Dark Warrior (28 page)
Authors: Rebecca York
Perhaps the anger gave him the will to keep fighting the bitch outside.
Putting his hands on the bed, he tried to move it. But he couldn’t muster the strength. “Help me get this thing out of the way.”
Sophia couldn’t know what he had in mind, but she did as he asked immediately, and together they shoved the bed far enough to the right to reveal a trapdoor in the floor.
When he tried to lift the rectangle of plywood, it slammed back into position, but Sophia yanked on the handle with him, revealing a ladder leading down into a dark space below.
Weaving across the floor, he picked up the pack and thrust it toward her. “There’s a flashlight inside. Go down.”
“They’ll find us.”
“No, there’s a tunnel. You go open the exit door. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“You’re coming?” she asked in a shaky voice.
“Yes. But I’ve got to make sure they can’t follow us.”
Reluctantly she began to climb down, and he wove across the room to the kitchen area.
Feeling like his head was going to explode like a pumpkin hit with a sledgehammer, he fumbled in a cabinet and pulled out a pack of old-fashioned kitchen matches along with the can of kerosene he used in the oil lamps.
With gritted teeth, he sloshed the fuel over the floor and onto the mattress, choking as the fumes rose toward him.
When he figured the cabin was sufficiently doused, he struck a match and tossed it into a pool of kerosene. It immediately flared up.
Knowing he had to get away, he staggered toward the trapdoor. But before he got there, a blast of psychic energy hit him and he doubled over, going down on his knees.
From below him, Sophia screamed.
What the hell was she still doing there? He’d told her to go down the tunnel and open the door. But she was right under the burning cabin, where the floor could fall on her head.
That thought sent panic shooting through him. He tried to push himself up and crawl toward the trapdoor, but he could barely move. Barely even see through the smoke that swirled around him.
“Get out of here,” he tried to shout, but the words were little more than a whisper.
Sophia’s head and shoulders appeared at floor level, and she gasped as she saw the flames and smoke.
“Get out of here,” he tried again.
Instead, she scrambled up and grasped his shoulders, coughing as she dragged him toward the trapdoor. He tried to push himself along, but he knew he wasn’t much help.
Flames rose all around them now, licking at the floor and the walls, coming closer. And smoke billowed from the surface of the mattress.
They were both choking as Sophia pulled him to the ladder; holding on to him, she began to climb down. Somewhere along the line, she lost her grip on his shirt, and he tumbled past her. He made a frantic grab for the rungs, but couldn’t hold on and ended up hitting the dirt floor with a jarring thud.
Although he didn’t lose consciousness, he felt time and space swirling around him.
Who was he?
Where was he?
Sophia scrambled down and knelt over him. “Jason, are you all right? Jason.”
He lay breathing hard, trying to pull himself together. His head still felt like it was going to explode, and above him the fire roared. He couldn’t stay here, but he needed to rest for a moment before he dragged himself up.
And go where?
He’d planned something, but he couldn’t remember what it was.
OUTSIDE,
the Ionians had kept their positions, until flames began to shoot up behind the windows and lick at the cabin walls.
the Ionians had kept their positions, until flames began to shoot up behind the windows and lick at the cabin walls.
Huddling in a group, they watched as fire enveloped the cabin. Window glass shattered, and they jumped back as smoke poured out.
Some of the women screamed. Cynthia struggled to hold herself together.
They’d picked up the mental vibrations Sophia and Jason were putting out, and they’d followed the fugitives here. Silently, while the two people inside the cabin were absorbed with each other, they’d gotten into position. Then they’d struck.
Cynthia had thought it was only a matter of time until the women could rush the cabin.
And now
this
.
this
.
The fire didn’t look like an accident. Why had Jason started it? Because he wouldn’t allow them to capture him? Or because he thought he could somehow get away?
She kept her eyes trained on the cabin, looking from the door to the window.
“Sophia,” she whispered. “Sophia, get out of there.”
Would Jason kill her? Was she already dead? She shuddered, angry with herself for not anticipating the desperation of a cornered Minot.
“They’re going to die in there,” Ophelia shouted. “We have to call the fire department.”
“We have to get them out,” Rhoda gasped.
“We can’t!” In dismay, Cynthia watched the flames consuming the little building, knowing nobody could live through that conflagration.
Or could they?
“JASON!”
Was that Sophia calling his name? He didn’t even know.
Was that Sophia calling his name? He didn’t even know.
He tried to open his eyes and look at her, but it was too much effort.
She leaned down. “Are you all right? Did you break anything when you fell?”
Again, it was too hard to answer. All he wanted to do was lie with his eyes closed while smoke drifted down from above. When Sophia shook his shoulder, he managed to mutter, “Leave me alone.”
Were they back at the spa? He remembered the fire there.
Above the roaring sound from above, he whispered, “Did everyone get out okay?”
Sophia’s hand tightened on his arm. “Jason, what are you talking about?”
He tried to focus on her words. “Is this the spa?” he asked, feeling his own confusion.
Sophia made a strangled sound. “No. This is your cabin. You set it on fire.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To get away.”
The answer didn’t make sense. But he remembered that Jamie Ferguson had hid out in a cabin, and he’d died there.
She grasped him by the shoulder, shaking him. “Jason, you’ve got to start thinking straight. Jason.”
Yeah, right.
He didn’t even know who he was. Not for sure. But he was dimly aware that flames were licking through the wood above him.
Far away, he could hear women screaming.
“Jason. Please.”
Then a burning brand fell, landing a couple of feet from his shoulder.
