Hoofbeats thundered in the distance but grew closer.
They stared at each other. Madeline’s eyes were huge and liquid, and she clutched her stomach, crying out in pain.
Emme grasped the keys from her stepsister’s cold hands and said, “Go! Go to the lake now!”
More shouts sounded from within the locked cavern, and Emme felt a terror born of helplessness.
The hoofbeats drew closer, and as Emme shoved one of the keys into the lock with enough force to hurt her hand, a horse and rider flew around the bend. Nigel Crowe sat atop a huge black steed that seemed an extension of him, and Emme gasped. Still trying to turn the key, she threw her other arm around Madeline, who was doubled over in pain.
“Stand aside,” Nigel shouted.
Emme dropped the keys and nudged Madeline to the side, holding her close. Nigel lifted a sledgehammer and swung at the gate. The lock gave way with a deafening crash and screech of metal, and he dropped the hammer. Reaching for Madeline, he pulled her roughly from Emme’s arms.
“She must get to the lake,” Emme gasped as he hauled Madeline onto the saddle in front of him.
“I know.” He pulled on the reins, the horse reared, and he was off with a whirlwind of leaves and branches.
Shaking and bewildered, Emme shoved open the gate, picking up the keys. Using Maddie’s torch, she moved quickly into the deeper recesses of the dungeon, uncertain of what she’d find.
She came across another gate, and the torchlight shone on hands that shook the bars. Cries from within hastened her movements, and she again shoved one of the keys into a lock. Twisting it, she felt profound relief when the bolt slid back.
She tore the gate open. “Run, quickly,” she said as a handful of people, mostly men, wide-eyed and terrified, some bent in pain, rushed out of the gate.
She hurried with them to the entrance, adding, “Do you know where you are? The lake on the O’Shea property is in that direction, northward. Separate quickly, but head in that direction. It’s the fastest way out of the forest.”
One man grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles, and a few others shouted their thanks as they all disappeared into the night.
She moved forward, training the light on the ground, noting articles of clothing the fleeing prisoners were shedding. They had to, of course, but they were leaving a trail the hunters would easily find.
She heard a grinding of gears, and looking back at the exterior gate, realized it had been mechanized and timed to open just before midnight. The interior gate also clicked, but faltered and stopped since the gate was already open.
Her breath came in painful bursts, and she wrapped her arm around herself. She wasn’t sure if any members of the hunting party would come straight to the dungeon or were hoping for more sport by giving the prey a chance to spread out through the forest.
She would need to find her way back to the lodge immediately. Knowing where the lake was gave her a sense of place, but as she looked at the horse, which had remained faithfully in place despite the chaos, she didn’t know how she could possibly climb up on its back.
She had no idea where Oliver was, and knowing he might be in his awful brother’s clutches added to her worry until she didn’t think she could hold one more drop. The list was long and daunting. The shifters might not get far enough away to avoid the hunters, or they might come upon Madeline and Nigel. She had to hope the shifters were all well-intentioned people. Madeline may not have made it to the lake in time, which begged the question that had been nagging at Emme for some time—what sort of shifter was Maddie? A fish? She’d never heard of a nautical shifter.
She leaned against the horse’s side and rested her head, which ached along with everything else. After a moment, she stepped away from it, shining the light on a discarded shirt on the ground, and bent over to pick it up. She could at least gather the clothing close by, hopefully eliminating some of the trail.
She stood, dizzy, and turned back to the horse when her breath caught in her throat. Lysette stood behind her, her venomous anger so thick in the air that Emme felt it without trying. Lysette looked at her as though searching for words she was too angry to even express.
“You released the beasts,” she finally bit out, her voice low and even.
“I released the people.” Emme remained still.
“I have been planning this event for months. Months.”
“Is your father aware of the details?” For one small moment, Emme hoped Ronald O’Shea was only irritating, not murderous.
“Of course he is. When I told him about it, he said if the hunt was a success, I could accompany him on his next safari.” She paused, regarding Emme dispassionately. “Now you have ruined it.”
Emme was more concerned about Lysette’s cooling emotion than an outburst. Her demeanor had turned calculating. “And the Committee members? Are they aware of the nature of this hunt?”
“Of course they are. All the members join Father on his safaris. The prey there is of the same kind I had corralled here. The Committee enjoy the irony of that variety especially.”
Horror settled over Emme, and she felt faint. “Those trophies,” she said, her lips numb, “the trophies inside were shape-shifting humans?”
“Such a ridiculous girl, you are.” Lysette’s eyes hardened, and she inched closer to Emme. “Where is Madeline?”
Emme remained silent.
“Where is she?”
“Gone. She has left. You cannot harm her anymore.”
A muscle worked in Lysette’s jaw. “Then your fate is sealed, Emmeline. The detective was showing interest in me until you intentionally sent him on a merry chase after you.
