Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
Eric circled The High Street Exchange, inspecting it from every angle.
The stone edifice was four stories high and attached to the businesses on either side of it.
The cobblestone alley behind the structures stretched the entire block, and buildings butted up against it on both sides.
There were no trees or branches near the Exchange for Eric to use as ladders—one of Knight Roamer’s preferred climbing apparatuses.
Eric took note of the second and third-floor balconies, as well as a couple of dilapidated benches in the alley that were currently occupied by sleeping men wearing filthy clothing.
The roof to the left side of the Exchange was flat, so leaping from structure to structure, if it came to that, would be child’s play.
If need be, he could scale the back of the building, using bricks as steppingstones, but that was always risky in the daytime when people could see him.
Besides, these bricks were fairly even, leaving little room for his booted toes.
Of course, his method of entry depended on where Juliet was being held captive, and since he had not yet ascertained this information, the ground-floor entrance in the alley seemed his best bet.
He pushed on the back door, and thankfully, it opened. Ducking so that he didn’t hit his head on the low door frame, he entered.
The hallway was dark; however, a stream of light illuminated the stairwell to the left. Blood drops dotted every other step. Was it too much to pray that Juliet had inflicted the injuries on Riley, and he was the one bleeding?
Eric followed the red splashes to the second floor, where the trail ended at the door closest to him. Ear to the wood, he listened to what sounded like items crashing against the wall and a man screeching like a stuck pig. Chills crept up his spine.
Eric needed to get into the flat immediately. It would take too long to retrace his path to the alley, bribe the men to leave the benches so that he could pile them on top of each other, and then build a ladder to the second-floor balcony. He fiddled with the latch, but the door was locked.
Eric was decent at lock picking, but at the moment, he didn’t have the time or patience for something that required skilled technique. Putting all of his body weight behind his heel, Eric kicked to the side of the latch. It took him three attempts, but at last the door splintered.
His fists raised to protect his face, Eric stepped into an empty foyer. On the other side of the small area, an archway led to the room from which the noise was coming. Since the cacophony did not let up, perhaps Riley hadn’t heard him kicking in his door. Unlikely, but one could hope.
“Trollop! Hussy! Harlot!” Riley screamed as a clang echoed.
Eric dropped his bag on the ground and tore it open. He slid a coil of rope over his shoulder and retrieved his sharpest blade.
He crept to the archway and peered into the other room, where Juliet was tethered to a chair. Thank God, he’d made it in time, because despite smears of blood on her neck and shoulders, she was alive and sitting upright.
Riley whipped a massive tome at her. The book struck her cheek, and her head flew to the side.
Juliet was so damn brave that she didn’t cry out. Since items littered the floor around her, it seemed as though Riley had turned Juliet into an unmoving target and was throwing everything that he could lift at her. The sodding coward!
Riley turned his back to Juliet to root around in the drawer of a side table. Slipping into the room, Eric held a finger to his lips, signaling for her to remain quiet. She blinked as if she wasn’t sure if he was real.
Hopefully she hadn’t suffered a head injury.
Fueled by rage, Eric catapulted across the room with the force of a cannonball. He was almost upon the madman when Riley spun to face him and aimed a pistol at his chest. It seemed he had heard Eric’s noisy entrance.
Weapon be damned, it was too late for Eric to stop his forward momentum. He ploughed into Riley, knocking him onto his arse. The pistol fired, and the bullet whizzed toward the ceiling.
Eric placed the blunt side of his knife between his teeth so that he could wrestle with Riley. Now that he had his opponent prostrate, Eric needed to disarm him. He wrenched Riley’s middle and index fingers backward until bones cracked and the coward screamed.
“I will bloody kill you,” Riley snarled over his shoulder.
Improbable since Riley was face down, with broken fingers. Using his toe, Eric carefully pushed the gun away from them.
Eric may have won this battle, but the overwhelming anger coursing through him still needed to be sated. He grabbed Riley’s hair and bashed his face into the carpeting over and over again.
“Don’t you ever—” slam “—come near Juliet again.” Slam. “Or Abigail.” Slam. “Or any of the women at The Pink Petal.” Slam. “Or any woman, for that matter.” Slam. Slam. Slam.
Juliet’s cries broke through Eric’s delirium. “Eric, please stop. You are going to kill him.”
Hopefully… If all went well.
“Eric, you can’t go to prison! I love you.”
Juliet’s pleading snapped Eric back to sanity. He met her gaze.
