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She wasn’t simply an independent woman who had been jilted by a selfish lover.
Sylvia was an anarchist. Living under a false name. Who had beenarrested. And her ruination had been a part of public record.
“So you see,” Wardale continued. “I think you will do exactly as I ask of you, Davies. Otherwise, I’ll shoot you and frame your beloved Sylvia. And with her past, no one will question it. You’ll be given a nice long sentence this time, my dear. That is, if they don’t hang you first.” Then he turned to Rafe. “Unless, of course, you’ve no more use for her and we can dispose of her now. Tie up those loose ends?”
Rafe gaped at him, and at that moment Sylvia turned on her heel and raced toward the labyrinth, disappearing into the darkness.
Wardale let out an irritated huff. “Damn. I suppose I pushed her a little too hard there, didn’t I? Go after her, Brodie. No. Give me the gun first.” The man took off in pursuit. “He’ll find her in no time. Brodie has been walking that labyrinth since he was a boy here.” The little spring of hope that had opened in Rafe dried up, and his shoulders sagged. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of hurting her, as long as you both cooperate. That girl will supply me with plenty of valuable information on Arlington. I’ve been giving her little tasks ever since she arrived. A most enterprising creature, when given the right motivation.”
“There wasn’t ever anything in that envelope, was there?”
Wardale grinned. “Just blank paper. I wanted to see how motivated she was to keep her past quiet and how resourceful she could be.”
“You enjoy toying with people.”
“Oh yes. So many things lose their allure once you become as wealthy as I am. It gets harder and harder to find things that bring one pleasure.”
“What a conundrum.”
Wardale frowned. “I don’t care for sarcasm, Davies. If we’re going to work together, you’d better smarten up. You have too many weak spots for a spy. And don’t think I won’t exploit every single one. Beginning with that delightful mother of yours. Have I told you we met in Monte Carlo last winter?” Rafe swallowed hard. “See?” Wardale’s eyes practically glowed. “You’re telling me even more already.”
Just then a piercing scream tore through the air. Wardale looked toward the labyrinth, but Rafe never lost his focus. He lunged at Wardale and knocked the gun to the ground, then quickly punched him in the stomach. Wardale groaned and fell to his knees. Rafe came up behind him and locked his arms around the man’s neck.
“I may not have been brought up on the streets,” he said harshly against Wardale’s ear as he slowly cut off his oxygen supply. “But I also made my own way in the world. Made my own choices, same as you.” Wardale grabbed at his arms, trying in vain to pull out of his hold, but Rafe only pressed harder. “I’lldiebefore I let anyone say otherwise. And take you with me, if I have to.”
Wardale wilted against his chest, now out cold, and Rafe dropped him to the ground. He then raced toward the labyrinth. Branches whipped against his face as he frantically searched for the opening. At the sound of Sylvia’s soft cries, he tore down the path like a madman.
Just let her be safe. Please, God. That’s all I ask.
After the third turn he found her kneeling on the ground next to the motionless body of Brodie. The pocketknife protruded from his side, where she had stuck it between his ribs. Sylvia turned at his approach, and the terror in her eyes gutted him. No matter what she may believe, in this moment she needed comfort. Even from him. Rafe collapsed beside her and wrapped her in his arms. She let out panicked gasps against his shoulder, her entire body trembling. Rafe rocked her gently against him and stroked her hair.
“There, now. It’s all right. You’re safe.”
“Is…is he dead?”
Rafe glanced toward the body. It looked as though she had pierced an artery. The man would have died instantly. “I think so.”
“I took the knife out while I was running.” Her voice began to shake as her body trembled even harder. “And when he grabbed my arm, I—I—”
Rafe’s heart twisted as she broke into a sob. “You were defending yourself. You didn’t know what he would do to you.”
“I know, but—”
“No. I would have killed him myself if I saw him with his hands on you,” he admitted. “But it’s over. I’ll take care of everything now.”
Sylvia gripped him even tighter but didn’t respond. Rafe couldn’t say how much time passed while he stroked her back and whispered soothing words. It could have been minutes or hours. Eventually, her trembling subsided, and she pulled back. A fresh wave of anger broke over him at the sight of her stricken expression. She would be haunted by this. Possibly for the rest of her life.
“Come,” he said as he rose to his feet. “I’m afraid this night is far from over.”
Chapter Nineteen
The moment Brodie fell to the ground, a suffocating numbness came over Sylvia. She hadn’t wanted to harm him, but there was no trace of the kind gardener she’d met only days ago who so admired her. Instead, the man who relentlessly hounded Sylvia as she tore through the labyrinth’s twists and turns let out a string of foul curses the closer he came.
“There will be no more running when I’m done with ye,” he had growled just as he grabbed her arm. She had blindly thrust the knife toward him on impulse, and with all her might.
Jab at the soft parts, he had once told her. So that was what she did.
His sharp, surprised breath cut through the air, followed by a low gurgling noise impossible to forget. Then he fell to his knees and gazed up at Sylvia, his beautiful green eyes wide with surprise, before he crumpled heavily to the ground.
