Page 32 of Empire of Shadows

“Savedme?” Ellie seethed. “You believe that breaking down the door, waving a knife around, and shoving me into a corner issavingme?”

“You screamed,” he countered.

“That is not an invitation,” Ellie snapped.

“Were you gonna deal with that on your own?” He crossed his arms over his obnoxiously well-formed chest. “Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t look like someone who’s had a lot of experience with snake wrangling.”

“Had I needed help, I would have acquired it. What I didnotneed was some mud-drenched lunatic barging into the washroom with a sword.”

“Sorry I wasn’t up to your standards of hygiene when I came to your rescue,” he shot back.

“This has nothing to do with hygiene!” Ellie exclaimed.

“Listen, Princess.” He took a step toward her. The move forced Ellie to crane her neck back a bit—the lunatic was decidedly on the taller side. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re not in jolly old England anymore. Most of the local animal life in the colony is harmless, but there’s plenty of stuff that’ll kill or maim you before you get a chance to think about it. Around here, if you hear somebody scream, you err on the side of caution—whether or not it’s in the damned bathroom.”

“Princess?” Ellie hissed.

He shrugged. “If the slipper fits…”

Ellie drove an admonishing finger into his sternum. It was like poking a piece of granite.

“I may not be capable of recognizing the different species of local fauna—yet—but I am not such a fool as to climb into the bath with one,” she retorted. “I was entirely capable of handling the situation on my own without being manhandled by some knife-wielding thug.”

“Knife,” he repeated.

His hand went instinctively to the empty sheath on his belt. He pushed past Ellie into the bathroom and plucked the huge blade from the muddy puddle where it lay beside the tub. He wiped it off on his soaked sleeve and slipped it back into place at his side.

“Are you quite finished now?” she demanded.

He cocked his head thoughtfully to the side as his eyes dropped to the top of her robe.

“What’s that around your neck?” he asked.

Ellie’s hand flew to her throat. She pulled up the wet folds of her dressing gown, clenching them over the place where the medallion still rested against her skin.

Fear lent an urgent burst of fuel to her fury. Ellie snatched the fallen towel rack from the ground.

“Out,” she ordered as she raised the weighty brass staff menacingly. “Now.”

“Are you really threatening to beat me with a towel rack?” the lunatic asked skeptically.

Ellie swung.

“Ow!” He jumped back, rubbing his arm. “All right, I’m going!” he promised, holding his arms up placatingly.

He took a quick step through the door. Ellie slammed it shut, then slumped her back against it. She slid down to the wet floor, clutching both the towel rack and the cold black stone under the soaked silk of her robe.

Her hand shook—but not from the encounter with the snail sucker. Her fear rose from just how close the stranger had come to seeing the secret she wore over her heart.

?

Eight

Ellie’s pulse didn’tsettle back to normal until she had dressed.

The room she had been assigned was spacious, with whitewashed walls and a comfortable bed covered with a worn quilt. A mosquito net hung over the canopy frame, ready to be drawn around in the night, as the windows were obviously meant to stay open for ventilation. There was no insulation, nor any fireplace or parlor stove—but then, such things wouldn’t be needed here on the shore of the Caribbean.

Ellie put another pin in her still-damp hair. She further calmed herself by running through the mental list she had built of everything she needed to acquire for her expedition: scissors, mason line, stakes, mosquito netting, hammock, canteen…

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