somehow avoiding the rocks and dips in the ground. She emerged through the edge of the forest with a sob of victory, stumbling, but remaining upright.
She saw movement ahead, the outline of a man as he began to step toward the house, toward the tripwire he didn’t know was almost directly under his feet.
“Reed!” she screamed. “Stop!”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Arryn’s muscles tensed as the man named Axel climbed the short flight of steps and stepped back into the chamber where they were. Alone. He’s alone. She pulled in a tremulous breath as he walked to where she lay on the ground, still handcuffed to the chair. She’d watched Charles Hartsman give something to Liza with his feet, watched—incredulously—as she’d used the small tool to free herself, Arryn’s heart beating out of her chest with terror. Liza had done it. Somehow, she’d done it, and when she’d run for the stairs that led down into some lower part of whatever hell they were in and Axel had taken chase, Arryn had used her toes for leverage and thrown her body in front of him, colliding with the large man, both of them slamming to the ground.
He’d been up and after Liza in ten seconds, but Arryn had bought her that much. At least that. And here he was, no Liza in sight, which meant it’d worked? She’d escaped? Or had Axel hurt her? Please, please don’t let that be it.
She’d watched, terrified and dumbstruck, as Charles maneuvered his bleeding body in an obvious attempt at escape in the few minutes Axel was gone. And though he’d managed to raise his feet to his mouth, grasping something in his teeth, he hadn’t achieved freedom. He now simply hung from his chains, his chest slick with sweat, a few beads rolling down the side of his face.
Was that why he’d passed a tool to Liza first? Because she required less time to use it, and Charles needed a distraction to free himself from the position he was in?
Axel lifted Arryn easily, setting her chair upright. Blood rushed to her head, making her dizzy. She watched him as he stood straight, muttering something unintelligible. He turned around, his gaze going to each of them in turn. “Stupid,” he said. “So stupid. But what’s done is done.”
“Where is she?” Arryn asked, afraid to hear the answer.
He turned back to her, his eyes narrowing. “She’s okay. She climbed into the old sewer. I had to lock it. She left me no choice.”
Locked? In an old sewer? Arryn swallowed hard. Oh God, poor Liza.
“Don’t worry,” he said, as though to himself, his eyes focused on the wall now. “She’ll be set free as soon as we complete this.” He muttered something Arryn couldn’t make out. He was crazy. This guy was stark raving mad and he meant to burn them all to death in this cavern in the ground, and she had no idea why. She wanted to cry, to scream, but she wouldn’t; she wouldn’t do that. She’d be strong. She was her mother’s daughter.
The thing was . . . she recognized him—Axel. She’d seen him somewhere, and in that moment, she realized where. She’d bumped into him on her way to class as she’d been rushing from the parking lot, through campus. She’d dropped her books, all the papers in her hands flying out around her as they’d collided, and though she was late, she’d laughed and told him it was okay, trying to make the big, bear-like man with the wide, stricken eyes feel better about the situation.
“This can’t work without Liza, you know,” Charles Hartsman said. Arryn’s gaze went to him, the man who looked like an older version of her brother. She felt so confused, so scared, her brain still muddy from whatever drug Axel had pumped into her. She was terrified of the man, had always been terrified of him, but . . . he’d helped Liza get free. Why? She didn’t understand it. This whole situation felt unreal, like a horrific nightmare she couldn’t wake from.
“She won’t move,” Axel answered. “There’s no need to worry. She’ll stay right there. Yes, she’ll be afraid, but we’re all afraid.” He looked at the people named Milo and Sabrina, a gentle expression taking over his face. “She’ll cower there until Heaven opens. She’s still here with us. In the underground lair. She hasn’t really left.”
“Maybe she’s not what you think,” Charles said. “Maybe she’s more.” He lifted his head slightly.