a little longer. Not only to catch my breath, but to move about slowly and feel for a passage leading away from these stairs. A doorway opening into a room on the ground floor would be the perfect escape…but all my reaching fingers encounter is rough stone, and then a dead end.
Rose squirms in my arms. It’s becoming warmer in these narrow passages, but it’s still icy on these black stairs. I can’t see my hand in front of my face, or the blank wall I’m supposedly staring at. I fumble my way back, hoping this is the opposite wall and not the same one. When I reach the small landing, I doubt myself and do another check.
Nothing.
What purpose does an empty passage serve? But before I can do another circuit to convince myself that I haven’t missed my escape, a sound comes to me.
The baron, yelling my name. His deep voice distorts as it echoes down the stairs.
The iciness of the passage seeps into my flesh as if I’m standing here buck naked.
Rose lets out an unhappy sound and squirms again.
“Ssh.” I wrap her a little tighter, clutch her to my bosom, and start down the stairs.
Behind me, Brandon’s voice echoes like that of a vengeful phantom.
“Pippa. Pippa!”
Brandon
I don’t know how long I was unconscious. It could have been a few minutes, or an hour. Pippa could already be out the manor, perhaps at the stables saddling a horse.
Why, oh God why did I accept the very first candidate the agency interviewed? I should have had them check her credentials — I’d waved off the requirement as if Miss Fucking Goodwin was a close cousin of mine — not a complete stranger.
I hired a woman who’s lost her senses.
Unless I’ve done something to bring this on.
What did I do?
But then the memories pour in, back, returning like they always do.
Pippa’s thighs gripping my hand. Her soft skin against my lips. How tight and wet and hot she was when I forced my way inside her. I’d been overcome with a beastly urge to fuck her, to claim her, to make her mine.
And why? In the hope that she would stay here forever, just like Alaine?
Forever mine.
Just like Rose.
But they’re all gone. Even my little Rose.
The beast inside me is foaming at the fucking mouth when I crash through that hidden doorway and holler the Devil’s name down those stairs.
14
Pippa
A muted rumbling on the cusp of hearing draws me from the stupor I fell into as I’d inched my way down the stairs. I hadn’t noticed before, but now there is a faint illuminance surrounding me. Orange and warm — it grows with every step I take. I hesitate when its source emerges from the gloom below.
Looks like the doorway to hell, Howard says through a chuckle. Guess the Devil’s finally here to claim your black soul. Took him long enough.
My footsteps falter. I slow to a halt. Every fiber of my being screams at me not to go further. To find a way out that means I won’t cross that threshold.
Until the baron bellows my name. This time, he’s so much closer than before.
I hug Rose tight and hurry down the last steps, brave now that my path is illuminated. I pass into the room beyond, dimly aware of the thick, leaden door standing open before it vanishes from my mind.
A massive stove with its belly of throbbing red coals dominates this underground hall. Coal and ash and heated metal scent the sweltering air.
Instantly, sweat glazes my arms. Heat strokes my cheeks as I move to the side, desperate to disappear into the room, but agonizing over the thought that one wrong move may set me alight.
Terror knots my throat. I look around, staring at the open doorway I darted through as I move to the side.
There must be another way out of this place. Somewhere I can hide. If the baron were to come down here, surely he’d assume I wouldn’t have enough courage to be in here?
Assuming makes an ass out of you and me.
Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Howard falls quiet, but in his place, another sound starts up.
A baby, moaning, just on the point of crying.
Howie would cry. He would cry all the damn time. From the moment he tore out of me, when they wrapped his blood-streaked body and handed him over to me…he’d been crying.
He never stopped.
Never? Howard lets out a rueful chuckle. That’s not how it goes, you fucking cunt.