Page 146 of Cinder
Surprising me, she concedes, and I open the door.
Immediately, the blast of cool, stale air hits me, and I descend the tight stairwell which is lit by wall sconces, and the air gets cooler as we descend deeper into the bowels of the mansion.
I can hear the Knights moving around upstairs. They’re checking rooms for anyone who might be hiding in the mansion.
At the bottom step, there is a long hallway which leads to a door.
We stop at the door. It’s timber. Probably reinforced, but I’ll take my chances.
“Stand back, baby,” I say. We don’t know what’s behind this door, and if it’s someone waving a gun around then I need to be able to protect Ella.
She does as I say, and I kick the door, but it resists. So I kick it again and again until it implodes inward.
Immediately, the room behind it comes into view. It’s large, with brick walls and a low ceiling. It’s pooled with golden light from more wall sconces.
The only shadow in the room is near the far wall where there is a bed, medical equipment and a trolley of medical supplies.
And lying on the bed is a body connected to IV fluids.
Angelo Moretti.
Ella’s father.
Behind me, Ella cries out and pushes past me and flings herself at the bed. “Father!”
“Goddammit,” Beast says from behind me. His head is bent because of the low ceiling. “Is that who I think it is?”
“Looks like he’s been locked down here and drugged.”
Beast looks around. “Walls look soundproof so no one could hear him scream if he woke up.”
“Fuck, this is medieval shit,” I say, taking in the old man’s form on the bed. He is out cold. Pale and gaunt. Barely alive.
Beast pulls out his phone. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“There’s a few bodies around,” I warn him.
“Inside or out?” he asks.
I give him a sheepish grin. “Both.”
He nods. “I brought Bear, Gambit, Axe, and Ryder with me. They’ll load the bodies into the van and dispose of them in the usual place.”
The usual place being the Devil’s Mouth.
“We’ll leave Luca where he is for the authorities,” Beast adds. “He’s too high profile to hide.”
“He was able to hide his father,” I say, looking at an emaciated Angelo on the bed.
“Yes, but he put on an elaborate funeral. Don’t think your girl is going to give him such a farewell.” He pauses. “It’s your kill, so it’s your call. It’s a clear case of self-defense. Although the severed hand might be tricky to explain.”
“It’s not my kill. It was Ella’s.”
Beast’s expression doesn’t change. He simply nods.
“Go take care of your girl,” he says. “We’ve got this handled.”
I walk over to the bed where Ella weeps, holding her father in her arms.
