Verity covertly studied her friend’s too-brilliant eyes while she ate. As she listened to the unrelenting excitement in Caitlin’s voice, she wondered for the first time if Jonas might have been right when he implied that the woman was into drugs. Verity had never seen Caitlin like this. She was simmering with a barely restrained tension. Her movements were too quick at times and she radiated a strange, hungry sense of anticipation.
Verity sliced into a ripe, red tomato on her plate, watched the juice run, and thought of vampires preparing to feed.
“I have specifically told all the guests to arrive after seven this evening,” Caitlin was saying. “No one will be admitted without an authentic-looking costume. The six people who will bid on the painting are the only exception. They will be staying the night in the house and they have been given permission to arrive a bit earlier, if they wish. The bedrooms have all been prepared. One thing this ugly old house has is plenty of bedrooms. Sandquist must have had an active social life.”
“I’ll be glad to help Tavi with the buffet,” Verity said quickly. The silent woman gave her a sharp glance but said nothing.
“That’s very kind of you, but Tavi and the caterers can manage things,” Caitlin said, dismissing the matter. “By seven you will be in your costume, Verity, playing the part of a lady of the court. I wouldn’t want to see you spill mustard down the front of your gown. Did you have any trouble finding something suitable?”
Verity shook her head. “Jonas helped me choose a gown. Nothing like having an expert to call on.”
Caitlin looked at Jonas who, as usual, was not participating wholeheartedly in the conversation. “Yes, I imagine his advice would have been invaluable. For all their fine brocades and velvets and satins, though, the women of the Renaissance had very little freedom, did they, Jonas? They were still, by and large, victims. The best they could hope for was a marriage based on business or political ties, or perhaps a place in a convent. If they lacked the protection of a strong family, they were vulnerable to any man who wanted to use them. Not a good era for women, but then, what time period has been good for us? All women are potentially victims and all men are potentially dangerous to us. Some men are more superficially civilized about it than others, but sooner or later they find ways to use us, don’t they, Verity?”
The uncomfortable thought that Jones had sought her out with the sole purpose of using her to anchor his psychic talent flickered through Verity’s mind. Her head came up and she saw Jonas looking at her, his gold eyes blazing with anger. Neither of them was telepathic but Verity knew they didn’t need any psychic ability to communicate silently in that moment. Jonas knew what she was thinking and she was equally aware of his frustrated fury. She turned to Caitlin.
“I have a hunch that women use men just as much as men use women,” Verity said calmly.
“Ah, but there is a distinct difference in that women, even women who are good at using men, seldom resort to violence, do they?”
It was then that Verity decided she wanted an advance peek at Bloodlust. Something was happening here in this ugly house, something that was going to culminate in the sale of the painting tomorrow. She was suddenly consumed with curiosity about Caitlin’s last work.
She waited until after Tavi had cleared away the luncheon plates before saying politely, “I hope no one minds if I take a nap? I’d like to rest up for this evening.”
“By all means.” Caitlin nodded. “I think I will do the same. Jonas, will you be able to amuse yourself for a few hours?”
Jonas’s eyes were on Verity and again she knew what he was thinking even though she couldn’t read his mind. He was wondering how the hell she was going to nap in that terrible bed.
“I have a phone call to make. After that I think I’ll take another walk on the beach. I’ll see you both later,” he said.
In the end, it was easy to sneak upstairs to the white-on-white studio. Verity simply waited until Caitlin had retired to her own room, ascertained that Tavi was busy in the kitchen, and made sure Jonas was on the phone in his bedroom. Then she hurried up the steel staircase.
The door to the white room was unlocked. Verity slipped inside and shut it behind her. She stood for a moment, surveying the stacked canvases, easels, and odds and ends that comprised an artist’s working materials, and then she walked purposefully to the large shrouded canvas on the other side of the room.
At the last moment she hesitated, her hand on the sheet. She was uncomfortably aware that she had no right to do what she was about to do. But too many disturbing nuances were in the air, and Caitlin’s whole future seemed to be linked to whatever was on this canvas.
