Authors: Rebekah Turner
I pushed him away and stood on shaky feet.
‘I can do it.’ My voice dragged, but I was glad to hear a steely undertone.
Seth heard it too and he stepped back with a sigh, giving me room. ‘What happened?’ he asked again. ‘So far, I've figured my guards were killed by Reapers. Want to fill me in on how the story goes after that? I've got a dead man in my living room, brains all over my carpet, and another burnt to death in my hallway. I come upstairs and find you passed out in a cold bath in your clothes. Even for you, this is weird.’
‘Ivor Grogan sent the Reapers. They took Nicola.’ I pulled my shirt off, the wet material sticking to my skin. I checked my side and saw it also had healed. My bad leg still ached, and I sighed. Guess it would have been too much to ask for everything in my broken body to heal. ‘They killed your men, and took Crowhurst.’
Seth’s lips pulled tight. ‘Then what happened?’
Taking a wobbly breath, I told him. When I finished, Seth’s eyebrows had risen as high as they could go. ‘I see.’
‘You do?’
He paused, then said, ‘No, not really. Where did the green monkey come from?’
‘I think he was a hallucination.’
‘You were injected with rapture, and it gave you the same effect as the Witch Hunter elixir?’
‘Right.’ I deliberately left out the part where I'd felt the magic mix with my blood and burst into to something bigger. Now wasn’t the time to talk about that, not until I understood it better myself. ‘We’ve got to rescue Crowhurst and Nicola. I'm going to be so grateful that I won’t bring up you recruiting me into the Order again.’ I unlaced my sodden boots, then peeled off my wet pants.
‘If you’re trying to guilt me, you’re wasting your breath.’ Seth walked to his wardrobe, shrugging out of his Captain’s City Watch jacket. ‘Get dressed before you catch a cold. We’ll talk more downstairs.’
I retreated to the spare bedroom, pawing through my spare clothes and realising the only fresh clothes I had left were a pair of skinny jeans I kept meaning to throw out and a faded Metallica t-shirt. Tightening the wet leg-brace, I struggled into the jeans, ducked into the t-shirt and a hooded jacket, then wiggled my feet back into my wet boots.
Mentally reminding myself I needed to retrieve my work-belt from home, I walked back to the bathroom, shoes squelching. Standing in front of the mirror, I pulled my hair into a tight coil at the base of my skull and secured it with hairpins I found in the jeans pocket. In the mirror’s reflection, I saw Seth leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched me with a thoughtful expression. He’d changed into dark civilian clothes, wheellocks holstered against both leg.
‘Has there been any fighting between the Reapers and the Marroks?’ I asked.
‘A small mob of gypsies were caught near the docks and warned off. Other than that, the City Watch is putting out the word that any fighting won’t be tolerated. I'm trying to set up a meeting with some of the Marrok elders and senior Reaper members. They might be an organisation of cutthroats, but they’re still businessmen. Hopefully we can arrange some atonement money for Tarn Marrok’s death.’
‘Murder. You mean, Tarn Marrok’s
murder
.’
‘I know what I mean, Lora.’
‘You really think money can solve this?’
‘Money can solve anything.’ Seth uncrossed his arms and shot a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. ‘And running off to play white knight to some spoilt actress is just an unnecessary distraction.’
‘A distraction from what?’ I asked.
Seth stared at me blankly, like he’d said something he hadn’t meant to. ‘From bringing Ivor Grogan to justice. He’s been trying to infiltrate the Gypsy Quarter with his drug pushers for a while now. I think he’s tired of treading softly. I think now he wants to make some noise.’ He ran his fingers over his goatee. ‘You need to rest. Let me ask around about Crowhurst, see if I can find out where he is before you go charging off.’
‘And Nicola? What about her?’
Seth threw his hands up. ‘I don’t want to keep going over this. You’re getting soft about her, Lora. Best way to get killed. You’re just going to have to face the fact Nicola Grogan is a few notches down on the list of priorities.’
‘Bullshit. Nicola is pregnant and when Grogan finds out, she’s as good as dead. Could you live with that? Knowing you could have done something?’
Seth’s golden eyes narrowed. I waited, staring right back. Whatever our past, right now, I needed him, and badly.
‘You ever heard of the Silver Dragon?’ I broke the silence, hoping to surprise an honest answer out of him.
Seth’s face didn’t shift an inch. ‘Where did you hear that name?’
‘It came up when I was asking about Grundler’s murder.’
