Captive of Sin

The men on the ground grunted and gasped and wrestled for dominance. They writhed across the rough floor. Felix flung out one leg and sent a tin kettle rattling against the rocks. The sharp metallic clatter made Charis jump. She raised one shaking hand to her mouth to hold back a scream.

The bone handle of the little knife she clutched in her other hand was slippery with sweat. If only she saw a chance to intervene. But all she could do was stand in agonized suspense on the conflict’s edge.

Felix rolled on top of Gideon and clawed at his throat. For an endless moment, time hung suspended. Then Gideon twisted with what seemed impossible strength and dislodged his attacker.

The battle continued. Charis’s hand dropped from her face to twine with painful tightness in her skirts. More thumps. More hoarse grunts and gasps. With a shuddering groan, Gideon jerked onto his knees, straddling Felix and gripping his neck.

“Die, you bastard!” Felix forced out. He flung Gideon away to land with a sharp crack of bone on rock. Charis bit back another cry. Every muscle tensed to excruciating pain as she waited for Felix to surge up and land the decisive blow. But instead he lay winded and unmoving a few feet away.

“For God’s sake, help Gideon,” she begged Akash in a strained whisper as he returned to her side.

“He’s better on his own,” Akash said softly.

It seemed hours before Gideon stirred even though she knew it must only be a fraction of a second. As he sat up, he shook his head to clear his vision. He staggered upright at the same time as Felix found his feet.

Exhaustion and pain took their toll. Both men panted in jagged gasps as they circled one another, their fists upraised. Felix’s left eye swelled, and his mouth was broken and bloody. Charis noticed that her stepbrother’s gait was uneven, and he favored his left leg.

She drew another shuddering breath and stared at Gideon. He looked dirty and disheveled and bruised but otherwise blessedly whole, and his eyes were bright and alert. They focused on Felix with a glint of triumph. There had been some shift in the battle, and it had been in Gideon’s favor.

“Give it up, Farrell. There’s nowhere to go.” He sounded calm, confident, like the man who had saved her life. He flexed his gloved hands and rolled his shoulders.

“I’ll get out of this, Trevithick.” Felix stumbled on the rough ground but didn’t fall. “Damn well see if I don’t.”

Charis watched as he staggered farther into the tunnel. His eyes remained fixed on Gideon, who took a step after him.

“You won’t escape that way, man. Didn’t you explore your hideaway? The mine peters out in the hillside.”

“Felix, he grew up here,” Charis called, desperate to bring this ghastly scene to an end. “He knows every inch of the estate. You’re trapped.”

“Shut up, you little bitch.” Felix sounded savage, furious, as he backed away on faltering feet. His voice resonated oddly as the tunnel narrowed. “We’ll see who’s trapped.”

“Be careful. There’s a mineshaft behind you.” Gideon set out after him, his booted heels thudding sharply on the hard dirt floor. Charis broke away from Akash and followed, gripping her knife. She still didn’t trust her stepbrother even though she could tell he had reached the end of his strength.

“Resorting to childish tricks now, Trevithick?” Felix’s grating laugh sent a shiver down her spine. He retreated more quickly from the light.

“Take a look if you don’t believe me.” Gideon’s voice roughened with urgency. “For God’s sake, man, listen to me! Look behind!”

“And take my eyes off you? You must think I’m a damned half-wit.”

“Farrell…”

Felix kept up his odd crablike shuffle, then suddenly tottered. His arms windmilled as he fought for balance. It was tragically clear Gideon’s warning was sincere. Charis’s stomach lurched with horror.

Gideon leaped forward. But even fast as he was, he was too late and too far away.

With a high-pitched scream of fury, Felix lost his footing and tumbled over the edge.

Twenty-four

There was a sickening, distant thud, then silence descended like an ax.

Shocked, unable to credit what had happened, Gideon stood on the edge of the shaft. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness. It went down too far.

“Farrell?” he called. During his childhood, a miner had fallen down the shaft and died. It was one of the reasons the workings were abandoned.

He called again, recognizing the act as futile.

He’d despised Felix, wanted to make him pay in blood and suffering for hurting Charis. But all the same, this was a sorry end for anyone, even the most despicable cur.