Riddle Me Wicked

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ian laughed. He couldn’t help it. The entire situation was too absurd to refrain, especially now that this man—no, this Lucas Arpini, and didn’t that name somehow suit this seductive, smiling stranger—professed to suffer from his own delusions of grandeur.

“The record books?” he repeated, still chortling. “Would those be the Guinness or some other organization’s designed to sensationalize the fantastic? Just so that I’m perfectly clear.”

His amusement didn’t seem to bother Lucas in the slightest. “I’m talking international news and every significant archaeological journal on the planet. That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? To be taken seriously?” He gestured toward the ceiling with the hand that still held the torch. Circles of light danced across the packed earth like fireflies gone mad. “You’re not going to get there, digging up arrowheads for Daddy.”

Direct mention of his father and inference to his destroyed camp immediately sobered Ian’s mood. “If you’re the one who set those murderers on us, it’s going to be my pleasure to make certain you never see the light of day again, Mr. Arpini.”

“Lucas.” He frowned. “What murderers?”

It was Ian’s turn to point overhead. “Those men who put me down here.”

“Who’d they kill?”

“The better question would be, who didn’t they kill? I’m the only one who got away, and if I look like hell, it’s because I was doing everything in my bloody power to not end up quite as dead as the rest of my camp.”

His anger escalated with every word. All the adrenaline that had fueled his flight now found sustenance in his frustration. Just who did this man think he was? Lives had been lost. From the sound of it, more could meet the same fate. Claiming responsibility and then feigning ignorance either made Lucas Arpini a fool or a hypocrite.

Neither one inspired Ian to ally with him.

Shadows haunted the sharp planes of Lucas’s face, all vestiges of pride wiped away. “This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen,” he said. “Sultis made promises.”

“Yes, well, it would seem your trust in this Sultis was a tad misguided.”

Lucas glanced up again, his jaw hard. “If it means anything, I’m sorry. This wasn’t the way I envisioned it at all.”

Though he didn’t want to, Ian believed him. “I can’t say this is how I saw my first trip to California playing out, either.”

When Lucas retrained his attention on Ian, it was far more sober, more intently focused. “Did they say anything to you?”

“Nothing of consequence.” The fact that Sultis had threatened to cripple him felt like too much of a guilty burden to lay at Lucas’s feet. “What’s this about? How do you know who I am?”

“How could I not?” He sat up straighter. “You’re Ian Tunbridge, only son to James Tunbridge, retired curator for the Canterbury City Council Museums and Galleries Services, now working in London toward the restoration of World War II artifacts for an undisclosed private organization. You attended Oxford University, gained your undergraduate degree in Classical Archaeology and Ancient History, then switched to the Faculty of History and obtained your Master of Studies in Late Antique and Byzantine Studies. You went straight from Oxford to the British Museum in London, where your talents are currently being wasted refurbishing unpopular exhibits.”

The more he rattled off, the farther Ian’s jaw dropped. “Did you memorize my entire CV?”

“I had to convince Sultis you were the one for the job.”

“The one that’s supposed to put us both in the record books.”

Even in the darkness, the twinkle in Lucas’s eye was unmistakable. “That’s the one.”

Lucas probably thought he was charming, and perhaps, under other circumstances, he would have been. If Ian had met him in London, maybe, at a bar in Soho, or a theater in the West End, and Lucas had struck up a conversation with him, he would have freely admitted the American had a definite appeal. Even the harsh lines of his military appearance held a certain fascination, a raw sexiness that stemmed both from his brash personality and his striking features.

But this wasn’t a social setting, and Lucas Arpini probably wasn’t even gay, so considering him anything but the instigator of everything that was currently wrong with Ian’s life was out of the question.

“The only job I’m interested in right now is the one that will get me out of this hole with all my body parts in working order, and then onto a plane back to London,” he said grimly. “Then, I’ll devote myself to ensuring you, Mr. Sultis, and everybody else involved in this debacle are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

“Now, hold on. I’ve been in this hole all morning.”

“And by your own admission, you’re the only reason I’m here.”

“Sultis would have found you eventually. Just like he found me.”

That gave Ian pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this whole adventure started out because of Sultis. But now that you’re here, we don’t have to play by his rules anymore.”

