Page 70 of Captive of Outlaws

Bwaaaaamp. Bwaaaaamp.

The ear-shattering sound of an alarm blares through the room.

“Jesus!” I slap my hands to my ears, as do most of the partygoers around us. “That is LOUD.”

“What’s that?” Tuck says, grinning and cupping a hand around his ear. “Can’t hear you over the fire alarm!”

I sigh and smile at him as the room descends into the chaos of huffs and jittery partygoers, only broken when a put-upon maitre d’ rushes to climb up on a footstool.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he shouts, barely audible over thebwaaaamps. “There’s no reason for alarm—”

“Poor choice of words,” I yell-whisper to Tuck, who laughs.

“—but I will have to ask everyone to proceed calmly to the nearest fire exits. Should only be a moment!”

People are grumbling—visually—even over the blaring, mind-shattering loudness, but they start to file outside through the main foyer. Tuck nods in the direction of the exit, gesturing to me, and I follow, feeling strangely giddy, like we’re about to play a game of hide and seek. He takes my hand again, firmer this time, and a flutter lights in my stomach. I follow him back out to the main hallway, past the grand staircase and out onto a terrace I vaguely remember.

As we sweep out onto the back lawn, Tuck leans in and whisper-yells in my ear above the alarm.

“You want to see something cool?”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re not going to ask me to steal something, are you?”

He shakes his head. “Nope,” he says, his voice going down to a more normal volume as we get farther and farther from the building. “I’m more of a behind-the-scenes guy. The guy in the chair, radioing ahead to the others in the superhero movie, you know? But I’ve been casually exploring this place. Never been here before.”

“Okay,” I say. “But just—”

“Wait right here,” he says. “Going to check that the coast is clear.” He drops my hand—to my slight disappointment, I can’t help but feel—and I nod, and stay in place as he darts away around the corner of the building.

I touch my mask for the zillionth time that evening tomake sure it’s still in place, and fold my arms around myself. The other partygoers are somewhat older—trophy wives and rich husbands, well-heeled lawyers, red-cheeked doctors, and so-and-sos from around Sherwood—and there’s something of a thrill to being hidden in plain sight amongst them. Knowing John is gone, knowing that no one knows I’m here, let alone here with a band of outlaws about to rob them blind...

Well, it’s satisfying.

“My goodness!” a woman gasps a few feet away from me, pointing out towards the distant treeline. “Is that a wolf?”

“Don’t be silly,” her male companion says. “It can’t be a...”

But he trails off. Curious, I follow her gaze, out across the expanse of lawn, and see what she’s talking about.

It moves quickly and fluidly, more a flash between branches and trunks than anything else, but it’s unmistakably a wolf: long sweeping tail, perked ears, jaws that look intimidatingly big.

That, or it’s a really huge dog.

Because weirdly—maybe it’s the moonlight—it doesn’t look gray or black or dust-colored like I’d think of a normal wolf. It’s lighter, a warm honey brown color that unmistakably catches the light.

And then it’s gone—disappeared again into the depths of the trees.

“Well, I never,” huffs the woman, tightening her fur stole around her shoulders—a dead fox, I notice.Classy, I think sarcastically.But on brand, I guess.

“Excuse me, excuse me!” cries a stressed-out sounding voice. “I’m pleased to say that the premises are safe. You may re-enter.”

The sound of the crowd goes from grumbling to begrudging murmurs, with a few cheers going up from some rowdier guests. I look around, about to give up and head back in, when—

“Hey.” Tuck bounds back into my vision. “We’re good.”

I look left, then right. “That was all the time they needed?”

“That was all the time they could get,” Tuck said. “But they know what they’re doing.”

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