Gift of Fire

Verity could not move. A wave of nausea suddenly overtook her. With an extreme effort of will she made herself cross the room to where Maggie lay.
    There was a weak pulse in Maggie’s throat and Verity swallowed heavily with relief. At first glance, she had been certain that Maggie was dead. The amount of blood from her head wound was terrifying.
    A faint, half-familiar odor made Verity wrinkle her nose as she bent over Maggie. She knew that acrid scent, she realized suddenly. She had smelled it briefly the night she had been attacked outside the bathroom of the bed-and-breakfast inn. It was the odor of stale smoke.
    Only one person at the villa smoked.
    Verity started to pull her hand away from Maggie’s throat. She had to get out of here—she had to find Jonas. Her fingers brushed the chain that Maggie had always worn around her neck and her red crystal earrings suddenly burned.
    Guided by pure instinct and a growing suspicion, Verity gently tugged the chain from under the collar of the faded housedress.
    A green crystal glittered at the end of the chain.
    Verity stared at it, mesmerized by the reality of what, until now, had been only an image trapped in time. She was trying to make sense of what she’d discovered when she heard quick, heavy footsteps in the hall.
    Terror surged through her. The man who had done this to Maggie was coming back to finish his grim business. Verity knew it as surely as she knew her own name—and his.
    She leaped to her feet, holding the green crystal tightly.
    The metal chain snapped, but Verity didn’t even notice. She turned and darted toward the only possible escape—the open corridor door.
    She plunged into an endless tunnel of darkness. Where was Jonas and his industrial-strength flashlight when she needed him? Trying not to make any noise. Verity inched cautiously along the tunnel wall. She had to get away from the shaft of light that poured into the passageway from the torture chamber.
    She was several feet away from the opening when she heard a scraping sound, the unmistakable noise of a body being dragged. Verity had never heard such a sound before in her life, but she recognized it immediately.
    Maggie Frampton’s unconscious, bulky frame was thrust unceremoniously through the opening and dumped in the corridor. A dark figure stepped in behind her and shone a flashlight beam quickly in both directions.
    The beam just hit the heel of Verity’s shoe as she turned and fled into the impenetrable darkness of the hidden passageway.

 
    Chapter Sixteen
     
    He’d seen her! She was certain the flashlight had caught her. Verity ran recklessly into the darkness, one palm scraping along the wall as a guide. How much farther to the stairs? Adrenaline was pounding through her veins as she listened for the sound of Slade Spencer’s pursuing footsteps.
    But a few seconds later Verity realized she heard nothing behind her. There was not even the glare of a flashlight bearing down on her. She cast an anxious glance back over her shoulder and saw the shaft of light from the corridor exit starting to narrow.
    Slade wasn’t going to pursue her through the passageway—he was sealing her inside!
    Her momentary relief gave way to a mounting horror as the last of the light disappeared from the stone passage. The tunnel door slammed shut with a resounding thud. The silence of a tomb descended and utter darkness engulfed her.
    Verity felt the cold stone under her palm. Her eyes were wide open but she might as well have been blind. There was simply no light, no light at all.
    She fought a severe attack of claustrophobia as she stated to slowly, cautiously retrace her steps. Maggie was trapped in here with her, and the poor woman might very well be dying. It seemed to take forever before she stumbled over Maggie’s inert frame.
    “I’m sorry, Maggie.” Her apology went unheard. The housekeeper was still unconscious. Verity fumbled in the darkness and located her head wound. It was hard to tell but it seemed to Verity that it wasn’t leaking blood at a rapid rate. Just a slow oozing.
    Verity eased the woman’s head back down on the cold stone and straightened in the darkness. She had to get them out of here. She could only pray that when she finally got the stone door open, Slade Spencer would not be waiting in the torture chamber.
    But it seemed most likely that he would have fled after sealing his victims inside the tunnel. He probably assumed that Maggie was dead and that Verity