His head was starting to throb at the same tempo as his aching ankle and stinging palms. “I still have no idea what any of this is about. Or how you think we’re going to get out of this without them pulling us up.”

Lucas rose to his feet, with the silent grace of a man who knew his body very well. “Do you trust me?”

His answer was instantaneous. “No.”

Lucas smiled. “Fair enough. Do you at least recognize that we’re both in the same predicament here?”

Ian glanced around, the memory of the other man’s approach still searing across his mind’s eye. Neither one of them were getting out, and Lucas had been visibly upset by his injuries. “All right. I can concede that.”

“How about conceding the desire for knowledge? The need to find the answer first, to solve the riddle before anybody else does.”

“What riddle?”

“Any riddle. I’m speaking hypotheticals.” He swept the torch around the cavern, randomly lighting a glimmer of water on a wall, a tangle of roots dangling from the ceiling. “Sultis is an i***t. He wanted us contained so we were easier to control. But he didn’t do his research. This isn’t just some hole in the ground. It’s connected to a whole catacomb. I can get us out of here.”

Ian snorted. “If you could do that, why were you still here when they lowered me down?”

The light swung back. Lucas was smiling, his gaze as brilliant as the illumination. “Because I wanted to meet you.”

“I don’t understand why. I’m nobody.”

“You won’t be by the time I’m done with you.” He held out his hand, clearly expecting Ian to take it. “You don’t have to trust me yet. After what you’ve been through today, I can’t say that I blame you. But given the choice of sitting here and waiting for Sultis to come back with his goons and all their guns, or getting up and going along with the guy who’s only got a flashlight, his brain, and his good looks as weapons, wouldn’t you rather take a chance that just maybe I’m telling you the truth and want only what’s best for you? For both of us.”

In spite of his better instincts, Ian’s mouth twitched at Lucas’s self-description. “You don’t lack for confidence, do you?”

“Now where would be the benefit of that?”

Against his better judgment, Ian slowly reached out and accepted the outstretched hand. His body shouted in protest when he straightened, and this time, when he put his weight on his sore ankle, it buckled beneath him.

Lucas appeared at his side before he could fall. A strong arm looped behind Ian’s back, capable and constant, bracing him to stand again.

“Is it broken?” Lucas asked.

“I don’t think so.” Ian rolled his foot, grimacing as each movement shot slivers of pain up his leg. “I can move it. It just hurts like a bugger.”

“Well, lean on me as much as you have to. Hopefully, we won’t have to go too far before we figure out how to get out of this place. Here.” He passed over the torch. When Ian took it, Lucas repositioned himself into his side, looping Ian’s arm over his shoulder and grasping the wrist to help him stay balanced. “This should help.”

The first couple steps were awkward, but Ian quickly deduced how best to move to match his new partner’s strides without slowing them both down. He didn’t know how long he could manage like this. Just because his ankle wasn’t broken didn’t mean it didn’t require wrapping to keep the swelling at bay.

Lucas didn’t seem to have the same qualms he did, though. He watched their feet until Ian found his rhythm, then turned his attention to the path ahead of them. “I’ve been wandering down here since before dawn,” he said. “I didn’t find the way out, but I smelled fresh air more than once. If we’re both on the lookout, we’ll be able to figure out where it’s coming from.”

They reached the hole in the wall from which Lucas had emerged. Now that he had light, Ian could better make out his environment. The cavern was more of a very wide hole than any true chamber. Its walls were scored with a half dozen openings, several too low for them to enter without getting on their hands and knees. Ian could only assume Lucas had done enough exploring already to know which held the best chance of success.

“How do we know it won’t be coming from another hole in the ceiling, thirty feet over our heads?” he asked.

“We don’t.”

“That’s encouraging.”

“Would you rather think about the fact that as soon as they realize we’re missing, Sultis is going to come after us even harder?”

Ian grimaced. He doubted the man would blink twice about following through on his earlier threat. “No, not particularly.”

“Then, let’s focus on what’s ahead of us. You’ll have plenty of time to tell me off for being crazy once we’re out of here.”

Ian wasn’t so sure he wanted anything to do with this man once he was free, but held his tongue for the moment. Instead, he asked, “What exactly are you doing here, then? Are you an archaeologist, as well?”

