Inside, the walls were beginning to smoke, and the exposed beams on the ceiling had caught fire. At the back of the room the door to the pantry was still untouched by the flames. Above me there was a groan, and a flaming beam fell between the pantry door and me.
I’d have to jump over the beam. I looked down at my long dress and heels. If I went through that pantry and there was no connected cellar, I might not be able to get us out of here. Why had I not chosen a window when I had the chance?
I ripped more than half my skirt off and wound the excess material around my free arm. I backed up and took a running jump over the beam, singeing myself as I leapt over it.
I got up on the other side and assessed the pantry door. Like all doors, it had a metal handle. Using the material wrapped around my arm as a buffer, I opened the door and dashed inside. At the back of the pantry there was a rectangle cut into the floor. A cellar door. I wanted to cry in relief. I hadn’t doomed us. Someone had propped it open, presumably to bring out wines stored below.
I descended the stairs and closed the hatch above us. Smoke trickled in through the door’s cracks at an alarming rate. We weren’t out of danger yet.
Shelves and shelves of wines covered the walls of the cavernous cellar. Andre’s anger had broken most of the bottles. I didn’t stop to ponder just how priceless each remaining one was. I began toppling shelves. Hundreds of broken and intact glass bottles shattered as the racks crashed to the floor. One down. Two down. Three down. I’d only cleared one of the four walls. And yet no persecution tunnel.
I began coughing, choking on the smoke that was rapidly filling up the cellar. I was running out of time and shelves. I pushed over another shelf on the adjacent wall. There was nothing but solid earth behind it. I screamed out in frustration. The cellar was too big; there wasn’t enough time to bring down all the wine racks that covered the walls.
I rubbed my temples. Think, think. But I couldn’t think; if I could, Caleb and I would have been outside long before now. I was running on adrenaline alone.
Breathing in and out, I steadied myself. I caught the faintest whiff of grass and felt the cool brush of an almost imperceptible breeze. My head snapped up. The breeze came from the wall opposite me.
Please let this be it. I walked over and began yanking down the shelves.
And there it was. Behind one of the shelves was a hollow space.
Stepping over the broken shelves, I led us down the pitch-black tunnel. Even with my good night vision I had to grope a bit to get my bearings.
It felt like an eternity before I reached the end of the tunnel. By the time I arrived, my arm was throbbing and Caleb’s hold was loosening. I felt along the damp walls, trying to find the door that led out. My hand bumped into a ladder.
Tentatively I tested it. When it didn’t collapse under my weight, I began climbing.
My head hit wood, and raising my good arm, I pushed against it. The damp wood groaned in protest, and I redoubled my effort. Above me I heard the sound of snapping roots as I displaced the plants that had grown above the hidden door. With a final push, the wooden door gave, and moonlight streamed down on me.
I climbed out and collapsed onto the ground, and Caleb uncoiled himself. His scales began to ripple, and slowly he morphed back into his natural form. Under normal circumstances I would’ve blushed when I realized I was looking at Caleb’s naked backside. But now, having nearly escaped death a few times, propriety was the last thing on my mind.
He dry heaved a few times before flopping down next to me. The door had led us out to the back of the property, so close to the ocean that I could smell the musty sea. In the distance we could see the fire department containing the fire. Luckily it hadn’t spread to the surrounding greenery.
“Thanks for saving my life,” Caleb said softly.
I looked at the stars, happy to be alive. “Thanks for coming tonight and helping me save mine.”
Epilogue
One Month Later
I tugged my dark green dress down and looked at my date. Caleb and Rodrigo, the Brazilian werewolf Oliver had invited to the Autumn Ball, were discussing shapeshifting. When he noticed me staring, Caleb flashed me a secret smile, his blue eyes glittering with something more than friendship. I returned the smile. My stomach didn’t flutter like it probably should have, but at least Caleb was a safe, healthy choice as far as dates went.
I tried not to think about the man I wished were here instead. After trying and failing to convince myself for the last month that my feelings for Andre were gone, I’d settled on the truth: I loved him, but his actions during the night of the fire had terrified me. Despite being his soulmate—something I was having a hard time accepting—I wasn’t sure I could be with someone who’d knowingly damned dozens of his own people in order to save me. That sort of devotion was a little too intense—and volatile—for my taste.