She sniffed and sidled a step sideways as he spun in a circle.
“Paid off young Beau, who told me where the entrance was. Once I found that…well…the passage back to the house isn’t so well disguised. Did you know that there’s a rumor among the Coutelier family that the old grampy, gone mad, buried some of their gold on the land?”
Severine just stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Did Andre believe that nonsense or was that just his excuse for being here?
“What is your plan?” Severine asked low and even.
Andre laughed at her. This time the tone was angry and mean, and she found it even more disturbing than that high-pitched cackle.
“My plan?”
“Mr. Thorne, Mr. Brand, and Lisette all know that you are the criminal.”
A sigh was the answer this time, and it lasted far, far too long.
“There’s only one solution,” he said with a low-chuckle. “A fire and tragedy at the one-time Coutelier mansion. We’ll have to be sure it doesn’t extend too far, of course. Perhaps only the stables since this place was meant for me.”
“You plan to kill everyone?”
“It’s the only thing. Nothing else will do. I’ll barely survive after trying to save everyone.”
“You could run,” Severine snapped. “You haven’t done anything irrevocable yet. You hit Grandmère and tied up a few people. My auto is on the other side of the flooded water. You could leave, let things die down, and come back later.”
“And what?” Andre hissed. “You think I don’t know you plan on taking everything away?”
“You have an inheritance from your father and Grandmère, and I have made no changes to Father’s will. My plan is to pay it out when I turn twenty-one as he should have done in the first place.”
“That pittance from Lukas is nothing compared to you, Sevie. I won’t be a pauper while you’re the empress. It’s not just. I am the son. I am the eldest. It should be me.”
Severine didn’t point out that her money had come from the parent they didn’t share. She didn’t point out that inheriting from Grandmère and his father was more than enough money. Instead, she took another step to the side. She was but one step from being able to slip behind one of the pillars.
“Now, now, Sevie,” Andre said, “you can’t run. I’m bigger than you, faster than you, and smarter than you.”
Severine did roll her eyes at that one. “You won’t get away with this.”
“I already have,” Andre said.
“Mr. Thorne convinced Uncle Alphonse to go for help,” Severine lied, and Andre’s gaze narrowed.
Slowly, so slowly, he smiled. “You lie as much as your father did.”
“Do I?” Severine countered. “I was raised by nuns.”
“No old church woman can remove the devil from a DuNoir,” Andre snapped back, his tone conveying his hatred.
Severine bit down on her bottom lip when she heard her grandmother moan. Andre glanced over his shoulder, eyes crinkling with a wide smile, and she shuddered when she realized how happy the crumpled form of Grandmère made Andre.
“She’s old, Sevie. Let’s put her out of her misery. Maybe, if you’re very good, I’ll put you in an asylum rather than a grave.”
As Andre squatted next to Grandmère, Severine fled down one of the eight exits off the round. It seemed to have been what Andre wanted. He laughed, a shrill hyena sound, and she gasped as she heard it echo.
“Ah-ah, Sevie. You know I like to hunt.”
His steps were slow and deliberate, but Severine had something he didn’t—the master key.
Chapter Nineteen
The secret passage ended in a small shed near the stables, and Severine hurried through the opening, locking the door behind her. She breathed deeply and then heard the sound of her brother throwing himself against the door. It would take only a moment, she imagined, before he remembered he had a gun and was willing to shoot his way through the lock. Or, he might have a key if Beau had given him one. Could there be two master keys? She ran across the pasture and threw herself into the stables.
The stalls were still filled with horses and she saw a stable boy. His gaze narrowed on her, and he started forward with a determined look on his face. She gasped, realizing he intended to grab her. One of her brother’s men it seemed. Rather than letting him, she opened the first horse stall and let the horse out. She darted down, letting out another and another before she found her old sweetheart, Charon.
When she opened the door for Charon, she grabbed a handful of his mane and pulled herself onto his back, thankful for the years of riding she’d had as a girl. The horse went flying by, and Severine let him thunder out of the stables. He loved to run, or he had loved to run when she last saw him, and she gave him his head. As he went thundering towards through the orchard, Severine caught sight of her brother. She grabbed tightly to the mane and heard the sound of a gunshot a moment later.
Charon spooked sideways at the sound, and Severine almost lost her grip. She gasped, her fingers and knees almost giving out, but she held on with fierce effort. The horse pounded through the orchard and when he started to pull away from the house, she said a low prayer, reached for a higher grasp of his mane, and pressed her right knee into him as she tried to turn his head the same direction toward one of the trees. Well trained, he turned, then slowed long enough for Severine to let go of the mane and slide from the back of the horse.
She landed hard and wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t broken her arm, but she pushed up regardless. She heard the howl of Anubis and the higher pitched barks of Kali and Persephone. Severine didn’t run towards them. She knew they’d lead the others to her, and they were all at risk.
Her brother wasn’t mad. He
