the padlock hit the snow, it hissed, steam rising around it and I stepped over it as I hurried to follow the others inside.
"This way," Saint murmured, leading us down a long, dark corridor which he'd told us was intended for use by the household staff.
Nash closed the door silently behind us and we were plunged into darkness so I had to squint to make out the shapes of my family around me.
After a couple of twists and turns, Saint pulled open another door and we headed after him down a set of brick steps. The scent of stone and dry wood filled my nostrils as we headed lower and lower and when we finally emerged in a huge wine cellar, Saint flicked on the lights.
I looked around at the oak barrels and racks of priceless wine and frowned. "I thought you said he'd be keeping my dad down here?" I demanded as my heart began to race. Because if he wasn't here then he could be anywhere in this fucking enormous place and I didn't like the idea of us making ourselves known before we could be certain he was safe.
"There's a room at the far end of the cellar," Saint said in a hushed tone, leading the way on as he pointed to the wooden door in question. "It's where he likes to sit and sample the wine when he selects a bottle."
"Fuck me, that might just be the most pretentious thing I've ever heard," Nash muttered and Tatum giggled.
"The point is, that room has a heavy door with a lock and can be heated, so I would hazard a guess that it's the most secure place to house a prisoner in the building. Not taking into account the extension my father had built, because I don't know the details of that." It was clear that fact pissed him off, but I wasn’t going to get into it with him over that again.
I tried not to let his words worry me, focusing instead on the fact that my dad was most likely behind that door right at this moment.
I broke into a run, unable to hold back a second longer as the need to see him consumed me. I'd already lost one parent, there was no way I was losing another. No fucking way.
I swallowed thickly as I ignored Saint's warning growl, forcing the rest of them to keep pace with me or get left behind.
I reached the door, quickly unlocking the bolt on the outside, grabbing hold of the handle and wrenching it open, too excited to find it unlocked to even question it being so damn easy.
The others were right on my heels as I burst into the small room and a relieved laugh burst from my lips as I found my dad sitting there on a foldout bed.
But instead of him leaping up and wrapping me in his arms, his eyes widened in alarm at the sight of me and he shook his head.
"You shouldn't have come!" Dad gasped, his eyes full of regret and fear.
"It's okay," I promised him as I ran around the wooden table in the centre of the room and wrapped my arms around him. "We're here to get you out. We won't let that crazy motherfucker do anything to hurt you-"
"No, Blake, you don't understand. He knew you'd come. He set you up. It's a-"
The sound of a shotgun being cocked made my blood ice over in my veins and I whirled around to look back at the door where the others were still clustered.
"The fucking clock," Saint hissed in realisation. "I should have known it wouldn't be that easy."
"Don't do anything stupid," a male voice came from somewhere outside the room and my hand flew to the pistol at my belt. "Come on out. Do it quietly so that we don't have to open fire. The Grand Master wants to see you."
I made a move to draw my weapon anyway and my dad's hand clamped down on my elbow to stop me.
"Don't," he snarled in warning. "You can't beat him, son. That man is the Devil incarnate. We can't fight him and his people."
I wholeheartedly disagreed with that, but as I looked to the door where we'd entered, I saw the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of Tatum's head as she was forced to raise her hands in surrender. Rage pulsed through my chest and the urge to declare war filling every part of my being.
Saint