Sophia cried out, and his mind suddenly snapped back into gear.
The cabin. The kerosene. The fire. He couldn’t stay where he was because he was putting Sophia in danger.
It took an enormous effort to get up, but he staggered to his feet, swaying on unsteady legs. He braced one hand against the tunnel wall to stay erect.
“Thank the universe,” Sophia whispered.
She draped one arm around him and grasped the flashlight in the other. Together they staggered down the tunnel with her playing the flashlight beam ahead of them.
As he moved away from the fire, his mind cleared a little.
He remembered the pain in his head. It was gone.
“They must have stopped bombarding us.”
“Yes.”
They kept going until they came to the end of the tunnel. The way was barred by a wooden door. He lifted the lever and pushed against the barrier, but it wouldn’t open.
“Crap,” he muttered.
“What’s wrong?”
“Something . . . I don’t know.”
Behind them, smoke billowed down the passageway, and he knew they didn’t have much time. They were far enough from the fire to keep from getting burned, but the smoke was thickening, and it was going to overcome them soon.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
THIRTY
THE OTHER MAN had arrived. Tessa had heard Rafe tell him to wait a few minutes until he could open the gate. After that he went into his bedroom. Did he have some kind of special equipment in there? Was that where he controlled his defense system?
She waited until he left the room, then peeked out of her own doorway, watching his back as he strode down the hall and out of sight. A few minutes later he was back with his visitor.
After they went into the library, she waited again until the door closed. Then, taking another chance, she hurried into the bathroom next door where she’d hidden before.
When she heard furniture creaking, she figured the men had sat down. Was it safe to get closer to the door? And what would happen if the housekeeper or butler came along and found her?
She knew she was taking a big risk. Probably they’d run to Rafe and tell him they’d caught her eavesdropping. But he had made her think that she had to do it, for herself and for her sisters.
Still, her heart was pounding as she opened the bathroom door and looked into the hall. Just as she was about to step out, plump Mrs. Vincent bustled down the corridor. Tessa waited with her pulse pounding until the woman was out of sight. After another half minute, she tiptoed down the hall to the library.
“Can I get you a drink?” Rafe said, and she tensed, hoping he wasn’t going to call for someone to serve them.
“Bourbon on the rocks,” the visitor said.
Rafe’s footsteps came toward her, and she went rigid, but he was only crossing the room to close the door. Still, her hearing was excellent, and she followed his steps to the bar that she’d seen in the corner. Ice cubes clinked, followed by the sound of liquid being poured.
“Now that you’re here, I can tell you what I’m planning. The death of the Ionians,” Rafe said, and Tessa had to take her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from gasping.
Her head was spinning, and she steadied herself against the wall, stiffening her legs to keep from falling over.
Had she heard him right? No, that couldn’t be what he was planning.
More words came to her from the office.
“Is it necessary to destroy them?” the visitor asked. “I mean, you’ve got what you want, haven’t you?”
“I thought you wanted revenge.”
Sidestepping the question, the other man said, “For years, I was a man of peace.”
Rafe laughed. “No Minot is a man of peace.”
“Perhaps, but you can train yourself to behave in a more civilized manner.”
“I am what I am,” Rafe said with a finality that sent cold flowing through Tessa’s body all the way to her bones. He’d been tender with her. Now it sounded like he’d only been putting on an act to lull her into submission.
“I want her pregnant before I move on the others.”
She struggled not to react aloud. Pregnant with his child! Never in a million years. She had started to doubt him. He’d just given her proof of his true nature.
She needed to find out more, but she thought she had heard the important part. This man was planning to kill her sisters, and she had to warn them.
WITH
her heart in her throat, Sophia watched Jason trying to push the door open.
her heart in her throat, Sophia watched Jason trying to push the door open.
“Get down,” he rasped. “Where the smoke is thinner.”
She crouched beside him, coughed, then asked. “Can I help you?”
“I doubt it.”
With dogged determination, he rammed his shoulder against the door, but still it didn’t give. Then he tried pulling inward.
“There’s a little movement,” he muttered.
He kept pulling and pushing, trying to make the damn thing open one way or the other. Finally with a heaving sound, the boards splintered and he crashed partway through.
Fresh air rushed in, and Sophia took a grateful gasp.
Jason peered out. Over his shoulder, Sophia stared at the outside world. The tunnel exit was in a wooded area, and she could see that a tree had fallen across the doorway.
He began tearing at the boards, throwing them into the tunnel behind them. Although Sophia wanted to help, there wasn’t room for two people to work there.
But she could see the demolition was having an effect. Soon there was an opening in the middle of the door that was probably big enough for her to crawl out.
“You first,” he told her. “But make sure the coast is clear.”
Sophia stuck her head out and looked around.
“Are we alone?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I don’t think they’ll find us. We’re pretty far from the cabin, and there are trees and big rocks in the way.”
She eased her shoulder through the gap, then pushed upward, wiggling through the opening and half falling out onto the ground. For long moments she lay dragging in lungfuls of the untainted air.
Other books
SG1-17 Sunrise by Crane, J. F.
Dark Wrath by Anwar, Celeste
Chandler: Books 4 The Witch and the Vampire by Fawn Lowery
Coming Home by M.A. Stacie
Relatively Risky by Pauline Baird Jones
Change of Plans by C.L. Blackwell
Whisper by Chris Struyk-Bonn
The Bloodletter's Daughter by Linda Lafferty
Wooden Ships by Donald Piazza
Lost Without Them by Trista Ann Michaels
