Just a Little Danger

by Merry Farmer

  “Gone,” Castleford said. “He saw the writing on the wall the moment my brother started raising questions. He’s probably halfway to South America by now.”

  Everett caught his breath, uncertain whether to rejoice at what felt very much like the beginning of the end for the kidnapping ring or to rage against the fact that Eastleigh had gotten away.

  “We have to destroy the evidence,” Castleford repeated. He turned to Everett. “Starting with him.”

  Everett weighed his options in an instant. He could run, but with a rack of hunting rifles less than ten feet away, he wouldn’t get far. He could lunge for one of the rifles, but if he killed one of the men glaring at him, the other would have a clear shot before he could reload.

  Chisolm thought faster than him, snatching a gun from the rack. “He’s of no more use to me anyhow,” he said, raising the rifle.

  “Stop,” Castleford said with eerie calm. Chisolm glared at him without lowering his rifle. “I agree, he needs to die, but why not have a little fun with it?”

  “Fun? Are you mad?” Chisolm looked as though he might turn his rifle on Castleford.

  Castleford stepped forward, grabbing Everett’s arm in an iron grip and yanking him to the side. “Why waste a bullet on a man so used to making dramatic entrances and exits when I have a starving lion just waiting for a tasty meal right over there?” He pointed across the lawn to the lion pit at the edge of the menagerie.

  “You really are mad,” Chisolm said, though he lowered his rifle and followed them.

  “You can’t possibly be serious,” Everett gasped, trying to tug out of Castleford’s grip and failing. “You truly intend to feed me to your pet lion?”

  “Why not?” Castleford shrugged. “I’ll be killing two birds with one stone, as it were. Leo still hasn’t been fed, after all. And I am quite certain your death will be highly entertaining for me. Consider it your final, glorious performance.”

  Everett laughed. The idea was that ludicrous.

  He laughed until Castleford dragged him right to the edge of the lion pit. Leo must have sensed his hunger was about to be satisfied. He paced restlessly around the bottom of the pit, looking hungrier than ever. When he roared, Everett’s knees threatened to give out.

  “In you go,” Castleford said, attempting to push him.

  Everett dug his feet in, resisting. He might be able to break free and run if he resisted hard enough.

  “Wait.” Chisolm stepped forward.

  For one, bizarre moment, Everett thought the man cared after all and would save him from a grizzly death.

  Instead, Chisolm reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small hunting knife. He moved to stand toe-to-toe with Everett, slashing him deeply across his cheek. Everett shouted in pain before he could stop himself.

  “There,” Chisolm said with a satisfied grin as blood spilled across Everett’s cheek and chin. “Good old Leo won’t be able to resist the scent of fresh blood. I’m looking forward to seeing Jewel’s pretty little face chewed off.”

  “Good idea,” Castleford said, as though the two were at a tea party and Chisolm had decided on current jam instead of marmalade. “Now that that’s done, in you go.”

  Castleford pushed hard. Everett was still shocked by the pain of being cut and the audacity of Chisolm’s grin. He didn’t resist fast enough, and with a sickening lurch, he toppled over the side of the pit, crashing to the ground and thumping his head against the concrete. The lion roared, and the world around him went black.

  Chapter 19

  Patrick was out of breath by the time he and Selby reached the house, but there wasn’t time for him to rest or recover.

  “We need to gather as much evidence as possible before Castleford or the others attempt to destroy it,” he told Selby, racing up the terrace steps to the front door.

  The door was locked tight. Patrick took it as an ominous sign. They were no longer working against enemies who didn’t know why they were there. That only meant that time was even more of the essence.

  “We can enter through the kitchen,” Selby said, grabbing Patrick’s sleeve for a moment before running down the terrace steps and heading for the side of the house. More smoke could be seen billowing from the chimneys, and perhaps some of the windows.

  They’d nearly reached the gravel path that led to a kitchen courtyard when the carriage they’d spotted being prepared earlier rolled out into their path. The driver hadn’t whipped the horses into anything resembling high speed yet, but when Patrick and Lord Selby dashed in front of it, he pulled up on the reins and shouted at the horses to stop.

