The darkened woods spread out around him, but from this higher vantage point, he could see the dim faraway glow of the spotlights they must be using, moving slowly forward.
He stared up at a particularly bright star and took a moment to make a silent wish for Camden and Scarlett and those two young girls, out there being hunted like animals right that very moment.
He saw movement below and moved quickly, stepping to the side of the window just enough that his body was hidden, but he could still see below. A man walked by, he couldn’t tell who it was from this angle, but he saw the rifle in his hands.
He had to do something. He had to intercept Georgia if she was on her way. Mason turned, exiting the room and walking quietly down the hall until he got to the railing overlooking the foyer, gas lanterns burning brightly. He leaned forward. Empty. He let out a long, silent breath. How long would it take him to make it through the backwoods to the main road? Thirty minutes? Mason began to turn toward the back stairs when movement to his left caused him to whirl around.
Clarence Dreschel, the head of the guild, and the man who’d been Georgia’s guardian, stood in the doorway of a bedroom across the open space, his cane in one hand, a gun held in the other. A delighted smile stretched across his angular face. “Hello there.”
Mason stared, his hand itching to move toward his waistband where he’d stuck the gun.
“We hoped you’d come out,” Clarence said, taking several steps forward, his cane tapping on the hardwood floor. “I’ve been waiting. Quiet as a mouse.” His lips stretched into the semblance of a smile. “The dogs will be tired when they return. It would be thoughtless to make them go from floor to floor searching this monstrosity of a house.” He tilted his head slightly, eyes moving across the walls. “We should have burned this place down years ago. It fostered so much evil, so much sin.”
Rage blossomed in Mason’s chest, because he knew the sin this man was referring to was not his own. The evil Dreschel recognized belonged to everyone but himself. The things he had done to Georgia . . . Mason should have exacted his own revenge on this man years ago instead of waiting for some plan between the three of them to come to fruition. He’d always talked himself out of it, saying Georgia deserved the satisfaction of the retribution they exacted. And that he’d be no good to anyone—least of all Georgie—dead or in prison. How do you kill men who think they’re gods? Who rule a kingdom of evil?
Mason’s gaze moved from one direction to the next, weighing his options for escape. Clarence Dreschel was a good shot. He’d been an avid hunter, just like many of the guild members, before the accident that had hurt his leg. Perhaps his skills were rusty though. Would Mason have time to drop, retrieve his weapon, and get a shot in before the old guy did?
“Let him go.” Mason’s head swiveled to the right where Georgia had just stepped around a hallway wall. Georgia. No.
Clarence turned too, whipping the gun in her direction. He let out a huff of breath, shaking his head. “Georgia. You should have stayed hidden. Goddammit, girlie. I might have helped you.”
Georgia laughed and Mason heard the edge of hysteria laced within. His hand moved slowly toward his weapon. “You might have helped me? Is that right? Well fuck your help, old man. I’d rather get shot in the face than accept anything from you,” she hissed. “I’d rather die than let you lay a finger on me ever again.”
His lips stretched. “They were right. You’re an abomination. You all are.”
Even from where Mason stood, he could see the angry red spots that rose in the man’s face. Without wavering, he turned the gun on Mason. Everything slowed. Mason saw Georgia’s mouth open in a scream as she dove toward him. He saw the old man squeeze the trigger. He felt the impact of her body as both he and Georgia went flying backward, hitting the floor, the jolt stealing his breath and resuming time in a loud, painful rush of air and screaming nerve endings.
Mason yelled, struggling to make sense of what had happened, pulling himself out from under Georgia who lay on top of him. Blood. So much