Chaos Bound (18 page)

‘What boy?’ I asked.

‘Don’t know. Never met him.’ Stonehouse’s shoulders slumped. ‘I don’t even know his name. He’s one of the main reasons I needed to hire security in the first place.’

‘You’re kidding,’ I said. ‘I was hired to keep a pair of lovers apart?’

‘They met here apparently, some weeks ago when Nicola came to audition. He’s been sending her roses nearly every day, and they think they’re in love. Master Grogan found out; warned me Nicola was promised to someone else. Her father had plans for her and he couldn’t risk them falling apart.’ Stonehouse wiped a hand over his mouth. ‘I was the one who helped Nicola get this job in the first place, so Grogan holds me responsible. I thought she had the makings of a great actress. When Grogan found out about the boy, he threatened to kill me if I didn’t keep her from him.’

‘Who does she confide in here?’ I asked. ‘Does she have any friends she might talk to?’

‘Sometimes she talked to Nane, one of the costume girls.’

‘Where can I find her?’

Hope began to show around the edges of Stonehouse’s eyes. ‘You think Nicola might be with her?’

‘Not a chance.’

Stonehouse’s face fell. I patted his round shoulder. ‘But I'll bet Nane knows the name of Nicola’s mystery boyfriend. I can probably find him from there. Where is she?’

‘Out the back with the costumes. Tell her she’s fired if she doesn’t give you a name.’

The costume storeroom was stuffed with petticoats, sequined numbers and fetish heels. I found a couple of old sourpusses behind a row of dresses, sitting on upturned crates, drinking tea and nibbling crackers. They just glared at me when I asked for Nane. When they realised I wasn’t going anywhere, one of them nodded towards an emergency exit, hidden behind a tangle of feather boas coiled around a hat rack. I gave a salute of thanks, sidestepped the pink feathers and stepped into a narrow alley.

A small group of people crouched nearby, playing a subdued game of dice. Craning my neck up, I spied nothing but a sliver of blue afternoon sky. A ginger tabby sat on a bin nearby, licking its paws and a mournful-sounding accordion played in the distance. I pulled a cigarillo from my coat pocket and struck a match against my work-belt. The flame flared as I puffed slow and easy, announcing my presence. Not good manners to interrupt a street game.

The group consisted of three men and two women. One of the women wore a fur coat with thick makeup and I figured her for one of the actresses. The other was a little mouse in a brown smock, and I took a guess this was Nane. I threw my dimples at her and she blinked rapidly, as if dazzled.

‘Are you Nane?’ I kept my tone light and friendly.

Her shoulders tensed and she ducked her head. Her limbs were thin, her face gaunt.

One of the men got to his feet, corners of his mouth pulled down. ‘Who’s asking?’

Everyone stared at me with hostile faces.

I blew a smoke ring, and took my time to answer. ‘Nicola Grogan is missing from her dressing room,’ I said. ‘I was hoping Nane here could tell me where she might have gone.’

‘Why-why-why would I know where she is?’ Nane stuttered, her eyes brimming with guilt.

‘Don’t bother lying to me. I can read your aura,’ I told her. ‘I could almost read your mind if I wanted to.’ I was stretching the truth a little. My gift of aura reading was limited to seeing a person’s true nature, but I didn’t need to peek at Nane’s aura to know she had the information I needed.

‘You don’t need to tell her anything, love.’ The standing man put an arm around Nane’s shoulders. His bottom jaw jutted out at me. I tried to figure his angle. I wasn’t threatening the girl now, was I? Well, not yet.

‘I need to find her, Nane,’ I said. ‘It’s important I make sure she’s okay. Her father’s going to tear the city apart to find her, starting here, and he won’t be as nice as me.’

‘She’ll be fine,’ Nane whispered. ‘She has the Marrok family looking after her now.’

The name rang a bell, but I couldn’t quite place it. I tapped ash on the ground. ‘You do know who her father is, right? If he gets wind of this, it doesn’t matter how fancy a name is, nothing will save her.’

Nane shrunk away from me. The man holding her went to say something, when footsteps sounded behind me and he stopped. I turned to see Crowhurst standing in door I'd come through.

‘I know where she might be,’ he said.

I sucked on the last of my smoke. ‘How would you know?’

Crowhurst liked to pretend he was a smooth-talking joker but I knew, in reality, he was a stone-cold killer. So when I saw the storm of worry in his eyes, I knew something was very wrong.

‘Nicola’s with my brother,’ he said.

‘Are you serious?’ I scratched my head. ‘For real?’

