Page 122 of Rules for Ruin

Gabriel turned sharply in time to see the balloon floating swiftly upward. The ropes that had secured it dangled from beneath. Someone had untied them from their moorings.

Parker.

The hulking brute stood back, admiring his handiwork with a leer of triumph.

Above him, Effie peered over the edge of the gondola in pale-faced horror. She held Franc tightly in her arms. “Gabriel!”

Gabriel’s heart leapt into his throat. Good God! She was still inside the basket! He sprinted toward the escaping balloon at a full run.

Parker moved to block Gabriel’s path on the grass. “You’re too late. That thieving she-cat is getting exactly what she—”

Gabriel didn’t hesitate. Drawing back his fist, he delivered two punishing blows in quick succession, one to Parker’s jaw and one to his injured left ear. Parker staggered back, stunned. Before he could recover his senses, Gabriel slammed his forehead straight down on the bridge of the butler’s nose. There was an audible crunch as the bone shattered.

Parker fell to his knees with a shrill cry, clutching his bleeding face.

Gabriel would have liked to continue the well-deserved beating, but there was no time. Catching the dangling rope in both hands, he pulled it with all his might.

“Gabriel!” Effie’s voice carried from the gondola, high-pitched with fright. “Don’t let me fly away!”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Gabriel shouted back to her.

A man in a shabby coat and cap ran to assist him. Another workman joined them, and then another. Together they heaved on the ropes to no avail. The balloon had caught a northeasterly wind. The ropes were already unfurled to their full length. The men’s arms stretched above them, struggling to hang on. If they persisted, they would be lifted off the ground right along with the balloon.

“It’s too late,” the first man gasped. “The scoundrel has thrown off some of the sandbags.”

“We’ll have to wait for it to land,” the second declared, panting. “She’ll be safe enough ’til then.”

The third workman agreed. “You must let go.”

“Like hell I will,” Gabriel muttered.

The woman he loved was inside that blasted basket. He may not be able to rescue her outright, but he would be damned if he left her to face her greatest fear alone.

Gripping fast to the rope, Gabriel did the only thing he could think of. He allowed it to pull him into the sky.

31

Effie hunkered down in the bottom of the gondola, holding Franc. Terror threatened at the edges of her consciousness. She refused to let it rob her of her self-control. Gabriel was here. He’d said he wouldn’t let her fly away, and she believed him.

The basket rocked back and forth as the men pulled on the ropes. Despite their efforts, she didn’t appear to be returning to earth. The balloon continued to float upward, wind buffeting the silk and canvas. It seemed to be rising at a steady clip.

Fear constricted her chest. “Gabriel!” she cried out.

The basket swayed sharply on another tug of the rope.

“Almost there,” Gabriel called back. His voice no longer sounded as though it was coming from a distance below. It was close. Exceedingly close.

Effie looked up in alarm as his hand appeared over the edge of the gondola.

“What in the—?” She got up in a flash, leaving Franc on the floor of the basket. Dizziness assailed her. She ignored it. So long as she didn’t look down, she would be all right. The alternative was letting Gabriel fall.

She grabbed him by the shoulders as he heaved himself up. Clouds billowed ahead, a stark reminder of how high up they were. Higher even than Mr. Galezzo had been when he’d fallen from his wire. If Gabriel lost his grip—

If Effie lost hers—

But she didn’t think. She only acted.

Wind whipping at her face, she grasped Gabriel by the waist, helping him swing over the side and into the gondola. The basket tilted wildly as he landed beside her, his hair disheveled and his chest heaving from exertion.