Tears dripped from her eyes.
“I love you, Eric,” Juliet said again. “I knew you would save me. I hate him so much, but please don’t let him take you from me. He isn’t worth it.”
Juliet was correct. He would not destroy his life over a pile of rubbish like Riley. He let go of the hair in his fist. Riley’s face hit the ground with a satisfying thud.
The Lord of Depravity whimpered like a child.
With his knee between Riley’s shoulder blades, Eric tugged his prisoner’s wrists behind his back, then tied them together.
He used his blade to cut a piece of rope long enough to cinch Riley’s legs and ankles.
Satisfied that his prisoner was securely bound, Eric considered what he should do with the lout.
Throwing him in the Thames with rocks in his pockets held appeal, as did dipping him in whale oil and tossing a lit candle on him. Burning him alive in his secret chambers had the added benefit of destroying the repulsive paintings scattered about the room.
“Are you sure I can’t kill him?” Eric asked Juliet, even though he knew the answer.
“Well, bloody hell,” someone called from beneath the archway. “Looks like you didn’t need our help.” Fletcher and his goons strolled into the room.
“He is killing me,” Riley said between whimpers.
At least that is what Eric thought he said. It was difficult to tell since the second Riley made audible sounds, Eric smashed the reprobate’s face into the carpeting and jammed his knee into his shoulder blades as hard as he could.
Riley groaned.
“How did you find us?” Eric asked.
“I stopped by The Pink Petal to deliver news,” Fletcher said. “Of course, you weren’t there, and everyone seemed to be in a state. Athena finally told me what happened.” Fletcher glared at his men before sliding his gaze back to Eric. “Riley wasn’t supposed to come near you or The Pink Petal.”
“We explained all of that already, your kingship,” one of his goons said.
“’Twasn’t our fault. We waited outside his fancy townhouse.
How were we supposed to know he wasn’t there?
We told ye as soon as we realized he wasn’t at home.
Well, we got something to eat first, then we told ye. Ye don’t expect us to starve, do ye?”
Fletcher clenched his jaw.
“Thank you,” Juliet said sweetly. “All of you.”
Juliet’s graciousness seemed to diffuse the tension between the three newcomers.
Fletcher inclined his chin toward Juliet as he approached Eric. “See to Miss Coldpepper. I’ll take over with our prisoner.”
Eric leaped off Riley and ran to Juliet. Working both quickly and carefully, he cut through her bindings. Lifting her out of the chair, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head half a dozen times as she clung to him.
Fletcher’s tall companion picked a painting up off the floor and stared at it. “Naked people.”
Juliet shivered.
“Can I keep it, Guv?” he asked.
Fletcher rolled his eyes. “It’s evidence.”
Palm up, the man presented the room. “Ain’t ye got enough evidence?”
“Can I have one too?” The man with the curling mustache picked up a canvas and studied it. “Bollocking bollocks. This one makes me skin crawl.” He dropped it and kept searching.
“Neither of you are taking home a memento,” Fletcher said.
“Damnations, doesn’t he just have something of a pretty naked chit with big teets?” the mustached man said.
The tall man looked at his painting again. “Holy, hell. I think she’s dead. I changed me mind. I don’t want it.” He tossed the picture into the corner, then shook his head. “Aristocrats are odd buggers, the lot of them. Except you, Guv.”
Fletcher sucked on the inside of his cheek.
“We know. Ye aren’t an aristocrat,” the mustachioed man said, sarcasm oozing. He looked over his shoulder to mouth to Eric and Juliet, “Just half an aristocrat, this one.” He thumbed at Fletcher.
Huffing indignantly, Fletcher hoisted the battered lord onto his feet.
Eric regarded Riley’s face, taking satisfaction in the damage he’d inflicted.
“I will see every one of you hanged,” Riley said in a nasally voice.
Fletcher’s goons chortled as they pointed at Riley.
“Sounds like he got kicked in the bollocks,” one of them said.
“I think the big guy broke his nose,” the other declared. “Either that or he’s been castrated.”
“Deserves to be castrated,” Fletcher said.
“Go to hell,” Riley growled.
Since Riley’s new voice was rather humorous, Eric couldn’t help but chuckle, which unfortunately called attention to him.
Riley spat a loose tooth onto the carpeting. “I will tell the entire world that Knight Roamer is the son of a whore and lives in a brothel.”
Eric’s laughter died a quick death.