Obsidian Eyes (20 page)

Closing my eyes, I race through my memory to my last happy birthday. I was turning ten and my family gathered, my father, mother and grandfather. I can clearly remember light, warmth, laughter, and love. Mother’s musical laughter turns into the jangling of the jailor’s keys and my eyes fly open. Metal grates upon itself, the lock is turned and the heavy door swings inward.

A tall, lean, and beautifully dressed man enters our dismal little cell. He has unusual sideburns on his face, long and narrow. They make me think of little dagger blades running along his cheeks. Fredericks jumps to his feet as soon as he sees the visitor. Hope and fear compete with one another on his face. The man casts an appraising eye over me and a new chill runs down my spine.

Fredericks rushes to him, hands outstretched in supplication, he pleads for him to intervene. They are quickly engrossed in a low conversation. I can hear the timbre of their voices and only the occasional word. I hug my knees tighter, trying to disappear into the walls and follow their conversation at the same time. The man is angry at Fredericks. Every now and then they glance in my direction, as though wondering how much I overhear, how much I understand.

The tall man stops the conversation with a choppy wave of his arm and Fredericks sobs and falls to his knees. I rise to my feet. It is time to meet my fate. The man gestures to me and I walk forward. My feet are numb from cold and fear.

“Have you learned your lesson?” he asks.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He nods, and holds out one black gloved hand to me.

I place my frozen hand in his. He wraps larger fingers around mine and then waves for the guard to return and unlock the door. The keys jangle once more and the door swings open. Blissful release beckons beyond.

He pulls me closer to his side, letting his heavy wool coat fall over my shoulders. I sigh, instantly enveloped in warmth and protection from the cruel surroundings. Together we walk through the cell door and it clanks shut with resounding finality behind me. I hear the clink of coins exchanging hands, but I keep myself burrowed in the coat. Le Foy leads me through the dark, dank prison corridors and soon we emerge out into the sunlight. I blink, adjusting my sight as though I had dwelt for years underground. I shudder. For a year now, I have known only cold, hunger, and fear.

I made a mistake, but so did my father. He let me slip away.

We gradually draw farther from the prison walls and Le Foy steers me through the awaiting throng, all gathered in the square for the excitement of the day’s spectacle. I try to absorb the sunlight into my cold bones, willing it to penetrate my body, but the chill refuses to budge. I am an ice maiden. I refuse to let go of Le Foy’s hand, sensing my physical connection with him is my only protection.

No further words are spoken, or exchanged between us. A tremendous roar goes up from the crowd as the first group of prisoners walk out from the prison and cross the short distance to the stairs of the gallows. I see Fredericks ascend the stairs and stand in the middle, an empty noose swings next to him—my spot. The executioner goes down the row, putting rough hessian sacks over the prisoners’ heads and tightening nooses around their necks.

I draw a ragged breath, fear clutches at my heart as I sense the sack going over my head. I try to draw air through the thick cloth as the rope tightens around my small neck. My vision starts to blur, the edges of reality fading. Am I really amongst the crowd, or standing on the gallows imagining I am amongst the crowd?

“Allie!” A long familiar voice calls from behind, breaking the panic clawing up within me. As I turn, I feel the first genuine ray of hope.

“Poppa!” I yell. Relinquishing the hand of protection, I hurtle into the outstretched arms of my grandfather. I bury my face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of books and candle wax. A roar comes from the crowd. I know what it means and refuse to look. Relief overcomes me at finally being safe.

Finally, someone wants me.

The tears well up from deep within. I start sobbing into my grandfather’s tweed jacket.

“I’ll take her to Egypt.” I hear him say. “The ship leaves this week.”

“Very well. Bring her back when she can be of use to me,” Le Foy answers.

I don’t look up to see him vanish back into the crowd, nor do I want to see the dancing figures. I only want the safety of being reunited with my grandfather.

“Where are you?”

A voice penetrated Allie’s memory. It held concern and warmth, things she was unaccustomed to receiving.

“Newgate Prison,” she replied as her mind drifted back to her body. Opening her eyes, she met Jared’s gaze. He leaned over her, but moved as she sat up. There was a reassurance about his presence. It chased the last cold shiver of bad memory from her bones. “It was the last time I saw Le Foy.”

