Chapter 26
Amaya’s body was heavy with exhaustion, her throat was scratchy with dehydration, and she desperately needed the restroom. So when their noisy exit from the library was met with silence, they all took a moment to relieve themselves before retracing their steps back to the balcony.
Sebastian unfurled Whiplash and looped the segmented blade around the banister, securing it tight before gripping the hilt and using it to lower himself to the terrace. Amaya and Edmund watched from the balcony ledge as he scanned their surroundings.
“Coast is clear,” he whispered.
Edmund descended second, followed by Amaya. Sebastian was nice enough to catch her midway and lower her onto her feet.
He flicked Whiplash, detaching it from the balcony, and let the blade retract into the belt he wrapped around his waist, concealed under his Sorrento-approved waistcoat and jacket.
Amaya hardly believed they had really pulled this off, especially with the close call. She only hoped Will and Lockwood were enjoying similar success.
They were all excited to tell everyone about what they’d found, but Edmund in particular couldn’t wait to babble about Class Fours to anyone who would listen. He already couldn’t stop talking about it.
“Class Fours,” he breathed as they adjusted their clothes and made for the tree line. “We’ll go down in history. No one at the Institute is going to believe this . . .”
“Seems more plausible to me than the Skystone,” Amaya said.
“Sure, but that’s not the same thing—”
“Not so fast, Amaya.”
She froze at the voice, her feet at the edge of the terrace. It took her a second to place it, seeing how its owner was the last person she expected to see, but when she did, her muscles tightened.
They all turned in unison to find Victor Westbrook standing at the back door. He wore his blue Royal Fleet uniform, armed with both a gun and a sword, his arms crossed over his chest. His sharp, angular eyes flared with anger, sending a shiver through Amaya.
“Where, exactly, do you think you’re going?”
“Give me a minute,” Sebastian said, brandishing Whiplash. “I’ll deal with this asshole.”
“Wait, Victor!” Amaya extended her arms, but her protest was unnecessary.
Six more men stepped out of the shadows dressed in Royal Fleet uniforms, aiming their guns right at Sebastian. Even more men gathered on the balcony above, their firearms converging on Sebastian as well. Amaya counted twelve in total.
This couldn’t be happening. Not when they had the last piece of Pearce’s puzzle in their grasp. Sweat broke out across her brow, panic rippling through her.
“You know him?” Sebastian asked, his voice gravelly.
“Yes. Stand down,” she said, stepping between Victor and Sebastian. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“I’ll be the one giving the orders here,” Victor retorted. His eyes were hard as they flicked up to Sebastian and Edmund. “Who are these fine gentlemen?”
Amaya’s gaze shifted nervously, her hands clasping behind her back so Victor couldn’t see them shaking. “They’re helping me get home.”
“Then it won’t be a problem if I take it from here.” He looked the group over. “Take them for questioning. Miss Sinclair will come with me.”
“Victor, no,” Amaya said. “No one needs to be questioned. These are my friends; they’re helping me.”
“Amaya, if these men are holding you captive, you need only say so.”
“No, it’s not like that! They haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Then they have nothing to fear.”
Victor studied the two pirates with his inscrutable gaze. Amaya watched the gears turn in his temples, a pulsing vein visible in his forehead. He circled Sebastian, who stayed frozen lest Victor give an order to fire, and stopped right in front of him.
“Convincing disguises, I’ll admit,” he said. Amaya’s heart dropped when she saw Victor’s eyes narrow, dropping to Whiplash. It wasn’t the type of relic an everyday Sorrento man would have. “But I recognize a pirate when I see one. Arrest them.”
“No! No, they’re not pirates, they’re . . .” Amaya’s mind went blank, unable to think of a convincing alternative. They were what?
Victor’s men didn’t listen to her, of course, lunging at her companions.
“I don’t think so, bottom feeder.” Sebastian launched into action, swinging Whiplash.
The sword glowed purple as it dragged the two nearest fleetmen to him, forcing them to deflect his unpredictable blade with catlike reflexes.
Edmund drew his gun, but then so did Victor, and Amaya found herself in the middle of a shootout.
Not inclined to participate in the bloodshed, she ducked underneath the ensuing gunfire, covering her head.
Sebastian dug a second relic out of his pocket in the form of a lighter that he ignited, creating a large force field shield to protect him.
The bullets ricocheted off the shield, sending Victor’s men scattering.
Not all were successful, a handful falling to the ground in a cacophony of thuds.
One of them was Edmund.
