“Shit.” These bloody chains. Wesley yanked uselessly at them again. “Sebastian. Are you all right?”
“I’m all right.” Sebastian was stumbling across the stones, in a crawl on hands and knees. “Are you—”
“I’m copa-fucking-cetic,” Wesley snapped. “Never mind me. Is Louis alive?”
Sebastian was already at Louis’s side. He’d slid off the sarcophagus at some point during the fight, sprawled now on the crypt stones, his skin wet with sweat and his eyes glassy. “I have not forgiven you for shooting at Wesley,” Sebastian said, low and tight, “but I’m not going to let you die. Can you lie on your back? If we can elevate your legs and put more pressure on this wound—”
“You have more mercy for me than my own damn brother.” Louis’s voice was a harsh croak. “I’ll live. It’s Alfred you need to stop.”
One hand was still clutched against his bloody shoulder, but with the other he reached into the red hunting coat and pulled out a small key. “Here.” He held it weakly toward Sebastian with a trembling hand. “For Fine,” he said, as Sebastian took the key and scrambled up to his feet. “But you must go after Alfred. There’s no time.”
“Sebastian, wait,” Wesley said sharply, as Sebastian bent over him and reached for the handcuffed wrists in the small of his back. “It could be a trap—”
“No trap,” Louis said. “I have pretended to be the Duke of Valemount for two years, have done everything Alfred asked for in his revenge. Now he thinks he can throw me to the wolves to save himself, but he is mistaken.”
He addressed Sebastian again. “Alfred is a coward; if he believes himself outnumbered, he’ll head for hiscars and flee. But he won’t stop hunting for de Leon magic to kill for the cuff relic,” he added. “Whether that’s you or your family.”
Wesley heard Sebastian swallow.
Voices came again from overhead.
“Sebastian? Wesley?”
“We’re coming!”
“You want the third tunnel on your left: follow it straight to the garage,” Louis said to Sebastian. “And take my gun. The medallion will stay lit for your magic and give you light.”
There was a soft snick, and then Wesley’s arms were finally free. “Thank Christ,” he said, shaking his arms out. “Sebastian—”
“Here.” Sebastian pressed the handcuff key into Wesley’s hand. “It’s just your ankles now. I assume a dangerous rogue like yourself can handle it from here.”
“You did not just say that.” Wesley tried to sit up, but his ankles jerked at the chains. “Sebastian, wait for me—”
“You heard him.” Sebastian was scooping Louis’s revolver off the stones. “If he gets away, he might go after my family. There’s no time.”
“Sebastian,” Wesley said warningly, “you are exactly what Valemount needs to unlock that relic, don’t you dare go alone—”
But Sebastian had already disappeared, his footsteps echoing into the distance.
* * *
The medallion gave off just enough light to see by as Sebastian sprinted down the tunnel, his heart pounding, every inch of him buzzing like he’d drunk twenty coffees, or like a stampede of horses storming his veins.He didn’t have time to be grateful or welcome the wild horses back; he had to hope he could somehow catch and stop Alfred.
He kept his eye on the left wall, passing first one, then two, and then finally turning down the third tunnel on the left, as Louis had said. He pushed himself, gravel and stones clacking against each other under his feet as he ran under what he’d guess were the gardens and toward the kennels, stables, and garage.
Finally, the tunnel began to slant upward, until he finally emerged in the tight confines of a closet. He pushed at the wall in front of him and it opened, revealing a small shed full of shelves. He burst out of the shed and found himself just beyond the kennels.
A flurry of barks and howls started up. Sebastian didn’t stop for the dogs, heading straight for the garage. And then, up ahead, he heard the sound of a powerful engine starting up. He sprinted into the open door of the garage just in time to see Alfred climb into the running H6. “Get out of the car!”
And Sebastian’s magic leapt from him, sweeping out through the garage, ready to flatten everything in its path like the rushing tide.
Except Alfred only slammed the car door. “Give up,” he snapped. “It makes no difference if you’re a paranormal; my curse makes all magic useless against me.”
Because Sebastian finally had magic again, but he couldn’t stop Alfred from driving. He brought Louis’s revolver up, trying to keep it steady. “I don’t need magic to shoot.”
His voice came out with a waver. Alfred scoffed. “I’ll just as happily kill you like this,” he said, as he revved the engine.
Then he hit the gas, and the H6 came barreling straight out of the garage. Sebastian threw himself off the drive and into the grass, feeling the rush of wind as the H6 flew by.
