My hands hurt with each movement, and scratches formed that I would bandage later. After an exhaustive climb, I grasped the stone edge at the top of the wall. The hard surface offered no assistance as I struggled to pull myself over. Two men reached the top with me. The others were waiting, having climbed quickly.

Around us was a massive stone terrace. Once a rooftop garden, moonlight shone on broken down trellises and bare flower beds reminiscent of a bygone era. Dried out long ago, there was no scent of plants or earth, only the smell of the sea below us. I glanced down at the water and swayed. Over the ledge was a terrifying drop.

We stayed quiet. As Porter had predicted, no guards were posted here. The stone wall high above the water below must be considered an adequate defense.

Porter led us through a large wooden door at the back of the terrace. It creaked when he pushed it open, as if years had passed since its hinges were oiled. Our footfall was soft not silent. I prayed no one was near. When we entered, the rotunda was empty. Unlike Harper Manor, this building had received few updates. Stone walls held mildewed tapestries from another century. Dim lamps hung from the walls with rudimentary power sources added cheaply in the last century.

We left the room, descended a staircase and split up, each heading toward their predetermined area to complete a thorough sweep. On my own, I felt liberated, free of my act as confident leader. With this independence came new fears and a rush of adrenaline. I ran down the hall as softly as I could and found stairs to the lower west wing where I would search.

Deep down, I knew the awful truth. This was a game of chance. These areas were identified by Porter out of speculation. None of them knew where Madeline would have him. There could be hundreds of tunnels and cells. The decrepit building was huge. He may already be dead, my mind warned. I pushed the thought away. He was down here. He had to be.

The corridor was deathly quiet, the kind of silence that one feels when a space has been left lifeless for a very long time. After I had walked the entire space, satisfied that I was the only soul who had visited in the last century, I decided to push on to the tunnels Porter had spoken of.

The tunnel at the back of the wing was even more derelict. Dirt floors and cobwebs snaked across a curved stone ceiling. Usually, low ceilings and dim lighting would be enough to dissuade me, but this tunnel felt different than the rooms I had just left. Someone was down here or had been recently. Footsteps were outlined in the dirt on the floor and webs that had once snaked across the entrance looked broken, their sticky edges hanging in a clump on either side of me. When the enveloping darkness became too much for my nerves, I turned on my torch. I kept it low, praying that no one would come and notice the light.

As I walked further, the tunnel became colder and darker. Porter had advised that these tunnels would lead away from the main building, but I hadn't imagined them to have the structural integrity of a crawl space. The dank smell of age and mildew tickled the reflux at the back of my throat.

The tunnel turned sharply to the right. Far down the path, I saw a light. Torch off, I advanced. A fluorescent bulb hung on a hook in the rounded end of the passageway. It looked as if someone had left it there intending to come back. If they did return, I would be trapped at the dead end of the tunnel.

The hope that had driven me down this obscure tunnel quickly faded. Odds were slim that I could find the right tunnel out what seemed like dozens in the castle. More likely, I would find myself trapped in here when one of Madeline's crew returned. I'd get myself killed. In my rush to be courageous, I had walked into a trap.

If nothing else in this part of the tunnel looked promising, I decide I would go back. I did a turn of the small round room. Cobwebs caught on my arms when I moved too close to the wall. Disgusted, I swiped them off me. To escape the webs, I stepped into the center of the room. The floor beneath me moaned.

Immediately my focus shifted. I dropped to my knees. With my hands, I wiped dirt and grime from the floor. In the floor was a small round door. Lattice like holes gave a limited view of stairs leading further down, but all else was lost in darkness.

Glancing back the way I had come, I decided to try the door. It was heavy but opened. This was another line to cross and crossing it meant even greater vulnerability. My chest tightened as I surveyed the flight of stairs that disappeared into a black abyss.

But I had come too far and risked too much to shy away from this. If he's down here and I leave when he is so close... The thought didn't need to ruminate. "Please be down here," I moaned and dropped myself deftly down the tunnel, landing on the fourth step down.

The door should be as I found it in case someone came back for their touch. Only after I heard the latch click did I realize my mistake. Straining, I pushed both hands against the door, but my worst fears were justified. The door only opened from the outside. After a few desperate shoves, I gave up. Porter could come help when I had finished a sweep down here.

Heart pounding, I shifted on the stair so I could see my enclosure. Inches from my head, spiders crawled across the dirt ceiling that had seconds ago been my floor. Claustrophobia had never been a burden to me, but now I struggled to contain it. I shouldn't be in here. I should never have done this. My panicked mind cried out to me even as I began my descent into the darkness.

The staircase was long and curved, taking me further from ground level. My torch danced off more insects than I had seen in the entire decade I had lived in New York. Eventually, the light from above faded and my torch was the only thing keeping me from total darkness.

I was on the verge of turning around. The other team members would take a few minutes to reach me. Staying in here much longer was a threat to my sanity. I took a few final steps down, just to be sure I wasn't making a mistake.

A light glowed further down the staircase. Because of the curve in the staircase, I hadn't been able to see it before. I doubled my pace.

At the base of the stairs was a door. Large and solid wood, it looked to be hundreds of years old. There was a small window at the top, but the portal was well above my line of sight. I removed my gun. Even though I had been in dangerous situations before, this one felt different somehow. On the other side of the door, Madeline could be waiting, her sneer the last thing I'd see before she killed me.

With my gun's safety turned off, I pushed the door open. My weapon was fixed in my shaking hand, pointed in front of me. The large underground room was lit by cracked lamps on stone walls. They cast shadows on tables that held equipment and tools reminiscent of the night Madeline had savagely incised my shoulder. Needles climbed my spine.

