Chapter 20 #2
This didn’t satisfy Berking. His face red and his eyes bulging, he grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her face up to his. “But how did you know about the aconite? The other plant went missing from my garden. That must have been you!”
The hand pulling at her hair tightened viciously. Gasping in pain, Saffron opened her mouth to reply, but Alexander spoke.
“I did it, Berking. Let her go.”
Berking maintained his grip on her hair, but his raging eyes darted to Alexander. A sneer stretched across his face. “Really, Ashton? You expect me to believe you had something to do with my plant going missing?” He wrenched her hair again, eyes back on her. “What did you do with it?”
“I tried to give it to the inspector, but he laughed at me. Said it was just a plant in a botanist’s garden,” Saffron cried, praying he’d believe her and let her be.
Berking let go of her and went to the other side of the room, glaring at her and breathing hard. “What else do you know?”
“N-nothing,” Saffron whispered.
“She doesn’t know anything, Berking,” Alexander said, his voice loud and brash. His jaw was set, eyes flashing. “You’re mad if you think that you and Blake will get away with this scheme.”
Berking’s nostrils flared. “What do you know of it?”
Alexander, indifference gone and replaced by a cold look of anger, said quickly, “You’ve been embezzling and want to pin it on Dr. Henry. Saffron had nothing to do with this—it was all me. I’ve been the one trying to figure it all out. Don’t touch her.”
Berking seemed to consider Alexander’s words. “I don’t believe you, Ashton,” Berking said quietly. He took a step over to Alexander and moved his chair, too, to face him.
Saffron’s stomach tightened at the sight of his darkening bruised eye, the blood on his face.
Berking’s voice was a venomous hiss in Alexander’s ear. “I don’t believe that you figured out where my aconite strain was growing. The two of you have been huddled up together—”
With a shocking crack, Alexander smashed his head into Berking’s. Berking fell back with a grunt, his body thudding to the floor. Alexander, still bound to the chair, struggled to his feet. Saffron tried to do the same but only managed to fall back and push her chair a few inches toward the wall.
Berking was already getting to his feet, blearily rubbing at his head. “You’re a dead man, Ashton,” he growled.
Saffron struggled against the rope. She had only a second to try to help Alexander do something, anything—
But Berking was on his feet. With a grunt of effort, he sent his fist careening into Alexander’s temple, the same place he’d been hit by Blake before.
Alexander fell, the back of his head cracking against the wood floor with a resounding finality that brought a cry from Saffron’s lips.
Berking stood, breathing heavily and gazing down at Alexander’s still form. Then, he laughed. The sound lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.
Saffron realized she was shaking all over, her teeth chattering in her skull. Blake was cold-blooded, and Berking a madman. Even if the xolotl didn’t kill Alexander and her, the two men would find a way to keep them quiet.
“Oh, Miss Everleigh”—Berking wiped a hand over his eye, turning to her—“it’s a pity Mr. Ashton won’t be awake to watch what happens next.”
Berking slowly moved to stand over her. A terrible smile stretched his features.
His knee roughly shoved hers apart, and she cried out in alarm.
He grabbed Saffron’s hair again and jerked her chin back, exposing her neck.
With agonizing slowness, Berking ran a thick finger down the column of her throat.
The furious gleam in his eye turned to something more evil.
Berking leaned forward, his hands settling on the chair on either side of her head, making her feel even more trapped than the ropes she strained against. “It could have been much easier, Miss Everleigh, and so much more pleasant for you if you’d accepted me weeks ago,” he said.
“You might have even enjoyed it, but now …”
With a chuckle that made bile rise in Saffron’s throat, Berking stroked a finger along her collarbone.
“Blake might be no nonsense, but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
Such a delicate creature, just waiting for me to teach her why she can’t tell me no.
” His finger trailed lower, taking the tie of her blouse and slipping the bow loose.
Her attempts to jerk away from him were futile.
His small eyes were locked on hers, enjoying the absolute panic he was causing.
“P-please,” she whispered.
Her ears rang so badly with alarm that she barely heard Berking’s next words, hissed into her ear. “Maybe I’ll wait, so Mr. Ashton can watch.”
