by Riley Pine
The warden blinks but finally grabs her radio. “Main Yard to Solitary, Main Yard to Solitary.”
There is a crackle over the walkie-talkie. “This is Solitary, over.”
“Yeah, I have a priest here who needs to hear the confession for the new prisoner you have on the floor.”
“Prisoner 54329?”
“That’s our girl.”
“She started a hunger strike. She might be weak.”
The warden’s smile chills my blood. It is a promise of torture and cruelty untold. “Tell her to get moving or I’ll drag her out myself...by that long ponytail of hers. She is scum, just like her thieving husband.”
“Copy. She will be sent to the chapel. Over.”
The warden smacks her fleshy lips with satisfaction. “You do-gooders don’t know. These people are criminals. You have to treat them with a heavy hand. Fear is what will save them in the end. Not love.”
I draw myself to my full height and allow a glimmer of my royal arrogance to gleam through my eyes. “That’s enough.”
She gasps and takes a few hurried steps back. “These lives, Father. They don’t matter.”
“I disagree,” I say firmly. “Now take me to the chapel.”
Evangeline
I pace outside the car while X leans against the front bumper, relaxed as if the prince sneaking into prison—unrecognized—is something that happens every day. Every few paces I stop and glance up at the stone wall that must be twenty feet high, the menacing barbed wire tracing the perimeter.
“Do you really have a zip line set for Benedict to escape if need be?” I ask.
X nods.
“How? This place is a secure fortress. And you didn’t even know we were coming here until you walked into the annex this morning.”
The man merely straightens his tie. “You didn’t know we were coming here until I walked into the annex this morning.”
My mouth opens and closes as I try to decide whether or not he is playing me. “You know heights are not his favorite, right?” I ask, sounding like a petulant child. Though it’s not X who is deserving of my chastisement. I am. Because if anything happens to Benedict, it will be because of his involvement with me.
X simply nods again. “It is amazing what one can overcome when he has no choice but to face his demons.”
I cross my arms and set my jaw. “Haven’t enough choices been taken from him?”
X raises a brow, like he knows that my desire for Benedict to choose his own path is sprinkled with my own selfish hope.
Just then a crackling sound comes from the open window of the Rolls-Royce.
“What was that?”
He grins.
“That, Miss Evangeline, is our royal highness, Prince Benedict.”
I run to the window and peek inside. “Did you tap into some sort of internal audio system?” I ask, expecting to see computer equipment that would alert me to X’s possible hacking abilities, but all I find is a fancy digital watch sitting on the dashboard. I brandish it toward X. When my eyes meet his again, he takes the watch, fastens it to his wrist and shakes his head.
“A bug,” he says, and I swat at the air around my head.
“Where?” I ask. “Is it a wasp? I think I might be allergic.” My eyes dart from side to side looking for the would-be attacker. X steps around the nose of the car and grabs the hand that tries to shoo away the invisible insect.
“Not that kind of bug, Evangeline.” He points to the watch. “This kind of bug.”
“You have five minutes,” a faint but distasteful voice speaks. “Then this one can get back to starving herself.”
Someone makes a soft grunt, and then I hear him speak.
“Are you ready to make your confession, my child?”
It’s Benedict, loud and clear. But it’s the next voice that stops my heart.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been...a long time since my last confession. I’ve done many things, told white lies, taken the Lord’s name in vain, been envious of other people. But you have to believe me that I’m innocent of any crimes that have landed me in this godforsaken hellhole.” She gasps. “Forgive me again, Father. But someone is trying to hurt my husband and is now using me to do it. And our girl...” The woman sobs softly, her words muffled but understandable just the same. “They have taken everything from us. Just, please, find my darling girl.”
“Camille!” I cry, but X covers my mouth with his strong hand.
“Listen,” he whispers. “But do not call out, for either of them. Do you understand, Evangeline?”
I nod, trying to calm myself. But I cannot, not after I hear the desperation in my sister-in-law’s words, not now that this is all too real. Jasper. Camille. Lola. Even Papa. They’ve all been taken from me, punished one by one, all for some stupid map hidden behind my painted face. A painting I was sent to find—one I may now give my life to protect.
“What if I said I could take you to her?” Benedict asks, and my whole being stills. What is he talking about? We came to talk to Camille, to find out what happened to get her locked up. Benedict couldn’t possibly have the means to do what he’s offering.
“Then you would be more powerful than God himself,” Camille says. “I have prayed, begged, beseeched the Lord with my pleas to save my daughter, but I see no way out of this horrid place.”
“Not out,” Benedict says. “Over.”
My eyes widen. Benedict went in there alone, but he plans to come out with Camille.
“I’m going to remove my hand now,” X says. “That is, if you think you can behave.”
I nod again, and he steps away, lowering his palm from my mouth.
“He came here to get her out?” I ask softly. “We came here to save her? Is this why there’s a zip line?”
The corner of X’s mouth quirks into a devilish grin.
“How can you possibly smile at a time like—”
But X isn’t listening to me. Instead, he brings his wrist to his mouth, touches something on the watch and then speaks to it.
