Chapters (65)
- Cover
- Other Titles
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CAPRICIOUS
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- IN THE CARDS
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- LOVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- PHONE ISSUES
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- BONDING
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- SACRILEGE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- DEATH BY HELL-BIRD
- THE DARKNESS
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- FINALLY
- THE PACT
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- About the Author
The birds continued to dive and snatch bites of flesh, until the boy was covered in blood, and he’d stopped screaming and started to cry. That was all he could do. Lie against the branch and cry, sobbing deep sobs that were more terrible to hear than all the agonized screams of the guilty men.
“Just hurry,” he said between sobs. “Please. I’ve done nothing wrong, but if you must take me, at least show mercy.”
“They don’t know what that is,” Gabriel said.
I turned away and felt his arms go around me, wrapping tight around my head as if he could block the sound of the boy crying as I pressed my face to his chest.
“It’s not fair,” I said. “It’s just—”
The scene disappeared, and in the darkness I heard a voice saying, “It’s not fair!” A man’s voice, echoing as if through an empty room. A clang followed, like chains. Then the thump of a fist on wood and a low laugh as a woman’s voice said, “Do you think fair has anything to do with it, Duncan? It wasn’t fair that you left me to care for our son, abandoned me—”
“He is not my son. You already admitted that, and there’s no one here to lie for, Mary, so don’t bother. You married me because I had a good trade, made a bit of money, and I was too besotted to wonder what a girl like you saw in an old man like me.”
The scene cleared. We were in a room that stunk of old stone, with water weeping through the cracks. The man sat at a table, chained hand and foot. He wasn’t “old”—maybe mid-thirties—but the woman across from him was little more than a girl. She wore a beautiful dress and bonnet, and it might seem as if she’d put on a pretty frock to brighten the day of her imprisoned husband, but the contrast between his filthy rags and her spotless gown seemed a deliberate slap in the face.
“You left us, Duncan,” she said.
“With money,” he said between gritted teeth. “My child or not, the boy doesn’t deserve to suffer for his mother’s sins.”
“I need more.”
“And you killed my family to get it?”
“So you would inherit your due.”
“No, so you would inherit. I’m in here, framed for their murders. Does it amuse you, seeing me in chains, bound for the next ship to Australia? My only consolation is that you didn’t get to see me hang from a noose. That the judge wasn’t certain enough to sentence me to that.”
“Oh, but I made sure he didn’t. I bribed him.”
Silence.
Mary smiled. “Do you know why I spared you, Duncan? Give me your right arm, and I’ll show you.”