He remained silent and waited for her to elaborate. She let out a deep sigh, ready to tell him just enough for some of the pieces he had collected to make sense. “My mother died when I was ten. After that, my father withdrew, physically and emotionally, not that he was very demonstrative anyway. My grandfather was busy decoding hieroglyphics and travelling around Europe. The tombs held their secrets for millennia and then there was a mad rush to read their stories. Neither had time for me. I think they both simply forgot I existed.”

The sadness almost overwhelmed her. She remembered trying to cope with the loss of her mother on her own. Eleven years old and adrift on an ocean she should never have had to navigate solo.

Jared picked up her hand, folding it into his larger ones, reminding her he was there.

“They forgot my twelfth birthday. A house full of people and not a single one remembered. So, tired of being overlooked and alone, I left and never went back.”

“You ran away?”

“No, I didn’t run.” She blinked back a tear. “I just walked out the front door. No one stopped me and no one ever came after me. I lived on the streets for a year as part of a Runner gang. We stole to survive until one day the Street Enforcer and I were caught. Le Foy pulled me from Newgate and my grandfather took me to Egypt.”

She dropped her eyes to her lap, unable to look Jared in the face while she spoke. Nobody knew she had been in the infamous prison, except for her grandfather. “So you see, I am everything Madeline suspects me of being. Thief, criminal, street brat.”

“She will never hear it from me.” The scowl dropped back over his face.

“Have I mentioned you’re going to age prematurely the way you keep frowning at me?”

He still held her hand, not letting her go.

“Perhaps you should stop giving me cause.” He tilted his head to look at her from under his drape of hair.

“Where would be the fun in that?” A ghost of a smile touched her face, before she dropped it for more pressing matters. “We have to tell Marshall what happened today. KRAC will need to know.”

Jared looked at his sleeping friend. “They’ll remove Zeb from school if we do.”

“But having tried and failed to get Zeb, they could either try again or go straight for his father.”

It worried Allie; not that she wanted to get involved with the military or anyone in authority, but she wanted her friend safe. Plus, Eloise would kill her if she let anything happen to Zeb.

“Marshall first.” Jared stroked her palm with his thumb. His touch zinged all the way through her body and made her toes curl in her boots.

She watched Zeb twitch in his sleep. “He doesn’t know the excitement he is generating.”

Jared turned her hand over in his, exposing her naked wrist. “Speaking of generating excitement.”

He lowered his head and kissed her wrist. Allie inhaled sharply as his lips grazed her skin for the first time. Her body responded instantly, her whole arm tingled as his mouth slowly moved up the inside of her arm. He pulled her closer to him as he progressed, drawing her nearer to his chest, inch by delicious inch.

Allie was immobilised by indecision. She wanted to luxuriate in the contact, her skin drinking up each feathery kiss like parched earth receiving the first droplets of rain. Another part of her wanted to snatch her arm back and ward him off before she became lost. Her emotions became a whirlpool threatening to suck her down. Jared was a marquess and she was guild. He could talk of actions making someone noble, but nobody ever escaped the guilds.

We shouldn’t be doing this.

His arm encircled her waist as his tongue licked the delicate crease on the inside of her elbow. Allie closed her eyes and bit her lip to stop a soft moan from escaping.

“Jared?” Zeb cried out groggily. “Where am I?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jared muttered. “He wakes up
now
?”

Jared leaned his forehead against her and blew out a ragged sigh.

She took a steadying breath and straightened up but Jared kept his arm around her. She placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back a few inches. “That’s the second time life has stopped us from kissing. Have you considered it’s fate’s way of telling you we’re not meant to be? This is impossible, you must see that.”

“No, I don’t accept that. If this wasn’t meant to be, it wouldn’t feel like this between us.” His eyes were level with hers as he withdrew his arms. “You won’t get away next time.”

Allie shut her lids and shivered at the resolute promise blazing in his iron gaze.

Sunday, 21
^st
August.

uncan sulked, having missed all the fun. He leaned against the wall and pretended disinterest. Marshall scratched his chin as Jared ran him through events of the day.

“They said the Whisperers are spreading the word, that Le Foy wants Zeb.”

Marshall let out a soft whistle. “Popular boy, to have such a powerful admirer.”

“Who is Le Foy?” A frown crossed Jared’s face and his pale gaze flicked to Allie.

Her heart accelerated at the question. She turned away and placed her hands on the railing. Her fingers tightened on the wood as she gazed down at the gymnasium floor.