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My hair trails behind me, getting carried in the breeze. Somehow, I avoid tumbling over twisted tree roots poking out from the uneven ground. A crumbling wall looms ahead. It’s not the same wall we climbed over on our way in, but I don’t have time to find another exit. I run and leap, clambering up the side of it. My arms burn from exertion as they cling to the brick edge, and it takes all my strength to heave up the rest of my body.
I hesitate at the top. On the other side of the wall, a group of young boys are in the middle of a football game and are using itas a makeshift goal. I drop to the ground. Their ball bounces off my shin as I save one of their shots.
“Hey!” the bravest one shouts in annoyance. “You ruined my winning streak!”
“Now you’ve got a better story to tell,” I reply, loving how he’s more concerned about their game than a blood-covered woman falling off a wall. “You can tell everyone you’ve seen a ghost.”
They give me a strange look as I run down the street. Adrenaline keeps me moving. I half-expect Stephanie or Alaric to jump out and pull me into the back of a van. If they’re not watching now, Penelope will find me on CCTV later. I can’t escape them. No matter how hard I try. But I can’t give up while he’s still alive.
I have to kill Spencer.
At my side, car wheels screech to a dramatic halt.
I brace myself.
This must be it.
The Killers Club have found me.
I take a deep inhale, preparing for the fight of my life, when the car door flies open to reveal Bram sitting behind the wheel. My jaw drops.
“What are you doing here?” I ask in disbelief. “How did you—”
Bram nudges his head at the laptop on the seat next to him. Although I can’t see what’s on it, I hear Freddie and Callen freaking out through the speakers. Has he been listening the entire time? Bram slams the lid shut to silence them to confirm he has.
“I’m not getting in,” I say. “The Dukes… Freddie… he betrayed me… he was…”
How do I know this isn’t part of their plan? The last time the Dukes saved me, I ended up chained in a damp basement, trying to fend off Callen’s psycho twin.
I whisper, “Did you know?”
His jaw tenses, and he shakes his head fiercely. His fists clutching the wheel turn a stark white, and he pats the seat next to him.
“I don’t want you to save me again, Bram,” I say. “If I get in this car, you can’t go back for Freddie and Callen. You need to take me to Spencer. Can you do that?”
CHAPTER 47
SEB
The harpist’s expert plucking lulls me into a sleepy haze. While my family works the room, I stand alone, counting down the minutes until I can leave. Beatrice’s distant cousin is hosting the wake at their London home, and around fifty people have stayed for the occasion. They’re huddled in groups, avoiding looking in my direction. Not that it bothers me. In fact, my new social reject status will make functions more bearable going forward.
I don’t understand why we had to attend, but the family thought it would look worse if we weren’t there. Rumours spread like wildfire, but no one is interested in the truth. Judging by how they’re treating me like a leper, they’ve already reached their verdict. I’m the bad influence who drove Beatrice to drugs. Case closed.
I sigh and text Bram again:
Is everything okay?
Still nothing. My previous messages remain unread. It’s hard to think about anything but what’s happening in the crypt. I removed my earpiece before arriving, and I’ve been checkingmy phone every few minutes. Bram doesn’t usually go quiet. He must still be sulking about being left behind.
A waiter thrusts a silver tray under my nose. “Champagne?”
“Don’t you listen?” I explode, losing my patience. “I said no to champagne three fucking times already.”
The poor guy pales, and we attract raised eyebrows from bystanders. He’s only doing his job, but how many times do I need to repeat myself? He stammers an apology and rushes off.
“Darling, you need to calm down.” Mother waltzes over to intervene. “Maybe you need to go easy on the fizz, hm?”
“I’m not drinking,” I snap.
