Nila
I CHASED HER.
He’s alive!
Vertigo tried to trip me as I jogged in the wake of her wheels. Disbelief and suspicion did their best to kill my intoxicating high.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
It’s a miracle.
I’d never had such words affect me. Never had a voice slammed into my heart, tore it out, restarted it, and dumped me into a hope so cruel, I didn’t want to breathe in case I unbalanced this perilous new world and found out Jethro wasn’t alive after all.
I wanted to cry. To scream. To laugh.
He’s alive!
I ran faster as Jasmine shot forward.
I’d never been friends with someone with a disability. I liked to think I was open-minded and treated everyone the same way—but society still had a stigma about equality.
Jasmine shattered every misconception I had.
I thought I’d have to dawdle beside her. Wrong—I had to jog to keep up.
I thought I’d have to open doors and offer assistance around tight corners. Nope—Jaz manoeuvred her chair, doorway, and lock faster than I ever could.
She was fierce and strong, and even though she sat below my eye level, her personality consumed mine.
I was in her shadow.
He’s alive.
But how?
She hadn’t given me answers. The moment she’d told me Jethro hadn’t died, I’d emptied the dresser, shoved it out of the way, and followed her with no other encouragement.
Was it a trap? A cruel joke?
Entirely possible, but I couldn’t ignore the chance of saving Jethro. I had to break this heartache before it broke me.
Finally listening to Jasmine gave me new comprehension.
I stopped listening with my ears and trusted with my heart.
I noticed things that’d been so obvious, but I’d been so blinded.
She adored her brothers. She was shattered with their pain.
Yet, instead of hating me...she was...she’s trying to save me.
Could that be possible?
Could everything that’d happened—the fighting for ownership and contract amendments all be for him?
Had he asked her to do that?
To protect me.
“You weren’t going to hurt me...were you?” I whispered, darting down yet another labyrinth of corridors. No lights lit our way, and the security cameras above didn’t blink. No red beacon hinted that our midnight run was recorded and ready to tattle.
I didn’t know how she turned them off. I didn’t know how she knew Jethro was alive. I didn’t know anything.
I’m blind.
“About bloody time,” she muttered, wheeling forward like a tank. “Thought you were supposed to be intelligent.”
Tapestries hung silent and repressive. Paintings of dead monarchs sniffed with disdain as we scurried silently like tiny mice. The awful feeling of being swept away with no control fisted around my heart. I wanted to ask so many questions, but something held me back.
He’s alive.
And I wanted him to stay that way.
“How was I supposed to know? You were so—”
“Believable?” She looked over her shoulder, her arms propelling her forward. “I’ve learned from the best.”
Awkward silence fell. We headed deeper into shadow.
Jasmine broke the brittle tension. “What made you doubt now?”
I paused. I’d asked myself that same question. The only conclusion I could come up with was: because I’m finally listening to the truth rather than what I hear.
I didn’t reply. Instead, I answered her question with another. “Everything that happened in the meeting...that wasn’t real?”
Her lips twisted into a mysterious smirk. “You already know the answer to that.”
“I don’t know anything anymore.”
She laughed under her breath. “That’s a testament to my planning skills.”
We ducked under another camera. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll catch us?”
She gave me a hard smile. “Nope.”
“But won’t Cut see the recordings?”
She smiled wider. “Nope.”
I didn’t bother asking again. She’d done something. And I guessed I’d never know.
My fitness level wasn’t useful as we ducked and weaved through the ancient Hall. Jasmine kept up a wicked pace, and every heartbeat crushed me with the same unbelievable message.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
Get to him faster.
Chasing Jasmine in her all-black attire and swiftness, my mind filled with other questions. Where did she spend her days? How did she get around? How had she kept this a secret? “How do you move from upstairs to the ground floor?”
Her eyes widened at my seemingly random question. “I have a private elevator in the centre of the house. It leads to a few floors.”
“There are more?”
She snorted. “Seriously? Haven’t you seen the size of this place? There’s probably hundreds of rooms you still haven’t seen.
Prisons and bedrooms and secret vaults full of treasures.
Could Jethro’s mum be hidden in one? Could there be countless hidden mysteries just waiting to bring the Hawks down?
A chill ran down my spine. “Tell me what’s happening. Where’s Jethro?”
