But she was also Lady A. She’d brought grown men to their knees.
What would Lady A do? She’d fight.
And she’d win.
Arista made a fist and pounded on the door. The force rattled the locks like bells but the door held, surprisingly firm despite the rotten wood.
“Bones!” she shouted as best as she could. He thought she would admit defeat—beg to be taken out of the dark. He thought she was weak.
She was counting on it.
In only a minute, she heard his footsteps in the hall outside. Between the folds in her skirt, she found the hidden slit and pulled her knife free. He would not get the chance to lock her inside again.
A key scraped across metal and the click sounded like a gunshot. Sweat beaded on Arista’s forehead and trickled down into her eyes. There would only be one chance. If she failed, he would kill her this time.
When the door swung open and light filled the room, Arista drew back and kicked out at Bones’s legs. He fell into the room and the lantern he’d been carrying smashed onto the floor. The oil spread out and flames licked at it greedily.
He had not expected her to fight back, after being held in the dark. He’d expected a scared, cooperative child. But she wasn’t that little girl anymore.
Bones growled like an animal and pushed to his feet. He faced her, blackened teeth bared. A small stream of blood ran down his face from a cut on his cheek. She smiled in satisfaction. But then a whoosh swept through the room, and the flames leapt to the bed—and the wall behind.
Fire ate at the flimsy wooden structure, spreading so fast that within seconds, thick black smoke rolled across the ceiling.
Becky moaned from the floor. Arista crouched down, the knife still pointed at Bones. “Becky, we have to get out. I need you to stand up.” Arista’s jaw throbbed and flashes of pain wrenched her stomach each time she moved, but if they didn’t get out soon, they would burn to death.
“Die, like the scum you are!” Bones shouted over the escalating sound of the fire. He started to move past her, but he would not get away. If she was going to die, he’d go with her. Arista swung her arm in a high arc and sank her knife into his soft stomach.
He screeched and fell to his knees next to her. A deep red stain quickly spread over the bottom half of his shirt. He clutched at the knife handle but could not get a grip on it, because of all the slick blood pouring from the wound.
Bones fell forward with a hard thump. He didn’t move again. Through the walls, Arista heard his men shouting. She rolled Bones over and used the material of her shirt to grip the knife, to pull it free from his unmoving body. If his men found them, she’d need it again.
The fire had eaten away half the room already and spread out into other parts of the house. The heat became unbearable. The dry wood was quickly consumed by the hungry fire.
“Becky?” Each breath took more effort than the last as smoke filled Arista’s lungs. The searing temperature of the fire singed her wig, and sparks rained down around them. The old, dry wood crackled so loudly that she couldn’t hear her own voice.
Becky did not respond when Arista grabbed her arm and dragged her across the floor to the doorway. Smoke was pouring out of the room and filling the hall. Heavy thumps sounded at the second door, followed by a burst of splintering wood. New voices shouted into the space. Bones’s men had broken through.
Arista stood, then bent over to drag Becky toward the door that led out to the street. The pain grew so bad that she almost vomited, but she knew if she didn’t keep going, they were dead. The men were battling the fire and didn’t notice them in the darkness.
When Arista finally felt the wood of the door against her back, she sank down to the floor, exhausted. They’d made it. The sweet taste of relief overpowered the acrid taste of smoke. She reached to where Becky always kept the key—on a string around her neck—and found nothing. Icy panic raced up her back while the heat of the fire pressed down against them. She couldn’t go back to look for it. Fire crawled across the ceiling of the hall, getting closer with each swirling orange finger.
Arista pushed to her feet and jammed her shoulder against the door. Stars danced in her vision. Pain radiated down her arm, but she tried again. And again. The street door could only be unlocked from the inside. It needed a key.