Gasping, hands fighting the rope at her wrists, Saffron whispered, “No, please—”
Berking shoved Saffron back, making her head smack against the wall behind her and the chair wobble dangerously. He demanded with a terrible voice, “Then what do you know?”
“N-nothing,” Saffron whispered, eyes darting from Berking’s horrible face to the door. When was Blake coming back? Would he put a stop to this? It was ridiculous to hope for Blake’s return, so ridiculous she wanted to scream—
Good God, why didn’t she?
She drew in breath, but Berking anticipated her. He closed his hand over her mouth and whispered, “You don’t want to know how I used his method to improve my aconite yield?” He leaned forward until his hot breath was in her ear. “You don’t want to know how your father helped me create my poison?”
He leaned back to watch her face. The malevolence in his eyes caused dread to collect in her belly. Something in her eyes must have satisfied him, for his hand slowly released her mouth.
Almost against her will, Saffron asked, “What are you talking about?”
Berking studied her, then guffawed, throwing his head back in sudden and absolute delight. “You don’t know? You stupid girl, you didn’t recognize your father’s hand in my work?”
Saffron gaped at him. Part of her mind, the part interested in her survival, demanded her to be silent, to ignore his baiting. But a louder part, the one that had gotten her into this mess to begin with, wanted to understand. Had she been right to fear this connection?
“My father had nothing to do with your … experiment,” Saffron choked out.
“Oh, but he did.” Berking’s voice dropped into something soft and insidious.
“When I joined the department, I inherited all of the previous head’s items, including mounds and mounds of paperwork.
And what did I find in those stacks one day?
A lone file, forgotten and unimportant, at the bottom of the pile, and a request for a meeting regarding a proposed study about breeding programs to enhance natural chemicals found in plants.
” His smile grew at the look of apprehension on Saffron’s face.
“I wonder, whatever was his purpose for such experiments? It wasn’t in any of his published work. Strange, isn’t it?”
Again, Saffron was silent. She had nothing to say, only questions.
Berking must have mistaken her silence for insubordination. “Not going to tempt you, Miss Everleigh? Fine.”
Berking’s thick hands flew to her neck, causing her to gasp as they closed on her throat. His palms dug painfully into her neck, closing around her airway. “You baited Blake with your family’s money. You know who he is, don’t you! Tell me what you know, or—”
Dots danced in Saffron’s vision, but she saw Blake enter the room, carrying glasses in which bright yellow leaves floated in steaming water.
He didn’t look surprised at the scene in front of him, Berking choking Saffron while Alexander, still tied to his chair, remained unconscious on the floor. He looked annoyed.
“Berking, enough of this melodrama. Let her go.”
Berking’s hands remained on her throat, and she gasped for breath. He was panting slightly and looked completely insane, eyes wild and face flushed with excitement.
Blake sighed and put the glasses down on a small table next to the couch. He pulled out the gun and pointed it at Berking. “Berking, let her go now.”
Berking blinked at Blake, nonplussed. He slowly removed his hands, sending Saffron into a paroxysm of coughing and sputtering. “No need for that. Just checking to see how much they know,” Berking muttered.
“It doesn’t matter what they know; they’ll be dead in a few minutes. We’ll be off with our money and with our scapegoat in place,” Blake said, gun still pointed at Berking. With his other hand he smoothed his hair.
Desperate for a hint of humanity, Saffron spoke with a rasp. “Mr. Blake, please—”
Blake, his eyes flashing, took a step toward Alexander and pointed the gun to where he lay on the floor. He cocked the hammer.
“Next time you speak,” Blake said coldly, “it’ll be a bullet through his body, Miss Everleigh.
Berking may have no discipline, but you’ll find that I do.
I’ve waited a long time for this, and I find myself a little impatient.
I’m not going to torture you for answers, nor will I tolerate anything further from you. ”
Saffron believed him. Her hopes of convincing Blake to let them go, or simply tie them up while he and Berking escaped the country, were silenced.
Tears streamed down her face as she looked between Blake, who’d gone back to examining the yellowing water in the glasses, and Alexander, praying for his eyes to open.
“We can give it to her first,” Blake said to Berking. “Then when he wakes up, we can give it to him.”
