Page 43 of Death and Desire

“Sounds delightful.” She leaned closer to smell it but drew back quickly, sneezing as the potent spice assailed her senses. It stung her eyes and made them water.

Dina laughed. “It is. In moderation. Shatta can be overpowering if you’re not used to it.” She nudged Violet toward the next stall, laden with brass and silver jewelry.

The bracelet on her wrist warmed. She covered the jewel with her hand at the vendor’s curious stare. The simple gem always garnered attention. Violet attempted to hide it, but it was useless. Perhaps she could forego wearing it, but as it was the last lingering tie to her mother, she couldn’t bring herself to lock it away.

They moved further into the bazaar, and Violet enjoyed every moment of it.

When they reached a large stand with varying fruits, David and Isaac joined them. Dina stood off to the side, explaining how to peel a pomegranate. Violet watched with delight and curiosity—savoring the sweet and tart burst of juice as she popped a handful of the seeds in her mouth. While she adored sampling the new fare and local delicacies, Isaac was not as adventurous when it came to food, aside from pastries. He would be perfectly content with apples plucked from the trees on their estate in England.

A soft brush of warm fur tickled her calf. Violet looked down to see a black cat weave around her legs. It briefly turned its golden eyes up to her before wandering off with a limp. She’d always had a soft spot for stray and orphaned animals. As a child, she would bring home bedraggled kittens and caught hell from her father when he found them tucked in a basket in her bedroom. It never deterred her kind heart and compassion for unfortunate creatures.

“Come back here, little one.” Violet followed the cat. “At least let me see if you’re injured.”

The cat trotted between two booths and down a narrow alley. Violet glanced over her shoulder. Dina stood between David and Isaac by the fruit stand. She shook her head and squeezed through the narrow opening.

A flash of black fur glinted in the sunlight ahead. She wandered deeper into the maze of buildings.

“Where are you taking me?” she muttered beneath her breath as the cat turned right and passed a block of quiet homes.

The cat paused at the mouth of another dark street. It sat on its haunches, staring at her with unblinking gold eyes. Violet stooped down to run her fingers over the cat’s head. Soft, like fine velvet. A tentativemewreached her ears, and with that, the cat departed, venturing down the dark alley as though the limp had never existed.

Violet stood, straightening her skirts. “Right. Now...how to get back to...” She twisted around in a circle, her sense of direction suddenly confused. “That way.” She pointed to the right. “Or was it there?”

Biting her lip, Violet frowned. She knew better than to venture off like this. She would never hear the end of it from her brother or her father. What an idiotic thing to do. There was no use in chastising herself now. With a deep breath, she took in her surroundings and attempted to find her bearings. She’d gotten out of worse scrapes than this before...and without her brother’s assistance.

“Are you lost, little one?” A deep voice echoed behind her, speaking in broken English.

Damn and blast.Her bag nearly dropped from her hands, but she gripped it tightly and turned to face the intruder. “Lost?” She scoffed. “Not at all.”

A tall burly man with shaggy dark hair stood in the middle of the street and grinned. The shadows behind him unfolded to reveal two more men wearing similar expressions of delight. Behind her, the street was empty. The windows and doors on the buildings around her all closed tight.

“Come now, precious. Just give us your valuables, and we’ll be on our way.”

Her hand flew to the locket at her throat. She would rather die than let these thieves take her jewelry...the only items she possessed to tie her mother to her.

Fear permeated the air. Gone was the sweet aroma of baked goods and spices, replaced by the dark stench of unwashed bodies and wicked intentions.

“Please. I don’t have anything of value,” she lied.

His gaze drifted to her bracelet before gliding down her length with a lecherous leer. “I beg to differ.”

“Come here,” one of the shorter men said, his words thick with an unfamiliar accent. “I promise, we won’t hurt you.”

Snorts escaped the other two men.

Panic gripped her. She hadn’t worn proper shoes for running, and even if she tried to escape, they would easily overpower her. The only thing she had was the derringer in her purse...with two bullets. Damn it all. A revolver would have been better.

There was nothing for it. It was the only way out.

“Don’t hurt me. Please.” She fumbled with the clasp of her bag. “Take my money, but please spare me.”

The men stilled, greed shining in their dark eyes. Twisted grins lingered on their lips as she fumbled through the bag. When her fingers brushed the derringer, she inhaled deeply and clasped it in her palm. Its familiar weight bolstered her courage.

She withdrew the gun, aiming the barrel directly at the largest man’s heart. “Take another step, and I’ll put a hole straight through you.”

The three men paused, their eyes wide with surprise. It quickly faded into laughter.

“What are you going to do with a paperweight?” The big man scoffed. “Put it away before you hurt yourself.”

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