Lucas laughed. “No, my grades weren’t good enough for that kind of thing. I’m a photographer.”

For some reason, the reality disappointed Ian. He’d expected something far more grandiose in light of the bizarre events of the day. “And how does a photographer find himself thirty feet underground? I can’t say the ambient light must do you any good.”

His sarcasm went unnoticed. Lucas instead chose to laugh even harder, like Ian’s words were the best joke he’d heard all year. “I was riding with a French guy I met in Dordogne while he was chasing storms. He wanted to go one way, I looked at the sky and told him to go another, and we ended up on the evening news because we were smack dab in the middle of one of the biggest storms in the region. That’s where Sultis saw me. At least, that’s where he said he saw me.”

“You’re a nature photographer?”

“Nature, people, things. I don’t discriminate. Wherever the thrill is, that’s where I’ll be.”

“Why would Sultis be interested in a photographer?”

“He’s not interested in my work. He’s interested in me.” Lucas glanced up at him curiously. “He really didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

“I believe I’ve told you that multiple times already.”

The ground forked, one side slanting into a sharp incline. Ian stopped, forcing Lucas to stop as well, and directed the light upward, trying to assess whether it was a natural ramp or something else.

“That doesn’t actually go anywhere,” Lucas said.

That made the choice simple. They resumed walking along the flat path.

“Are you going to tell me why it is Sultis is interested in either one of us?” Ian asked. “Or are we going to continue this twenty questions game we seem to have established?”

“He needs us to find the Blood of Sheol.”

Ian jerked to another halt, this time straightening so abruptly Lucas lost his grip. He shone the torch directly in the other man’s face, searching for any sign of duplicity or humor. The only thing he discovered was that his eyes were not actually brown but a very deep hazel.

“The Blood of Sheol is a myth,” Ian said.

Lucas smiled. “So you’ve heard of it.”

“Of course I’ve heard of it. I’ve also heard of the Loch Ness monster, but that doesn’t make it any more real.”

“Sultis thinks it is.”

“And you’ve already established you think he’s an i***t. That’s hardly sway enough for me to believe either one of you.”

“But you clearly place some sort of value on my opinion, or you wouldn’t automatically discount Sultis. So if I told you I think he just might be onto something, what would you tell me then?”

“Exactly what I’ve already said. It’s a myth, and anyone who believes otherwise is a fool.” He shook his head. “How do you know about it, anyway? You said you didn’t have any archaeological education.”

“I looked it up when Sultis told me about it.”

He said it with all seriousness, and though Ian kept expecting the punch line, Lucas remained silent, waiting most likely for Ian’s next query.

“Please don’t tell me you’ve put both of our lives on the line for a Google search.”

At least he had the grace to look sheepish. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Ian blinked. He didn’t even know what to say to the man. This entire nightmare was due to some madman’s belief in a myth that every respectable archaeologist would dismiss in a heartbeat and a thrill-seeking photographer who relied on the Internet for actual facts? It was ludicrous. Beyond ludicrous. It was…for all his education, he didn’t think a word existed that could encompass just how absurd it really was.

“You asked,” Lucas said. “And I told you what it was about. Whether you choose to believe me or not is another matter.”

“How could you possibly think that I would even entertain such a fantasy?” Ian spluttered. “If you’re so aware of my education, you should have known exactly how I would view this.”

“Which might be why I didn’t come right out and tell you.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and jerked his head toward the unknown in front of them. “Let’s argue about this when we don’t have to worry about Sultis breathing down our necks. Or it’s all going to be a moot point anyway.”

Ian could have stood there and debated the danger in lending credence to mythology when there were so many real world artifacts to be had and appreciated. But Lucas was right about one thing. Their well-being was in peril, especially since they’d deliberately chosen to try and escape Sultis’s clutches. Their only choice at this junction was to set aside personal differences and find a way to freedom.

He didn’t ask for help again, and Lucas didn’t offer. Neither did Lucas ask for the torch back, though, which lent a small relief as they proceeded through the cavern. Ian needed the control, if only for his own state of mind. He needed to see where they were going, and how they were going to get there, even if every step he took was sheer agony.

