It was probably one of the most idiotic questions that Drake had ever heard. “Oh, you know. Just hanging around.” When Devon blinked, as if not quite getting the joke, he snapped irritably, “It appears that we’ve been captured.”
“Oh.” Devon looked around, as if just now coming to his senses. “Indeed. I would say so.”
Drake forced himself not to sigh. Instead, he said, “Do you have a knife or anything on you?”
He appeared to consider the query. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s fine, because I do. As you know, I’m not unfamiliar with these situations.”
“I didn’t realize you’ve been kidnapped before,” Devon drawled, sounding more like his father every day.
Drake snorted. “Kidnapped sounds so infantile. I prefer to say I was seized or something that sounds a bit more heroic.”
“I see.”
Drake wasn’t sure that he did, but neither did he care at the moment. Drake had gone to hell and back more than once during this life. If they managed to get out of this scrape without much more injury, he would consider it a victory and he would make sure that Amos steered Devon in a different direction. It might take a bit of hard work to persevere, having grown up in the underground as Drake had, but he was convinced he could live a better life than his father. Drake wished someone had given him that sort of advice when he’d been that age. Perhaps if they had, he wouldn’t have lived with such bitterness and angst for so long.
And yet…
He wouldn’t have known how to slip out of a knot that was meant to hold him firmly.
Drake was about to demonstrate his skills when a door opened and footsteps started to draw closer. He whispered urgently to Devon, “Act as if you are still unconscious.”
Drake was grateful when Devon’s head dropped back down to his chest and his eyes closed. He mimicked the same reaction moments later just as he heard a snide, masculine voice say, “Turns out Porter isn’t that tough after all.”
“The great criminal of the underground subdued by an empty whisky bottle,” his cohort chuckled.
Drake ran through the catalog of people in his mind but he couldn’t place these two men. More than likely they were from the East End and were eager to gain some blunt and notoriety for bringing down Drake Porter.
It was almost enough for him to laugh. He decided that would have to wait until he was facing off with them firmly on the ground.
“I guess our work here is done,” the first man said with a bored sigh. “I want another ale.”
As they shuffled back out the door, Drake waited until the door had shut fully behind them and silence had resounded about them once again before he dared to crack open an eye and ensure that they were alone again.
He didn’t waste any time in wriggling his wrists back and forth to loosen the bonds. It didn’t take long before they started to fall slack. When they did, he used the force of his weight to kick downward and force the rope to stretch even further apart. The moment he felt the bindings give way; he landed on the floor in a neat crouch.
He turned to Devon who was watching him with a crooked smile. Drake tilted his head to the side and said, “Don’t move.” He reached into his boot and removed a knife. Moving back a few paces, he took a running start and then flipped upward, drawing out the blade at the exact moment he reached the rope holding Devon in place. He fell to the ground, landing perfectly on his feet.
Returning his knife to where it had been, Devon finished untying his bonds and tossed the ruined rope aside. At the same time, he glanced up and spied a shadow moving along the farther end of the warehouse. “Someone’s here. We have to move quickly.”
They were too late.
A large explosion sent the warehouse up in flames. Drake and Devon both fell to the ground as debris rained down all around them as the building starting to groan from the sudden burst of heat and flame.
Once he’d recovered his faculties, Drake grabbed hold of Devon’s arm and pulled him toward the door. “Run!”
The damaged structure started to collapse in on itself as they burst outside. Drake was glad that his earlier instincts were correct and they were near the Thames. As another explosion sent heat searing into his back, they hurled themselves into the river.
CHAPTER20
Sputtering as they resurfaced a brief distance away, Drake looked at Devon. “Are you hurt?”
It took a moment for the younger man to respond. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”
That was good enough for Drake. It would take a moment for the shock to fully wear off. Drake was feeling some of the stunning effects from the explosion himself.
He glanced back at the wood that was steadily sending flames shooting high into the sky. He could hear people shouting and chaos starting to ensue, and he decided it was time to go.
