“She went up the stairs,” Spencer pointed. “Save her.”
Zachary darted up the stairs to his office. The whole place was ready to explode and disintegrate. The spindles and railings rose in flames. He took off his bandana, placed it over the door handle. The damned thing was welded.
“Elizabeth,” he shouted above the din. No answer. Fear rattled up his spine.
He stepped back, leaped forward, initiating a full-on flying kick. The door splintered. He stepped through the debris, knelt by Elizabeth, placed two fingers on her neck Her pulse vibrated. She was alive. He shook her. “Elizabeth, wake up.” How in the hell would he carry an unconscious woman with one arm?
She stirred, coughing.
Smoke burned his nose and throat. “Can you walk?” She nodded. He handed her his bandana to tie around her mouth, yanked her up and pivoted to the door. Zachary stopped.
On the balcony, Dyer stood with a gun pointed straight at them. Then came the crackle of flame followed by a loudwoofsound as something exploded in fire. Zachary could not think of a more perfect background for Satan’s minion. “You won’t have her. She’s mine,” threatened Dyer.
He was lunatic. Zachary shoved her behind him. “I’m taking Elizabeth and we’re getting out of here.”
The platform shifted. Flames, crackled, licked the walls and ceiling. Dyer raised his gun higher, pointed it at Zachary’s heart. “I’ll kill you both.”
“Let us go,” cried Elizabeth coughing through a rise in smoke.
Sparks and embers rained down like winter snow. The fire danced and waved a wicked waltz. With his good arm, Zachary yanked a knife from his boot and threw. End over end it twirled hitting Dyer’s gun arm. He dropped his gun, clutched the knife where it lay buried in his bicep. Then came an awful roar from above. Cracking, splintering wood followed by a howl of wind.Part of the roof fell on Dyer. He pitched below. His screams lost in a fiery grave.
“Dear God,” whispered Elizabeth.
Zachary grabbed her. She stopped, jerked her hand from his and ran back into his office, emerged, grappling his designs.
He grabbed her hand, and they made their way down the stairwell just as the entire roof structure fell.
Outside, both breathed in drafts of fresh air. The tide of bucket men staring upwards, their eyes captivated and horrified by the brightness of the pyre that rose into the sky.
Zachary stomped out the blueprints. “You little fool. What made you risk your life to get these?” She was dirty, grimy, an odd spectacle in a singed wedding gown and blackened slippers, but she couldn’t be more beautiful to him.
“I had to get them so you could rebuild.”
Zachary’s chest expanded with the realization of what it meant: not the blueprints themselves, but her belief in him.
He tapped his head. “Oh, ye of little faith. I have a photographic memory. It’s all up here.”
“Oh.”
With his good arm, he pulled her tight. “I didn’t trust rich women, but you are different, Elizabeth. I had my blinders on and should have believed in you. Can you forgive me?”
“You know the answer.”
“I always want you by my side, Elizabeth. We’ll live in poverty for a while, but we’ll have Caroline and each other. I’ll work ten times harder. We will have the world before us.”
Fiona was shouting at O’Reilly for getting nicked in the head by a bullet. Her brother, Patrick ambled beside with a bullet lodged in his arm. “That is just a scratch. What about me?”
With her hands on her hips, Fiona yelled at her brother. “You were supposed to be protecting Daniel. That bullet of yours is a badge of honor. Bow to fate it didn’t hit you in other regions.”
Edward Spencer was laid out next to a carriage. Chen administered medicine to his burns and set his legs. Elizabeth knelt beside her father.
“Elizabeth, can you forgive me?”
“Were you a part of this?”
“No. That was Dyer’s doing. I received a message from him to come here. If I’d known what a monster the man was—what he’d done to you?—”
“I’m glad to find out you weren’t involved. I can forgive you, but the forgiveness does not erase the pain.” The scars of betrayal would last a long time.
