Page 73 of House of Soot

I don't want you dead. His words in the wine cellar come back to me. He could have escaped, but he found me to protect me. He shot Ronan to save me.

“I’ve sent someone to protect your mother.”

His words shock me out of my fear-filled haze. “My mother?” She's still recovering from surgery, vulnerable and alone.

He nods. “I don’t know that she’s in danger, but in case the Keans want to use her to get to you, or me, I have someone protecting her.” He reaches his hand to me. “Right now, though, you and I need to get the hell out. Now.”

Whatever Blaise's true intentions, he helped save my mother’s life. Got her the heart transplant she desperately needed. I feel like I don’t have much choice at this point but to trust him. Not with my heart. Never again with my heart. But if he can get me off the estate and me and my mother safe, I’ll trust him this one time.

A sound outside makes us both freeze. Footsteps crunch on gravel, drawing closer to the cottage.

"Jenna." Blaise's voice drops to an urgent whisper. "Please. Trust me one last time. Just until we're safe."

I push away from the wall, wiping tears from my cheeks. "Fine. But only because I don't have a choice."

I force my shaking legs to move, following Blaise toward the back door. Every instinct screams at me to run the other direction, away from the man who betrayed me, away from the killer who shot Ronan. But logic wins out.

We exit the back door and I follow Blaise, moving like a shadow through the yard, staying close to the hedges. I stumble after him, my heart thundering so loud I'm sure it will give us away. When I trip on a root, his hand catches my elbow,steadying me. The touch sends electricity through my skin, familiar yet foreign now that I know the truth.

"Stay close," he whispers, leading me toward the grove of oak trees near the back of the estate. The same grove where we had our picnic. Where I gave myself to him completely, believing in our connection. Fresh tears blur my vision, but I blink them back. I can't afford to break down now.

A shout rings out from the direction of the main house. Flashlight beams cut through the darkness, sweeping across the grounds. Blaise pulls me behind a thick oak tree, pressing me against the rough bark. His body shields mine as the lights pass by.

His breath fans across my face, and for a moment I'm transported back to all the times he's held me like this before. I remind myself that those moments were lies and I have to fight the urge to shove him away from me.

The voices fade and Blaise steps back, checking our surroundings before motioning me forward. We weave through the trees, moving deeper into the shadows. I begin to see each step as moving away from everything I’ve ever known. My home. My job. Where am I going? What will I do?

The massive oak looms ahead, our oak. I nearly weep as the memories flood back. Blaise pulls me behind its thick trunk, his body pressing close as voices echo in the distance. His familiar scent surrounds me. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the urge to lean into his warmth like I would have just hours ago.

Blaise pulls out his phone, keeping his voice low while scanning our surroundings.

"Phoenix, we need extraction at the gate. Through the woods. Where Flint picked me up—" Blaise pauses, listening. "Yes, both of us.”

Flint. Blaise. All of a sudden, it hits me. The Ifrinns. I look up into his face, at the man I’d known when I was child and he was a teen. I never recognized him.

“Have the car ready." He ends the call with a sharp tap.

More shouts echo from the direction of the house. The search parties are spreading out, methodically covering the grounds.

"We need to move." Blaise reaches for my hand, but I pull back. The hurt that flashes across his face almost breaks my resolve. Almost.

"I can follow on my own." My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

He nods once, sharp and professional. Like we're strangers. I suppose we are. I never really knew him at all.

"Stay close. The gate's not far, but it will feel like miles." He moves forward, picking a path through the trees.

I trail behind him, trying to step where he steps to minimize noise. Each snapped twig makes me flinch, certain it will give away our position.

The voices grow fainter as we push deeper into the woods, but I can't shake the feeling of being hunted.

A twig snaps behind us, and before I can turn, a guard steps out from behind a tree. "Found y?—”

Blaise’s silenced shot is so quiet I almost miss it. One moment, the guard is reaching for his radio. The next, he crumples to the ground. Just like that. A life snuffed out in a nanosecond.

My hand clamps over my mouth to stifle a gasp. Blaise moves with terrifying efficiency, dragging the body behind some bushes. There's no hesitation, no remorse in his movements. This isn't the tender lover I thought I knew. This is a trained killer.

I watch in stunned silence as Blaise plucks the radio from the dead guard's belt. He adjusts something on the device, then speaks into it with an accent I've never heard from him before.

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