smiled. “In fact, I’ll help you do so.”
“Water, then.”
He gestured toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable.” Realizing he wasn’t going to budge, she did as he insisted. Keeping an eye on her, he returned to the cart and poured her drink of choice.
Then he brought her glass to her. Before she drank, he tipped his own glass toward hers with a soft clink.
“Salute
.
”
She rolled her eyes, automatically drinking. She was thirstier than she’d realized and swallowed half of her water before finally setting the glass on the side table.
“Good-bye, signor.” Leaping up, she made for the front door. This time he didn’t pursue her. She found out why, soon enough. The front door was locked—its key removed! When she turned, he was behind her.
He showed her the key he held in one hand, then made a show of dropping it into his pocket. From his other pocket, he pulled a pistol, aiming it at her. “And now we will stop all this foolishness.” He tossed away his disguise.
Her eyes went wide, her heart thumping with fear. “What—”
He took her by the nape and shoved her roughly in the direction he wished her to go. Knocking his pistol hand aside, she drove an elbow into his stomach. Then she veered away from the stairs toward the back of the house again, not realizing he was herding her in that very direction. They wound up in the library again, where they circled each other with only a sofa and boxes between them.
“And so we are back where we began,
cara
.” He smiled. “Which will make matters easier for me.” He shut the library doors, locking them.
There were three exits from the room, she knew. Those doors, the windows, and the door to the catacombs. Would he shoot her if she tried to escape? “What do you want?”
“Cooperation. I’ve had little enough of it from you since Venice. Although, back then, you were quite satisfyingly ... malleable.” He took a sip from his drink, considering her. “Poor Laslo, too stupid to realize what a tasty piece he’d wed.”
“What does that mean?” Alexa’s gaze scanned the room, searching for some sort of weapon.
“You really haven’t guessed, have you?” He laughed. “About my son’s attraction to men?”
“What? No! I don’t believe it. If he preferred men, then how did he ...” Her mind raced back to her wedding night, her brow knitting.
“Poor,
cara
. Can’t work it out for yourself?” He eyed her, one hand holding the pistol and the other swirling the liquid in the glass he held.
She froze, her eyes on the snifter. Cognac
brandy
. It was this man’s favored drink. She’d seen Laslo accept a glass of it now and then to hold as a prop in society. But she could never actually recall seeing him drink it. Had never smelled it on his breath until their wedding night.
A horrible notion crept into her mind. She tried to force it away, but as she searched Signor Tivoli’s eyes she read the despicable truth there.
“Oh god!”
“Ah, so you’ve finally deduced the truth.” He smiled at her. “What gave me away?”
She backed away from him, her gaze flicking to his drink.
“Hmm. My brandy, was it? Laslo never had the stomach for hard liquor. Or for women. I admit I looked forward to your wedding night. Figured you for a virgin, and was gratified to learn firsthand that I was right.”
Alexa sidled her way toward the fireplace, sick with realization that it was this man who had attacked her in darkness and violated her so cruelly. Never had she been so furious and so terrified! She snatched up an iron poker from the fireplace and held it threateningly before her with hands that shook. “Get out of my way,” she warned in a level voice.
“That won’t be possible, my dear. Not now that you know so many of my family secrets.” He lifted his glass, drinking.
She glanced toward the window. Perhaps she could smash it with her poker and leap from it to the street. Would he shoot her if she tried?
“You won’t make it,” he said. “And I
will
shoot you if I must. A murder-suicide would play well in the courts with you as perpetrator. And I’d still inherit everything.”
“Did you kill him, you awful man? Your own son?” When he calmly nodded, she tried not to let panic choke her. She had to keep him talking in hopes that she could somehow escape. He seemed to be toying with her. Waiting for something. But what? “Poor Laslo, he was nothing more than your puppet, was he?”
“He knew his duty. He didn’t fight your marriage. Appearances must be kept up. You know how it is in well-heeled families such as ours.”
“Yes, I know,” she snapped as they circled one another. “Like you, my mother was concerned with appearances, not with the happiness of her own children or with common decency. But why drag me into this?”
“It was this house. We all wanted it. Well, what’s below it, anyway.”
“We?” Her voice sounded tired. She
was
tired, she realized. And having difficulty keeping her eyes open.
“The Sons of Faunus,” he replied. His voice sounded strangely distant. “And once you are convicted of my son’s murder, this property will be mine.”
“I didn’t kill him!” she murmured.
“Doesn’t matter. The evidence is sufficiently damning nevertheless. A carcass in your room.” His eyes narrowed on her when she stumbled, seeming to weigh her strength, then he continued on. “I come from a family of architects, did you know? My grandfather built this house. I know every nook and cranny of it. Which is how I knew that there’s a hidden stair leading from the catacombs to your bedchamber.”
“What—?” she mumbled, unable in her confused state to make heads or tails of what he was telling her.
“Convenient for me,” he interrupted, “since you’d locked the catacombs entrance and your Satyr had bespelled the perimeter of this house. Neither proved an obstacle since we never crossed the outer perimeter in order to gain entrance. The two of you did make my task more difficult, though. I had to lure Laslo into the catacombs and on to your chamber via that narrow stair on the pretext that I had finally decided to let you have your divorce and it couldn’t wait. He came willingly, for a dissolution of your marriage was what he wanted as well.” Signor Tivoli’s lips curled. “Under the circumstances, my son was uncomfortable with the notion of his future husbandly duties, as you may well imagine.”
The poker fell from her hands, hitting the floor. She stared down at it dully. “You’re insane.”
“You’re the one who’ll be judged so when my son’s body is discovered upstairs.” Briskly setting his drink aside, he then tucked the pistol into the waistband of his trousers. “But don’t worry, you won’t stand trial. What I have planned will spare you that.”
