Chapter Twenty-Six
“You again?” Thorne’s voice came in a growl, as he stepped forward, the blade of his sword gleaming in the moonlight. “You should really learn to back down.”
Isaac deflected the blow just in time, the sharp clash of steel ringing through the air. The force of the impact reverberated through his arm, but he didn’t falter. “You’ll find backing down isn’t in my nature.”
“So you seem so eager to prove.” The pirate’s eyes darkened, the tip of his sword flicking dangerously close to Isaac’s ribs. “Unfortunately for you, my patience has run out.”
He jabbed with a low, slicing cut aimed at Isaac’s legs.
His chest heaved as he darted back and adjusted his position, sweat beading on his brow as they circled.
Every muscle screamed for more speed, more precision, but Thorne’s movements were smooth and fluid—a seasoned predator waiting for his moment.
The pirate came at him with a series of quick, calculated slashes.
Isaac parried each one, blade ringing, arms burning.
They were evenly matched, each dodge, each block, a dangerous game of inches.
Isaac’s heart pounded as he found his rhythm, countering with a heavy thrust that made Thorne step back with narrowed eyes.
“Time to end this. I’ve more pressing business than you.” With a sudden, deceptive shift, the captain brought his sword down in a wide arc.
Isaac threw all his strength into the block.
The impact sent a shockwave of pain through his arms, his feet sliding in the dirt as he struggled to keep his balance.
Thorne took advantage of the opening, stepping in close and driving forward with a swift thrust toward his ribs.
Isaac deflected the blow at the last second, but the momentum left him exposed.
The captain’s sword danced around Isaac’s guard, and with a precise flick of the wrist, he disarmed him, sending his blade clattering to the ground.
Thorne leveled his blade at him, drawing his arm back to deliver a death blow. Isaac didn’t move. He had nothing left. Muscles trembling, lungs burning, he stared at the shining edge of the blade. So, this was it. He closed his eyes.
Steel rang against steel.
The strike never landed.
Christian lunged from the smoke with a roar, his blade driving Thorne’s sword wide. Sparks flew as the weapons clashed, and the pirate staggered back a step, eyes darkening with sudden fury.
Isaac jumped back as father and son faced off.
The captain’s lips curled into a snarl. “You think you can save Ross? You’re only delaying the inevitable.”
Christian’s grip tightened on his weapon, his jaw clenched. “No need to save him,” he growled. “I’m here for you.”
Thorne’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. “How touching,”
In one fluid motion, he brought his sword down in a vicious diagonal slash. Christian’s blade glinted as he shifted, feet moving in a blur. He surged forward, forcing his father to take a step back. Thorne recovered with terrifying speed, lunging back in.
Christian parried the brutal swing and spun away. In that heartbeat of space, his eyes found Isaac’s. “Go!” he shouted, voice sharp. “Get to Samantha and Josephine—now!”
Isaac ran. Boots pounding the ground, lungs burning, he rounded the house at a dead sprint. Please still be out back. Smoke billowed from broken windows, an eerie howling coming from the heart of the house as he rounded the first corner. No sign of them. He pushed harder.
He skidded around the next corner and nearly collapsed when the smoke parted in the breeze. Two figures stood just beyond the reach of the fire’s glow, silhouetted against the night. Samantha’s arm was outstretched as if holding Josephine back while they watched the flames consume the house.
They were alive.
“Oh, thank God.” He doubled over as the adrenaline of the fight began to seep from him, leaving his muscles shaky and weak. After a ragged breath, he started their way. A few steps in, Josephine broke away from Samantha and ran toward the house.
“What the…” He broke into a sprint. “Josephine!”
But it was too late. She’d disappeared through the door. He slid to a stop next to Samantha. “What the hell is she doing?”
She turned to him, her face pale in the moonlight. “She went back for her parrot.”
“Son-of-a-bitch.” They both flinched as a window blew out and new flames crackled into the air. “Where is the blasted bird?”
She shook her head. “I don’t… Wait, it’s in Abigail’s room, I heard it while we packed.” Her gaze locked with his. “Upstairs. Second room on the right.”
It was all he needed to hear. His feet pounded the ground as he raced inside.
Once in the door, he let out a curse. Thick, black smoke choked the hallway, curling in heavy coils that clung to his skin.
