He passed several openings in the wall, the other tunnels that spread out under the estate grounds, he’dguess. But Nora had said the main shaft led to the crypt, and so he kept pushing forward, straight ahead.
After maybe a quarter of a mile, the faintest light began to glimmer up ahead. Sebastian slowed his steps but only slightly, moving as silently as he could through the tunnel. A few steps more, and he could just make out voices as well.
“—couldn’t let him share my secrets—”
“—disintegrate the curse on my blood and free me—”
“—not your magic, but your death will kill it, all the same—”
No.
“Wesley.” The whisper was torn out of Sebastian, fear surging through him and driving him forward even faster. Whatever they planned, he had to stop it—
Noise exploded up ahead, a man’s shrieks, a gunshot that shook the tunnel walls. Sebastian’s hand scrabbled along the dirt wall, mud raking up under his nails as he dropped his own gun and hit his knees, his heart stopping.
They hadn’t—
“I don’t know. But I know Sebastian’s magic. And it will never let you kill me.”
Sebastian’s breath left him in a rush at the relief of hearing Wesley’s voice. He snatched the revolver back up and shoved up from the wet ground like a sprinter off the mark. Wesley was alive, but he wasn’t alone, and someone had fired a gun. He could still hear a man’s bellows, growing louder as he ran down the tunnel toward the light.
* * *
Alfred stared for a moment at the dimmed medallion. Then he grabbed the gun from Louis, whirling around to aim it at Wesley. “Call the magic back.”
“Why don’t you help your brother,Dr. Wright?” Wesley snapped, yanking futilely again at the cuffs on his arms. “He’s losing quite a lot of blood.”
Louis now clutched a handkerchief to his wound, but it was already soaked a deep red. He stumbled a couple of steps backward and sat heavily on the sarcophagus opposite Wesley’s, his face a sallow and unhealthy green.
Alfred glanced over his shoulder at Louis. “Chin up, old boy,” he said to Louis. “Just a nick, isn’t it?”
“Are you fucking serious?” Wesley yanked at his cuffs again. “You brother isshot—”
“I didn’t come this close to removing my curse and having revenge on paranormals just to be deterred by a bit of blood.” Alfred jammed the gun under Wesley’s chin. “Call the magic back.”
“It’s not one of yourdogs,” Wesley said through clenched teeth. “I don’t know how to call it back even if I wished to.”
Alfred pressed harder, forcing Wesley’s chin up with the gun. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Who’s lying?” Wesley met Alfred’s eyes without flinching. “I can’t control Sebastian’s magic. And I don’t have a drop of my own magic in me. You’ll gain nothing from my death.”
“Notnothing,” Alfred said. “I can at least have the H6 back—”
“Let him go.”
Sebastian’s voice cut through the crypt, tight with controlled rage.
Wesley took a measured breath, carefully boxing his emotions to look at later, as his gaze went to the end of the crypt. And there was Sebastian, panting hard,sweaty hair sticking up wildly and mud on his flushed face as he stood beneath a crumbling arch.
“I don’t think I will,” Alfred said menacingly, his gun still digging into Wesley. “Hands up, Don Sebastian—or should I say,Señor de Leon?”
Sebastian grudgingly raised his hands as his eyes darted over Wesley like he was assessing for injuries. Then his gaze flicked to the other side of the room, where Louis had slid down on his sarcophagus, his eyes glassier. A furrow appeared between Sebastian’s eyebrows. “Lord Valemount is hurt.”
“Louis isn’t actually Lord Valemount,” Wesley said. “The prick with the gun aimed at my brain is Alfred Fairfield, and he’s the real Duke of Valemount. Takes a bit of explaining, but I promise they’re both arseholes.”
The furrow hadn’t left Sebastian’s forehead. “Louis might be going into shock. He needs help.”
“You hear that?” Wesley said to Alfred. “Sebastian was an army medic; I daresay he knows shock when he sees it.”
