Vengeance (The Captive #6)(59)

Her entire body hummed with tension; she could barely stand still as a muffled pop sounded from beside her. To her it sounded as loud as cannon shot, but no one on the street glanced in their direction as they continued about their business. If she’d been human, she swore she would have had a heart attack while standing there, her knees shaking. She forced herself to remain still instead of dancing around like she itched to do.

Another pop and then William vanished as swiftly as a snowflake on the tongue, into the basement beyond. She continued to stare at the street, counting the endless seconds as she waited for some sign he was safe within. A scream of frustration surged in her throat and strangled there.

Please come back, she pleaded.

It felt as if hours stretched by, but it was probably only a minute before he reemerged as noiselessly as a wraith beside her. “It’s safe, go on,” he told her in a low voice before stepping forward to block her from the road.

She glanced at him before kneeling down and slipping through the rectangular basement window he’d opened. Her feet hit the dirt ground of the stone foundation. The scent of mildewed rocks and the musty aroma from the things stored within filled her nostrils. Old furniture and boxes had been pushed into the corners of the room; white sheets were draped over most of them. Stepping forward, she brushed aside a cobweb tickling her cheek.

She moved further away from the window when William’s legs slid inside behind her. He had to squirm more than she did to get inside, but he made no sound when he dropped down beside her. He rose to his full height and turned to close and latch the window. Tempest remained unmoving as she stared into the shadowed recesses of the basement.

Nothing stirred within; not even a mouse scurried across the room. Her head tilted back to look at the wooden floor above her. The pall of silence hung heavily over the home. She scented the air as she tried to detect anything past the damp, mildew scent of the room around her.

Were the children and Pallas even in the home anymore?

“They have to still be here,” she whispered.

“They are,” he murmured.

She continued to try to hear or smell anything beyond this room, but there was nothing. He’s right, she told herself. They wouldn’t have taken the children out of here, it’s late, they’re probably all asleep already.

“Now what?” she whispered.

“Now we wait until we’re sure Kane and the others aren’t in the house,” he replied.

Taking hold of her hand, he led her deeper into the basement and toward a grouping of old couches pushed haphazardly against the back wall. She heard the first step above as he led her behind the couches. His head tilted up toward the floor. Tempest stared at him, inwardly pleading with him not to go after Kane if that’s who was above now.

Beside her, a shudder ran through his body. He gestured for her to sit. Tempest perched on the edge of the sofa, prepared to launch to her feet and stop him if he tried to leave. He turned away and moved deeper into the basement. She remained rooted to her spot, but she stayed focused on his every move, watchful for any sign he would bolt out of this room.

He stopped by a pile of blankets stacked on top of one of the boxes. Pulling the blankets off, he shook them out. Dust kicked out from them and swirled in the air around him. When he came back again, a streak of dust smeared his right cheek.

“You have to be tired,” he said.

“Exhausted,” she admitted.

He gestured at the couch. “Lay down.”

She glanced behind her, uncertain about having her back to the door. However, if someone came down, it would probably be best if the couch offered her some protection. She pulled her cloak off and placed it on the ground before lying on the couch. He draped the blanket over her before taking off his own cloak and setting it on the floor next to hers. She pressed her back against the couch, inching over to make enough room for him to lie down too. She had grown accustomed to having him next to her at night; she didn’t want that to change now. He settled beside her before drawing her into his arms and holding her against his chest.

They were well hidden and would hear anyone opening the door, but he remained rigid against her, his gaze focused on the floor above their heads. At first, she thought he was only being vigilant, but then she realized it was because he was so close, and yet still so far, from Kane.

She rested her hand on his chest, over the place where his heart had stopped beating. His wild scent filled her nose; the warmth of his body enveloped her. Sliding her leg over his, she hooked her foot around his calf. Beneath her, the thick muscle in his thigh rippled.

Her fingers slid into his shirt, hoping to draw his focus to her. He gave her a wan smile and kissed her forehead before turning his attention to the floor above once more. Tempest forced herself to close her eyes, but there was no way she was going to relax when he looked about ready to run upstairs at any second.

***

A yell jolted her awake in the morning. One of the children, she realized. She tried to bolt upright, but William’s hand on her back kept her down. She blinked as she stared around the dimly lit room in confusion. Memory of where they were crashed over her; her body became rigid as alarm churned within her gut. Another shout drew her eyes to the floor above them.

A loud wail resonated from above. Every instinct she had screamed at her to go upstairs and see what had caused such an anguish filled cry. The stomping of boots echoed on the wood floor and caused dust to fall from the rafters above them. She tried to jerk away when a loud slap followed the thud of the boots. A startled cry from one of the young ones followed.