A Bad Breed by Kat Ross

Author:Kat Ross [Ross, Kat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780999762110
Publisher: Acorn
Published: 2019-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Anne woke to bright sunlight spilling through the windows. For a moment, she had no idea where she was. Then she saw Gabriel sitting in a chair, looking haggard but more like himself. All traces of mud were gone. His hair was tied back in a black ribbon. He wore a blue frock coat and snug trousers and looked every inch the dapper country gentleman — had the year been 1760.

“That was a very stupid thing you did,” he growled as their eyes met.

“Good morning to you, too,” Anne retorted, sitting up against the headboard. Her arm was bandaged from wrist to shoulder with what looked like one of Gabriel’s old shirts. She felt woozy and hot. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have done the same if you were in my place.”

He leapt to his feet. “That doesn’t make it any less foolish!”

“How was I to know you had some vicious … pet … roaming the grounds? You never tell me anything. If you’d warned me, I might—” She bit her lip. There was no point in being nice to him anymore. He’d never let her out of his sight again. Anne looked down at the frilly nightgown and her fury redoubled. “And you undressed me.”

He threw his hands up. “You were soaked to the bone! Believe me, it was no great thrill.”

They glared at each other for a long moment.

“What was that?” she demanded. “Not a wolf or a dog. It felt like a bloody rhinoceros with teeth.”

Gabriel didn’t reply.

“It has to do with what you are, doesn’t it?” She studied him. “What was done to you, Gabriel?”

“Nothing was done to me. And I’m not a monster, whatever you might think.”

Her lip curled. “No? You killed those children in Mara Vardac.”

Gabriel stiffened, but the fight seemed to leave him. “That wasn’t me,” he muttered.

“Who then?”

He sank back into the chair and laid his head in his hands. “I made a terrible mistake, Anne. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. His name was Adrian.” Gabriel looked up at her with reddened eyes. “He paid for it. I tore his throat out myself, just as he did to the children.”

Anne stared at him until he turned away. “Let me go,” she said quietly. “I won’t tell anyone where this place is. You have my word. But you’ve no right to keep me here any longer.”

“I can’t.”

“No, you won’t. There’s a difference.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then help me to understand!”

“I never wanted you, Anne.” Gabriel sounded weary. “You shouldn’t have come to Saint George’s.” He stood and walked to the door. “But now it’s too late. I have to finish it. I have to.”

Anne prided herself on self-control, but his blind stubbornness shattered her calm into a thousand sharp pieces. Her hands trembled with rage.

“I was wrong,” she shouted at him. “There is a Hell. And you’re the Devil!”

Gabriel stared at her for a long moment. “You can stay in my bedroom until you’re well. Mr. Poe claims the death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.

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