“Now, Highness! Grab the girl and get out of that place at once!”
I hear Camille yelp, and almost immediately after, shouts ring out across the prison yard.
“There’s a jumper at the chapel!”
“Prison break!”
“Is that a...flying priest?”
“Holy shit. Sound the alarms!”
And then the alarms do sound. Just as quickly I hear a whistling and whirring noise, which is when I notice the nearly invisible line that skates over the sharpened wire that follows the perimeter atop the wall.
“They aren’t going to make it!” I cry, caring nothing for the volume of my voice at this point.
“Get in the car!” X cries, forcing me toward my door. “Now! Now! Now!”
He throws open the door and hurtles me inside. I barely have time to right myself before we are careening away from the prison wall.
“What are you doing?” I scream, frantically clawing at the glass partition. “You can’t leave them!”
My hand is on the door handle, and I’m ready to throw it open, to tuck and roll and run back to do...I don’t know what! I am helpless to save Benedict and Camille, just as I was helpless to save my father. My brother.
X slams on the brakes hard. I’m thrown from my seat and onto the floor of the vehicle. I scramble for the door, but it opens before I can get to it. There stands my prince, dusting off his priestly habit with one hand, his other entwined with Camille’s.
“Eva!” Camille cries when she sees me.
“Highness, we must get to the safe house. My associate will meet us there with the child.”
Benedict helps my shell-shocked sister-in-law into the car, and she hiccups on a sob. “Evangeline...did he just say ‘the child’? Does he mean
my Lola?”
As soon as everyone is in the car, X races off again.
“He does, miss,” Benedict answers her question.
“Wait, I know you.” Camille’s eyes bug out of her head. “I thought you looked familiar in the prison. But it can’t be... Am I dreaming? Has that terrible prison made me mad already?”
“You’re safe. Just breathe.” I grab her hand and give her a warm squeeze. “But how?” I ask my lover. “Did you know? I mean, I thought we were only going to get information.”
Benedict shrugs. “This is X’s doing, angel. All I knew was that eventually I’d have to jump. The rest is X’s secret to reveal.”
But the man behind the wheel stays silent, so I wrap my brother’s wife in a hug and squeeze as I whisper, “I’m sorry,” over and over again.
Then I check both her and Benedict for any barbed wire–related injuries and see nothing to give me pause until I find a tear in Benedict’s pants above his outer thigh, blood staining the edges of the fabric.
“You’re hurt,” I say, my throat tightening.
“I’ll live.”
Then I launch myself into his arms and kiss him hard.
Camille gasps, and Benedict smiles against my lips.
“Camille Vernazza,” I say, “meet Benedict Lorentz, Prince of Edenvale.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Benedict
“WE’VE GOT COMPANY,” X says grimly, interrupting the family reunion taking place in the back seat of the Rolls.
A squadron of sirens fills the air. I twist around, my gaze narrowing. A dozen patrol units are in hot pursuit, speeding up the steep mountain switchback below. If I had any illusions they were hoping to bring us in for questioning, it’s shattered when a flurry of gunshots erupt in staccato pops.
“Get down!” I fly over Evangeline and Camille, shielding them with my body. Dull metallic thuds shudder through the car as bullets riddle the bumper.
“I’ve never heard of law enforcement behaving in such a way,” Evangeline breathes. Her body trembles, sending my protective instincts into hyperdrive. There is nothing—no damn thing—that I wouldn’t do to keep this woman safe and free from suffering. My body would happily endure any torments, as long as she makes it through this ordeal alive.
“Law enforcement would never act in this fashion,” X snaps.
“These thugs are going through a hell of a lot of trouble trying to appear as rank-and-file police officers. The sirens are an especially authentic touch. But no.” His voice hardens. “There is nothing legal about the men pursuing us. They are here for one thing and one thing alone. The map to the Spring. And they will stop at nothing until it is in their possession.”
Evangeline grips her now sobbing sister-in-law.
“This is all my fault! We’ll be caught for sure.” Her eyes, sheened with her own tears, meet mine over the top of Camille’s head. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into my mess. My brother and I are cursed. We hurt everyone we come in contact with and—”
“Don’t say that!” Camille cries. “Your brother is a hero to Rosegate—”
“Hold on.” X takes a bend at over one hundred and thirty kilometers an hour.
Jesus Christ, he isn’t breaking a sweat.
Who is this guy?
Evangeline brushes an errant strand of hair. “The danger that you’re all facing is because—”
“Of our choosing,” Camille interrupts. “I knew what your brother was before I agreed to marry him.”
“What?” Evangeline’s laugh is incredulous. “A mild-mannered art historian? What danger did you think he’d get you into? A narcoleptic state where he waxed on for five hours on the birth of French Classicism or inquiries into Gothic architecture?”
Camille’s brows smash together. “But surely you know.”
“She doesn’t,” X says in a steady voice, increasing the speed as he pushes the throttle into fourth gear. “Evangeline hasn’t been informed of a great many things. Her brother and father left her in the dark, hoping to keep her safe. I’m sad to say it’s had the opposite effect.”
