Treasure Me

by Robyn DeHart

  At first, Vanessa expected the tunnel to be part of an abandoned or unfinished section of the underground railway. But she saw no tracks. Once The Raven descended the stairs, he pulled the stone above them back into place, shrouding them in darkness. A match was struck, the flame flickering to life, and The Raven lit a candle.

  He retrieved two lanterns from behind the stairs and lit those as well, handing one to each of them. Now, with light, Vanessa could see this was nothing like the underground, where the tunnels were nicely sculpted. This area was crude, carved out probably hundreds of years ago.

  Cold and damp, the tunnel immediately reminded her of the caves where she and Graeme had spent so much time in Loch Ness. She hoped that she hadn’t seen him for the last time. The thought of never again seeing her husband, never feeling his lips brush hers or his hand stroke her hair, nearly stole her breath. It was as if someone had reached in and squeezed her heart. No, she steeled herself against such thoughts. She would get out of this alive, and she’d save Dougal while she was at it.

  She knew in that moment she’d trade everything to be back in Graeme’s arms. Yes, she enjoyed her research, but if given the choice, she’d choose him. Because damn it all if she hadn’t fallen in love with her husband. Tears pricked her eyes as the realization flooded her. She had to escape because she had to tell him.

  “This leads to Westminster?” she asked. When The Raven didn’t answer, she went on. “And this is how you got in and stole the counterfeit Stone of Destiny.”

  “Precisely. You are a clever girl, aren’t you?” he said drolly.

  Water from the rains yesterday must have leaked below and created a tiny stream flowing inside the tunnel. Her slippers were soaked before they’d walked through the second carved archway.

  The three of them walked in silence for several moments, turning twice. Vanessa tried to memorize the route, but the tunnel had several turn-offs, and she wasn’t certain whether she’d be able to remember the proper directions. She doubted if she and Dougal could escape, run back the way they’d come, and get to the street before The Raven could reach them. They’d have to disable him in some capacity.

  As they walked, Vanessa searched for some sort of weapon—a large rock to hit him on the head or a sharp stick to jab him with. Anything that could be of use. Only rats and the small trail of water occupied the space with them. The foul smell of human waste assaulted her senses, and she winced. The sooner they were out of this damned tunnel, the better. Once they were in Westminster, they could escape or signal for help.

  Finally they came to another staircase, and again The Raven sent Dougal first. “Shift that statue of the angel, and it will open the secret chamber,” The Raven said. “Make any foolish moves and I’ll kill her. I suspect you’re like your brother and share his ridiculous propensity for rescuing hapless females, which means you won’t raise a hand against me as long as she’s here. But in case that isn’t enough motivation, remember that if you try any foolish heroics, not only will you and the girl die, but when I find your brother, I’ll kill him too.”

  Dougal nodded, then did as instructed. Once he’d shoved the stone out of the way, he climbed up the staircase and disappeared above them.

  Vanessa followed Dougal up, and The Raven followed close behind. Once they were all in the small chamber, he shifted the statue back into place.

  “We’re in Westminster,” Vanessa said, looking up. She knew the stonework of the abbey, having been here on many occasions, although she’d never seen this particular room. It looked to be a room where the choir might gather.

  He led them through several other rooms until at last they stopped in one. He closed the door behind them. Vanessa watched The Raven move and stand near a door on the opposite wall. He leaned close to listen.

  “Her Majesty will be right on the other side of this door,” he said, “once the service concludes. Set the jewels over there.” He motioned to a table.

  Vanessa did as instructed and placed the gems down next to the Stone of Destiny. Dougal huddled close behind Vanessa, right on her heels like a beaten puppy seeking comfort. He looked dazed, his gaze unfocused. His hands had started to tremble. He had never seemed more like a child. Clearly he was very afraid, and if he didn’t get his fear under control, it just might get them both killed.

  Vanessa turned to him and grasped both of his hands in her own, giving him something solid to focus on. “Dougal, it’ll be all right. I promise.”

