Chapter 20

As soon as Nico closed the lid over the hidden compartment, the merciless darkness I had known for months returned like a bad dream—one I'd slept through on a hundred nights. It resumed with a vengeance, every bit as suffocating and restrictive. Yet this time, overwhelmingly isolating.

It felt as if all the air in the compartment slipped away. Like I had lain here for hours. The cold metal of the gun lost its sting, warmed by my body heat. A single hole was drilled through the rug and the wood, so that if I shifted my head, I could find a hint of fresh air or a slab of light.

My brothers bickered amongst themselves. Even with their voices unclear through the floor, I still tried to focus on their conversation to distract myself from my breath against the top of the compartment.

Something fell, hitting the floor hard. Their voices went quiet, and the silence exacerbated the anxious skip of my heart. Too much time had passed, too much time to give trouble an opportunity. Power seeped into my veins, priming my hands in case I needed to break out. I peered through the hole where shadows stretched between the gas lamps.

Another voice joined the murmurs, though this one was different. Much deeper than either of my brothers'. Had a cousin come to help—Adler perhaps? He spoke in a similar timbre, possibly to compensate for being the youngest.

But another thud pulsed through the floor. No guns went off, but a scent tainted the little breath of air I could suck through the hole. A putrid smell.

It made the magic in my bones go quiet immediately.

Panic sank in, and it rose like a tide until I drowned, trapped beneath the swells of my rising distress with only a small hole as a lifeline. Then something slid over the peep hole briefly, and the rug was torn from its place on the floor.

This wasn't right. The mechanism Nico used to seal the lid was tinkered with. My thumb rolled back the safety on the pistol. Someone had found my hiding place.

A door opened and slammed, shots were fired, and a third weight slammed into the floor. Warmth dripped on my leg, soaking through the material of my pants until it clung to my skin. I hardly breathed as footsteps slowly traveled the length of the car, pausing for a beat before shutting the opposite door they came through.

I waited... and waited, but not a sound stirred in my family's suite. Wetness spread up my calf, drenching the left leg of my pants. What if Aramis bled out on top of me? Jeremiah? One of the Attanos?

The edges of the bunker closed in. Soon the narrow gap over my face wasn't enough, the race between my breath and my pulse outmatched anything else. I knocked tentatively on the lid, unable to handle it any longer.

"Hello?"

No answer. Not even the faintest shudder in the floor. I was alone—and trapped. Just like before. I was back in Hightower, where no one was coming for me.

My mind unraveled from there.

"Let me out!" I beat my palms against the lid to be heard by anyone nearby. But no one came, even after I shouted again and again, slapped the metal lining of the lid until my palms stung.

"Milla!" My name was a command, loud enough to cut through the layers between us—but not my nerves.

"Let me out!"

The resistance against my hands finally disappeared, and Nico pulled me out by my thrashing arms.

"It's alright, Milla," he said in an even voice. Slowly, as if taming the fight in my body with an invisible rope, his words reined me back.

I quickly scanned the room and found the evidence of all the noise: a bleeding watchman. My brothers were slumped on opposite ends of the car. It only numbered my questions. "Are they?"

"Just knocked out," he said.

I settled some. The shake of my nerves stilled until I could hold Nico's hand steady. He stroked my wrist with a thumb; his false hand hung limp at his side.

"What happened? Did they leave?"

He nodded. "Regulus pulled one of his shifting tricks and pretended to be you, so they'd leave us all alone."

"But that would mean—"

"He knew, Milla. He knows what will happen to him."

This car was cursed. It seemed every time I stepped on this train, someone died in my place. My grip tightened around my upper arm, pinching it until the tangible pain distracted from some of the hurt in my chest. "Why would he do that? He doesn't even know me."

"With all respect, princess, I don't think he did it for you," Nico said. Any explanation died on his tongue as Luther approached us.

"Boss, I don't mean to interrupt, but we need to get the hells out of here."

"We'll get the haelen in here to look at the Marcheses," Nico barked back. "Even without her remnant, she might help rouse them."

He stood then, letting my hand slip from his own, and checked the cylinder of his revolver.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Going to have a little chat with our engineer, and make sure there's no further delays." He jerked his chin at his cousin. "Stay with Milla until I get back."

Glancing once more at my brothers still knocked out on the floor, he scowled and turned toward the gangway connection leading toward the engine.

"He's upset," I observed out loud. Looking at Luther, I asked, "Did something happen in the other cars with the descendants?"

Luther helped me up and into a chair and cleaned up the area, focusing first on the dead watchman. He sighed, taking in the size of him. "Unfortunately, boss, there were only a handful of people who knew we'd be taking the train back to Lynchaven with the rescued prisoners. All of whom Nico trusted. Most of whom are along for the ride. There wouldn't have been time for the Society goons at the island to drive home and organize this attack."

"It was planned from the beginning, then," I said.

He nodded, looking at me then with a grim expression. "Someone on this train is a snitch." His wayward glance at my brothers sunk a stone in my stomach. "And Nico is going to figure out who, sooner or later."