Beautiful Torment *Book One of the Beautiful series*

10) Ready to Kill

Pale light roused her at the earliest arrival of dawn. Having slept fitfully for a good two hours before a deep slumber had overtaken her. A sleep so entire that it left her all but dead to the world.

She could not remember the last time a rest like that had occurred to her, but she was not happy, for it had deafened Victoria's arrival in the night. Through the open shared door, from her twin bed, she could see the outline of the girl's form under her thick comforter in the other room. Lucy sat up quickly and kicked off her quilt. Her bare feet hit the cold floor, and she took off at no less than a sprint to reach her friend.

On the floor near her bed, the silk dress from the night before lay as a discarded pile. The girl's back was turned to face the edge of the bed, her breathing the deep, even rhythm of sleep. Not wanting to wake her, Lucy moved carefully to pull the blankets up higher, but paused, staring down at the back of the girl's bare neck. Purple and blue blossomed at the base where her exposed skin met the loose neckline of her nightgown. As gently as she could manage, Lucy rolled the edge down, following the trail of bruises that only darkened and expanded the lower they went.

Bile rose to the back of Lucy's throat. She covered her mouth, gagging, and ran to empty her stomach into the empty chamber pot in the corner of the room. The duck from last night didn't taste nearly as pleasant coming back up.

Anger followed as a close second to her shock. A fury that seemed to set her veins on fire. She rushed to the door, making to jerk it open, but infuriatingly, it was locked again. She snarled softly like a caged animal. If it were not for the fact Victoria stayed sleeping, she would have roared. But she did not want the poor girl to have to leave the escape of her dream world for this disgusting reality. And, as cowardly as it sounded, she was not ready to face her friend. Not after the promises she made last night. The reassurance that she would be okay. The comforting words turned to ash in her memory, withered words that meant nothing in the light of day.

What she needed to do was find a way out of the rooms. A way to confront the Duke. Spinning, she caught sight of the breakfast platter that had been left on the table, replacing their dinner dishes. Next to the silver fork sat a gleaming knife meant to cut through the thick ham beside the eggs. But Lucy had a better purpose for it. Crossing the room, she snatched the handle of the blade and returned to the door. She was about to jam the sharp metal between the crack of the lock and door frame when she realized the potential it had to get Victoria in trouble. Instead, she raced back to her own room and tried it there.

Mercifully, after a moment of fumbling, she felt the lock give and wrenched the door open. Outside, the cold, gray hall was deserted. She gripped the blade handle, tucking it into the sleeve of her nightgown, before padding down the stairs. She knew where she was heading-straight to the Duke's room. If she killed the beast, cut the head off the snake, Victoria might be sent home.

Though it would bring her own doom, she recalled the words she had spoken to Alexander only the day before.

She had been born doomed.

A strange silence met her at every turn on her way to the Duke's chambers. Was it destiny or something else that cleared the way for her? Her mind raced. She could not blink the image of Victoria's bruised back from her memory. Perhaps it would have been better to stay with the girl. But what good would that do? Only righteous action would bring justice now.

Lucy neared the hall where the Duke's bedroom resided. A fleeting thought that he might not be inside crossed her mind, but she pushed it away. One way or another, she would have him. Just as he had promised to have her, only the manner of having would be vastly different.

She felt herself smirk through her rageful thoughts. Was it normal to take such delight in the idea of mortally wounding someone? At this point, she did not care. His two grand doors awaited her. She reached a steady hand towards the knob. Her other one tightened the grip on the knife. She was ready.