“No!” Amaya shouted, drawing Sebastian’s attention to Edmund. The first mate’s face crumpled and he dove across the stone terrace to the artificer, shield flickering out.
Sebastian fell to his knees, patting Edmund’s cheeks to keep him awake. “Hey, Ed. Eyes open.”
“I’m fine,” Edmund gasped as blood rushed over the left side of his face. He brought his fingers to his ruined ear and winced when they came away red. “Shit.”
Sebastian wasted no time tearing off Edmund’s scarf and using it to staunch the bleeding.
The blood gushing from Edmund’s ear made Amaya’s head spin and her stomach twist with nausea.
“Victor, stop this,” she said, turning to him. “Please.”
“Will the three of you come quietly?”
“I . . .” Amaya glanced back at Sebastian. He was glaring at Victor, wearing an expression she didn’t recognize.
“We won’t. And neither will she.”
Victor worked his jaw. “Very well. Enjoy the Coil.”
Two fleetmen grabbed Edmund out from under Sebastian, twisting his wrists behind them and slapping on shackles. Edmund cried out, baring his teeth as the shift in gravity made blood pour from his injury that much faster. A third fleetman grabbed Amaya.
“Victor, stop it!” she exclaimed as the man joined her wrists behind her back, too. She struggled against him, but lacked the strength to break his vise-like grip.
It took three men ambushing Sebastian from behind to push him against the wall and wrestle Whiplash away, along with his lighter relic. A quick search of his pockets also revealed the tiny orb containing the Skystone. Amaya wanted to scream as the fleetman handed Sebastian’s relics to Victor.
“How many relics do you ship rats carry?” Victor muttered. He accepted the sphere and curiously flipped it open. “What’s this?”
“Don’t you dare touch that!” Edmund suddenly launched forward, startling the fleetman holding him.
Victor cast a sharp glance in his direction, took a decisive step back, raised his gun arm, and fired without a moment’s hesitation.
It was almost like reliving that night, but this time, Victor stood in place of Vesper Corsair.
Another bullet pierced Edmund’s shoulder and sent him tumbling back.
Sebastian roared, his strength considerable enough to warrant a fourth fleetman pinning him to the wall, but all any of them could do was watch as Edmund hit the ground a second time.
His chest still rose and fell, but his breaths came ragged and shallow.
Tears pricked at Amaya’s eyelids, suddenly seeing Camden lying there instead. She and Edmund might not see eye-to-eye, but she didn’t want him to die.
“Someone help him!” she said, struggling against her captor’s grip. “Someone . . .”
“The Coil has a medic,” Victor replied without a hint of remorse. “If everyone cooperates, we may yet save his life. Let her go, Felix. She won’t run.”
Amaya was tempted to do just that when the fleetman released his grip, but she resisted.
Victor holstered his gun and held out a gloved hand. “Come on, Amaya. I’ll drop you off at home.”
She shook her head, heart thundering. “I can’t go home, it’s—”
“I’m not asking.” The sharp tone was one she knew well. But going home wasn’t an option. She’d be trapped, with no way to save her friends. Amaya didn’t have a solution yet, but that wasn’t it.
“I can’t—”
“Then I’ll throw you in the damn prison, too!
” Victor shot back. “You and Camden Hargreeves have been missing for two weeks. Your father is sick with worry. Now you show up with relic-wielding pirates and break into your own house? If they’re not blackmailing you, Amaya, I’ve half a mind to declare you insane. What’ll it be?”
Amaya took a step back. They were surrounded, Victor’s men now holding all their relics .
. . except hers. Victor might think her some sort of deviant, but he didn’t seem to think she’d have any relics on her.
Or a gun. She became keenly aware of the holster strapped to her thigh and Eagle Eye on her ear.
But she couldn’t shoot Victor.
Could she?
He shot Edmund, she reminded herself. He’d done it without blinking an eye, and now the artificer was bleeding out behind her while fleetmen manhandled him toward the front of the house.
The only thing she felt sure of was that she needed to get to Will and tell him what happened.
If she could escape and hide long enough to call him, maybe they could rescue Sebastian and Edmund from the Coil before they disappeared forever.
Before Edmund died, and Amaya was forced to live with even more blood on her conscience.
She didn’t want to be the one to hurt Victor, but doing so would slow him down. He would never anticipate it, especially if she feigned submission first.
Looking down at her feet shamefully, she shuffled toward him. She sniffed, dialing it up a notch by dashing away an imaginary tear.