Map of Fates (The Conspiracy of Us, #2)

“If we left you here, they’d kill Jackie and lock you up,” Elodie said. “We weren’t going to let Luc help, but he insisted.”


“I don’t think they’ll hurt him at the Saxons’ home,” Stellan said over his shoulder, “but he won’t hold them off for long.”

Elodie peered behind me. “Where’s Jack?”

“I don’t know.”

Elodie cursed and pocketed the key ring. “I’ll find him. You get out.”

I nodded, but paused. They still had my mom. I grabbed the notepad on Alistair’s desk and scribbled, I’ll find the tomb for you. Don’t hurt her.

“Come on,” Stellan said. “What are you doing?” I tossed the note back on the desk and turned just in time to see the guard rising up, a heavy chair in his hands arcing toward Stellan’s head.

“Watch out!” I screamed, and Stellan ducked, but not fast enough. The chair’s front leg cracked into his skull, and he stumbled to one knee.

The guard popped to standing and grabbed me, hauling me off down the hall. My legs dragged and I flailed, kicking back at his knee. “Let me go!” I screamed.

The guard clamped a hand over my mouth.

I found skin and ground my teeth together as hard as I could, until I tasted the metallic tang of blood.

He yelled and dropped me in a heap, cradling his hand, a mix of shock and contempt blazing in his eyes. “You little bitch—”

He didn’t get to finish. Stellan came up behind him and put a gun to his head.

“Don’t—” I said, and at the last second, Stellan took his finger off the trigger and smacked the side of the guard’s head with the butt of the gun. The guard fell next to me, and I saw two phones with blue rubberized cases sticking out of his pocket. My untraceable phone, and Jack’s, too. I grabbed them and stuffed them into the bag across my chest, and Stellan hauled me to my feet. I spat the remnants of blood out of my mouth, wiping my tongue like I could get rid of the whole idea.

“Your head,” I said. Blood matted Stellan’s blond hair.

“It’s fine.” He shook the cobwebs from what was obviously a pretty bad head injury, then pointed his gun down the hall. We were alone.

We hurried to a door, and it opened to a pitch-black stairwell. Stellan grabbed my hand, and I felt slick blood across his palm. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I said.

“Yes. Go.”

I clung to Stellan with one hand and the banister with the other, only stumbling once as we made our way down three flights of dark stairs until we were on level ground again. “There’s got to be a door,” Stellan whispered, and we felt the walls with our free hands, all smooth, no handles or doorjambs.

Suddenly, a door burst open in the wall. Someone held a flashlight, and I made out the glint of a gun. And a person. Scarface.

I didn’t think. I didn’t consider the gun. I let go of Stellan, wheeled around, and kneed Scarface as hard as I could in the crotch.

Yes, Stellan was right that guys had good reflexes when it came to that, but I had the element of surprise. Scarface fell to one knee, gasping in pain, his gun flying off into the dark.

“That was for killing Fitzpatrick Emerson,” I said. “And for kidnapping my mom. Where is she?”

Scarface panted. “I don’t know where your damn mother is. Not here.”

I was inclined to believe him. I wasn’t sure he could be in that much pain and come up with a good lie at the same time.

“I’ve already called for backup,” he said, nodding at Stellan’s gun. “You kill me, they’ll still be down here before you can get away.”

I looked up at the side of the chateau, where Elodie and Jack might be right now. “Call them off,” I said.

Scarface just laughed.

Stellan jammed the gun into his head. “We’ll take our chances.”

“Wait.” Suddenly, I had another idea. It was risky, in a lot of ways. But so was having either or both of us captured again.

“No,” I said, trying to sound convincing. “He’s going to call them off.”

Scarface raised an eyebrow up at me.

“The Saxons are not the right side to end up on,” I said. I was starting to understand. In the Circle, loyalty goes family first, with the Circle not far behind, but I represented a whole lot more power than the Saxons did.

A frown quirked Scarface’s long, dark scar downward. “I know who you are. You belong to the Saxons.”

“I don’t belong to anybody,” I said. “I’m giving you a choice because I think you’re smart. We could work together.”

Shouts came from the floors above. “Call them off now and let us go,” I said, “and when I’m in power, you’ll be beside me.”

Scarface’s eyes flickered between us. “You’re going to take over by yourself? Without the Saxons?”

“I’m not on the Saxons’ side anymore.”

Scarface considered my answer. And then he got to his knees.

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