I don't scream. I don't stop moving.
I drag her across the floor behind the island toward the heavy stainless-steel refrigerator. Built seamlessly into the floor tilesdirectly beneath it is the biometric lock for the subterranean vault. The ultimate, impenetrable panic room.
I press my bloody thumb against the scanner.
The heavy stone tile slides back with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a dark, steel-lined chute.
"No!" Sybil screams, entirely realizing what I am doing. She fights me, her hands clawing desperately at my arms, her eyes completely wild with terror. "Thayer, no! Don't put me in the dark! Don't leave me!"
"I promised you no one would ever touch you," I murmur, my voice a dark, blood-filled rasp. I look down at her terrified, beautiful face one last time. "I love you, little bird."
I shove her entirely into the dark chute.
"Thayer!" her scream is a completely shattered, agonizing wail of pure devastation.
I hit the manual override button. The heavy steel and stone hatch violently slams shut, the locking mechanisms engaging with a series of heavy, definitiveclacks.
She is sealed. She is safe. The vault is entirely impervious to breaching charges, and it has enough oxygen and supplies to keep her alive for a month.
I am completely alone.
I lean back against the heavy steel of the closed hatch. The blood is pooling rapidly around my legs. The edges of my vision are entirely black, completely collapsing inward.
The heavy, tactical boots of the federal agents crunch on the broken marble as they slowly flank the island.
"Thorne! It's over!" Hayes Vance yells, his voice echoing in the ruined, bloody quiet. "Show your hands!"
I do not raise my hands. I do not surrender.
I reach into the pocket of my dark trousers. My fingers wrap securely around the heavy, black plastic detonator wired to the secondary C4 charges buried directly in the foundation of the villa.
I pull the detonator out. I rest my thumb entirely over the heavy red switch.
I look up at the smoke-filled, red-lit ceiling, a dark, completely unhinged smile completely curving my pale, blood-stained lips.
If they want the monster, they are going to have to follow him straight into hell.
I press the button.
CHAPTER 30 THE ASHES OF THE CROWN POV: SYBIL
The descent is a violent, breathless freefall into absolute, suffocating darkness.
My body hits the smooth, angled steel of the chute, sliding rapidly downward before being violently expelled onto a hard, unforgiving concrete floor. The impact knocks the remaining oxygen completely out of my lungs. I hit the ground in a tangle of bruised limbs, my shoulder slamming against the cold stone, the heavy Glock clattering out of my grasp and sliding away into the pitch-black void.
High above me, the heavy steel and stone hatch violently slams shut with a terrifying, pneumatic hiss. The locking mechanisms engage, a series of heavy, definitiveclacksthat echo like the slamming of a coffin lid.
I scramble to my hands and knees, my chest heaving, desperately trying to drag air into my paralyzed lungs. The absolute, impenetrable darkness presses against my retinas, a physical weight that immediately triggers a blinding wave of claustrophobia.
"Thayer!" I scream, the sound tearing completely raw from my throat, bouncing uselessly off the subterranean walls.
I lunge upward, my hands blindly grasping at the smooth steel chute leading back up to the ceiling. I claw at the metal, my fingernails scraping uselessly against the impenetrable barrier.
"Thayer! No! Open the door!"
I beat my fists against the curved steel until my knuckles split, the dull, muffled thuds entirely swallowed by the vast silence of the vault. I am weeping hysterically, the tears mixing with the blood and sweat on my face, completely unhinged by the sheer, catastrophic reality of what he just did.
He shoved me into the dark to save me. He locked me away so he could face the firing squad alone.