It swallowed the world around him, turning every shape into shadow.
A hellish orange glow punctuated the darkness, heat building with each step deeper into the house.
The plaster above groaned and popped, and an angry shower of sparks rained onto his face. He raised an arm and pushed forward.
“Josephine!” He shouted into the inferno, but the fire’s roar swallowed his words like dry tinder.
He reached blindly in front of him, as he desperately tried to remember the layout of Ross’s home.
He needed to get to the front, to the stairs.
Fire burned through his lungs and he tore a strip from the bottom of his shirt, tying it tightly around his mouth.
Barely better. But enough. A crash came from behind him, pushing a suffocating cloak of hot air around him. No turning back now.
Damn, how long was the hallway? His boots thudded over the scorched floorboards, heat searing through the soles.
He stumbled, slipping on something slick and sharp beneath his heel.
Glass. Jagged shards glittered faintly at his feet—the remains of the chandelier.
The stairs loomed ahead, steep and wavering like a mirage.
Each stair groaned under his weight, smoke swirling with every step.
The haze clawed at his eyes as he made it to the top, and he pressed them shut as he ran his hand along the wall.
One door. Two. He blindly entered, squinting his eyes. So much smoke.
“Josephine!” He bellowed into the darkness, her name tearing from the depths of his soul.
A cough came from the corner of the room. He stumbled over and found her huddled on the floor. Soot streaked her face and she clutched a cage in her arms. He bent, tearing another strip from his shirt. “Here.” He tied it over her mouth.
One slender hand grasped toward him. “I can’t see. My eyes.”
His own stung like a swarm of a thousand bees had overtaken him. He caught her hand and pulled her to her feet. “It’s alright. Hold onto me.”
They crossed the room and eased back into the hallway. Again, he followed the wall. At the top of the stairs, he drew to a stop. “Shit.”
Through the heavy black smoke, the bright flicker of flames licked up the staircase.
He swallowed and guided her down one step.
The next. Before he could take another, a terrible groan came from their side.
Out of the rolling smoke a shape crashed toward them.
A beam, enveloped in flames, smashed down, and the stairs gave way.
They fell backward as fresh waves of black smoke billowed around them.
“Back up,” he rasped, dragging her to her feet.
When they reached the top, a thunderous roar filled his ears as a terrible splintering cracked beneath their feet.
He flung his arm out, throwing themselves back as the floor gave way, opening into a yawning pit.
Josephine tumbled to the side, the cage rolling from sight toward the edge of the hellish abyss.
Fire shot up, belching heat and smoke in a violent surge.
She crawled, grasping around her. “Lola!”
Isaac grabbed her arm. “There’s no time—we need to get out.”
With surprising strength, she yanked her arm free. “I’m not leaving her.”
Damned bird was going to be the death of them both. “Stay here.”
He eased toward the splintered floorboards.
There. Just at the edge—the faint outline of the cage.
He took a half step toward it and the boards beneath him flexed with a conspicuous crackle.
Fire curled around the edges of the hole and he ground his teeth together—it wouldn’t hold much longer.
Another step. The entire floor shifted beneath him, tilting downward with a threatening creak. The cage began to roll.
“Damn it,” he hissed.
With a burst of motion, he lunged forward, hooking a finger through the wire as the floor buckled.
He threw himself toward the wall, clutching the cage to his chest as yet another crash split the air behind him.
Flames erupted where he’d stood only seconds before.
Behind him, a ragged cough cut through the roar of the fire.
Josephine sagged against the wainscoting. “I can’t breathe.”
His own vision swam as he darted across the hall, the fumes making every breath feel like a fight, and he braced his hand on the wall next to her. They had seconds left. “We need to get into a room. Find a window.”
She coughed again, weaker. “Abigail’s room has a tree next to the window. I climbed down it before.”
Good.
With one arm around her waist, he shuffled backward through the smoke-filled corridor, the cage scraping against the wall. They reached a door frame. Was this the right room, or had they already gone too far? It no longer mattered. He shoved through the doorway, heart hammering in his chest.
He stumbled, nearly going down on one knee, but gritted his teeth and caught himself. “Come on.”
But Josephine fell, her body going limp in his arms.