Nane moved out of the arms of her would-be protector, chin inching up. ‘She has a right to be him. They love each other.’

‘She’s nothing but bad news for my family,’ Crowhurst said, voice cold. He stared at Nane, and something nasty shifted in his face, the side of him I hadn’t quite figured out yet. Nane retreated a few steps, ducking her eyes.

I stubbed out the last of my cigarillo. ‘If you know where she is, let’s roll.’

‘Are you going to fill me in?’ I asked as Crowhurst started the car. Clockwork cogs and gears ticked to life, then we jolted forward. We rattled down the street, Crowhurst driving fast, his face knitted in a tight frown.

‘That woman said the Marrok family would look after Nicola.’

‘Yeah? And?’

‘I am a Marrok.’

I shoved a couple of knuckles into my eyes and rubbed hard, feeling my neck tighten. It was one thing for Nicola to be in her father’s bad books, but entirely another matter when she started dragging a friend’s family into her mess.

Crowhurst braked for a ragged group of street kids who dashed across the road, then accelerated at a slower pace. ‘Crowhurst is my mother’s maiden name, before she married my father, Ronald Marrok.’

‘Sounds like your family name could open a lot of doors for you, so why keep it a secret?’

‘I had a falling out with the family some time ago, so I went abroad for a while. The kind of work I fell into, it was better to be anonymous,’ Crowhurst said. ‘Bit hard with a name like Marrok following you around.’

‘Want to tell me how you know Nicola is with your brother?’ I sensed a juicy family scandal story, and waited patiently for him to fill in all the blanks.

Crowhurst inched through a congestion of coaches. ‘I still talk to my mother. She told me one of my brothers had started a relationship with a woman the family didn’t approve of. Apparently my brother fell hard though, and wouldn’t stop seeing her.’ Crowhurst got clear of the coaches, and sped up for a corner. ‘Apparently, it’s true love.’

I held on tight as we swung around a crowd of tired workers, then again around a boy herding a group of piglets who’d wandered onto the road. ‘I never picked you for a man with a big family.’

Amusement flickered across Crowhurst’s worried face. ‘You think I was born from a she-wolf out in the wild? I have a family. I have brothers, and sisters.’

‘You’ve never talked about them,’ I said. ‘Until that little run in outside the bathhouse with Erin—’

‘Eli.’

‘—whatever… I thought you were an orphan.’

His lips curled into a grin. ‘You’ve been thinking about me, then? I usually have that effect on women.’

‘I like to know who I'm working with is all,’ I replied crisply. ‘I don’t like secrets.’

‘You mean, you don’t like secrets kept from you, but it’s perfectly acceptable to keep them yourself,’ he corrected.

Crowhurst didn’t know about me being nephilim, but he had seen me use Outland weaponry in The Weald. That was a conversation I'd shut down a couple of times, before he gave up trying to figure me out. I changed the subject. ‘Where’s your brother now?’

All good humour drained from Crowhurst’s face. ‘He’ll be holed up in one of the family homes in the Quarter, laying low. I think I know which one.’

Rolling my neck until it cracked, I felt my encroaching headache retreat a little. ‘I can’t decide if this situation is getting better or worse.’

Crowhurst blew out a long breath. ‘My vote’s for worse.’

We turned into one of the narrow winding streets that connected with the Quarter, driving past four-story terrace houses with washing flapping overhead. Women walked in groups, juggling bags of washing and barefooted kids rushed about the car, banging excitedly on the side with their hands.

Crowhurst parked behind a row of parked wagons, gesturing for the small crowd of kids to get lost, then indicated one of the houses to me. I glanced up and caught sight of a pair of bloomers on the washing line. They looked suspiciously expensive to be hanging over a low rent residential street in the Gypsy Quarter. I followed Crowhurst up the narrow steps to the front door. He rapped twice, then stepped back.

Three old women sat on the steps the next house over. I zeroed in on them, thinking to check their auras. A hand clamped around my wrist. Startled, I looked up to find Crowhurst staring at me.

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Griorwolves can sense when you’re peeking at their auras, and it’s considered rude.’ He let go of me and gave the old women an airy wave. They responded with a cackled greeting, just as the door was opened by a half-naked man. He wore rough brown trousers, his chest covered in lean muscle. He blinked slow at Crowhurst, like he’d been expecting him.

‘Long time no see, Reuben.’ He gave me a lazy look. ‘Who’s your foxy friend?’

‘Have you no shame?’ one of the old woman next door called. ‘Answering the door to female company, undressed like that?’

