Chapter Twenty-Eight Damien #3
I glowered. “I wasn’t finished. Someone bombed the docks, likely knowing what the lords were up to.
Question is, are they competitors or friends?
” Shouting erupted from the site of the explosion.
“I’m going to go check it out,” I told the others.
Pulling Wren close, I whispered in her ear, “Stay close to Ruby, and whatever you do, please don’t leave Cap’s for any reason. ”
Her hand shoved against my chest. “I’m coming with you,” she said. “You don’t get to decide—”
Vicious light blinded me as I dropped to the ground once more, Wren’s hand in mine.
The second explosion was ten times as deafening, a thunderous boom that rattled my teeth.
I recalled very little other than crawling over Wren’s prone body.
Could hardly see anything as that light flared and sparked.
In the wake of it all, debris plummeted from the sky, raining down upon us like snowflakes.
Ashes coated my skin, the combined smell of char and flowers making it difficult to fill my lungs.
The air buzzed, quivering from the aftershocks, but it felt like more than that… like how I felt after using my mirror.
Magic.
Someone had used magic.
Below me, Wren shifted, her ragged breaths compelling me to move so I wasn’t crushing her.
But she was safe, no visible signs of harm.
I, on the other hand, had unquestionably reopened a stitch.
Fuck, my shoulder screamed with each movement.
“That was too close for my liking,” she said, voice raspy.
I peered through the thick smog, swallowing the agony I wouldn’t let show. There, one hundred feet away, stood what remained of the port master’s office.
“They aimed for the office where they keep all the shipping schedules,” I managed, my own throat like sandpaper. “Ruby? Grayson?”
This time, Ruby had used her body as a shield for the noble. She popped her head up, face streaked with dark gray and sporting a line of blood that trickled from a small cut on her temple. “We’re fine. Again.”
“That’s our cue to run.” I snatched Wren’s hand and we got to our feet, Ruby and Grayson at our heels. Taking off for the Void, I didn’t chance a peek behind me as we raced from the chaos at our backs.
It wasn’t until we nearly reached the main avenue bordering the waterfront and warehouses that I spotted him—
A hooded figure bolted from the direction of the docks, his features masked but his gait anxious.
It was him. I felt it in my soul.
Gently pushing Wren into Ruby’s arms, I yelled, “Stay here!” before sprinting after the stranger. Each time my feet struck the pavement, a wave of pain shot down my torso.
My gut screamed to let it go, but that man, his build, how he moved…it was familiar.
I reflected on the night I first arranged to meet with the buyer. To the cloaked man the buyer had sent out, his face hidden by shadows as we negotiated the deal to steal Wren’s gift. Then there’d been the night of the stabbing.
Perhaps I was delirious and running on literal fumes, but there was a chance they were the same person.
He could’ve set off the bombs.
But why? Who did he work for? Because he was undoubtedly some lackey.
The real leader hid themselves and sent others to do their dirty work.
It could all be a ploy Cameron had laid out to claim innocence should the Fates decide his shipments weren’t enough.
Or the man answered to a noble who was pissed they hadn’t received a gift.
Hell, I didn’t know what to believe.
The man could’ve bombed the docks to save the people, for all I knew. That sounded far-fetched, but he had aimed for the empty boats. He could be a rebel.
That thought was all I required to shoot out into the Void and trail him, swerving around the people who’d come out of their homes after the explosion, their mouths gaping and eyes wide when they took in the distant docks.
The man left a scent in his wake, no matter how easily he maneuvered around the inhabitants. Gardenias. Yes, I recognized the flower because Wren loved them and I paid attention. Mostly.
I silently cursed as I shoulder-bumped a man, sending him to the ground. I didn’t apologize. There was only the hunt, and I had my prey in sight.
When the cloaked man entered the Black Dahlia, I slowed.
A brothel. And a place renowned for people stepping inside and never leaving. At least not intact.
I flipped open my mirror and walked undetected past the man guarding the door, each footfall like a drumbeat of death in my ears.
Wren was going to kill me.