He shrugged. ‘There have been rumours about an illegal sporting venue called the Silver Dragon. What did you find out?’
‘Nothing much,’ I admitted. ‘Just that it has something to do with Grogan.’
‘That wouldn’t be a surprise,’ Seth said. ‘He was a vicious boxer in his day. Even killed an opponent in the ring once. He was a brutal fighter, with an appetite for blood.’
I zipped up my jacket. ‘I thought we’d check out the perimeter of Grogan’s country estate. Find a weak spot. Sneak in and get Crowhurst, then find Nicola. What do you think?’
‘Sounds like suicide,’ Seth said.
‘I'm open to any better ideas.’
‘I know better than to forbid you from going, Lora. But I won’t be coming with you.’
I paused, not sure I heard right. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Didn’t you hear me before? I've got citizens teetering on the brink of a civil war here; a city that could be pulled into chaos any moment. The Marroks are an old family. They have many friends, many favours to call on. As for the Reaper Street Boys, they’ll slaughter anyone who threatens them. The Half-Skull Man isn’t known for doing things by halves. You think I've got time to drop everything and trail along behind you like a good puppy?’ He shook his head. ‘Not this time.’
‘That’s not quite how I pictured it,’ I murmured. ‘I thought you’d help me —’
‘I know, Lora.’ Seth’s mouth pulled down. ‘Because I help you all the time. Pull you out of one bad spot or another.’
‘Hey, hang on. I can take care of myself all right. What do you think happened downstairs?’
‘And who do you think has to alter the evidence so you’re not brought up on more darkcraft charges?’ Seth asked wearily. ‘I care for you, Lora, but I won’t go with you. I have more serious situations to handle.’
‘You care for me? I thought you loved me,’ I reminded him in a frosty voice.
His face darkened. ‘Don’t throw my words back into my face when they suit you. This is a matter for Blackgoat Watch. Get Gideon to put a team together if you’re insistent on this course of action.’
‘Fine. I will,’ I said, but we both knew Gideon would never green-light me going after Nicola and Crowhurst. He’d try to set up a meeting with Grogan. Negotiate for Crowhurst’s life with money. Would Grogan admit to having Crowhurst? Not a chance. And Nicola would be written off as a loss. Too bad, so sad.
Seth didn’t follow me as I thumped downstairs, boots making a squishing sound with each step. Sidestepping Lander’s burnt body, I slammed the door behind me. Outside, the sun like a golden coin in the spotless blue afternoon sky and a breeze drifted over my face, cooling my heated cheeks.
I walked down Seth’s front steps, trying to think of who I could trust to watch my back. The list was short and discouragement nipped at my heels. What I needed was a sign, of what to do, what direction to take. Should I go running to Gideon for help and risk him restraining me until I came to my senses? Or continue the path towards Grogan by myself?
A young couple holding hands passed me and the woman threw me a sympathetic look. I realised that just standing there, looking distraught wasn’t going to do me any favours. My eyes fell on Crowhurst’s car parked at the curb. I walked around to the driver’s side and spied the key still in the ignition. Raising my eyes to the blue sky, I sent a silent thanks to Kianna. This was the clearest sign I could get: stylish transportation to wherever my heart desired. I opened the door and slid in, a possible plan and a steady resolve filling me.
Turning the key, I listened with satisfaction as the clockwork motor ticked to life, then settled into a purring hum. It had been decided. I had transport, and now I was going to rescue my friends.
But first, I needed weapons.
I made a quick stop at my house to retrieve my work-belt, before heading to Taunton’s Pawnbrokers. The car wheels ground against the curb when I parked and I entered the shop with a determined stride, bell jangling overhead. Taunton leant on his counter, reading a street press. A man in a greatcoat was examining a lampshade, and two women were musing over a fur coat.
‘Get out.’
I said it loud enough that everyone in the shop knew I was talking to them. Taunton put down his street press with a frown. The man with the lampshade looked like he was going to argue. I gave him a hard look.
‘Get out now or I'll snap your fucking fingers off.’
The man’s eyes rose to stare at my hair, then he placed the lampshade down and hurried out of the shop. The women followed him, shooting alarmed looks at each other, the fur coat forgotten.
Taunton’s eyes were wary. ‘Was that really necessary?’
‘Yes.’
He gave me an unconvincing smile, one hand slipping below his cash register. ‘Two visits in one day, Lora. I might be tempted to feel a bit special. What do you want this time, and what in the god’s name are you wearing? Those pants are indecent. They look like they’ve been painted on.’
