Page 114 of The Paid Companion
“Bastard,” Parker rasped. He looked at Arthur with eyes that glittered with fury, and moved a little closer to the workbench.
“He has another pistol,” Elenora shouted. “It’s on the table behind him.”
“I see it.” Arthur stepped forward and scooped up the unfired weapon.
“Fool.” Parker stared at him from the opposite side of the workbench. “You do not know who you are dealing with.”
Without warning, he flung himself toward the strange device and used both hands to turn the round knob on the top.
Arthur raised the pistol. “Do not move.”
“Beware,” Elenora warned. “He claims that the machine works.”
“I doubt it. Nevertheless—” Arthur motioned with his pistol. “Get away from the device, Parker.”
“Too late, St. Merryn.” Parker’s laughter echoed off the stone walls. “Too late. Now you will learn the truth of my genius.”
A strange crackling came from the device. Elenora saw electricity snap and arc in the air around it.
A thin beam of ruby red fire blazed forth from the long barrel. Parker swung the mouth of the weapon slowly toward Arthur.
Arthur dropped to the floor. The ray of red light sliced through the air where he had been standing a second ago. It struck the stone wall behind him, hissing and sparking wildly.
Sprawled on the floor, Arthur raised his pistol and fired. But he had no time to aim properly. The shot thudded into the workbench.
Parker was already swinging the nose of the device downward in the direction of his target. The hellish beam sliced toward Arthur, charring everything in its narrow path.
Elenora tried to move soundlessly up behind Parker. She must not alert him until she was close enough to strike, she told herself.
“Did you really think that you could defeat me?” Parker shouted at Arthur.
He used both hands to make the barrel of Jove’s Thunderbolt follow Arthur’s rolling body. The action of the heavy machine was slow, and it was clear that Parker had to exert considerable force to continually readjust the aim.
Just a few more feet, Elenora, thought. She tightened her grip on the iron bar she had taken from the workbench and raised it.
“You are a madman, not a genius,” Arthur yelled. “Just like your grandfather.”
“You will acknowledge my genius with your dying breath, St. Merryn,” Parker vowed.
Elenora took another step closer to Parker and swung the rod with all her strength, aiming for his head. But at the last instant, he sensed her presence.
He spun quickly to the side just as she brought the bar down in what should have been a deadly blow. The iron struck the heavy table and rebounded with such force that she lost her grip on it.
She had missed her target, but the distraction had obliged Parker to release his hold on the killing machine. Enraged, he shoved Elenora to one side.
She tumbled to the floor, bruising herself on the hard stones. Her eyes closed against the pain.
It was the sound of a rush of motion that made her raise her lashes. She opened her eyes just in time to see Arthur slam headlong into Parker.
The two men went down together, hitting the floor with a sickening thud. They crashed violently from side to side, Arthur on top one second, Parker the next.
Abandoned by its operator, Jove’s Thunderbolt was steady now, but the deadly ray continued to blaze from the mouth of the barrel.
The two men fought with a savagery that was unlike anything Elenora had ever witnessed. There was nothing she could do to intervene.
Without warning, Parker suddenly rolled free and surged to his feet. He scooped up the iron bar that Elenora had attempted to use against him and made to bring it down on Arthur’s head.
Elenora screamed a warning.
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