Page 51 of Unbroken
“But we checked the place,” the other argued. “It’s just the house settling.”
Ves’s ears strained for any sound. Could Noct have returned for some reason? Maybe he’d forgotten something, and Irene had brought the car back and realized they were in trouble?
A loud crash made everyone jump. “Fuck it,” said the guard with the knife. “Stay here and keep an eye on the prisoner. Shoot him if he so much as twitches.”
Ves tensed as the guard left with his knife out and ready. That left only the gunman in here; much better odds. If he could tear his way free, the guard might concentrate on stopping him and leave Bonnie alone. So long as the bullets didn’t hit anything immediately fatal, he’d probably survive.
The stairs creaked under the first guard’s weight. Ves tracked him by the sound of his steps, going down the hall, checking first one bedroom, then the next. It sounded as though he halted a few moments in the bathroom. Then footsteps retraced his path, but the tread was less heavy, the gait subtly different.
“Was it anything?” the gunman yelled.
No answer. Frowning slightly, the guard started to step out into the hall.
“Hey!” Ves yelled.
Startled, the gunman turned toward Ves—and the gun exploded in his hand.
Ves shielded himself from the flying shrapnel, prayed none of it hit Bonnie or Clara. The man collapsed to the floor, moaning in agony, his hand gone and blood covering his upper body. A moment later, the swift flick of a knife ended his cries.
Lenore Rune straightened, bloodied blade in her hand. She turned to Ves, and the smile on her lips turned his blood to ice.
“Hello, son,” she said. “Glad to see me?”
The coach rattled through the streets of Widdershins, moving at a brisk pace but not quickly enough to attract attention. Not that many people were out this late on a Thursday night, at least in this part of the city. Lightning flickered across the distant horizon, and clouds raced to cover the stars.
Sebastian’s thoughts chased themselves in circles. The museum—once they arrived, there had to be something he could do. The library was a maze; if he could get away from the Chancellor and her men, he could hide among the stacks where they couldn’t find him.
But then what? She had to be in contact with the guards at the house, either magically or otherwise. Would she simply send word to start killing hostages until Sebastian surrendered?
There had to be some way out of this. Had to be.
His scars came to life, burning and tugging. Victoria was nearby.
Sebastian held still, barely daring to breathe. What did this mean? Did she just happen to be close, or?—
A heavy weight struck the top of the coach.
The footman only had time to scream—and keep screaming, even as his body tumbled past the window and into the street. Spooked, the horses broke into a run, while the driver shouted imprecations.
Then he began to scream, too.
“If your friends have come to rescue you, I’ll flay your sister alive before I kill her,” the Chancellor snarled. Gripping her blackthorn staff, she clung to the seat, while the coach swayed wildly. Seemingly undisturbed by the fact the horses were out of control, she began to chant in a low, guttural tone. Pale light sprang up around her, and she lifted her free hand.
The coach’s window shattered as an arm like a tree branch punched through. Eyes going wide with shock at the failure of her spell, the Chancellor barely had time to turn before she was torn out of the coach.
Sebastian’s heart pounded in his ears, nearly drowning out the thunder of hooves, the frantic neighing of the horses. He needed to do something, to jump free or?—
One of the coach’s wheels struck a curb. The entire conveyance tipped to one side, seemed to hang perfectly balanced for an eternal moment—then went over.
Sebastian could only fling his bound hands in front of him as he was hurled into the side. Glass shattered, wood splintered, and his head bounced off the roof so hard he saw stars. The whole world seemed to slide, taking him along helplessly for the ride.
Eventually, it ground to a stop. The sound of hooves receded—the coach’s tongue must have snapped, letting the horses continue their panicked dash while the conveyance was left behind.
Sebastian blinked something—blood?—out of his eyes. His head ached, and he felt queasy, but he didn’t think anything was broken. He just needed to rest for a few moments…
The coach door was ripped away above him. He managed to lift his pounding skull a few inches, saw Victoria’s half-human, half-tree face above him.
“Victoria?” he mumbled, confused. What had happened? He was tied up…