  Finally his gaze met hers for an instant before darting to The Raven, who’d extracted a fiendish-looking knife and was scraping the pad of his thumb against it as if testing the blade.

  Dougal shook his head. “No. It won’t be fine. He’s going to murder the queen, and I’ve helped him do it. I’ve helped kill the queen. And I shot you. I can’t believe I shot you.”

  “Nonsense, you have not helped kill the queen,” she said sternly, keeping her eyes on Dougal, willing her strength to him. “You are just a boy. You are not responsible for any of this. Besides, he is merely one man and not all powerful. He cannot possibly know where the queen is at any given moment. He may know that she’s in Westminster Abbey today for the funeral. He may hope that her guards lead her in this direction. But he has no way of knowing where she is. She’s just as likely to be on the other side of the building smelling roses in the garden. And as for me, I’m healthier than ever, and I know you didn’t mean it.”

  Finally, Dougal nodded his understanding. But hers was a brief victory. She’d been so focused on calming down Dougal, she’d forgotten that The Raven could hear every word she said.

  Nearly forgotten, that is, until he threw back his head and laughed. Vanessa glared at him, her anger overcoming her fear momentarily.

  The Raven’s chest shook with his mirth until slowly his laughter died down. “Oh, what kind of foolish amateur do you take me for?” He paced toward her, stopping mere feet away. “Do you really think I would go to all this trouble without first doing my research? Do you really think I would plot and connive for months, that I would kidnap an innocent family, that I would steal from a fellow adventurer, that I would bother to manipulate this mindless dolt”—he gestured toward Dougal—“that I would murder, and then I would waste all of my efforts on an attempt to assassinate the queen if I wasn’t absolutely positive I was going to succeed?”

  His eyes were lit with a fanatical gleam, his mouth foaming with spittle as he spoke. In that instant, she knew the truth. He was mad, and he would do anything in his power to carry out his plan.

  Still Vanessa shook her head. “No. You can’t possibly know wh—”

  “Of course I can,” he interrupted her. “Everyone has his price. Dougal here could be had for a few pandering compliments and a sympathetic ear. Niall could be had for the infinitesimal hope that his family might one day be safely returned.” The Raven swung toward the door and gestured broadly. “And one of Her Majesty’s most loyal guards had a price as well.”

  He shrugged as if beset by modesty. “Of course it took time to find the right guard to blackmail. Many train trips back and forth between London and Scotland so I could keep an eye on Niall, visit with young Dougal, and ferret out the information I needed. But in the end, I discovered that one Samuel Bennet has a very embarrassing predilection.”

  Again The Raven laughed. “Imagine. Being willing to betray the queen merely because you’re too embarrassed to admit you’re overly fond of young boys. Of course, Dougal, you were willing to betray your queen and your family out of sheer spite. I suppose that is worse.”

  Dougal lunged at him, indignation radiating from his straining muscles. If she hadn’t already held his hands, she never would have stopped him.

  “Dougal, no. He’ll kill you.”

  “Of course I’ll kill him.” The Raven closed the distance between them and ran the flat side of the knife down her cheek to press it against her jaw. “Don’t sound so desperate. I already have one undeserving and interfering woman to deal wi
th before I deal with you. And I hear Her Majesty does not like to be kept waiting.” He flicked the blade against the skin of her neck casually so that it barely scraped her, but burned fiercely.

  “But you know, Vanessa, I just might let you live. How exactly do you imagine Graeme will feel about you once he realizes you allowed me to kill both the queen and his brother? Duty-bound, honorable Graeme married forever to a woman he can’t stand. I like the idea of that. That’s assuming, of course, that I let you both live. He’s coming here, you know, your husband. I sent him a note. Exchanging you for that stone.”

  In that instant, she’d never hated anyone more. She, who’d always thought of herself as logical and reasonable. As a woman of intellect, she hated this man so fiercely that she wanted to kill him herself. In that moment she even believed that her hatred might allow her to overcome his superior strength.