Beads of sweat had popped out on his brow by the time there was a break in the silence wrapped around them. The faint cry of a bird echoed from above, and both men stopped and looked upward, scanning the ceiling for any sign of an opening.

“There.” Lucas pointed at a spot off to their right, holding his arm still while Ian sought it out with the torchlight. “What’s that?”

A ledge jutted out from the wall, thick roots curved along its length providing surprising support. At its far end, a vertical sliver bisected the darkness, like someone had ripped the wall in two.

“I think the better question is how do we get up there?” Ian shifted the beam to skim from the outcropping to the floor. “That’s got to be fifteen feet high.”

“I can climb that,” Lucas announced, already advancing.

Ian gaped at him, swinging the light around automatically. “You cannot.”

With a wink and a grin, Lucas rubbed his palms down the front of his thighs, then reached for something unseen on the wall. Ian moved closer, illuminating the gnarled roots clinging to the earth, and watched, speechless, as Lucas scaled the distance to the ledge. Though he used the toes of his shoes to help provide anchors along the way, the vast majority of the work was done with his arms, like he was climbing a rope. It wasn’t slow progress, either. He rose with the efficiency of a man with incredible upper body strength, only hesitating when he reached the ledge.

“Grab that root there,” Ian said when he realized what was holding Lucas up. He directed the light at a thick woody root with wispy, hair-like tendrils a few feet to Lucas’s left, more parallel to the terrace. “If you can reach that, maybe you can swing onto the ledge.”

Lucas tilted his head up and down, assessing the portion of the wall Ian pointed out. Lifting his foot, he dug the toe into a shallow hole, planting it more deeply than he’d used his previous holds. Loose dirt showered to the ground. Ian’s pulse jumped, but he swallowed down his panic to stay focused on Lucas. It was a long drop if this failed. They didn’t stand a chance if they were both injured.

Ian held his breath as Lucas tensed his leg. He braced against the wall, utilizing the new grip as a virtual step, and let go of the root with one of his hands to reach for the other one. His body splayed against the wall, and for several terrifying moments, hung there with almost no support. Ian lurched forward. The light jumped with him. For the blink of an eye, Lucas disappeared in the shadows.

When Ian scrambled to turn it back on him, he was already swinging in the opposite direction onto the ledge.

Ian exhaled as Lucas stood up and turned around to look down at him.

“Your turn,” Lucas said.

“What?”

“You heard me.” He laid down on his stomach and held his arm down over the edge. “Climb up. I’ll help you the last bit so you won’t have to do what I did.”

“Are you barking mad?” Ian hadn’t considered he’d have to join Lucas, though he should have realized that was where their escape would end up. “There is no way you can do that. I’m bigger than you.”

“Taller,” Lucas corrected. “I’ll bet a hundred bucks I’ve got more muscle mass. And I’ve got a strong back. I can do this as long as you don’t just hang there.”

“You don’t even know if that’s truly an exit.”

Lucas glanced over his shoulder. “Will it make you feel better if I check it out first?”

“I’d feel better if we had a ladder.”

When it became clear Ian wasn’t going to move, Lucas pushed back to his feet and walked down the length of the ledge to the opening. He didn’t have to turn sideways, and nothing crumbled from its underside, but that didn’t necessarily mean it would hold both their weights. In fact, Ian didn’t like those odds, either. The more he thought about it, the more he would rather walk another two miles on his sore ankle than risk both of them plunging to their deaths.

“It goes out!”

Lucas’s excited voice was muffled. Ian had to slide to his right to better see that the other man’s body vanished into the wall. Into the crevice in the wall, that was. To reemerge a moment later with a brilliant grin splitting his gorgeous features.

“This is it,” Lucas said. “It opens out on the side of a hill. The ground’s rough, but I can see a road not too far in the distance.”

A swell of emotion he couldn’t identify—disappointment? fear?—nearly choked him. “I can’t get up there.”

“Yes, you can.” Lucas returned to his spot at the edge, reaching even farther this time. “I am not going to let you fall. You have my word on that.”

“You can’t know that.” But his certainty was wavering. It was hard to deny the determination in Lucas’s face, or the inherent strength in the man’s outstretched hand.

“I can.” Said in all solemnity. “I got you into this mess, Ian. I’m going to do everything in my power to get you out.”