  “What the devil is going on?” Lord Eastleigh called from inside the carriage. “We need to move!”

  Patrick leapt out of the way of the horses, but kept close to the carriage. Instinct and duty took over as he wrenched the carriage door open and reached in to grab Eastleigh by the front of his jacket. Eastleigh was surprised enough that he barely resisted as Patrick yanked him out of the carriage. He spilled to the gravel.

  “I’ll have your head for this,” Eastleigh growled. “Don’t you know who I am? I could have you dismissed from your position, financially ruined, even killed. I—”

  Patrick clenched his jaw as he pulled Eastleigh to his feet, then punched him so hard across the face that the man twisted in his grip, then fell, unconscious.

  “Good Lord.” Selby gaped at the fallen nobleman. “I’ve never seen anyone take a man down with a single blow like that in my life.”

  Any other day, Patrick might have considered gloating under the praise. Today, there wasn’t time. “Don’t take this man anywhere,” the told the driver of the carriage. “He will shortly be under arrest for kidnapping and child trafficking, and unless you want to be seen as an accomplice, you’ll make certain he stays right where he is.”

  The driver gaped down at the scene from his perch on the carriage. He nodded once, then sat heavily.

  Patrick pushed on, dashing into the kitchen courtyard and past a pair of startled maids into the house, Selby following. He thanked what little luck he had left that he’d been shown down to the servants’ hall earlier in the day and that he remembered the way to the stairs that took him and Selby up into the main part of the house. The fact that they only encountered a handful of Castleford’s servants felt like the very worst of signs.

  The scent of smoke met them as they hurried through the parlor that led to Castleford’s office. Dread pooled in Patrick’s stomach as they tore into the room only to find Castleford’s butler throwing as many papers and documents onto a fire in the grate as he could.

  “Stop what you’re doing,” Patrick warned him, sprinting forward as if to grab the documents the butler still held.

  The butler shouted in terror and reeled back, spilling papers everywhere. “I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t know what was going on until…I don’t know what’s going on.” The man scrambled for the door, fleeing the scene.

  “He tried to throw too many things on the fire at once,” Selby said, pulling smoldering paper out of the grate. “Thus the smoke.”

  It was true. In his haste to destroy his master’s evidence, the butler had smothered the fire. The smoke filling the room was enough to make Patrick cough, but ultimately it was a good sign. Also encouraging was the presence of the journal in which every kidnapped child’s name was recorded. It still lay open on the desktop. That told Patrick that the butler was either stupid or the papers he’d chosen to burn first were twice as damaging as the ledger itself.

  He started toward the desk, but a shout from the garden snagged his attention. It was a quick cry of pain and far enough from the house that it could easily have been ignored, but Patrick would have recognized Everett’s shout anywhere. He abandoned the idea of gathering Castleford’s papers and shot to the window.

  The office had a clear view of the abandoned menagerie. In its heyday, the window would have provided a perfect view of every one of the caged animals Castleford owned. Th
ere was something bone-chilling about the empty cages and overgrown paths between them now. The true horror of the site came from the way Castleford and Chisolm stood at the edge of the lion’s pit, gazing down at something of interest.

  “Everett,” Patrick gasped, guessing all too readily what had happened.

  His fears were confirmed by Castleford shouting into the pit. “Don’t just stand there, you stupid beast. That’s your supper.”

  Patrick didn’t hesitate. In spite of the fact that it was at least a ten-foot drop, he crawled out the open window, heart pounding in his ears. A fraction of a second too late, he remembered the spiked gratings that lay under each of the windows. It took quick thinking and more agility than he thought he had to place his feet in such a way that the sharp spikes didn’t impale him. He was forced to throw himself clumsily to one side, crashing into the grass with a thump that knocked the wind out of him.

