But I couldn’t do that. Not if I wanted to live. Not if I wanted to save Finn and Fletcher. I had to save them. Otherwise, all of this would have been for nothing.
So I thought of the old man and all the lessons that he’d tried to teach me over the years about being calm, focused, patient. I closed my eyes and made my limbs go absolutely slack and still, and I let the cold chill from Cesar’s body sink even deeper into my own, even though I wanted nothing more than to get away from him. Then I listened to the stone, and I let all of its murmurs fill my mind, blotting out everything else—murmurs of death, despair, destruction. I listened to them, and I embraced them, until I almost felt as if I were one with the stone, just another broken piece of rock in agony over the horrors that had been visited upon it.
In a way, I supposed that’s exactly what I was.
For a long time, that was all I heard, and that was all I felt. But then that dark, evil presence rippled through the shattered marble a third time, and I felt Sebastian’s magic brush up against mine, like black vines of kudzu winding through everything, poisoning, strangling everything they touched. I held back a shudder and concentrated harder on the stone, willing it to see me as just another piece of itself—small, broken, and unremarkable.
I don’t know how long I lay there, but the black vines of Sebastian’s magic slowly slithered away, and I felt his presence withdraw from the stone.
For a long time, there was silence. Then—
“She’s dead,” Sebastian said, his voice muffled by the splintered stone that stood between him and me. “You can put your gun down now, Porter.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. There’s no sense of life inside the stone.”
“I don’t know,” the giant rumbled back. “She might have found a place to hide in there. From what I’ve seen so far, she’s a tough little bitch.”
“Well, she might have been a good assassin, but even if she were still alive, I just dropped a couple of tons of rock on top of her,” Sebastian drawled. “Trust me, Porter, there’s no way she’s crawling out from underneath all of that. But if it makes you feel better, we’ll drag her body out of there when we start clearing away the rubble in a few days.”
They debated some more, but in the end, they both seemed satisfied that I was as dead as Cesar.
“But what about the mausoleum?” Porter asked. “What are you going to tell people when they ask what happened to it?”
“I’ll tell them that I decided to tear it down and build a larger and much more fitting monument to my father,” Sebastian said. “I always hated that thing, anyway. Now, come on. Call your men. I want two teams, three men each, sent out, one to deal with the old man and the other to handle Gin’s brother, just like you planned.”
“Consider it done,” Porter said.
“Good,” Sebastian replied. “Then let’s go have a celebratory drink now that we’re almost finished with this whole mess.”
The two men started talking again, their voices becoming even more distant before fading away altogether. They must have headed back toward the mansion.
Sebastian thought that I was dead and that he’d finally won. Now he was going to send Porter’s men after Finn and Fletcher. Not if I could help it.
The bastard had already played me for a fool. He wasn’t taking away my family too—the people who truly cared about me.
So I drew in a breath and started to dig my way out of my tomb.
For once, I’d gotten lucky, and the rocks piled on top of Cesar were small chunks of what had been the ceiling, so I was able to shove them out of my way and wiggle out from underneath the lid of the tomb. But then my luck ran out, and I was stuck. I peered into the gloom, but the moonlight slipping in through the cracks in the stones made everything a dull shade of gray.
The mausoleum had collapsed in on itself, as Sebastian had intended, but the columns had crisscrossed one another, forming a sort of support that had kept the ceiling from completely flattening everything inside, including me. Now the columns resembled spikes lining the inside of a coffin—my coffin, if I didn’t find a way to get out of here.
Slowly, very, very slowly, I began to move forward.
The mausoleum hadn’t been all that large, maybe fifty feet wide, but it might as well have been a mile. I felt like a worm trying to work my way through a jigsaw puzzle, one with jagged edges that sliced into my body with every move I made. I would slither forward a few feet, only to come up against a piece of marble that was too large for me to crawl around or under. So I’d have to backtrack and try to find another way through the maze of stone.
The good thing about being trapped inside for so long was that it gave my body time to flush the last of the drugged champagne out of my system. I might be buried under a couple of tons of rock, but I finally felt like myself again—especially when it came to my rage.
It burned inside me, as black as Sebastian’s magic, keeping perfect time to the slow, steady beat of my heart. Revenge, revenge, revenge . . . that was the thing that kept me going, that kept me moving, that kept me crawling through the broken stone, even though all I wanted to do was slump over and stop. But I kept crawling, kept fighting, driven by my need for revenge against Sebastian for everything that he’d done to Cesar, Charlotte, and me and what he had in store for Finn and Fletcher.
Finally, I neared the edge of the mausoleum, only to find my path blocked by a large chunk of stone. It was about the size of a kitchen table, much too big and heavy for me to shove out of the way. It was the only thing standing between me and escape, and I was going to have to use my magic to blast it out of the way if I had any hope of warning Finn and Fletcher in time.
I paused again, listening, but I didn’t hear anything other than the still-wailing marble and the soft sounds of the night beyond the ring of stone. Sebastian was nowhere in the area. Even if he was back in the mansion, he might still be able to sense me using my magic, given how strong he was in his own power, but it was a risk that I had to take.
So I held my hand out in front of me, flattening it on the stone. Then I reached for my magic, just a trickle, just enough to let me connect with the marble boulder in front of me. I sent my magic deeper and deeper into the stone, looking for any cracks that I could pour my power into. Then, when I found the stone’s weak spots, I exploited them, just as Sebastian had exploited my weaknesses—weaknesses I hadn’t even realized that I’d had.