Page 141 of Forsaking All Others

I sucked in a deep breath and followed twenty seconds later. My gaze caught on the altar as I dashed across the aisle, but no one was there.

My breath exploded in a rush of relief when I hit Luca’s waiting arms, his hand coming around to hold me tightly to him for a long second. He pressed a fleeting kiss to my head before turning to check the left hallway.

The second door down was locked.

Cerberus whined softly as he pawed at the door, lying on his belly to sniff avidly at the crack under the door.

He only reacted that way to me or one of the twins.

Luca cursed under his breath before reaching into his back pocket for his roll of tools, extracting two thin implements without hesitation, then slotting them into the old door.

It swung open two seconds later with a low hiss of warped wood on old stone.

The space was filled with the low purple-and-red light spilling in from the stained-glass window, and beneath it, Dario lay half propped against one mildew-damp wall, his enormous frame wilted and mottled with so many bruises and so much blood I couldn’t see a patch of clean, unharmed skin.

“Porca miseria,” I cursed in Italian quietly as Luca, Cerberus, and I hurried forward.

Dario didn’t stir, even when Luca started to pick the shackles around his hands and feet, nor when I cupped one cheek and lightly shook his head as the dog licked at his cheek.

“He’s out cold.”

“I’ll carry him,” Luca replied instantly, as if it would be easy to carry a man who weighed at least 220 pounds of muscle when he was the same size.

I didn’t second-guess him. Instead, I confirmed into my earpiece, “We’re coming out. Luca has Dario. Walt, be ready for us in four minutes.”

There was a murmur of affirmations through the microphone, but my focus was on Luca, who had freed Dario from the chains and was carefully lifting his dead weight up over one shoulder before straightening slowly to his own feet.

Dario’s head flopped down his brother’s back, the wound where his ear used to be swollen and filled with puss. An obvious infection.

I looked at his hand, noting that the severed fingers had at least been cauterized to bloody, crusted stubs.

Cazzo.

He could have fucking died in here.

And because of whom?

Fury filled me, made me less cautious as I followed Luca and his brother out of the room into the hall.

The sound of voices was louder now, out from behind the apse with, potentially, a clear view to the entrance of the church. There was no exit on this side of Santa Maria. We either needed to cross the nave to the front door, or to the other side where an emergency exit was positioned near the transept, or back down the stairs through the storm doors.

Luca hesitated, clearly trying to figure out what to do. The whites of his eyes seemed to glow as he stared over his shoulder at me, and I knew we both realized I wouldn’t be able to carry Dario out of the church.

I had to be the distraction.

“Go,” I said, as calm filled me like helium gas, making me feel curiously light and unburdened.

“Absolutely not,” he whispered back. “Get one of your men to come in here and—”

The voices grew louder, separating into three distinct strands. Two men and a woman.

“Go,” I hissed, lifting my blade into the hold with my gun so I would be ready with both. “If you don’t, we’ll both be caught out. Get him out of here, Ghost. Cerberus will be with me.”

Luca’s jaw ticked, but a moment later, the sound of boots striking stone sounded down the corridor behind me, and I whirled to spot another guard coming our way.

“Hey!” he called out.

Luca didn’t have a choice but to act.