  Vanessa lunged at The Raven, but Dougal must have read the intention in her gaze, and he was ready. Dougal jumped in front of her, pushing her aside so that she fell to the ground as he stumbled into The Raven. The knife grazed Dougal’s arm.

  The Raven slammed the butt of his pistol down on Dougal’s head so hard that the boy slumped to the ground. Blood oozed from the wound, dripping down his temple and onto his cheek.

  “Sorry, Vanessa,” Dougal gasped, his voice weak. “I couldn’t let you get yourself killed. Graeme would never have forgiven me.”

  She dropped to his side as his eyes rolled back, and her fingers went to his throat, seeking his pulse. It was there—weak, but there. He was still alive. For now.

  The Raven bent in front of her, holding the knife. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to slice her the way he’d done to Fitch, but instead she heard the fabric from her skirt tear. He cut two large swaths, then stood to face her. He tucked the knife into his belt.

  “You are a pain in my arse,” he said. With that he grabbed her by the hair and looped one of the strips of fabric around her head and tied it at her mouth, preventing her from speaking. “Had I not been so pressed for time, I would have tied you up at my house.” The other strip he used to bind her wrists. “Now you can shut your mouth and leave me to do my work,” The Raven said.

  The music on the other side of the door had had stopped, indicating the end of the processional and the conclusion of the funeral. Men’s voices came from the other chamber, more than likely those of the queen’s guards as they ushered her into the room. Vanessa knew the protocol of such funerals, as they were often detailed in The Times. They would keep the queen there until the remainder of the audience left. She would meet with the family of the deceased and then be taken back to Buckingham Palace. It was during this interim that The Raven planned to make his move. Right now there were too many guards on alert, but once the visitors left, things would quiet down.

  Vanessa wanted nothing more than to shout a warning to Her Majesty, but the gag around her mouth prevented her. She tried to scream past the fabric in her mouth, but it came out as an anguished moan. This was enough to garner a glare from The Raven.

  “Do not make me regret keeping you alive this long.”

  His threat was enough to stifle further attempts. Even breathing was challenging, and saliva was beginning to pool in her mouth, making it difficult to swallow.

  There had to be a way out of all of this. While The Raven focused upon the door, Vanessa took advantage of his inattention. She stuck her hands into her bag and searched around, but felt nothing useful until her fingers brushed leather at the very bottom. Her tools. She’d never removed them from her bag when they’d gone to the abbey in the hills. Perfect. Quickly she untied the roll and gently felt around for something that could be used as a weapon. They had to get out of here. The queen’s guards would protect her, but Vanessa and Dougal were on their own.

  She came upon the cleaning pick, a small object with a long, sharp tip. She pulled it out. She tucked it into the folds of her skirt and contemplated her next move. Dougal was still unconscious, but would hopefully awaken soon. She couldn’t see him very clearly in the dim room, but it looked like the bleeding might have stopped. Although she hated to leave him in the hands of The Raven, she might not have another choice. And if it meant that she could go and find help, she would do it.

  Her hands might be bound, but her feet were still free. She made her way over to where The Raven pressed his ear against the door and jumped onto his back while wrapping her bound hands over his neck. She pulled, stretching the fabric at her wrists against his throat and trying to wrap her legs around his waist to pull him away from the door.

  “Stupid bitch,” he spat. He bucked, but she held tight, the fabric pulling at his throat. He reached up and untied her hands, releasing the pressure that she’d applied. Now he was able to easily swing her off his back. He tossed her against a concrete tomb, and suddenly he was at her side. He wrapped his hands around her throat.

  Vanessa fought for air. Her lungs tightened and burned, and she tried in vain to kick at him.

  Dougal stirred but had not come to his feet.

