Page 79 of Vicious Hearts

"Who's there?"

A female voice, but I know it's not Roxy.

"I have a gun in my hand," I say. "Don't move."

I round the corner and look into the room. A gap between the boards is wide enough to let in a little of the morning sun. I'm dazzled for a moment, but as my eyes adjust, I see it's a kitchen.

A woman is sitting at a battered wooden table, staring straight ahead. Her silver-blonde hair is in a bun, her face pale and waxy in the cold light. Her hands are on the tabletop, and a quick scan suggests she has no weapons. She isn't tied up or restrained.

She has no fingers on her left hand. Each of the five stumps has been tied off with a zip tie, the loose end neatly clipped. A sticky pool of blood spreads beneath her hand, dripping off the tabletop.

The shock abates, and I recognize her.

“Moira? Moira Coffey?”

She turns her head to me slowly and smiles.

"Oh, it's you," she says, her voice light and girlish. "Have you come for Roxy?"

My grip tightens on my gun. What the fuck is she doing here?

"Yes, I have. You don't look well, Moira." I take a step closer. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she says. "Have you brought anyone with you? Police?"

"No." I holster my gun and advance, getting closer. "They don't know what's happening, but they're looking for Oliver. There are cops at Always Home right now. I'm not leaving without Roxy, but you could have them here in two minutes if you run."

She sighs and looks at her mutilated hand. "Look what he's done already. He told me what would happen if I tried to run. I'm very sorry. I can't lose my son. You have no idea what I've done to keep him safe. Terrible things."

The kid, what's his name? Eddie.Oliver has Eddie?

"You can't trust him to keep his word, Moira. Just go get help. Do you know where Oliver is keeping Roxy and Eddie?"

"So-rree," Moira sings quietly. "I'm so so-rree."

"You don't have to be sorry, just—"

She leaps out of the chair and hurls herself at me, screaming like a banshee. I see a flash of brightness in her good hand and realize she has a knife. Where the fuck did she hide that?

She's not strong, but she's afraid. She fights like she's possessed, slashing wildly at me as I back away fast.

I grab the open kitchen door and slam it hard into her face, sending her flying, and she falls backward, smashing her head into the table as she goes down. She doesn't move again.

Sounds coming from below, heading my way. I think about movingtowardthe noises, but someone is coming to see what the commotion is, and I have no idea what to expect. I’ll have the advantage if I can find some space.

I move back into the hallway and find the balustrade, following it up the stairs.

29

The Dollmaker

Oh, would you look at that. Momma's head is leaking.

She's on her front, her head turned to the side. A patch of drool coming from her mouth, and a larger puddle of red from the back of her head spreading over Lois Farraday's shitty linoleum.

Never mind.At least she's not suffering anymore. The last year or so has been hell for her. I look at her lying there and feel something, but I think it's just contempt.

Some guardshewas. I thought the fact that my sainted half-brother is in a slaughter cage downstairs might be motivation enough. I threatened to kill the little cunt so many times, but this was the first time I ever actuallytookhim from her, and she went to pieces. Literally.

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