Jonathan’s father paused at the top of the stairs to glance back at Hammond, nodded once, then fled to the upper halls.
“The rest of you have a choice,” Hammond said, glancing around at them. “You remain silent about what you have seen here and do as I say or you become an accomplice to murder.”
As if to underscore his point, one of the men the constable had sent off to investigate the house came striding back into the front hall.
“I heard a loud noise,” the man said.
Those were his last words. Hammond raised his gun once more and shot the man twice in the head.
Jonathan jolted with each loud blast, his knees feeling like they might give way. He should have taken Charlie and run, though if he had, Hammond might have killed them, too. He still might at that.
“Find the third one and kill him,” Hammond addressed the footmen. They both nodded and started off the way the third man had gone. “As for the rest of you,” Hammond said, addressing them all, “you have witnessed nothing here tonight. Return to your rooms and tuck yourselves in for a long and pleasant sleep. We will all part ways happily in the morning, and I will send word to you when I need your assistance.”
He nodded, then plucked a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe the barrel of his handgun.
“Frome, have someone clean up this mess,” he said without a care in the world, not looking at Frome or anyone else, as he walked to the stairs and up.
Everyone left behind was frozen in horror. Jonathan wished that he had enough courage to stand up to Hammond. The man had just killed two people in cold blood. He’d killed them, andhe’d threatened to blame anyone who did not go along with him for the murders.
“You heard the man,” Dalhurst said, speaking for the first time since the confrontation began. “Go back to your rooms and think about where your loyalties lie. We will contact you when necessary.”
Still, no one moved. Jonathan was no longer certain his legs worked. Beside him, Charlie was shaking as if he stood in the middle of a mountain of snow and ice.
Charlie. He needed him. Jonathan might not have been able to stop murders and kidnapping, but he could save Charlie. He leaned closer to him, letting go of his hand so that he could throw an arm around Charlie’s shoulder.
He leaned in to kiss the side of Charlie’s head and whispered, “The door is still open. We can run.”
Charlie gulped and sobbed, then nodded imperceptibly.
“I suppose there’s nothing for it,” Thomas said, his eyes wide in shock and his voice hoarse. “Come along, Copeland. We should do as the man said.” He touched his hand to the small of Copeland’s back, nudging him toward the stairs. “You, too, Moorgate.”
He glanced across the hall to Jonathan and Charlie. Jonathan was inclined to ignore him and rush for the door, but something about the spark in Thomas’s eyes made him change his mind.
“Charlie?” he asked, looking down to where Charlie had turned his head to bury his face against Jonathan’s shoulder.
Charlie glanced up. He was terrified, but underneath that fear, Jonathan could see calculation and resolve. He glanced over to Thomas, who stared intently at him, then up at Jonathan again.
He nodded.
That was all Jonathan needed. Without looking at Dalhurst or the two bodies that bloodied the floor in the front hall, he shifted, arm still around Charlie’s shoulders, and started to walk toward the stairs.
He felt as if he were walking to the gallows. The danger Hammond and Dalhurst presented was too great to defeat. There were likely still shadowy men scattered all around Fairford House who would slit their throats or shoot them dead if they attempted to flee now.
They were trapped.
“I just wanted a bit of fun,” Copeland said, his voice thin and his face pale as he and Thomas joined Jonathan and Charlie in marching up the stairs. “It was supposed to be a lark, not…not this.”
“There’s a reason they say ‘lead me not into temptation’,” Thomas said, thumping the man’s back as they made it to the top of the stairs and started down the corridor to some of the guest rooms. “The leading is fun, but once you’re there, you’re in Hell.”
The truth of those words turned Jonathan’s stomach. He’d let himself be led straight into Perdition, and he didn’t even know who to blame.
They delivered Copeland to his room, and as soon as the door was closed, Jonathan expected they would walk on to his and Charlie’s rooms and seal their fate.
Thomas’s entire countenance changed as soon as the door clicked shut. “Come with me,” he said in a low whisper.
Jonathan’s eyes went wide at the sudden change. He had no choice but to trust the man as he picked up his pace, heading back the way they’d come. Halfway down the hall, they ducked into a servants’ staircase going down.
“I know you have questions,” Thomas said as they turned a corner, the bags Jonathan and Charlie carried bumping clumsily against the narrow space. “I do not have time to answer them.You must make your way to The Zagreus Den as quickly as possible. It’s the only place you’ll be safe.”
