Panic shredded Eoin’s gut, but he forced back the fear. If ever his levelheadedness was imperative, it was at this very moment.
“Did you say blood?” Eoin asked, hoping that he’d heard incorrectly, even as more ferocious cries surrounded them.
“Unfortunately, yes. Don’t you recognize the scent?” Hannah asked as though the smell of gore were a common perfume like rose water.
“No.” Eoin gripped the roughly hewn railing and ignored the splinters digging into his flesh. Cautiously, he dipped his foot to find the next uneven step. Once he’d found purchase, he continued, “I haven’t had the occasion to be around blood.”
“Not even during a boyhood brawl?”
“Books tend not to punch,” Eoin said wryly, even as he hated to admit, once again, how sheltered and lonely his existence had been.
“I suppose not,” Hannah said with a gentle laugh that contained amusement at his turn of phrase. “But if they did, I am not sure if pugilistic tomes would make learning more or less appealing. Studying would definitely become a more physical endeavor.”
Eoin’s eyes had finally begun to adjust, and he realized that they were not surrounded by pitch blackness after all. At the bottom of the stairs, he could spy a faint, golden flicker—torchlight perhaps.
“There’s a glow ahead,” Eoin said as he heard more enthusiastic yells. Before he could continue descending, Hannah pressed against his back and peered over his shoulder. Instantly, a flush suffused Eoin, followed by those peculiar sparks of energy that only Hannah could elicit.
“Do you think they purposely made the staircase as deadly as possible?” Hannah asked. “They’re exactly the kind that a villain in a play would push a victim down.”
Despite the circumstances, a small huff of laughter escaped Eoin. Hannah had a remarkable way of making him feel lighter. “That is very apt.”
A new roar rumbled toward them, and Eoin swore he felt the vibrations in his heart. He faltered, and Hannah bumped into him.
“That—that sounded like a b-beast.” The quaver in Eoin’s voice would have embarrassed him if he’d been accompanied by anyone but Hannah. Yet even with his blood pumping furiously, he trusted Hannah not to judge him too harshly.
“A bear!” Hannah practically shouted the words in his ear. “That was definitely a bruin. I’ve heard them growl at my friend’s menagerie for rescued animals. Do you think a bearbaiting is happening right now? They’ve become more and more rare.”
“Do you think they conduct a bloodsport like that underground?” Eoin asked as he stared into the torch-lit gloom. Outrage and disgust filled him as he thought about animals being forced to battle for the perverse enjoyment of humans.
“It happens, but I don’t hear dogs barking,” Hannah added,her voice full of anger. “It is despicable. Torturing animals for pleasure.”
“I plan to use my seat in the House of Lords to advocate for a ban on animal bloodsport,” Eoin said as he continued his descent into the cacophony of sounds. “I’ve dreamed of championing such a law ever since I read a Willoughby Wright essay on cockfights.”
“Willoughby Wright? I’ve never heard of him,” Hannah said, and Eoin realized that she had no idea that her cousin was the author of cutting satires.
But he had no time to consider the revelation as he finally set his foot on the ground. Immediately, a great rattle exploded next to his right ear. Eoin turned swiftly and found himself facing a large, massive paw. His customary calmness fled. Yelping, he surged forward. In mid-leap, he realized belatedly that his dodge could potentially leave Hannah vulnerable. He tried to halt his jump, which resulted in a rather awkward pirouette. Somehow, he managed to land upright with his massive frame still shielding Hannah but with his face tilted away from the bear.
Breathing heavily, he felt Hannah’s warmth as she once again peered over him from her vantage point on the steps. To his shock, Hannah gently patted Eoin’s shoulder instead of gripping him in terror.
“Poor bear. It’s in such a small cage.” Hannah clucked her tongue. “I must tell Matthew about the dear creature.”
Although Eoin was most assuredly against any form of animal bloodsport, he was not particularly ready to call the owner of that lethal paw a “dear creature.” However, Hannah’s statement did cause his pounding heart to slow… a fraction.
“The beast is restrained?” Eoin cautiously swiveled, his hands raised in rather useless fists. Even with his bulk, hehighly doubted that he would win a boxing match against a bruin.
“Yes. It can reach through the bars but not far.”
Sure enough, a scarred and scruffy bear was staring through wrought iron rods. Its dark gaze seemed aimed not at Eoin but at a point above his head. Eoin’s blood started flowing madly as his muscles tensed even more. Was the animal fixated on Hannah?
“Not dinner! Not dinner!” Pan screeched.
Hannah reached up to calm her pet. “It does seem rather focused on Pan. We should move quickly. I don’t want to taunt the poor dear.”
“Not dinner! Not dinner!” Pan repeated.
As a degree of calm returned to Eoin, he marveled at Hannah’s innate compassion. Where others only saw its massive size and enormous paws, she observed the bear’s pain.
Calmer now, Eoin studied the animal. Bits of its fur were missing, and healed gashes marred its muzzle. Although its feet were about the size of Eoin’s face, the vicious claws had been filed down. Its teeth had likely received the same treatment.
