Page 23 of Girl Anonymous

Tension coated Dante’s tongue with the copper taste of blood, yet little Mary seemed unaware. She played hopscotch on the parquet floor. She turned her polished stone necklace to catch the light.

“In return for this tribute, I want you to guarantee my daughter’s safety.” Pola indicated Mary, who stood in the floor-to-ceiling mirror and admired her flowered dress and embroidered apron, her black patent leather shoes and white socks, the long blue ribbon threaded through the waves of her dark red hair. “Look at her. She’s a child. When she was a toddler, she climbed on the back of the toilet tank.”

“The toilet tank?” Benoit laughed.

“She fell. She hit her head. Since then, she hasn’t been right.”

Mary got the push-button puppet out of her pocket and made it dance in the mirror.

“You see her. She’s not smart. She didn’t speak until she was three,and she stutters. Your man—” Pola indicated Axel “—laughed at her. She can’t hurt you, Master. I beg you—”

Dante had seen this kind of desperation before; he held out no hope for the woman or the child.

Benoit interrupted Pola’s plea. “Where’s the stopper?” He leaned forward, watching her.

“I don’t know.”

“You bring me only half of what I desire. I want the stopper for the bottle. You know I must have it, for without that the bottle is worthless.”

“Then return the bottle.”

They engaged in a staring match, and to Dante’s surprise, Benoit looked away first.

Dante realized this woman must have no real hope, or she wouldn’t have come here, and most certainly she wouldn’t have engaged Benoit in a war she refused to lose.

Andere returned and in his capacity as butler, he assessed the situation and moved to take Pola away.

Before he could reach for her, Pola said, “Benoit, my grandmother told me the stopper broke many years ago. That’s whyla Bouteille de Flammeis sealed with wax. Master—”

“I don’t believe you.” Benoit spoke each word clearly, a double death sentence. “No matter whether your daughter is defective. She’s one of the Romani, the seed of the lice who crawl the earth, and as such, the sooner she dies, the happier I’ll be. The safer my son will be.”

“No.” Pola sank to her knees. “No!” She crawled until she was beside him, lifted her hands in supplication.

Andere hurried forward.

The guards lunged toward them.

With a gesture, Benoit stopped them all. Pulling his big pistol from the holster at his chest, he pointed it at the middle of Pola’s forehead.

Dante turned away; his father would say he was weak, for he couldn’t stand to see the woman and child killed.

Pola screamed, “Mary! Now! Run!”

The little girl snapped out of her preoccupation with the puppet in the mirror. She dropped it, stared at her mother.

Benoit’s pistol changed direction, pointed at Mary.

Of course. Benoit preferred to enjoy the greatest amount of suffering out of his executions, and having the mother witness her child’s death would accentuate the sweetness of the bloodshed.

“Your son will pay for your sins!” Pola screamed, and slammed herself into Benoit’s chest.

Mary put her hand in her pocket, pulled out her video game, fumbled with it, then turned and ran.

At that moment, Dante knew.

He sprang forward…as the explosion rocked the room.

CHAPTER 10

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