Berking nodded, apparently cowed by his cold partner.
Saffron watched them, her heart pounding, as they brought the glass near her.
She desperately tried to remember what shade of yellow her own infusion of xolotl had been.
She had put in three leaves of medium size.
There were four in her glass now, and she didn’t know how long they’d been steeping.
Alexander’s would likely steep until he woke up.
What would that strength of infusion do to him?
The two men stood over her. Berking wrenched her hair back once again, forcing her mouth open with his other hand.
Her breath caught in her throat when Blake touched the hot glass to her lips.
She sputtered and his eyes narrowed. He took the gun from his waistband and pointed it toward Alexander once more.
Saffron stopped struggling. The hot, bitter liquid poured into her throat, and she gagged.
“Drink it,” Blake demanded.
She drank. The lightning strike of pain hit, and the world around her went dark.
“It is supposed to be incredibly toxic.”
“Check her heartbeat.”
The voices, quiet as they were, echoed and rang in Alexander’s aching head.
“Very fast,” Berking’s voice reported.
“Looks almost the same as our little concoction. No wonder they believe xolotl nearly did in my dear Cynthia.”
They’d given xolotl to Saffron?
Footsteps, then there came the swish of fabric on leather.
His head throbbed from all angles. How much longer would they wait before they started hitting him to wake him up? He could withstand a lot of pain, but Berking was clearly bloodthirsty, and Blake indifferent.
“Did you get the rest of the aconite?” Blake asked from across the room, sounding as if he was merely asking about the weather. “We might find it useful before long.”
“No, the damned girl took it,” Berking said. “Had to give the other two plants to Glass to make more of the solution, but he said it wouldn’t be ready for another few days.”
“We’ll have to leave it behind then,” Blake replied. “We can’t wait around for another batch. After we’re done here, we’re leaving. You’re quite sure Glass has been paid off well enough to keep him quiet?”
Alexander’s mind was roused at the mention of Glass. Who Berking had written the check to? Not a bet, after all, but for making the poison.
Berking grunted unhappily and agreed. “He came back for more after he heard of the investigation, but I’ve paid him half a fortune. He should keep quiet.”
“And there’s no one else?” Blake’s voice was quiet, but razor-sharp. There was a huff from Berking. “If you try to cross me, Berking—”
“You’ll what?” Berking growled. “You’ll trick me out of my money, Harper?”
Blake’s name was Harper?
Blake let out a laugh, a cold, humorless sound. “You can think that I’m merely a con man, if it puts your mind at ease.”
A long, quiet moment passed, interrupted only by Berking’s heavy pacing footsteps and inaudible grumbling.
Alexander’s mind worked to make sense of what he’d heard.
Blake, or Harper, was a con man. Being in charge of the university’s funds must have given him ample opportunity.
How much had he swindled from the school?
He heard only their breathing and shifting about. Surely by now, Saffron should have been waking up and getting sick. How long had he been unconscious? How much xolotl infusion had they given her? How strong was it?
Berking was pacing around again, cursing the xolotl and its damned yellow leaves.
“Fine, Berking, wake up Ashton,” Blake said, as though he were telling a child he could have a treat after all. “Wake him up and let’s be done.”
Rough hands grabbed his shirtfront and hauled him upward in a nauseating rush.
Alexander opened his eyes and blinked away the sting of the slap Berking had dealt him.
He caught sight of Saffron, slumped in the chair and still bound to it.
He opened his mouth, but Blake took a step nearer to Saffron and pointed his pistol at her.
“Not a word, Ashton, unless you want to see her die right now.”
He wasn’t going to beg for them to see reason, though it appeared Blake wouldn’t give him the chance to, anyway. If Saffron had survived her first dose, then maybe they would both live through this. Resigning himself, Alexander closed his mouth and glared at Blake.
Berking’s fingers dug into his scalp as he forced his head back.
Blake poured the liquid down his throat.
Alexander’s eyes watered at the bitter, tangy taste.
They forced the entire glass down and were just picking Saffron’s unfinished glass up when the lightning strike shot through Alexander.
His back arched against the chair and he gasped for breath before falling into darkness.