“If we can get onto the grounds and into the house,” Helen reminded him. “To say nothing of timing it all correctly and getting close enough to Alastor to actually use the sword.”
“True.” Raum sheathed the sword, hitching it to his belt. “How did you get in last time?”
Griffin walked to one of the worktables and unrolled the schematic of Alastor’s estate. It was odd, clustering around it and seeing halls they had traversed, ground she had covered as she tried to make her escape with Griffin and Darius, as a series of straight lines and scattered markings.
“We came up from the tunnels here.” Griffin tapped the area in the woods between the house and the front gate.
“And you exited the same way?” Raum was still looking at the drawing.
“Yes,” Griffin confirmed.
Raum looked up at him. “That’s a lot of ground to cover, especially with the dogs on your trail. I’m surprised you made it.”
Looking at the drawing, at the distance they had covered from the house to the tunnel opening, Helen couldn’t have agreed more, though she didn’t say so aloud.
“We weren’t exactly overflowing with options,” Darius sneered.
Raum ignored him. “There are two other access routes, but neither of them is without risk.”
“What are they?” Helen asked.
He lowered his eyes to the drawing. “There’s a place in the fence here.” He indicated an area to the rear of the house, as he continued. “The security is spotty. The fence is set back from the house. In the woods, actually. The guards tend to skip it every other round or so.”
Darius interrupted. “I doubt they’ll be skipping it now. They’re probably on high alert.”
“Perhaps.” Raum shrugged. “But I think it’s still a potential way in if we observe the schedule of the guards for a couple of hours beforehand. The problem is, it’s a terrible way out. The fence is iron and topped with points. It would take some time to scale.”
“Then how will we get over it to get in?” Helen asked.
Raum’s answer was simple. “With effort. We’ll have to aid one another and the last person over will have no help at all. But it is not impossible given enough time, and we’ll probably have more of that on the way in.”
Now Helen understood. “But on the way out, we may well be on the run.”
“Exactly,” Raum said. “Which brings me to the second option.” He touched a familiar place on the map.
“The kitchen?” Griffin asked.
“There’s a tunnel entrance there. In the pantry closet.”
“Our plans for the tunnels don’t show that entrance.” There was suspicion in Darius’s voice, as if Raum was intentionally trying to lead them astray.
“That’s because this schematic is based on plans laid out by the city when the tunnels were originally built,” Raum explained.
Griffin looked up from the drawing. “Are there a different set of plans that we don’t know about?”
“Not plans, no.” Raum said. “But Alsorta had a private entrance to the tunnels built directly from the house.”
“Why would he want access to the sewer tunnels?” Helen asked.
“If you were a member of the Blackguard disguised as a mortal businessman, would you want your associates to use the front door?”
Griffin nodded knowingly. “So he uses the secret tunnel as an entry and exit point for members of the Legion.”
“Exactly.”
“How very convenient,” Darius said drily. “So why wouldn’t we use the tunnel entrance within the house instead of the fence to gain access to the house on the way in?”
“In the kitchen?” Raum raised his eyebrows. “Clearly, you haven’t spent much time in one.”
“What Raum means,” Helen broke in, trying to head off an argument, or worse, an outright brawl, “is that kitchens are busy at all times of the day and night. The servants may be setting bread to rise for the morning or cleaning up after a late dinner party.”
“In or out, we’ll probably be seen if we use the kitchen entrance,” Raum said. “It’s just less of a danger on the way out, especially if we’ve managed to destroy Alsorta.”
“Which means we climb the fence at the back on the way in, and use the tunnels to escape when we’re done,” Helen finished.
Raum nodded. “And there’s one more thing.”
They were all looking at him now, the drawing forgotten.
“What is it?” Griffin asked.
“Alsorta—Alastor—has a newfangled system of lighting. The lamps are lit by a system that pipes gas throughout the house. They’re lit with a switch and put out the same way. We’ll need to extinguish them by cutting off the supply from the cellar as soon as we’re in the house.”
“Why?” Helen shook her head. “Why take the time? We can extinguish them as we go if necessary.”
“And give Alastor the chance to summon the wraiths?”
Understanding was finding its way into Helen’s mind, wading through the bits and pieces of knowledge she had gleaned over the past few days.
“They’ll come through the light,” she finally said. “They’ll jump and come to Alastor’s aid if we give them the chance.”
“Yes,” Raum confirmed. “And while we might stand a chance of fending off Alastor and his mortal henchmen, I would not like to lay odds if we were up against the demon himself and an army of underlings, however mindless they may be.”
Griffin straightened, his voice as hard as iron. “Then we won’t give him the chance to summon them.”
THIRTY-FOUR
How much longer?” Helen tried to keep her teeth from clattering together as they hid outside Alastor’s fence at the rear of the house.
They had made their way to the estate using the sewer tunnels, this time emerging two miles from the house. Walking quickly, they arrived at the edge of the property in less than half an hour. It had not been difficult to stay hidden. They used the woods to skirt the grounds until they came to the poorly lit section of fence that Raum had shown them on the map. It had been at least three hours since their arrival, and Helen was beginning to fear that she would be too cold to scale the fence when the time finally came.