‘I thought it was the perfect way to answer the door.’ The man’s eyes twinkled at me playfully.

‘Let us in, brother.’ Crowhurst went to push past, but his way was blocked by an arm.

‘Now is not a good time, Reuben.’

Crowhurst backed up. ‘We’re looking for a missing woman. Name of Nicola Grogan.’

‘Grogan, hey? Name sounds familiar,’ the man said.

‘Is she here, or not?’ Crowhurst tried to enter again. The man put a hand on Crowhurst’s chest. ‘Now, now, little brother. You can’t just go barging in. You’ll scare my wife.’

Crowhurst staggered back. ‘Wife?’ he repeated weakly.

My eyebrows shot up. My jaw fell down. Wife? Beside me, Crowhurst was spluttering some interesting swear words. The half-naked man laughed and finally stepped aside, allowing us to enter. The old women were making funny hacking sound that sounded suspiciously like laughter and I was pretty sure the joke was on Crowhurst and I.

‘Seems my little brother has forgotten his manners,’ the man folded his arms and smiled at me.

I closed my jaw. Lowered my eyebrows. ‘I'm Lora Blackgoat.’

‘I'm Tarn Marrok,’ he said. ‘Suppose you’d better come on inside too. Nicky will be glad to see a friend.’

Nicky? Wife? Friend?

I tried not to look like my brain had short-circuited. Marriages could be annulled. There was no permanent damage done yet. Not until Grogan found out, of course. Then Crowhurst’s family was in for a world of hurt.

I followed Tarn through a corridor, which opened into a narrow living room and kitchen area. The living room had two armchairs covered in crochet blankets and cushions embroidered with homely sayings. In the kitchen, Nicola leant over a stovetop, dipping a spoon into a bubbling saucepan. She wore a pink lace dressing gown and fluffy slippers, her hair hanging loose over her shoulders. Crowhurst stood by one armchair, fists clenched and looking like he wanted to punch somebody. Tarn came up behind Nicola, putting a hand around her waist. She turned, lifting the spoon to his lips.

‘Taste,’ she commanded, and Tarn nibbled obediently. Nicola spied me, and her eyes flew wide, her mouth forming a small 'o'.

‘For all that’s holy, please tell me you’re not married yet,’ I said.

‘What are you doing here?’ She placed the spoon back in the saucepan, then faced me with a frown. ‘Did daddy send you? He’s wasting his time.’

Tarn looked at me suspiciously. ‘She isn’t one of your friends?’

‘She worked for the theatre, keeping an eye on me. Keeping me from you.’ Nicola stepped up to Tarn, and he wrapped his arms protectively around her. Tarn glared at me. I glared at Crowhurst.

‘He’s your brother,’ I snapped. ‘Why don’t you explain to him how Ivor Grogan is going to kill him?’

Crowhurst rubbed his face with a hand. ‘He won’t listen to me.’

I turned to Tarn. ‘Do you do know who Nicola’s father is?’

Tarn’s arms tightened around Nicola. ‘I'm not afraid of him.’

‘Then you’re an idiot,’ I told him. ‘Her father is powerful enough to be auditioning for the role of boss for the Reapers.’

‘My daddy is a good man,’ Nicola burst out. ‘He’ll understand when I explain it to him. He’ll understand when I tell him we’re in love.’

‘A good man?’ I echoed. ‘Were you paying attention at your party? Did you miss the moment your father promised your hand in marriage to Elmore Deckkart, the Half-Skull Man, the current boss of the Reapers?’

Nicola’s eyes widened, the identity of her intended husband obviously news to her. ‘I won’t defend everything daddy does.’ Her voice shook. ‘He’s a talented alchemist, whose work forces him to interact with the more undesirable elements of the city.’

‘Your precious father is also a favourite to take the reins of the most brutal gang in Harken once Deckkart stands down.’ My voice rose with frustration.

‘You’re lying.’

‘Yeah? Want to explain to me why a griorwolf, tortured to insanity, made a guest appearance at your party?’

Tarn’s glare turned molten hot. ‘You better shut your friend up, little brother.’

Nicola shook her head, eyes wide. ‘I don’t know.’ She caught my sceptical look, and added, ‘I really don’t, Lora.’

‘It’s all right, sweetheart.’ Tarn rubbed her back, making shushing sounds. ‘You don’t have to answer any more questions.’ He curled his top lip at me. ‘You’re going to stop asking her your questions now. I don’t want Nicky upset anymore than she has been. What happened at her party was traumatising enough without you coming here, making accusations.’