Verity’s mouth tightened as she made up her mind and yanked aside the white sheet.
A dark nightmare of intense, violent colors met her shocked gaze. The picture was a fiercely abstract version of the rape scene Verity had glimpsed that morning in Jonas’s psychic corridor. There was one horrifying difference. In Caitlin’s painting the rapist was still present. He stood over his victim, his body that of a demon, his eyes windows into hell. There was a rapier in his hand.
Verity shuddered and grasped the edge of the steel frame more tightly in order to steady herself. She recognized the woman on the bed now. The features were highly abstract and the hair was a different color, but the still-bleeding scar on the cheek was all too familiar. Verity knew it was a younger version of Caitlin Evanger.
The man with the grotesque body and the view into hell was Damon Marcus Kincaid.
“So you’ve discovered my little secret,” Caitlin said behind her. “Not a pretty picture, is it?” she added mockingly. “I like to think that good art is not pretty.”
Verity swung around to face her. Caitlin’s eyes were still too bright and her expression too intense but she didn’t look quite as hyper as she had earlier. Slowly Verity redraped the canvas, buying time in which to compose herself.
“No, Caitlin. It’s not a pretty picture. That’s you on that awful bed, isn’t it?”
“It’s me.”
“Oh, Caitlin.” Verity found no words. Sometimes there were no words. Impulsively she walked forward and put her arms around the taller woman, hugging her in the way women have always hugged each other when they sought to give consolation for great grief. “Caitlin, Caitlin, I’m so sorry.”
Caitlin stood unmoving and unresponsive. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Verity. I will have my revenge. And then it will all be over.”
Verity released her and stood back, searching Caitlin’s taut, ravaged face. “Revenge against Kincaid? He’s the man in that painting, isn’t he?”
Kineaid’s name startled Caitlin. “You know Damon Kincaid?” she gasped.
“He’s a collector of old weapons, among other things,” Verity explained slowly, not wanting to say too much about the pistols. “Jonas had business dealings with him a few days ago.”
Caitlin’s expression was frozen with shock. “Business dealings?”
“Jonas brokered a sale of some old guns he had authenticated. It was nothing, really. We weren’t in Kincaid’s office for more than a few minutes. Kincaid didn’t buy the guns and Jonas sold them to another collector.”
Caitlin closed her eyes. “The world of high-flying collectors such as Kincaid is a small one, I’ll grant you. But the odds of Kincaid coincidentally running into you and Quarrel must be staggeringly high. I can’t believe it.” Her eyes snapped open. “Quarrel knows Kincaid?”
Verity shook her head quickly. “Jonas doesn’t know Kincaid any better than I do. I told you, we were only in his office a few minutes while he looked at the pistols. It’s just a ghastly coincidence, Caitlin. As you said, the world of big-time collecting is a small one. When Jonas started fishing around for someone who would be interested in the pistols, who lived within a reasonable radius of Sequence Springs, and who could afford them, he came up with a very short list.
”
“I can’t believe it was a coincidence that Kincaid was on that list.” Caitlin leaned heavily on her cane as she moved slowly toward the window. “My God, is it going to come apart now after all my planning?”
Verity watched her. “Tell me what this is all about, Caitlin. I must know what is going on here. Surely you can see I have a right to know. Tavi tried to tell me this morning that I was involved. She said that if I left and took Jonas with me, everything would change. What did she mean by that?”
“Tavi hopes to protect me from carrying out my vengeance. But nothing can stop me now, Verity. Not even the fact that Kincaid may have become suspicious. His ego will keep him from behaving cautiously. The man thinks he is all-powerful. He will be certain he can take care of himself. Even if he wonders what is going on, he will still come here tonight and I will have him.”
“Tell me about him, Caitlin,” Verity said softly.
“You saw the painting.”
“He raped you? Cut you with that rapier? Here in this house? In that bedroom you’ve assigned to me?”