It only took me a couple seconds to narrow my focus. When I did, my breath came in sharply at the sight of the form standing on the opposite side of the room. His back was to me, but I knew. No one else on earth had that scar, spanning in a grotesque snake from his left shoulder to the base of the right side of his back.

So fixated I'd been on finding him that I hadn't considered what I'd find or prepared myself for the sight of someone held months by Madeline. Gray spots appeared around the room. I blinked. I needed to focus on something other than his injuries but there was nothing else. There was no way I could ignore the welts that poured down his back like liquid burns. The bruises on his torso and the blood on his slacks - they couldn't be unseen.

I shook my head and clenched my jaw. I was scared. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, and my thoughts raced in a hundred directions. Near the back wall, his left arm was chained high over his head. It appeared to be the only bond they had on him. His shoulder seemed too far from his torso, dislocated perhaps. I looked away. I needed to strategize, to focus.

I remembered what Porter had said about him being drugged. The Kael I knew would have recognized my presence long before I had noticed his. My thoughts came in and out in a congested spin. I hadn't prepared for this. He was supposed to be drugged, but still functional. Finding him should have been the beginning of the end. The worst should be over now, but as I stood there, frozen in terror, I realized it was only beginning. Tears filled my eyes but didn't spill. I wasn't even sure if he was alive. I was afraid to check. Never had I been so terrified to see someone.

Enough. I forced myself forward. Either my deep breath or my footfall alerted him. When he turned, I hardly recognized him. His face was swollen from abuse, his chest and abdomen as mangled as his back.

"Kael," I whispered, tentative. Signs of life encouraged me and I closed the distance between us. His eyes came up slowly, glazed with no life behind them. Standing one foot from him, his gaze never shifted. No emotion passed in the depths of his hazel eyes.

I began to panic. "I'm going to get you out of here," I promised, my voice thick. Remembering the stimulant, I retrieved it from my bag and shoved it into his arm.

When he didn't flinch, I considered administering the entire dose. But Porter knew more about these things then I did. I removed the syringe.

Kael's arm felt clammy in my hand. I studied his face, waiting for the drug to take effect. Without wincing from the stab, his eyes remained dull and unwavering. The anticipation was agonizing. If this didn't work we were both trapped and likely dead. There was no way I would leave him, but I couldn't carry him out of here.

After a long, torturous minute, he blinked once, twice, then squinted at me with bloodshot eyes. I saw the moment he recognized me, the excitement then horror that crossed his face. "Harper." His voice was quiet and husky from lack of use. I nodded and placed my hands on either side of his face.

Hearing his voice had an unexpected effect on me. Tears pooled in my eyes. "It's me," I studied his eyes, trying to decide if he was conscious of me and not just hallucinating.

Without warning, his free arm looped around my back, pulling me toward him. I hardly knew what was happening until his face was almost touching mine, his lips a breath away. His kiss was surprisingly gentle considering the force he'd used to pull me toward him. But he parted his lips to deepen the kiss, backing me up against the wall, his hand snaking up my back to run deeply through my hair.

There hadn't been a moment's hesitation for me to decide how to respond. Shocked, I made no move to stop his unexpected advance. My mind cried that this could not be happening, though my throbbing heart knew it was. Even though I should pull away, I could not deny the emotions he cultivated in a moment. Warmth that had started in my face spread through me. My limbs felt numb. I had missed him so much. I was pulled closer to him until I was gridlocked, caught between him and the wall.

The sound of his chained arm pulling the rungs above us brought me sharply back to reality. I pushed against his chest so I could turn my head away. "Kael!" I gasped. My pulse pounded in my ears. Unable to meet his eyes, I studied his left shoulder, the top of his scar just visible over his shoulder blade.

We were both breathless. Though I didn't look, I could feel his eyes on me. His arm never shifted in binding me against him. I finally met his eyes. No longer did they hold the dead, lifeless quality they had before. Nevertheless, something was different about him. His eyes still penetrated my soul; I'd forgotten how they could. But his pupils were huge, and I could feel his heart pounding in his chest against my own. Even if he wasn't himself, at least the stimulant was working.

I tried to calm my breathing. "We have to go or we are both going to die in here." My words seemed to fall on deaf ears. He only watched me, unmoving. I couldn't stay another moment like this, pinned against the wall. My head was spinning, clouding my ability to think straight. I slid my hand into my pocket and removed the pick Porter had given me.

"Can you use this?" I pushed the long metal piece between us. He looked down, releasing his hold on me at last to take the pick.

Without a word he backed away from me and pulled himself up by his attached arm so he could reach and pick the lock, a maneuver that looked impossibly difficult to me but took him seconds. He fell back to his feet freed and blinking hard as he had done before.

Still shaken from his kiss, I stayed where I was, against the far wall. "You ok?" I asked timidly. I should have asked Porter more about this drug before giving it to him.

He still didn't look like the man I remembered, which scared me. Damp with sweat, eyes darting around the room, he lacked the stoic exterior that made him the unreadable man I remembered. Every muscle seemed tense. His neck veins pulsed in huge ropes at the sides of his neck. As he had just demonstrated, he could overpower me with little effort even badly injured, restrained, and under the influence of whatever drugs Madeline and I had given him. Though if we encountered Madeline's men, I prefered this scary version of him to the zombie I had walked in on earlier.

He moved to the stone wall beside me and threw his left shoulder into it with an agonizing moan.

Startled, I jumped back. "Is it dislocated?"

Wild eyes darted to mine. His look was threatening, dangerous. "Not anymore." Without another word he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the stairs.  

*****

Surprised? Horrified?? Thrilled??? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below!! XD

*****