I ignored the dig at my clothes. I wasn’t a fan of skinny jeans either, but I had bigger problems than controlling my muffin top. ‘You remember we talked about my friend, Reuben Crowhurst, pawning his weapons here? I need to borrow some of them.’
‘That merchandise has moved on,’ Taunton said smoothly.
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Be reasonable, Lora.’
‘Tried it once. Didn’t take.’
Taunton’s polite mask slipped. His nostrils flared, and a winter-cold anger filled his eyes. ‘Do you really want to threaten me?’
‘I'll do what I have to.’ My fingers twitched towards my belt. ‘But I'm not walking out of here without what I need.’
I pinched salt a second before Taunton yanked a flintlock up. Casting a hex, the grains sizzled to life and knocked the flintlock aside, just as Taunton pulled the trigger. The lead shot slammed into the wall behind me. Taunton rubbed his hand. ‘Hellfires, Lora. That hurt.’
‘You shot at me,’ I said accusingly.
‘I wasn’t really going to hit you. What do you expect me to do, when you come in here, bristling with violence and asking after things you know you can’t afford?’
I turned to lock the front door, then walked towards Taunton with slow, deliberate steps. ‘Maybe I'm not buying the guns. Maybe I'm borrowing them. How about that?’
‘This isn’t a library. Why are you behaving like this? What wrong have I done you?’
Stepping up to the counter, I placed my hands flat against the glass top, fingers splayed wide. ‘Where is the Silver Dragon, Taunton?’
He gave an injured sniff. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Nice of you to drop me clues about what Grogan was up to.’ I leaned forward and the glass counter creaked under my hands. ‘But Grogan’s taken a griorwolf friend of mine, so now I'm going to get him back. For which, I need weapons, and the location.’
‘I don’t know where the Silver Dragon is, Lora. You must believe me.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘I swear I'm not.’ Taunton shook his head. ‘Only the elite of the city are invited. Even then, they are blindfolded and transported in by carriage with no windows. No-one knows where it is, except the Reapers.’
My lips tightened, but a glance at his aura told me he was telling the truth. ‘I'll just find it myself then. But first, I need weapons.’
‘I can’t just give you my stock, Lora.’ His voice didn’t carry much conviction. ‘If I let you walk all over me, everyone with a cause will think they can do the same.’ His eyes took on a sly look. ‘Besides, what good are Outland weapons to you?’
I flashed my dimples. ‘This, coming from the man who trades in information? I think you know the answer already.’
An excited look passed over his face. ‘I heard the rumour you fired an Outland shotgun inside the city once. You can use Outland machinery within the borders of The Weald, can’t you.’
‘Why don’t you show me the guns, and maybe I'll tell you all about it.’
He motioned me towards the back and I followed him into his office. Taunton bent behind his desk, fingers reaching underneath. My fingers dipped into one of my belt’s salt pouches, ready, when I heard a click as Taunton pressed a lever. A sound of grinding gears came from behind the far wall. Then, another click, and a section of the far wall swung inwards.
Taunton stepped inside the dark room. Following, I kept one hand near my salt pouch. A switch snapped and a gas lamp bloomed with light, flooding the hidden room in tones of tarnished gold.
‘Sweet Kianna’s tits.’ I looked around. Outland guns of every description hung on the walls, others arranged carefully on shelves. The weapons were polished to shine, and the assortment made me want to clap my hands and squeal.
‘Impressive, aren’t they?’ Taunton sounded like a proud father. ‘The acquisition from your friend turned my collection into one of the best in the city.’
‘What about ammunition?’ I ran my fingers over a fancy looking nickel-plated pistol with mother-of-pearl grips.
‘I have some, but not as much as I'd like.’ He shrugged. ‘Never much point, you understand?’ He picked up a compact submachine gun. ‘This is a Škorpion. It’s like a shoulder-mounted machine pistol. You can fire it like a pistol, or slap it into your hand and the stock unfolds for more stability.’
‘Ammo?’
‘Two magazines.’ Taunton picked up a leather shoulder strap for the gun to clip on to, a couple of pouches holding the magazines.
I took the weapon and tested the weight, finding it lighter than I thought it would be. Taking off my coat, I slipped on the straps, then unfolded the gun’s shoulder stock and tucked the wire into the crook of my shoulder. Taunton passed me a magazine and I loaded it, snapping back the two lugs on either side of the weapon to load a bullet in the chamber. Taunton watched me hungrily, as if he thought I was going to fire it there and then.