Hearts At Stake - By Alyxandra Harvey Page 0,51

suddenly rumbling. “Thanks.”

We chewed quietly while I tried to figure out what to say to the guy who had tried to kidnap me for money and then within the week saved me from a bunch of his armed brethren. I got that he was doing it for his precious Helios-Ra, to stop the rogue unit before it did serious damage to the league’s reputation, but still, I couldn’t help but feel as if he might care just a little bit about whether or not I lived through my birthday.

“Can you get us out of here?” he asked once we’d finished our mock chocolate bars. It had settled the hunger pangs but made me thirsty as well. My mouth felt chalky. “Or do we really have to wait until the sun sets?”

“It’s easier if we wait, but I think I can turn the alarm off.” I raised an eyebrow. “You’ll have to turn your back.”

He turned slowly. The view from the back was just as good as the view from the front. I could practically hear Lucy snickering in the back of my head. I might be the vampire daughter, but she was the one who was a bad influence. No question. I made sure Kieran wasn’t peeking and then cupped my hand over my fingertips as I punched in the code. The light went from flashing red to full red. It was bright enough to have me squinting, my eyes tearing.

“Shit.”

“‘Shit’? What do you mean, ‘shit’?”

“It’s okay,” I rushed to assure him. “I just used an old code. And, um, set the alarm on freak- out.”

He whirled. “Can you shut it off?”

“Of course.” I sounded confident for someone who really wasn’t. I raced to remember the codes. There was a rotation of a minimum of seven codes, which were changed randomly and continuously. I’d been taught them the way most children were taught their phone number. This should be easy.

The second code didn’t work either.

Or the third.

“We’re not going to get gassed out of here or something, are we?” Kieran asked nervously.

“Of course not.” I paused. “I don’t think.”

I punched the next code in but my fingers were slippery and slid off the last number. I tried again. The light held red, then went green and blinked off. My shoulders released some of their tension.

“See?” I said nonchalantly. “No problem.”

The gate unlocked with a resounding click and I pushed it open. Kieran was close at my back. The smell of damp intensified and then faded, tinged with sunlight and grass. The tunnel led us to a ladder. I paused on the lowest rung.

“Ready?”

“Maybe you should let me go first.”

“Forget it.” I climbed to the next rung. His hand closed around my ankle. I looked down at him. “Relax, Black. I can climb a ladder.”

“What happens when we get up there, Solange?”

“We run like hell until we’re home safe and sound? It’s a basic plan, but it works for me.”

“That rogue unit might still be up there.”

“Maybe. But we’re coming up pretty far away from where we vanished. And are you telling me they’d hang around for an entire day, just in case?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Well, we can’t stay here all night.”

After a moment, his hold on my ankle released. I could still feel the warm imprint of his palm on my skin as I continued to climb. The trapdoor wouldn’t open right away. Kieran had to wedge himself between me and the wall, and we both shoved until the door creaked open. A spear of sunlight landed between us. His eyes were the color of earth— the dark, rich kind you just know will grow the best flowers, the best vegetables. He was very close, close enough that I could see the faint stubble of a beard on his chin and the way his sideburns grew long, shaved to a straight line, the way the men in movies like Pride and Prejudice always seem to wear them. It gave him the air of a gentleman pirate. The weapons strapped to his chest didn’t hurt. He hauled himself up, never breaking eye contact, even as he snuck past me and managed to be the first one out of the tunnel after all.

“Clear,” he called down quietly.

He reached down to grip my upper arms and pulled me up and out, onto the forest floor. The sun filtered softly between the leaves, the shadows long and blue over the ferns and fallen pine needles. Birds sang, oblivious to our presence. There were no