“He and Sandquist. They took turns. They tied me to that bed and they played terrible men’s games until I was unconscious. They hurt me, Verity. I thought they were going to kill me.”
Verity shivered. “My God, Caitlin.”
“When I woke up, I was in a motel room a few miles from here. They must have gotten nervous when I passed out and decided to get me out of the house in case I did something awkward like die on them. Or maybe they were just through with me and wanted to get me out of sight. After all, I was no longer very pretty after they had finished with me. All I know is that I woke up alone.” Caitlin turned her proud head to look at Verity. “From the moment I awoke until now, I have dreamed of revenge. I was cheated once when Sandquist got drunk and fell to his death. I will not be cheated again. Kincaid was the worst of the two. He was the one who got Sandquist high on drugs and then orchestrated the rape. It was he who used the rapier on me. I will have my vengeance tomorrow.”
Verity stood very still. “How, Caitlin?”
Caitlin’s smile was a terrible thing to see. “I know Kincaid very well in some ways. I know he will be consumed with the desire to own Bloodlust. He always gets what he wants. But this time he will not only be denied the object of his desire when I sell the painting to someone else, he will be forced to endure the shock of having it unveiled in front of the other bidders. They will recognize him instantly. No matter what he says or does after that, everyone in the elite world in which he moves will know he is the rapist in Caitlin Evanger’s last painting. It will taint him for the rest of his life. Especially when everyone realizes I was the victim.”
Verity sucked in her breath, a deep wariness overshadowing her compassion. “Where do I fit in to all this? What about Jonas?”
“In the beginning I did not care one way or another if Quarrel was around,” Caitlin said with a slight shrug. “I wanted you here with me because you are my friend. I need both you and Tavi with me when I pull the cover off that painting tomorrow. But perhaps it’s just as well Quarrel will be here along with the other bidders. Kincaid is, after all, potentially dangerous. He enjoys hurting people. He has a lust for it that is sexual, I think. In him, the lust for sex is closely related to the lust for violence. It must have been hard on him controlling himself all these years while he made a success of himself in the business world.”
“You expect Jonas to act as a bodyguard?” Verity asked incredulously.
“No, of course not,” Caitlin assured her. “I just think that there is some safety in numbers.”
“You think Kincaid will go nuts when he sees that painting?”
“I don’t know what he will do. I doubt he’ll lose his self-control, but you never can tell. I have already suffered at his hands once. I do not intend to do so again.” Caitlin shuddered. “I would kill myself before I let him touch me again.”
“Tell me something, Caitlin. After you have carried out your vengeance, do you intend to kill yourself?” Verity asked calmly.
Caitlin looked away toward the sea. “I don’t think about anything beyond what will happen tomorrow. But if it’s any concern to you, you might keep in mind that I did not kill myself after what happened here in this house all those years ago. I’m not likely to kill myself after taking revenge.”
“How old were you, Caitlin?”
“I was twenty-three. A very sheltered twenty-three, thanks to strict, aging parents. I was also a very beautiful twenty-three, very naïve, and very excited about dating a worldly man like Damon Kincaid. I had no conception of the kind of monster I was falling in love with. When he invited me to spend the weekend on the coast, I was thrilled. I thought he was going to ask me to marry him. I was a fool and I paid for it. But the price was far too high and now I will have some of it paid back.” Caitlin swung her cane fiercely, crashing it against the stainless steel window frame.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Caitlin? Kincaid sounds like a very dangerous man.”
“Everything is planned down to the last detail,” Caitlin said, regaining her control immediately.
“He’ll recognize you. As soon as he walks into this house, he’ll know who you are.”
“No. After the accident the surgeons were forced to make several small changes to my face in order to repair the damage that had been done. A lot of little things got altered, the shape of my eyes and nose, for instance. Those changes, combined with the aging effect of the intervening years and a change in hair color, are enough. I don’t resemble my old self very much. Even if I did, I doubt that Kincaid would recognize me. I was just another victim to him. The doctors wanted to get rid of the scar, too, but I refused. I made them leave it so that every time I looked in a mirror I thought about vengeance.”