  Jagged rocks were hidden under the grass. Patrick groaned in pain as he crawled to one side and dragged himself to his feet. He didn’t want to think about how many bruises he’d sustained or how many cuts his exposed skin had received. His suit was ripped in several places, and the pouch containing his desperately-needed supply of bread and sausage was torn to the point where the heel of bread peeked out. Irrational anxiety for that food momentarily eclipsed the rest of his emotions. He stood, hands shaking as he shoved the precious food back to where it would be secure.

  “What are you doing, man? Run!” Selby shouted from the window above him. “If Jewel is in that pit, he won’t last long against a hungry lion.”

  The thought of Everett yanked Patrick back into the present, setting his heart on fire. Everett was what mattered, not his stomach or his pride. He started forward, then turned to call to Selby, “Gather up all the evidence you can. Stop it from being destroyed. We need it.”

  He thought he saw Selby nod as he turned to rush forward, but there wasn’t time to check. All he could think about as he raced through the overgrown paths of the menagerie, body aching, one ankle in particular sore to the point of making him limp, was Everett. If Everett died, if he was harmed in any way, Patrick didn’t think he could live with himself.

  “Everett!” he shouted as he neared the edge of the pit.

  Castleford and Chisolm flinched in surprise, wheeling back from the edge of the pit.

  “What are you doing here?” Castleford asked, eyes wide.

  “I’m not staying here to find out,” Chisolm said. His face hardened, in spite of his eyes being glassy and his face splotched with color, like a man out for vengeance. He turned to Castleford. “If I were you, I’d run. All has been discovered.”

  Part of Patrick knew he should run after Chisolm as the man turned to flee. If anyone deserved to be brought to justice, it was Chisolm. The man had a thousand crimes to answer for and a thousand sins that he should be made to face. The same was likely true of Castleford, who glanced one last time into the lion’s pit, winced, then cursed under his breath and dashed toward the house. Both men were so close to being held accountable for their sins.

  One fierce roar from the lion in the pit below filled Patrick with a whole new kind of terror, forcing him to abandon the villains to give his everything to what truly mattered.

  “Everett!” he shouted, spinning toward the pit and sprinting to its edge.

  He let out a wordless cry of panic at the sight that met him. Everett lay in a huddled heap on the filthy floor of the pit. The lion paced only a few yards away, sniffing impatiently and dancing closer for a moment before pulling back. The beast was obviously starving, but distrusted the scent of a human in the pit with him. There was no telling how long the poor thing’s fear would gain the upper hand over its hunger, though.

  A sharp pain gnawed at Patrick’s heart. Fear and hunger. He knew both far too well. They had been his life, the same as they were likely all Leo had ever known. It wasn’t the poor creature’s fault that its life had been made miserable by a blackguard who kept it in a pit as a toy, just as it hadn’t mattered that the men who ran the orphanage that had felt more like a prison for him and too many others were motivated by money instead of compassion. What mattered was whether the hunger that would never go away made him live a half-life or whether it gave him the strength to put himself in someone else’s shoes.

  “Easy there,” he called down to the lion in as soothing a voice as he could. “I know you’re starving, but he’s not lunch.” Patrick sank to his knees, then slowly sat with his legs dangling into the pit. “Everett.” He needed to shake Everett out of whatever stupor he was in without aggravating Leo. “Everett, can you hear me?”

  Everett moved slowly, letting out a low groan. He rolled to his back, raising a hand to his head. Patrick tried not to gasp or make any sudden moves as he saw how caked with blood and filth Everett’s face was. A sharp line cut across his cheek, as though he’d been slashed, but the way he held his head told Patrick he’d hit it when he fell into the pit.

  He didn’t wait to see whether Everett would be able to stand or climb out of the pit on his own. As carefully as he could with his own body battered and bruised from his earlier fall, he slid down the side of the pit, landing not far from Everett’s side.

  Leo roared at the invasion of his prison. He continued to dance back and forth, as though trying to decide whether to flee or fight. There was no place for the poor creature to flee to, though, which meant it was only a matter of time before he pounced.

