"I should write this date down,” she teased.
A surprised laugh escaped him. "I like hearing you laugh." She hadn't meant to say it aloud. He could tell that by the way Lark's cheeks flushed in the dim light.
"I don't laugh very often,” he said.
"I noticed,” she said. For the first time since they'd met, there wasn't a locked door between them—no cameras, no guards, and no Rafael Santos. It was just the two of them and the future neither of them had dared imagine.
They rounded another bend before Dante suddenly stopped. His arm shot out across Lark's chest, and she froze instantly.
"What’s wrong?” she asked. He lifted one finger to his lips, silently telling her to be quiet. He heard voices just ahead. They were low, and if she wasn’t mistaken, they were male. Dante killed the flashlight, allowing the darkness to swallow them. Lark instinctively stepped closer until he could feel her breathing against his shoulder.
The voices grew louder. "Thought this tunnel was abandoned," someone said.
"It was supposed to be,” another man said.
"You check that side?” someone asked. Dante's pulse accelerated. There were three men, maybe four, and they were definitely armed.
He leaned close enough that his lips brushed Lark's ear. "Stay behind me." He felt her nodding against his chest.
Footsteps approached them, slowly, and he knew that someone else knew about the tunnels. Damn it. A flashlight beam swept around the corner, and Dante reacted instantly, lunging for the person holding it. His shoulder slammed into the man before he could raise his rifle, and the flashlight clattered across the floor. Darkness returned as the tunnel erupted into chaos. Someone fired, and the deafening gunshot echoed violently in the confined space. Lark screamed as Dante drove his elbow into the guard's throat before ripping the rifle free. Another attacker rushed him from the left, and he fired in that direction. The muzzle flash illuminated the tunnel for a split second, and he watched the man drop to the ground.
"Dante!" Lark shouted into the darkness. “Are you okay?”
"I'm okay!" Dante called back. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. The first guard recovered quickly, pulling a knife from his belt, and Dante sidestepped the slash before smashing the rifle stock into the man's face. The sound of bones cracking filled the air, and the guard collapsed. A third attacker appeared farther down the tunnel, but he hesitated.
"Dante?" Recognition flashed across the guard's face as he stared back at him and Lark. "What the hell are you doing?" Dante recognized him right away—Victor. He was one of Santos's newer soldiers. The kid couldn't have been older than twenty-two.
"Move out of the way, Victor,” Dante growled. The kid looked past Dante at Lark and seemed to put everything together.
His eyes widened. "Lark, what are you doing?” Understanding settled over his features. "Oh—” he breathed as he slowly lowered his weapon. "You're helping her escape."
Dante kept his rifle trained on the kid. "I'm giving you one chance to move out of our way.”
Victor swallowed. "If the boss finds out?—"
"He won't,” Dante insisted. “No one will know that you saw us.”
The young man looked torn as to what to do. Fear battled conscience across his face, but he finally stepped aside. "I never saw you."
Dante let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “That’s the right decision,” he said.
“But why are you doing this?” Lark asked.
Victor looked at her. "My sister's your age." His voice shook. "I kept thinking about her in your situation."
Lark stepped forward, and Dante grabbed her arm. "Thank you,” she whispered.
Victor nodded. "You need to hurry." He glanced back the way he'd come. "There's another team searching the lower tunnels."
Dante didn't waste another second. He grabbed Lark's hand again, and they ran. Within minutes, they reached an old iron ladder that was bolted into the brick wall. Dante aimed the flashlight upward and found a rusted hatch that sat nearly twenty feet above them.
"The river is in that direction,” he said.
Lark looked up and then back at him. "We have to climb up there?"
"Yes,” he said, “unless you want to go back the way that we came and deal with your father’s men.”
“No, I’m good with climbing,” she said. He tested the ladder first. It groaned, but held his weight.