“Caitlin, this is crazy.”
She turned around. “Now that you know the full truth, will you be leaving, Verity? Or will you stay here with me and lend me the shield of your friendship?”
Verity knew she had no option. “I’ll stay. But I must tell Jonas what’s going on. He has a right to know.”
“Do what you think is best.” Caitlin hesitated. “Thank you, Verity. I won’t forget this, I promise you.” Her eyes went to the painting and she stood looking at it as if mesmerized by her own creation.
Verity sighed. “I doubt if any of us will forget this.” Leaving Caitlin staring at Bloodlust, she turned around and walked out the door into the gray hall.
And nearly collided with Jonas.
He clamped a palm over her mouth before she could say anything and motioned swiftly for her to be silent. Verity frowned at him over the edge of his hand but nodded her head in understanding. He released her, caught her wrist, and led her quickly toward the staircase.
Neither of them said a word until they were in his room. Then Jonas let go of her, shoved his hands into his back pockets, and stalked grimly across the room.
“What the hell was that all about?” he snapped.
“How much did you hear?” Verity countered.
“Enough. She’s plotting some crazy revenge against Kincaid, isn’t she?”
“She’s the woman we saw on the bed, Jonas. She says Kincaid and Sandquist raped her. Sandquist is dead but she’s determined to make Kincaid pay. She’s going to do it by first denying him the painting he covets and then letting that same painting proclaim his guilt to the entire art world. Not bad, as vengeance goes. A little bizarre, but not bad.”
Jonas swung around, his golden eyes harsh and dangerous. “That goddamned bitch is using you. I knew it. I damned well knew it. I just didn’t know how until now.”
“She wants some friends around when the big moment arrives. Surely you can understand that, Jonas.”
“I’m not going to waste any time trying to understand that creepy female. I’ve got my hands full try
ing to understand you.”
“Is that right?” Verity was becoming annoyed. Jonas’s lack of charity toward Caitlin irked her. Couldn’t he see the poor woman needed friendship?
“Damned right.” He massaged the back of his neck. “What’s more, I just talked to Emerson and we’ve all got something else to try to understand.”
“You called Dad? I didn’t realize you were going to talk to him.”
“I wanted to see if he’d found out anything more about the man who attacked us. We do have a few other priorities in our lives besides crazy Caitlin.”
“Don’t call her that.”
“Why not? She is crazy.”
“There’s nothing crazy about wanting revenge, especially for something as brutal as rape. Oh, never mind. What did Dad have to say?”
Jonas’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. “The most important thing Emerson learned is that whoever that guy was who attacked us with the cannon, he wasn’t sent by Reginald C. Yarington.”
Verity’s eyes widened. “You mean he wasn’t a…a collection agent for Yarington?”
“No. Emerson checked and Yarington flatly denies it. Your father believes him.”
“Then he really was just a thief or a vagrant looking for a place to spend the night?”
“It’s possible. But things are getting a little too messy around here, Verity. I don’t like it. I got your father to persuade the Sequence Springs cops to run a quick check on Caitlin.”
“On Caitlin!”
“Yeah. They couldn’t turn up a damn thing on her prior to the moment when she hit the art scene in a big way. It’s as if she didn’t exist before that.”
“The accident changed everything for her,” Verity murmured. “She changed her own identity and the surgeons changed the way she looked. She was very afraid of Kincaid.”
“The kind of disappearing trick she pulled with her past takes planning and money and paperwork. It isn’t just a matter of changing your name and your face. It’s as if she didn’t exist at all before she became Caitlin Evanger, eccentric artist. There’s too much violence in the air, past and present, Verity. In addition to the lack of Caitlin’s past, I don’t like the fact that Kincaid showed up in our lives last week, right after we got involved with Evanger, who, we now discover, is planning to publicly humiliate him. At moments such as this, casual coincidences and flukish circumstances become highly suspect.”