He means to make her suffer in ways she has never suffered before.
The only hopeful thing about that is there might still be time to stop him, to save her from him and save her life.
Finally, I come to the edge of the woods and find myself gazing at an old stone farmhouse. There’s a small stable close to where I’m standing and then a field of weeds and vines between that and the house.
I hide behind a large maple tree and try to assess the situation. The stable makes the obvious choice. Gabrielle would have run in there. But then what? How would she get to the house without anyone seeing her coming?
What if she’s still in the stable?
At that thought, I head in through the open doors. It’s a small stable, covered in dust and smelling like rotting wood. I search each stall but find nothing until I notice a variation on the ground. In the area that was probably once a tack room, a crack is on the floor. I lean down to inspect it, brushing dirt aside until I realize it’s a wooden trapdoor, left askew.
There must be a tunnel between here and the house. That’s why she was so confident that she’d be able to do this. She knew the house; she’d be able to take them by surprise, even if she came here after they did.
Before I go down there, I do another quick search of the stable, hoping to find something else that might be a weapon, but there’s nothing.
My father’s cane will have to do.
I put my phone away and quickly unscrew the brass horse head off the top of the cane, then pull it away from the body.
A long, thin sword is unsheathed. It’s remarkably sharp and shiny. My father used to threaten Blaise and me with the cane, though he luckily never revealed what was inside—I found that out later by myself. I always wondered why he needed a cane, since he seemed so able-bodied, but of course, everything my father has is duplicitous.
This time I pray it works in my favor.
I crouch down, carefully open the trapdoor, and make my way downstairs into the darkness. I don’t know who or what’s down there, so I don’t use the flashlight on my phone in case it gives me away. Instead I step off the stairs, my feet hitting the dirt ground, and slowly go forward.
One hand grips the sword, the other hand is out, feeling along the slick dirt walls of the tunnel, heading into total darkness. The faint light from the open door behind me doesn’t reach very far, and I have to hope I’m not going to run into something.
Even though I figured out roughly how much distance there was between the stable and the house, it still seems to take forever. Time is running out with each step I take.
Eventually the air in the tunnel feels like it’s changing, and I see a faint light up ahead. As I approach, I see the outline of stairs leading up.
Here goes nothing.
I walk up two stairs until my head pokes out of the floor, and I try to look around. I’m in a closet, the door open to the rest of the house.
I immediately duck my head, not knowing if someone is there watching me or not. I tighten my grip on the sword, remembering when Blaise called me a fucking musketeer for pulling this on him in a showdown. I think he’d be proud of this musketeer right now.
Listening hard, I hear nothing but a faint scuffle and murmured voices, somewhere else in the house. I cautiously raise my head again and look.
The house is dim, but there’s no one in sight.
Then an anguished cry pierces my ears, and I can feel my soul being torn from my body, ripping me apart.
Gabrielle.
My Gabrielle.
I want to cry. I want to scream. There’s no time to quell the rage that I feel.
Instead I let it fuel me.
I’m going to kill my father. I’m going to kill Jones.
And I’m going to save her.
My grip on the handle of the sword is so tight, I think it might have fused into my skin. I don’t want to let it go until my job is done.
As quietly and stealthily as I can, I pull myself out of the floor and step into what must have been the kitchen. There’s still an old stove in the corner.