  “Easy, Leo, easy.” Patrick held out one hand to the lion while inching closer to Everett. “Everett, can you get up?”

  “I…I think so.” Everett’s voice was weak, and he squinted hard at the sunlight pouring into the pit. “My head.”

  “Just stand up, and I’ll help you out of the pit,” Patrick said, eyes still locked on Leo.

  Everett made a pained noise and tried to muscle himself to his feet. Patrick watched out of the corner of his eye as he got as far as flinging himself against the wall and using that as a support, all while continuing to hold his head. Blood seeped down his cheek from the cut on his face.

  Leo’s nostrils flared, and suddenly the lion had his full attention. Patrick could practically see the creature lick his lips. Leo’s gaze shifted between Everett and Patrick, as though he was desperate for a meal but knew Patrick stood in his way. Patrick took advantage of that, shifting to block Leo’s sight of Everett entirely.

  “Can you reach the top of the wall?” Patrick asked over his shoulder.

  Everett made a miserable sound, then answered, “No.”

  Patrick cursed under his breath. The pit had been built deep enough that Leo couldn’t escape, but that meant neither he nor Everett could escape either. Unless Patrick could give Everett enough of a boost to heave him over the edge. To do so would mean sacrificing himself, in all likelihood, but it was a risk he had no doubts at all about taking.

  “We’re going to have to move fast,” he told Everett over his shoulder, keeping eye-contact with Leo. “I’m going to boost you over the edge, then you need to go for help. Selby is in the house, and Cristofori went into Leeds to fetch the police.”

  “What are you talking about?” Everett groaned. He was directly behind Patrick and so completely out of view.

  “I’m going to turn around at the count of three. Step into my hands, and I’ll push you out of the pit.”

  “I’m not letting you—”

  “One. Two. Three.”

  Patrick whirled around, grasping his hands together and crouching beside Everett. Everett hesitated for only a moment, only as long as it took for Leo to let out a hungry roar. He grabbed Patrick’s neck with one hand and stepped into his locked hands.

  As hard as he could, Patrick hoisted Everett up. Whether it was the intensity of his fear for Everett or pure, brute strength, Everett sailed up, flying over the edge of the pit. For his part, Everett had enough strength to grab the lip of the pit and pull himself fully out. He hooked one leg around the top,
grunted with effort, then twisted to lay flat in the grass, still looking down at Patrick.

  “Give me your hand,” Everett called down, extending an arm.

  Patrick didn’t answer. Leo had had enough of humans for one day. He roared again, jerking toward Patrick, ready to take whatever meal he could get. Patrick backed against the wall, spreading his hands out against the sunbaked concrete.

  “Give me your hand,” Everett insisted a second time. “I’ll pull you up.”

  “It’s too much of a risk,” Patrick said. The second he turned his back on Leo, the lion would pounce. If Everett had hold of any part of him, he would be dragged back into the pit with no way to escape. Leo might not have been hungry enough to eat both of them, but he would certainly kill them both.

  “Now is not the time for you to be a hero, Patrick.” There was enough anger in Everett’s voice to send Patrick’s heart racing with love. Only a man in love would be angry at someone like him for sacrificing themselves.

  “Now is exactly the time for me to be a hero, dammit,” he called up to Everett. “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”

  “And you think I would be able to go on without you?” Everett asked, incredulous. “If you think that, you’re a fool.”

  “Everett, back away from the pit. Go help Selby,” Patrick warned him. “You don’t want to watch this.”

  “I love you, Goddammit,” Everett shouted. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, thumbing my nose at society and not caring a wit who knows what we are. I am not going to watch you be devoured by some demon when there’s even a chance that I can do something about it.”

  Patrick wasn’t certain whether it was Everett’s words themselves or the deep, all-consuming emotion that came with them. His heart seemed to swell to fill his entire chest. It filled more than that. It eclipsed every bit of need, every cold, hungry part of himself that had ever been. Everything would be all right if he and Everett were together until the end of their days. He would be damned if he let that end come immediately.