Page 52

“We’re going to die,” Lillias screamed, backing away from the flames toward the wall of windows.

“No, we are not ,” Grace snapped, her attention darting to the windows above her sister’s head. The space was narrow, but just wide enough for a body.

Grabbing a nearby chair, she spun around and, with all her might, flung the chair toward the window. The glass shattered with a satisfying crash, the opening immediately pulling some of the smoke out of the room.

“We’re going to have to try and escape out the window.

” Grace slid a second chair underneath the window she’d just broken and climbed up, peering out of the fractured frame.

To the left was a sheer drop, but to the right, about twelve to fifteen feet below them, was a balcony. All they had to do was make it there.

The flames lit one corner of the tapestry, the old cloth peeling back like paper, demonstrating the tapestries were not an option. And then she caught sight of the one set of curtains, floor-to-ceiling, probably ten feet from top to bottom.

Lillias cried out, pressing herself against the wall near Grace.

She needed something to do or her sister was going to continue to be an unhelpful distraction. “Lillias, help me get these curtains down.”

Lillias blinked over to Grace and then looked up at the curtains, her brow crinkling with confusion, but that was much better than terror.

“Why? What are you going to do?”

Grace gestured toward the window. “We’re going to jump out the window.”

Kane’s knee jabbed into Frederick’s ribs, loosening his hold on the man as they tumbled into the library. The sound of the secret door sealing shut behind them echoed with finality in Frederick’s chest.

“No,” he muttered, already moving toward the door, his heart hammering with the fear of Grace and Zahra being trapped on the other side, facing whatever danger Kane had in store.

Before he could make it, Kane shoved him hard, sending him crashing to the floor.

His shoulder struck stone, hurling a burst of pain through his body, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to let it slow him down.

With a twist, Frederick freed an arm and slammed his fist into Kane’s face. The satisfying crunch on impact sent Kane stumbling back, giving Frederick just enough space to scramble to his feet, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Grace!” he called, his voice hoarse as his fingers scraped around the edges of the stone, searching for any latch or lever that might release the door.

Lady Moira Blair presented every bit the malevolent mastermind of this entire scheme, her brother a willing pawn. He knew her kind. Had fancied himself in love with her kind once, before he knew any better.

Kane was back in an instant, crashing into Frederick’s side and sending him careening into a nearby bookshelf.

The structure groaned under their combined weight, threatening to topple and crush them both.

Frederick jabbed his elbow into Kane’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending the man stumbling back just as a crash of glass shattered from behind the sealed door.

Glass? A chill raced up Frederick’s spine. He had to get to her—had to get to them.

He darted for the wall, his hands skimming the stone, searching for a way to reopen the door. “Grace,” he grunted, slamming his fist against the unyielding stone in frustration.

The scrape of metal on metal cut through the air behind him. Frederick whipped around to find Kane grinning, holding one of the swords from the suit of armor. The blade gleamed, wickedly glinting in the afternoon light.

Fire ignited in Frederick’s chest. He didn’t have time for this. He had to get to Grace and Zahra.

Frederick twisted, narrowly avoiding the slash that would’ve split his chest open. His pulse thundered in his ears as he dodged again, jumping to the right. Another suit of armor loomed just ahead.

Perfect.

He dashed for it as Kane closed in, the glinting blade swinging wildly.

Frederick yanked free the sword just in time to meet Kane’s blade with his own. The force reverberated through his arm.

“I can’t let you and your little entourage live, Astley,” Kane growled, pushing all his weight into the strike, the edge of his blade grinding against Frederick’s. “Even without the inheritance, you know too much.”

Frederick gritted his teeth and shoved Kane back, planting his feet to block another brutal strike. The clang of their swords echoed like a warning. He parried another savage chop, deflecting the next lunge and sending Kane stumbling. The man quickly righted himself, his breaths coming hard.

They circled each other in a deadly dance, dodging the fallen books and broken furniture. Smoke was beginning to fill the air. Something was on fire?

“You’re wasting your time,” Kane growled, swinging with renewed force. “The women are as good as lost. And I’ll soon send you to join them.”

“You underestimate them.” God, help them. Frederick tightened his grip on his sword. “ And me.”

Before Kane could retort, a shrill scream echoed from the other side of the wall. Frederick’s blood ran cold, his stomach dropping to his knees. What was happening to them?

His head whipped toward the sound, and Kane took full advantage of the distraction, slamming his blade down with terrifying force.

Frederick twisted just in time to block the strike, but the impact jolted up his arm.

Kane’s next move caught Frederick off guard, slicing across his sleeve and grazing his skin.

He winced but tightened his grip on the hilt, meeting Kane’s furious gaze.

This had to end. His family needed him.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Frederick brought his sword down in a hard chop, knocking Kane off-balance. With that precious moment of advantage, Frederick lunged, driving the blade into Kane’s side.

Kane staggered, a strangled cry escaping his lips. But he wasn’t done yet—he lashed out wildly, his desperate strikes more about fury than skill.

Then, just as Frederick prepared for another strike, a door creaked open behind him. He braced himself to turn when Kane’s expression stilled him.

“Malcolm Kane?”

Ah, Frederick knew that voice and understood Kane’s look of shock perfectly.

Kane’s sword lowered slightly, his eyes wide in disbelief. “You–you’re supposed to be dead,” he stammered, the words coming out as little more than a breathless whisper.

Frederick kept his stance, waiting for Kane’s next move, as Tony stepped to Frederick’s side. “I have too much to live for.”

The distraction was exactly what Frederick needed. With a sharp twist of his wrist, he shifted his grip on the sword and swung the pommel up in a swift, decisive arc. The blow landed squarely on Kane’s temple, the sound of impact sharp and final.

Kane crumpled to the floor, the sword slipping from his grasp with a dull, metallic thud.

Frederick didn’t even glance at the unconscious man. His focus was already on Tony. “The women are in trouble,” he said, running toward the door. “We have to get to them.”