  She scratched at The Raven’s face, her sharp fingernails leaving thin lines of blood in their wake. She reached into the folds of her bodice and grabbed for her tiny weapon. Without another thought, she plunged it into The Raven’s neck. Blood shot out around the wound, and he staggered away from her. She gasped for breath and moved toward Dougal.

  “Dougal,” she said. “We’ve got to go. Get up.”

  He roused immediately.

  The Raven held his hand to the neck wound to stanch the bleeding, all the while glaring at them. “This isn’t over,” he snarled.

  But Vanessa and Dougal ran from the chamber.

  The Raven didn’t have time to waste with those two idiots. He reached up and pulled the offensive thing out of his neck. He might continue to bleed for a while, but he knew he was in no mortal danger. Although the injury hurt like a son of a bitch, he felt as clear and sharp as ever. His lucidness meant it was unlikely that Vanessa had hit a major artery, but warm blood oozed down his neck, across his clavicle, and down his sternum.

  Little bitch.

  But he had more important women to deal with. He could see Queen Victoria through a crack in the door. Dressed in mourning black with a small plumed hat, she was older now, her skin wrinkled with age. But he had no qualms about killing a defenseless elderly woman; she was the queen.

  Without further ado, he kicked open the door. Her Majesty was within reach, so he immediately grabbed her and pulled her close to him. His own blood dripped onto her flesh. Perhaps it would soon mingle with her own. He held his knife up to Victoria’s neck. The pistol he held out in front to ward off the guards.

  “Don’t come closer or I will kill her,” he warned.

  The three guards eyed one another, then looked back at him as if waiting for someone to give them guidance. Fools.

  “Listen to him,” the queen said sternly. Her eyes darted to the side to glance at him. “Why don’t you tell us what you want?” She lowered her voice as she spoke to The Raven.

  “What I want.” he chuckled. “Where do I even begin? I want the throne. Let’s leave it at that for simplicity’s sake.”

  The guards collectively grumbled and moved a few steps toward him.

  “I said stay back!” The Raven yelled. He knew what would happen if he did kill her now. They’d open fire on him and riddle his body with bullet holes. No, he had one more step to complete, and then he needed to get her out of here. Away with him until he could put the Kingmaker together. Then he would watch her die a slow death.

  “Now. One at a time, I want you to turn and leave the room.” When they made no move to leave, he ran the blade across the queen’s delicate skin, slicing her. Blood trickled down her throat.

  “Do as he commands,” she said. Her voice betrayed no fear. She spoke with ultimate authority, and part of The Raven respected her for that. ’Twas a pity she’d have to die.

  The guards did as he said, t
urning and evacuating the room, one at a time. Until finally he was left alone with the monarch.

  “I’ve waited for this moment for so long,” The Raven said.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The guards scrambled, still trying to decide what to do next when Graeme and the others arrived. Graeme did not bother to explain anything and instead simply ran past them into the room where he knew The Raven held the queen. The bastard had a bloody blade against the queen’s neck, and a thin cut slashed down from her ear to her neck. Blood trickled from the wound.

  Graeme saw no fear in Her Majesty’s eyes. This was not the first threat that she’d endured. But her pulse beat rapidly beneath her pale skin.

  “Let her go. You know you can’t get out of here alive if you harm her,” Graeme said.

  “The hell I can’t. When I leave this building, she will no longer be the ruler. I will. You know what I want,” The Raven said. “Give me the last stone and I’ll let her go.”

  “That’s not a bargain I can make, and you know that,” Graeme said.

  The men of Solomon’s stood behind him. Graeme could feel their presence and knew they would not only protect him, but protect his wife and brother as well. Currently Max was searching Westminster to find them.

  Graeme knew Vanessa had been with The Raven; he’d found her fossil at The Raven’s house. Now he desperately wanted to know that she was safe and unharmed, but he dared not ask. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness with The Raven when the queen’s life was in jeopardy.

  “I see you brought your own army,” The Raven spat. “Where is Fielding, I wonder?”