Trapped in Time Read online

  And it certainly was dirty. Looking at it more closely, she saw other stains all down the front of it. Flipping over the skirt and peering more closely, she saw others on the back, too. Not only that, the garment reeked. There was a smell of stale sweat and other, ranker fluids that made Caroline wrinkle her nose and drop the fabric hastily. What the hell was this dirty thing and why would Harkens want her to wear it?

  She took a step back and her eyes were drawn involuntarily up to the wall beside the bed where the gruesome pictures and the wreath of hair were displayed. Her eyes caught on the second picture—the death portrait of Harken’s last wife. But it wasn’t the staring eyes or the gaping, toothless maw that drew her gaze—it was the gown the woman was wearing.

  It was difficult to be sure, since the picture was in black and white, but looking at the intricate lace, Caroline was almost certain that the gown the dead woman had on and the garment Harkens had laid out for her were one and the same.

  Oh my God, she died in this!

  Caroline stared with fresh horror at the stained peignoir on the bed. Did Harkens really expect her to put on the same gown his late wife had died in?

  She backed further away, feeling sick to her stomach. Out of here—she had to get out of here!

  Running to the bedroom door, she opened it as quietly as she could…only to find herself confronted with both the Tick-Tock maid and her male counterpart, the butler. Both of the mechanized servants stared at her with their glowing eyes, making Caroline’s heart jump up in her throat.

  Bracing herself, she took a step forward—but the metal butler seemed to anticipate her move because it, too, took a step—in Caroline’s direction. Its brass foot landed with a muffled clang on the expensive carpet and its eyes seemed to glow even brighter.

  It didn’t say anything but it didn’t need to—the message was clear. You’re not going anywhere.

  “I…um…I just…just need to go to the, uh, the necessary room,” Caroline told the Tick-Tock butler, her voice high and uncertain as she edged to the left, towards the door beside the bedroom. He let her do this without any movement on his part—maybe because she was moving to the side instead of towards the exit door.

  Hopefully there would be a window in the bathroom, she thought, and she could find a way to jump or climb down. At any rate, she had to get out of here one way or another and the horrible creepy Tick-Tock servants were blocking any other exit.

  Fumbling behind her back with a sweaty hand and never taking her eyes from the metal maid and butler, she found the silver-filigreed knob. With a sharp twist, she let herself into the small room which she assumed was the en suite bath and closed the door sharply behind her.

  But when she dared to turn around and survey her surroundings, she saw to her dismay that this was no bathroom and worse, there were no windows. The room was small—little bigger than a walk-in closet. It was almost completely bare…except for the far wall which was covered with pictures—a series of oval portraits all framed in dark wood.

  “What in the world?” Caroline whispered to herself, taking a step closer. The gaslight sconce on the wall threw a dim and wavering light that made it difficult to make out the subjects of the pictures.

  Caroline walked closer. When she was right in front of them, she saw, with dawning horror, exactly what—or rather who—was hanging framed upon the wall.

  Women—young women—at least a dozen or more. And all of them looked somewhat like Caroline herself with pale hair and full curves—at least in their “before” pictures, they did. Because, horribly, each one had been photographed twice—once while alive and once after death. And each death picture was surrounded by a wreathe of red-gold or blondish hair

  It didn’t appear that they had all died the same way, though, Caroline thought numbly. One had wet hair, slicked back from a pale forehead, as though she had been drowned. Another had a necklace of dark bruises around her slim throat. She saw one with a gaping slit below her chin—she had been sliced from ear to ear like a butchered hog. And there were others—so many others.

  And every single one of them was wearing the green lace gown.

  Suddenly the brownish stains around its neckline began to make sense.

  “All these women,” Caroline whispered to herself in a low, unsteady voice. “Are these all his wives?”

  Harkens’ words echoed in her head.

  “You will wear the gown as they all did,” he had said. “You will wear it for me, for a bride must be properly arrayed for her husband on their wedding night. On this night of all nights, when she must make the ultimate sacrifice for his pleasure.”

  “Oh my God,” she almost moaned, as the full impact of what was happening finally hit her. “Oh God, he’s a serial killer—he really is! And this is his trophy room! I have to get out of here—what am I going to do?”

  Nearly blind with terror, she opened the door again, intending to make a dash for it and try to get around the Tick-Tock butler and maid. But it wasn’t the metal servants staring at her when she opened the door—it was Lord Harkens himself.

  “So, I see you’ve found my naughty little secret.” He grinned at her jovially, as though he’d been caught hiding a present he had intended to give to her. “Quite shocking, isn’t it?” His eyes scanned down her body and his grin changed abruptly to a scowl. “Why are you not dressed? Why are you not wearing the gown?”

  “It…it…it’s dirty!” Caroline stuttered, not sure what else to say. “I couldn’t put it on—it’s dirty.”

  “Dirty, like all women are—whores and harlots, every last one of you,” he snapped. “You will wear it like all the rest of them did—that your inner nature can be reflected in your outer garb. Now, come!”

  Grabbing her by the wrist, he dragged her back out into the drawing room with its fancy, spindly furniture. The two Tick-Tock servants were still standing there, staring and soulless. Caroline realized they would probably watch without comment as Harkens killed her and then clean up her body with the same mechanical indifference they displayed now. She was nothing to them and would get no help, no matter how much she screamed. Still, she couldn’t help trying.

  “No!” she shrieked, twisting and struggling in Harkens’ bruising grip. “No, let me go—let me go!”

  But the Viscount only glared at her and tightened his grip. “I think not, my dear wife. You will come with me and put on the gown—then you will take the punishment that is coming to you.”

  “No, please!” Caroline begged.

  He grinned fiercely. “Oh, yes! You know, I took my time with my sweet Sylvia.” He nodded at the open bedroom door, where his latest’s wife’s pictures were visible. “Her poisoning took months and it was so satisfying to watch. But this time, I think I’m in the mood for something quick and messy.”

  Suddenly, his other hand appeared like magic from behind his back and she saw with horror that he was holding a long, silver blade.

  A filleting knife, she thought, feeling sick with terror. He’s going to cut me up with that thing—I’m going to die tonight—die horribly and without ever seeing my real world again! Without ever seeing Richard! Oh Richard—where are you?

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  There was no one at the door when Richard got to Thrashings. Not even the disturbing Tick-Tock butler or maid came to his knock.

  Richard frowned. He had been planning to confront Harkens directly and take Dr. Lambert from him—by force if necessary—with the blaster in his pocket. Then he would convey her to the wind-up carriage he had hired and take her directly back to the park where he could bundle her through the window and into her own world. But now it seemed his plans would have to be altered.

  “Wait here,” he called to the driver, who nodded stolidly. Luckily, along with the other accoutrement he’d been given, Olivia had thought to include some money. It seemed they had a machine aboard the other Kindred ship which was capable of reproducing most anything he needed from his own world—a very useful technol