“If he sticks to the schedule he’s been keeping,” Griffin said from the tree next to her, “he should be by again in about ten minutes.”
“And they should skip this section of the fence on the next go-round,” Darius said from the shadows. “Which means we’ll move as soon as he passes to maximize our time.”
Raum, leaning against a tree on the other side of her, said nothing. Helen sensed his isolation in every move of his body. In the distance he had kept between them on the road to the house. In the position of his hand, on the sickle at his belt even when there wasn’t a guard in sight. As if he expected them to turn on him at any moment. As if they were not to be trusted, even as they cast their lot with his and prepared to enter Alastor’s lair.
“I’m going to take a look at the fence,” Griffin whispered from her right. “I might be able to formulate a strategy for getting over it more easily if I can get a closer look.”
Darius crouched low beside him. “I’ll go with you.”
“Stay here, Helen. Don’t move and don’t make a sound.” His eyes drifted to Raum. “Unless you need help, of course.”
She sighed, torn between apologizing to Raum and understanding Griffin’s concern. “I’ll be fine. Just be careful.”
Griffin nodded. They were gone a second later in a quiet rustle of leaves.
Helen turned to Raum. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “No apology necessary. If I were Griffin, I’d want to protect you from me as well.”
“Even still…” she said. “You’re helping us. It seems that should count for something.”
“In my experience, nothing counts for anything.” Despite the words, his voice was not bitter. It carried the same resignation she had heard before. As if he knew too much of the wo
rld. Had glimpsed the future and already knew there was no point in fighting the way things were.
“And yet, you’re here.”
She saw him nod in the dark. “That I am.”
“Why?” she whispered. “What made you change your mind?”
He picked a twig up from the ground, twisting it in his hands as he spoke. “My life. Or lack thereof.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s been fine, taking care of myself these past years. Being alone.” She knew from his voice that it was a lie, but she couldn’t steal his pride by saying so aloud. She listened quietly as he continued. “But it’s no kind of life. Not really. I think it’s time I face the Dictata and be well and truly free. I’m tired of running.” He paused. “And then there is the matter of you.”
The last part surprised her. “Me?”
He sighed. “Yes.”
“What about me?”
There was a long pause before he spoke again. “It’s been a long time since someone believed in me, Helen. A long time since I’ve believed in myself. But these past days…”
“Yes?” she asked softly.
He plucked absently at the leaves on the ground. “I’ve felt your belief in me, and though it seems small, I’ve begun to wonder if that’s all we really need. Just one person who knows us truly. One person who knows the darkness that lies within and believes in us anyway.”
She thought about the words, wondering if they were true.
“And there’s one more thing,” he said softly.
“What is it?”
“I don’t want to see you hurt.” He turned toward her, his eyes finding hers in the dark. “It’s mad, isn’t it? We haven’t seen each other since we were children, yet I feel the strongest desire to protect you.”
The confession made it difficult to breathe. What could she say? That ever since he had found her in the factory building she had not been sure of anything? That her own loyalties were constantly in question because of the distant remembrance of a blue-eyed boy who looked upon her with affection and gave her uncut keys in the garden?
He had favored her with the truth. She would do the same.
“I feel the same way about you.”
He chuckled softly in the darkness. His laughter was tense and unsure, as if he hadn’t done it in a very long time. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I hardly have need of your protection. I’m a foot taller and outweigh you by a hundred pounds.”
She smiled at the truth of it as something warm and familiar moved between them. It was not unlike falling into one’s own bed after a long journey.
“Yes, but there are other kinds of danger,” she said.
“Like what?”
“Loneliness. Guilt. Despair.” She smiled. “To name a few.”
“What will you do when this is all over?” Raum asked.
“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll learn the things I need to know in order to fulfill my duty as one of the Keepers. I’ll rebuild the house I was raised in.” She met his eyes. “Plant a new garden.”
She couldn’t pull her gaze from his. Not when he placed his hand against her cheek. Not even when he rubbed his thumb gently against her lips. His skin was callused and rough, and she reveled in the feel of it. All of her loss—and yes, all of her affection—was reflected in his eyes.
“The guard’s coming.” Raum dropped his hand from her face as Griffin appeared next to her. “As soon as he passes we make our move.”
Helen nodded, her face afire with shame and, if she were honest with herself, something dangerously close to desire.
Darius settled against the trunk of the tree next to Griffin. A few moments later, Helen heard the boot steps of the approaching guard on the other side of the fence. She looked straight ahead, marking the guard’s position by the light that bobbed over the ground, casting strange shadows in the trees. It was a cursory pass, as they had come to expect. If Alastor had put his men on alert, they had their focus elsewhere. Clearly, no one was very worried about the wooded tree line at the back of the house. It made Helen angry. Obviously, Alastor thought they were stupid enough to use the same point of entry and exit twice in a row.
