"It's too small for both of us."
"You go down," he says. "I'll draw them to the library."
"No! We stay together!"
"Elodie, listen to me. Vane is bleeding. He will be slow. The guards are the threat. I will flank them. You go to the cellar. Get the fuse for the generator. If we need light, we need it onourterms."
"Alaric..."
He kisses me. Hard. Quick. "Go. Trust the duet."
I climb into the dumbwaiter. It smells of old wine and mold. He lowers me down. I descend into the dark.
I reach the cellar. It is cold. Damp. I crawl out. I am alone in the dark. I hear footsteps above me. Heavy boots on wood. And Vane’s voice. "Find them! Burn this house down if you have to!"
I feel around in the dark. Rows of bottles. Wine. Alcohol.Flammable.
I smile. Alaric taught me well.Burn it down.
I grab a bottle. I smash the neck against a stone pillar. I grab a rag from a cleaning shelf. I stuff it in. I have a lighter in my pocket—I started smoking again in the motel. A Molotov cocktail.
I hear a creak. The cellar stairs. Someone is coming down. A beam of light cuts through the darkness. "Clear right," a voice says.
I crouch behind a barrel. The guard walks past me. He doesn't see me. I light the rag. The flame flares up, bright and orange. The guard spins around. "What the—"
I throw it. The bottle hits him in the chest. It breaks. The alcohol ignites. He screams. He becomes a human torch. The fire spreads to the wine rack. Old, dry wood. The cellar begins to burn.
"Fire!" the guard screams, running back up the stairs.
I run to the back of the cellar. There is a coal chute. I climb up. I emerge in the garden. The rain is pouring down. I look at the house. Smoke is pouring from the cellar vents.
I see movement in the library window. Flashes of gunfire. Alaric is fighting.
I have to help him. I run to the terrace doors. I pick up a stone. I smash the glass. I climb in. I am in the music room. The piano looms in the dark.
I hear a struggle in the hallway. "Got you, you bastard!" A thud. A groan.
I run into the hall. Alaric is on the floor. Vane is standing over him. He has a gun pointed at Alaric’s head. Vane is pale, clutching his bleeding shoulder, but he is triumphant. "Game over, Count."
Alaric looks up. He sees me behind Vane. He doesn't signal. He just stares at Vane. "I fold," Alaric says.
"Smart move," Vane sneers. "Say goodbye."
I don't have a gun. I don't have a knife. I have a piece of glass from the broken door in my hand. I lunge. I don't aim for the neck. Vane is too tall. I aim for the knee. I slash his hamstring.
Vane screams. He collapses, his leg giving out. The gun flies from his hand. Alaric grabs it before it hits the floor. He rolls onto his back. He aims.BANG.
Vane’s head snaps back. A hole appears in his forehead. He falls. Dead.
Silence returns to the villa. Broken only by the crackle of the fire below us and the rain outside.
Alaric lies on the floor, panting. I crawl to him. "Are you okay?"
He nods. "Just... tired." He looks at Vane’s body. "He followed the money."
"I know."
"We can't stay here," Alaric says. "The fire... and the police will come."