The Black Dahlia was one of a kind.
None of the other establishments of the night compared to the luxurious feel of the two-story building lavished in gold and plush black velvet.
An onyx chandelier fashioned to resemble a skull dangled from the ceiling, a few shards of bone hanging from wires.
Gas lamps lit the place just enough to see where you were putting your feet, but it maintained a dim and eerie atmosphere. Intended, of course.
Local crime bosses sprawled out in front-row seats before a slick black stage engraved with the lounge’s namesake flower, the men and the women who accompanied these patrons hanging off them like decorations.
I recognized a few of the crime bosses—I’d been asked a handful of times to join and swear allegiance to a group, what with my notorious nickname and all.
I steered clear of them as best I could, but it didn’t stop their lackeys from seeking me out.
Nimble waiters scurried about the room, accustomed to the darkness.
The women wore black corsets and scandalously short skirts, and the men’s chests were bare above fine brocade trousers that hung low on their hips.
They smiled as they handed out drinks from golden trays, beaming at the crowd, which murmured in anticipation of a burlesque show readying to begin.
But I wasn’t here to catch a show.
Closing my eyes, I caught the whiff of gardenia to my left, my prey within reach. Angling around a waitress, invisible to the patrons and performers—and the brutal-looking security guards—I stepped beyond two towering men in pressed suits standing in front of a long hallway.
The scent continued past them, the murky hall lined with several shut doors. Each handle was crafted into a skull, and I ground my teeth, knowing exactly what went on behind them.
The Black Dahlia was popular with the Void’s underbelly for a reason.
At the end, a single doorway stood out from the rest. Its knob wasn’t a skull, but a golden raven. Ethereal light shone down upon it, even without gas lamps illuminating the dim corridor. Almost like it was magicked.
I got to the door, preparing to press my ear against the wood and listen in on any conversation I might overhear, when I noticed it was ajar.
My heart galloped in my chest, my body giving a flicker, showing a hazy outline of my form. Wren must be too far away—
Yet I couldn’t leave yet. I’d come so far.
Peering into the narrow opening, I studied the room.
Although it was decorated like the rest of the Black Dahlia, traces of polished gold and silver illuminated the room, and the three gas lamps hanging from the walls made it easier to spot the hooded man’s broad back.
He stood before a seated figure, both of them shielded behind a carved screen made of black wood.
“They hit the boat.”
My blood turned to ice. Who was they? And that voice…I fucking knew that voice.
There came a tapping noise like fingernails beating an agitated rhythm against a glass table.
Unsure if my invisibility would hold should I inch deeper into the space, I didn’t so much as move a muscle.
“That’s…unfortunate,” came another slightly familiar voice. A woman’s. “I’m disappointed. The thief have anything to do with it?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
The woman sighed. “Then he doesn’t know everything just yet.”
“No.” The man’s head hung impossibly low. “Tonight was a failure, but I will do better.”
A scoff, and then, “You best. That was the last shipment I’ll have to split.
The next will come to me and me alone. I’ve worked too hard to keep a low profile for you to go and mess everything up with carelessness.
We’re so close, they won’t know what hit them.
” A pause, and then, “You, out of everyone, should know what it’s like to be born without power.
Going so far as to fake it. My gift has proven just as useless over time.
But the moment is coming. My moment. I’m done hiding behind a man. ”
“I understand. I want that for you as well. For us.” He mumbled something unintelligible, and I strained to make out the words, to no avail.
“Yes. And you’ll get your little treats at the end of it all, which makes everything that much sweeter. That, and the whole city will be turned on its head.”
“I promise. You’ll get your souls, mistress.”
I watched as he knelt at her feet. Just the barest hint of luxurious pink leather shone, her matching heeled boots peeking out from beneath the material.
She muttered something too low for me to hear, and then he stood, his back stiff as he turned, heading my way.
I shoved against the wall, breathing hard.
“Oh, and Everett?” The woman’s dulcet voice wafted to my ears. “I know he’s your brother, even if by half, but take care of the stony-eyed thief. We can’t afford any more problems.”