They listened as the guard’s footsteps faded into the distance, his light disappearing into the night. Then they all sat up and prepared to move.
“We think we have a way over,” Griffin said. “Come on.”
She followed him and Darius to the fence, feeling Raum’s presence behind her and forcibly banishing from her mind the moment that had passed between them while Griffin had been gone. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was here and now—destroying Alastor and the Legion’s foothold in this world.
They came to the iron fence. Helen gazed upward, looking for its end. She couldn’t find it. Whether due to its height or the black iron that blended into the darkness around them, the fence seemed to go on and on, stretching endlessly into the night sky.
The first spasm of panic gripped her. She ignored it as Griffin began unlacing his shirt.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“We’re going to make a rope,” he explained. “We’ll tie our shirts together and you’ll add… whatever it is you can add while remaining decent—”
“Wait a minute,” she interrupted, certain she had not heard him correctly. “You want me to undress? Here?”
“It’s the only way,” Griffin continued, removing his shirt to bare his muscled shoulders. “If we knot the rope at the top, letting it hang on either side of the fence, we can use it to climb up and over. Darius will go first, followed by Raum. After that, I’ll give you a boost up.”
“And then what?” She was trying to imagine it in her mind, and while she thought she understood what he was suggesting, she sincerely hoped she was wrong.
He looked into her eyes. “You’ll have to use the knots on the rope to place your feet and hands, but it will be easier than trying to scale the fence itself. The bars are smooth iron and run parallel to each other. There’s nothing to hold onto without the rope.”
She wanted to laugh aloud at the idea of it. She could barely ride a horse without falling off. Scaling an iron fence topped by sharp points in the dead of night did not bode well.
But she knew there was no point debating the idea. This was it. Their way in.
And if the men could do it, so would she, even if it did require climbing the rope and partially undressing in the middle of the woods.
She removed her jacket and handed it to Griffin, already knotting his shirt to Darius’s. A few seconds later, Raum handed his shirt to her to add to the rope. She caught the scent of something musky and warm in the fabric and flashed to the moment he had touched her lips with his thumb. She hurried to pass the shirt to Griffin before she could become even more distracted.
She had hoped her jacket, put together with the men’s shirts, would be enough. But when Griffin and Darius spread out the knotted clothing, even she could see it would not get them close to the ground on either side.
Griffin turned to her. “I’m sorry, Helen.” His gaze dropped to her chest. “Do you have anything on under that?”
Her cheeks burned. “Just a corset and chemise.”
He inhaled deeply, his eyes apologetic. “I’m afraid we’re going to need your shirt. It still won’t get as close as I’d like, but every little bit will help.”
She nodded, aware that they were running out of time. Pushing aside her mortification, she started on her own blouse, avoiding the eyes of the men as she removed the shirt and passed it to Griffin.
It did not take him long to finish the rope. When he did, he double-checked the knots and turned to Darius.
“Ready?”
Darius nodded.
Griffin threw one end of the makeshift rope toward the top of the fence. It didn’t work, and he tried several more times before turning to them in frustration. “It’s too light. I can’t get the end of it over the top of the fence.”
Raum ch
ose a large rock from the ground and reached a hand toward the rope. “Let me.”
Griffin hesitated a moment before handing it over.
Once Raum had the rope in hand, he created a pouch on one end, placing the stone inside and knotting it securely in place. Then, he stepped back and threw. The rock, trailing the rest of the rope, flew up and over the fence. Helen watched their knotted clothing unfurl on the other side.
Griffin looked at Raum. “Nicely done.”
Darius reached toward the fence, grasping both ends of the rope and lacing them together. He walked backward, pulling them until the knot rose, bit by bit, to the top of the fence. He gave it one last powerful tug, ensuring that it was knotted securely at the top. Then, he let go, leaving one end of the rope dangling on either side of the iron fence.
Grasping the end closest to him, he glanced at Griffin. “See you on the other side, brother.”
He started climbing.
He made it look easy, but Helen knew that it was deceiving. Darius was strong. He pulled himself quickly from knot to knot, using his feet to steady himself on the swinging rope. Finally, they heard the sound of boots on metal and knew he had reached the top. He dropped to the ground on the other side less than a minute later.
Darius grinned at them through the bars of the fence. “Piece of cake.”
Raum took the rope, glancing once toward the top, and began climbing without another word. He was two knots up when he stopped moving. A few seconds later he dropped back to the ground.
“What is it?” Helen asked. “What’s wrong?”
He hesitated a moment before reaching for his belt. “I can’t move freely with the sword swinging at my side.”
He turned to the fence, his eyes meeting Darius’s through the bars. A moment later, he passed the sword through with obvious reluctance, returning wordlessly to the rope. No one said anything as he rose into the darkness. His ascent was as effortless as Darius’s, and nervousness built in Helen’s bones as he climbed. She would have to go next, never mind her fear.
Raum hit the ground on the other side. There was sweat on his brow when he held the rope out to Helen through the fence.
A Temptation of Angels Page 24