Outside the Rolls’s windows, the mountain wildflowers blur into a single hue of pinkish purple. The engine hums. We’re going too fast. There’s no way we can hope to take the next turn.
Sweat prickles my chest. X meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. He silently asks for my trust. The sirens grow louder. My brother Nikolai trusted this man with his life day after day, and also the life of his true love. Now I must do the same. I give a single curt nod, and I swear the man smiles.
“Your brother? Mild-mannered?” Camille gives me a disbelieving laugh. “You really don’t know!”
“Know whaaaaaaaaaaa!” Evangeline cries out as X misses the next turn altogether and flies straight off the asphalt.
My stomach turns in a sickening somersault as the Rolls soars through space. No one screams. The two women must be in shock, because there is only stillness. It reminds me of the time I flew in a glider with Damien and Nikolai, back when we were three brothers united by love and laughter.
The sirens fade behind us, but below a mournful whistle cuts through the valley.
A train.
“Excellent.” X checks his watch. “The 5:55 express from Geneva is running right on time.”
“You can’t be serious,” I say as the Rolls descends faster and faster. Outside my window a bird of prey soars past and does a double take.
“Serious is my middle name.” X grips the wheel. “I’ve timed it perfectly. Everyone stay calm, and—that’s it, really. Just stay calm.”
A twelve-car commuter train stretches out beneath us.
“You’ve done this before?” I shout.
A small muscle in his jaw twitches. “Of course not! Who’d be insane enough to drive a Rolls-Royce off a mountain and try to land on a moving train?”
The next three seconds go fast and slow all at the same fucking time. I feel as if I live a thousand lifetimes in fear, not for myself but for the woman beside me. She’s going to survive this no matter what happens. There’s a thump and X slams the brakes.
We are balanced in the center of the car.
He dusts off his shoulders. “Well, I have good news and bad news.”
“After the stunt you pulled, I’ll take the good first, thanks,” I snap, fighting to keep my heart in my chest.
“We’re alive.”
“That is always a bonus,” I comment wryly. “Now for the bad news.”
“We’re about to go into the St. Georges Tunnel.” He gestures to the looming black hole in front of us. “I’m afraid that the Rolls is lost. A pity. I love this car.”
Evangeline and Camille grip each other tightly.
“The train will slow going into the tunnel.” I go into hyper-focus. “We’ll need to jump.”
“Yes.” X doesn’t hesitate because we are obviously out of time. “An unconventional but necessary outcome, I’m afraid, Highness.”
“Jump?” Camille moans. “We’ll break our necks. I’m going to leave Lola an orphan.”
The whistle blows as the engine car disappears into the mountain tunnel. The train begins to drop in speed.
“Here’s what we’ll do.” I’m utterly calm, my protective instincts taking over. Nothing bad will happen to Evangeline. I will do whatever it takes to see her safe. “Stay loose. Fear makes you tense. If you stay relaxed, you’ll have a better chance of not being injured.”
Evangeline gives me a surprised look.
“Before I was in the seminary, I was a black belt student of jujitsu. I even trained in Brazil for a summer. We learned how to fall properly through hours of relentless practice.”
X nods. “Yes. Good advice. We’re going to all jump off the left side.”
“The key will be to land on the balls of your feet, press your
knees together and keep your chin tucked at all costs,” I order. “When you hit, twist so that your calves and thighs hit the ground before your head and shoulders.”
Evangeline is shaking as Camille hyperventilates.
“There is no choice. The tunnel is here!”
Evangeline
“Now!” X cries, and before I can react, he throws the driver’s-side door open and leaps from the vehicle.
Tears stream down my face as I look at Camille. “Go!” I say. “You must get to Lola!”
She nods, and Benedict flings open the door. She doesn’t look back—scared as I know she is—and jumps.
A strange silence holds Benedict and I suspended in this final moment. Logically, I know that the train’s engine alone is deafening, but my world has boiled down into his eyes.
“I’m not leaving you,” I say with a sob.
His green eyes shine as he forces a smile. “We cannot jump together, angel. It is too dangerous. You must go first.” He takes my hand and squeezes it. “If I could give my heart to any other than God, Evangeline, I would give it to you. Whatever happens, know that this was never about what I hired you for, not after that first night.”
I open my mouth to say something in response, but the whistle blows violently, the final alarm.
“Jump!” he cries, and as I hurl myself from the door, I whisper words he cannot hear.
“I love you, my sweet prince.”
* * *
I try to remember Benedict’s directions as the ground speeds up to greet me, as I hear the sickening crash of metal hitting the tunnel walls—the Rolls.
Balls of my feet, bend my knees, twist. But I twist the wrong way, and I cry out as something feels like it snapped in my knee. The pain makes me gag.
I roll, my limbs now tucked to my chest as my cheeks scrape against branches strewn across the small clearing in the woods. When I finally stop moving, I lie there for a minute or two catching my breath, checking myself for any other injuries. I touch my cheek, and my fingertips come away with a light smear of blood. But everything else seems intact. That is, until I stand, forgetting about the whole knee-twisting-on-impact incident.
