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No insult.

Just assessment.

“He’s the reason we can escape,” I said quickly. “He got me the key.”

Lachlan glanced back at me.

“The man you told me about?”

“Yes.”

Rafael lowered his weapon first.

Lachlan waited another beat before lowering his.

“Then talk fast.”

“The compound is splitting,” Rafael said. “Marcela has men moving toward the armory, and the gates are locked. Ciro’s men are trying to stop them.”

Gunfire sounded again, farther away this time.

Rafael’s mouth tightened.

“We’ve only got minutes to get out of here—if we’re lucky.”

He looked at Lachlan.

“Can you move?”

Lachlan checked his grip on the pistol.

“Lead.”

That was apparently answer enough.

Rafael leaned into the corridor and checked both ways, then stepped back inside and pulled the dungeon door shut. He locked it from our side. Anyone coming to check the cellar would have to waste time opening it.

I slipped back into the hidden passage first.

The backpack caught briefly against the stone, and Lachlan’s hand closed around the strap, guiding it clear and properly up onto both of my shoulders.

He followed so close behind me I could feel the heat of him in the narrow stairway.

Rafael entered last.

The hidden door scraped shut behind us.

Father was dead on the other side, and for the first time in my life, I was walking away from him without wondering when he would force me back.

He couldn’t. Not anymore.

I tightened my grip on the knife and kept moving.

Chapter twenty

The servant stairs were barely wide enough for Lachlan’s shoulders.

I took them fast anyway, knowing he’d manage.