No Earls Allowed (The Survivors #2)(95)

“You came back?” she asked, looking at him as though he were a ghost.

“I should never have left.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, thanking God he’d been in time. He would never let her go again. “You were right,” he said stroking her back.

“I know,” she answered, her arms coming up to embrace him. “But what specifically are you referring to?”

He smiled. The orphanage was burning all around them, their only escape cut off, and the man who wanted them both dead lay just a few feet away. Still, she could make him smile. “We are stronger together,” he said.

She drew back. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You did. And now we’d better use that combined strength to get out of here.”

“Charlie—”

“Is safe outside.” He hoped. But when she started for the door to the dormitory, he grabbed her hand. “Not that way. It’s cut off. Charlie made it through, but we won’t.”

“Then how?” she asked.

Neil pulled her to the window. “There’s one latch I fixed three times but mysteriously kept breaking.” He pushed on the window latch, and it gave easily. Obviously, the boys had intentionally broken it so they could sneak out of the dormitory without Julia knowing. Neil lifted the window. The escape route the boys had taken was plain to see. A decorative ledge, one of the remnants of the building’s finer days, wrapped around the outside of the structure just a few feet below the window. Any of the older boys would have been tall enough to climb out of the window backward and rest his feet on the ledge. From there, he only had to walk around the side of the building to the edge where an old drainpipe ran from the roof to the ground. A nimble boy could shimmy down with little trouble. Neil was not so certain Juliana could manage it. And even after he explained the plan, she looked a bit worried.

He glanced back at Slag. The man had risen to his knees and appeared to be gathering the last of his strength. There was no time for doubt.

“Juliana, there’s no other way,” he said.

“I can make it,” she said sounding far more confident than she looked. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You’ll have to do it all carrying the rat cage.” She pointed to the cage sill sitting in the middle of the floor. Neil wanted to say hell no. Those rats had been the bane of his existence since the first day he’d met her. But he also knew she wouldn’t leave them behind. She would have made a good soldier, if her superior officer didn’t order her hung for insubordination.

Neil knew he couldn’t manage the ledge or the drainpipe with the cage, but he could do it with the rats in his pockets. He shuddered, realizing he’d have to touch the creatures again, but he gritted his teeth. This was for Juliana.

She glanced up at him. “Stronger together, right?”

“Right.” And he had no time to argue as to which situations that phrase applied to. Slag had begun to crawl toward them—or perhaps he was crawling away from the fire. It had engulfed the doorway now and enveloped the bed closest to the door.

Keeping an eye on Slag, Neil bent, opened the enclosure, and gathered the trembling rats into his hands. One bit him, of course, but he just swore and tucked the little bastard into his pocket. When he had all three, he raced back to Juliana. “Go.”

She threw one leg over the ledge, but before she could climb out, he grasped the back of her neck and kissed her. “I love you,” he said.

“I didn’t hear that,” she said. “You’ll have to tell me again when we’re on the ground.” And she slid out of the window, her feet dangling in the air for a long moment before they landed on the ledge. With a wobbly smile for him, she slid away from the window, her sooty fingers clamped tight on the wall of the orphanage. When she was close to the drainpipe, Neil followed her out. He’d never liked heights—a fact about himself he’d learned on a mission for Draven—and he didn’t look down. Instead, he scooted one foot and then the other, his progress a bit shakier than Juliana’s, as his feet were wider than the ledge. At one point, he almost lost his balance, and he pinwheeled his arms. When he didn’t fall, he rested his cheek against the building’s wall and stifled the urge to whimper. Opening his eyes, he saw Juliana descending the drainpipe. Her progress wasn’t smooth or graceful, but when she landed on the ground with a thud, she stood and gave him a wave.

“Stronger together,” Neil muttered to himself, ignoring the feel of the squirming rats inside his clothing. He slid closer to the drainpipe. That was when the first object almost hit him. Neil hadn’t seen it coming or he might have tried to avoid it and fallen. When it soared past him, narrowly missing him, he’d looked back at the window. Slag stood there with a wooden toy in his hand. Neil didn’t waste time, moving even more quickly toward the drainpipe. Slag threw the toy and it bounced off the building where Neil’s head had been a moment before. Slag lifted another toy, but he would have to lean out farther to hit Neil. Neil felt a surge of relief until Slag leaned farther out the window—a bit too far.

Neil saw the horrid loom of realization on the crime lord’s face. The streak of black was gone in a moment, barely enough time for Neil to call out, “Don’t look!” to Juliana.

The thud was soft, like a boot sinking into mud.