She shook her head. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
“I’ve already proven that I do.” Removing the dresser and following Jasmine had shown two things: one, that I was willing to put my life in her hands, and two, that I was willing to do anything in order to save her brother.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
It’s not over.
“All you need to know is he’s holding on, and I need your help.”
“Anything. I’ll do whatever you need.”
Her eyes softened. “I was hoping you’d say that.” The mask of collected woman slipped, showing her terror over her brother’s life.
My heart tripped into a knot. “Kes. Is he alive, too?”
My spine locked, bracing for bad news. It seemed too much to have Jethro back from the dead, let alone another.
Jasmine sucked in a breath. “He is. For now.”
My hands fisted. I wanted to sprint faster. “What does that mean?”
She glared ahead, stress lining her mouth. “They were moved before Cut could dispose of them. We’ve done what we could, but it isn’t good enough.” She swallowed hard. “We’re running out of time.”
We...
Her and Flaw?
“Where did you put them?”
“The only place not monitored.”
“And where is that?”
She lowered her voice. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not coming with me.”
My stomach flipped. I had to see him. Had to hug him and kiss him and tell him I never stopped loving him. “You came for my help. I’m coming with you.”
Jasmine pursed her lips. “It has to be this way. It has to be tonight. And it has to be now. The longer you argue, the less time we have and the worse it will be for all of us. Got it?”
I wanted to argue—to slap her and let go of the helpless anger inside. Instead, I curbed my temper. “Fine.”
But the minute he’s safe and well, I’m claiming him. He’s mine, not yours.
Flying around a corner, Jaz whispered, “Now, hush. Answers will come later.”
* * * * *
This part of the house hinted at its age.
We were no longer in the manicured wealth of parlours, dayrooms, and libraries.
This part had an aura of forbidden.
An abandoned aura.
An aura of death and warning.
Portraits didn’t hang, showing pockmarked faded walls. The threadbare carpets misted with dust as our footsteps disturbed ancient dirt, and my cardigan and leggings weren’t enough to combat the icy chill emitting from the walls.
Hawksridge Hall lived and breathed as surely as its inhabitants, but down here...here was forgotten, only fit for cretins and rodents.
I blew on my fingers, gritting my teeth against a shiver.
“Here.” Jaz suddenly stopped. “This is the room.”
I skidded to a halt, staring at the imposing door with a brass locking plate engraved with weasels and stoats. “What is this place?”
“It used to be the servant’s quarters, but an old water pipe burst a century ago and destroyed everything. My grandfather never got around to fixing it. This wing has been ignored ever since.”
Sounded about right. The Hawks only seemed to value those worth something valuable to their needs and wants. The moment they outlived their purpose, they were either dispatched or cast aside.
A tiny shadow scurried past my line of sight. I inched closer to Jasmine’s chair. I wouldn’t be against leaping into her lap to get off the floor if rats came to visit. “And what are we doing here?”
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
Surely, she didn’t keep him here.
Her bronze gaze glowed in the gloom. “Using one life to save another.”
A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold shot down my back. “What does that mean?”
I’m asking that question a lot lately.
She looked away, fumbling in the black blanket over her legs. “You’ll see.” Pulling free an old-fashioned key, she inserted it into the lock.
With a loud groan of protest, the rusty mechanism sprang open, cracking open the large moisture-logged door.
A noise sounded inside—fleeting—like a small gasp of dismay.
“Come on.” Jasmine pushed her rims, coasting from corridor to room. The moment we were inside, she closed the door. “Get the light, will you? The switch is to your left.”
I spread my fingers out in the dark, tracing the chilly wall and finding an ancient nub, which I assumed was illumination.
I pressed it.
Light spilled from a single cobwebbed chandelier above. The room came into view. Out of every place I’d visited in Hawksridge Hall, this was the worst room by far. Faded, chipped mint-green paint covered the walls. Beige carpet stretched across floorboards, moth-eaten and musty.
And the cold.
I hugged myself from the bitter bite of winter.
An entirely different season lived in this place. No central heating, no fire to ward off frost and snow.
Had Jethro ever been here? Was this where he learned how to embrace the coldness, so he could hide his condition?
He’s alive...
“Who—who’s there?”
No! Oh, my God.
My stomach clenched; vertigo stole my vision in a blip of blackness.
I didn’t have to see to know.
I’d know that voice anywhere.