“What’s happening ... ?” Alexa murmured. “You’ve drugged me ... the water I drank ...” Arms caught her as she slumped. The smell of brandy was strong in her nostrils, and she gagged, wanting to retch. But she was too tired even for that.
“Calm yourself,
cara,
” Signor Tivoli crooned to the lax body in his arms. Lifting her, he took her to the sofa, then stared down at her. She looked lovely lying there, unconscious. He wanted so badly to fuck her here and now, like this when she didn’t know. But he’d soon have his fill of her. Now was not the time.
Crossing the room, he pushed the lever that would allow him to open the door to the catacombs. “Like my father and grandfather before me, I was ordained into the Sons of Faunus. Over the years, I only practiced their rites on rare occasions, when I managed to get down here from Venice from time to time. However, the ranks of the Sons are dwindling of late, have you heard? Murders attributed to the ElseWorld lot.” He laughed softly. “Cleared the way for me.”
Going back to the sofa, he reached for her. “You’ll be pleased to know that I plan to revive your family’s business. There’s money to be made in Bona Dea, and I intend to make it. And as one of the Sons, I am entitled to lie with any of its Daughters... .”
Alexa managed to lift her hand against him, but it fumbled at pushing him away. “No,” she murmured in a woozy voice, her eyes still closed.
He made a
tsk
ing sound. “Come now. An anonymous message has already been sent to the
polizia
. They should be here shortly, so we must move things along. Wouldn’t want them to find us here, where you murdered my son.” Unconscious now, she made no reply.
Hoisting her over one shoulder, he made for the door that led to the tunnels. When she struggled, he smacked her rump. “If you were not so difficult, we could have formed an alliance. Alas. But you’ll learn, my dear. Soon you’ll take my cock when and how it pleases me. Within a few weeks of my tutelage, you’ll be begging for—”
The lock on the library door suddenly gave under a great weight, crashing wide open. Tivoli whirled around, yanking the pistol from his waistband.
Sevin burst inside, his voice cracking like a whip. “Let her go, you bastard!”
Backing toward the portal that led to the tunnels, Signor Tivoli lowered Alexa in front of him so that she would serve as a sort of shield. Holding her with one arm locked around her unconscious body, he aimed his pistol at her head. “Lord Satyr! I see you continue to make overly free with my property,” he chided. “But you won’t be building your new salon here, I’m afraid.”
“Who told you about that?” Sevin asked, trying to stall.
“Your little Romani whore. But I took care of her for you.”
“What are you saying?” Sevin’s brows rose in confusion as he carefully stalked the bastard who wanted to harm Alexa. “That you killed Clara?”
“No, you fool. Carmella did that. Jealous little thing. Thought if she did away with her elder sister, she could take her place in your affections.”
“Gods,” said Sevin, truly stricken by the news. “How did you come into contact with her?”
“I sold her the fey scent that allowed her to infiltrate your domain.”
“In exchange for?”
“A few fucks. And she proved a fount of information regarding your business and family.”
“And how was that of use to you?” Sevin asked, watching for an opening. Any opening. Just in case Luc didn’t find the hidden stair. Tivoli was the true fool here, so anxious to brag on his own evil plotting that he had momentarily forgotten the urgency of his plans.
“To undermine your family,” Tivoli said gleefully. “To fuel the flames of hatred, and thereby deflect any blame from me. But after the little explosive Ella set off in your salon—yes, that was at my behest—she knew too much.”
“And so you killed her?”
“Just this evening, as a matter of fact.” Nuzzling Alexa’s cheek, he smiled. “Don’t make me do the same to this one,” he taunted as he stepped backward, taking her with him into the tunnels. “How surprised she will be tomorrow when she wakes in her new accommodations. I will fuck her there when and how I like, until I tire of her. And then I’ll dispose of her as her mother did the others. Through the ancient sewer system.”
Behind him, Luc silently stepped into view, making himself known only to Sevin. Waiting. Then Tivoli moved the aim of his pistol, pointing it at Sevin’s heart. “But you’ll be long dead by then.”
Whipcord fast, Luc grabbed him and forced the hand holding the pistol to point at Tivoli’s head. Surprised, the bastard let go of Alexa. Sevin leaped forward and caught her before she fell. At the same moment, the pistol fired. It was still in Tivoli’s hand, but Luc’s finger was over his, helping him to press the trigger.
Sevin held Alexa’s lax figure against him, his arms around her. The two brothers stood over Signor Tivoli’s dead body.
“You found the staircase from her bedchamber, I see,” murmured Sevin.
Luc nodded. “His son is up there. Dead.”
“So this will be a murder-suicide as Tivoli suggested, only with him as the apparent perpetrator. He drugged Alexa, expecting to kill her, too. That’s how we’ll frame this for the authorities,” said Sevin.
“So his name is Tivoli.”
“You know him?”
“He was involved with Bona Dea,” Luc announced calmly. He nudged the man on the floor with the toe of his boot. “One of those nameless men who came to us in the catacombs.”
Sevin stilled, his eyes searching his brother’s face. Luc rarely revealed anything about his time in the tunnels, even under duress.
But Luc was hardly aware of his brother as he stood staring at the dead man, his mind returning to the past. “There was a girl down there once. She was younger even than I was. And so damned scared. We talked through the walls when she first came. She was sweet, innocent. I would have given my life to save hers, if only I—” He heaved a sigh, heavy with grief.
“Tivoli and one other man came one night,” he went on. “I listened while the two of them brutalized her. Heard her moans and cries fade away over the hours they abused her. Heard the guard take her out afterward and toss her into the underground stream that ran below the catacombs. Within a week, another girl took her place. When the new one cried, I ignored her. I learned to be detached, not to care.”