A Rake's Midnight Kiss (Sons of Sin 2)

Interesting but hardly cause for celebration. “I doubt it’s drinkable.”

Richard sprang to his feet and caught her hand. His smile was brilliant as he leaned forward to kiss her. “Perhaps not, but it must have fallen since the sixteenth century.”

The kiss, however brief, distracted her. His kisses always did. As her head cleared, realization struck and with it, a flare of hope. Could Sirius have saved them? Then grim reality tempered excitement. “It’s probably underground seepage. This doesn’t mean there’s a way out.”

“It doesn’t mean there isn’t. Haven’t you noticed how fresh the air is? This part of the crypt isn’t nearly as musty. There must be an opening.”

“We have to find out where he’s been.” She tugged the string from her unruly hair and passed it to Richard.

“If you lead us out, Sirius, you’ll dine on foie gras and pheasant for the rest of your life.” Richard tied the makeshift leash to Sirius’s collar. His tone became a command. “Home, Sirius. Take us home.”

The dog hesitated and Genevieve wondered whether they asked too much. Then with a yip, Sirius trotted down the corridor.

Richard wasn’t generally a praying man. His prayers at Eton had gone unanswered too often for him to retain much faith in the Almighty’s benevolence. But in Sirius’s wake, his head filled with half-coherent pleas for Genevieve’s safety.

The dog followed one long corridor, then another, then another. Richard soon lost track. They could travel in a circle. Who knew? At his side Genevieve remained quiet, the candle unwavering in her hand.

After what felt like forever, Genevieve tugged his arm. “Look at the candle, Richard.”

Peering ahead, working out the dog’s direction, he hadn’t noticed the light. The flame flickered wildly. To confirm what he saw, a breeze teased his bare chest. “Go on, Sirius.”

The dog broke into a lope, Richard chasing. Genevieve jogged after them. Soon dank and decay tainted the air. Even this bolstered optimism. If the crypt was sealed, nothing should grow.

His heart pounding, Richard extinguished the candle and realized that Genevieve stood in green-tinged shadow. Sirius barked and jerked the leash free. The dog bounded into a low tunnel and disappeared.

Shock held Richard motionless. The lure of escape was so sweet he hardly dared test it and prove himself mistaken.

“Richard—”

He gestured her to silence, superstitiously afraid of voicing his hopes. “Wait here.”

He dropped to his knees and crawled into the tiny space, more dog-than man-sized. The ground was sludgy with rotted vegetation. Gradually the tunnel narrowed, the walls cold and wet like clammy flesh. Fear constricting his gut, he closed his eyes and told himself he wasn’t trapped.

The tunnel compressed almost to impassibility. Damn it. Had he come so far only to fail? He faltered, panting. This was impossible.

Then the dread of Genevieve’s death overcame his instinctive aversion to such restricted space. Drawing a breath fetid with dead plants, he dug his hands deep into the mud. Ignoring his wound, he hauled himself forward in awkward lurches, forcing his way through the crumbling soil.

More prayers. That the tunnel didn’t collapse and smother him. That freedom waited at the end. Sirius barked ahead and the sound goaded him on, despite the slicing pain in his arm and the crushing pressure around him.

“Are you all right?” Genevieve called from the crypt, her voice echoing strangely.

“Nearly there,” he grunted. He hissed a curse as his hip slammed into a rock.

Dizzying relief flooded him when the tunnel started to widen. He took his first full breath in what felt like hours, although logic insisted it must only be minutes.

A thick wall of vegetation blocked his way. Roughly he shoved it aside, breaking and wrenching with shaking, filthy hands. Then without warning, the sinking sun blinded him.

He slumped over the lip of the tunnel, gasping with exhaustion. “I’m out.”

“Thank God,” she said from far away. “Shall I follow?”

He lay in a dip of land. All he could see was the blue bowl of sky, framed by greenery.

“Wait, I’ll come back. It’s a tight fit.” An understatement as his bruises, grazes and throbbing arm affirmed. Every cell revolted at returning, but he couldn’t let Genevieve struggle alone through that hellish passage.

He snatched one last look at the outside world. Then he gritted his teeth against the pain and crawled into the dark.

After his moments outside, the tunnel seemed grimmer than ever. He heaved himself through the mud for what felt like an eon until he saw Genevieve ahead as a dark shadow. “I’ll pull you.”