The Duke Wore Fangs (The Dark Court of London #1)

1. Sleight of Hand

SLEIGHT OF HAND

Alex

After having lived on the streets for years and watched the government do nothing to improve the rookeries, I had come to a conclusion full of wisdom: the only reason why politicians condemned stealing was that they didn’t want competition.

Morals didn’t matter when I was starving every other day. My approach to thievery was simple. If I didn’t get caught, then whatever I honestly stole was mine. It wasn’t my fault if people weren’t careful enough. Simple reasoning but effective.

And what better place to find an easy target than the opulent Bond Street where the rich and powerful of the kingdom went shopping for things they didn’t need?

I blew on my hands to fend off the chilly wind.

My wool jacket was almost new—stolen from a distracted gentleman who had left it on a bench in the park; that had been too easy—but above all, it was warm and decent.

I didn’t look like a man sleeping in a dump with rats and a permanent sense of injustice.

Appearances were everything for a thief; that was something I had in common with the toffs.

If I strode down the busy pavement of a rich area in my tattered clothes, people would steer away from me, and that would be bad for business.

My friend Darius coughed into his fist, his bony shoulders shaking. “Stupid cold.”

As I studied him, I wondered if taking him with me had been a good idea.

I usually worked alone, lived alone, and didn’t care much about anything else that wasn’t a wallet filled with banknotes.

Feeding myself was challenging enough without the added trouble of having to share my food with someone else.

Darius wasn’t the best thieving partner.

He was my age, nineteen, but so thin and pale he looked like an eight-year-old boy.

A sick, underfed, about-to-die eight-year-old boy.

Although people easily offered him coins, moved by his sad green eyes and gaunt cheeks.

As a beggar, he earned a few shillings. But aside from that, he had never proved to be a good pickpocket.

On top of that, he ate like a bear just awakened from hibernation.

His stomach roared, proving my point.

Of all the starving people in London, he was the most ravenous of them all. If the amount of food he ate matched his build, he would be an excellent bodyguard.

Starvation was nothing new to me, but Darius was always, constantly, endlessly hungry…

and I felt sorry for him. I understood what it meant to be hungry, cold, and alone on the streets.

Compassion was a weakness in the rookery.

Yet I couldn’t send him away. If I did, he would die in less than a week.

“We had a full breakfast for once.” I searched the crowd as we walked along the pavement slippery from last night’s rain. “You can’t be hungry so soon.”

“I am.” He rubbed his belly, sniffing the air where the scent of freshly baked cakes and pastries wafted. “My body consumes a lot of energy.”

I stopped at a corner to observe the passersby. The size of the crowd was perfect, not too packed or too thin. It allowed plenty of room to snatch and run.

Ladies in fine cloaks and velvet hats and gentlemen in tailored suits watched the shiny shop windows. Gold pocket watches, bracelets, and brooches glittered in the pale sunlight, begging to be taken. And I was ready to oblige.

“We need to split up.” I lowered my flat cap over my face.

“Oh, no.” He gripped my arm with desperation. There was something to be said for the strength of his thin fingers. “I swear I’ll be useful. I… I will keep my hunger under control. I’ll help you more. I’ll steal the sausages for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Darius—”

“I know I haven’t been useful, but I’ll get better, and once I recover my energy, I’ll surprise you. I can do wonderful things.” He started to wheeze.

“Be quiet.” I slipped my arm out of his grip and flexed my fingers to restart the blood circulation. “I only meant we shouldn’t walk side by side. I steal a wallet and then pass it to you as you come near me. Just in case the target chases me.”

“Oh, thank you.” He put a shaky hand over his chest. “I don’t want to live alone again.” His stomach grumbled louder.

“Tell me the truth. Do you have a condition?”

He glowered. “No. I simply need to eat a lot. It’s how my body works.”

“If you say so.” I gazed around for an easy target. “Let’s find someone who isn’t paying attention.”

“What about that man?”

An elegant, imposing man was promenading with a pretty girl on his arm.

Her golden hair and wide smile distracted me from my task.

She laughed at something the older man said, and her brightness struck me hard, maybe because I lived in a dark room and had a dark future.

The last time I’d laughed had been when my parents and sister had been alive.

Her fine pink and white gown and velvet hat meant she lived in a different world from mine. There was no envy in that. It was only an observation.

The man removed his tall hat to greet passing ladies. In doing so, his coat opened, revealing his fat wallet half out of the pocket. With a little nudge, it would slip.

Easy. Too easy. I was almost insulted.

I wanted to smack the man on the head and tell him to be careful. The streets brimmed with criminals.

“Well spotted.” I poked Darius with my elbow.

We followed them. They stopped in front of the window of a pastry shop. Tall cakes decorated with sugar roses and violets competed for space. On cue, Darius’s stomach groaned again, and even mine grumbled at such magnificence.

A little pang of guilt gnawed at me, but I pushed it away.

Causing the girl to suffer, even indirectly, didn’t sit well with me.

I grimaced inwardly. Was I developing a conscience?

First, I’d shown compassion for Darius and taken him in.

Now this. What was next? Starting a charity?

Conscience meant death on the streets, and a wallet was a wallet.

“I’ll take the right side. You the left. Keep up. I won’t slow down for you.”

I lifted the lapels of my jacket and pulled up my scarf to cover my mouth. A few feet from me, Darius breathed hard, but he matched my pace.

“…we could buy it for your birthday,” the man said as I walked closer to him. “And add those strawberry sweets you love so much.”

“Thank you, Papa.” She squeezed his arm and laughed, a pure sound that only someone who hadn’t suffered through hardship could produce.

I bumped into him and slid the wallet out of his pocket. “My apologies, sir.”

“Watch out!” He straightened his coat, looking at me as if I were the stupid one.

Idiot.

I sped up, grinning. Hands in his pockets, Darius was losing ground. So much for being useful. Never mind. I would keep the wallet.

I was about to round the corner and disappear into a dark alley when the blonde girl shouted, “That man is a thief!”

Darius skidded to a halt.

I chanced a glance over my shoulder. The pretty girl was pointing at me.

Damn.

Darius remained frozen while the gentleman strode towards me. I sprinted, my breath turning into mist in the humid air.

“You with the flat cap!” The gentleman was in full pursuit. “Stop!”

I raced faster. The gentleman had long legs and a bad attitude. Not easy to outrun. But I knew those backstreets like the fleas on the rats in my room. I took another side alley and almost slipped on the wet cobbles.

The sound of the footfalls behind me faded. I chuckled. Tired already, rich chap? Too many creature comforts slow the body.

I rounded another corner and took a shortcut, only to bump into the blonde girl. She cried out, her large sapphire eyes flaring wide.

“Papa!” Her voice came out strangled.

I sidestepped her and started to dash away when a thud and gurgling noises came. She was twitching and kicking on the cobbles, her body stiff.

A seizure. My sister had suffered from seizures.

I should run, but the girl might hurt herself. A thief was different from a murderer.

“Bloody hell.” I crouched next to her and lifted her head, lest her tongue roll backwards. “It’s all right. Keep breathing.”

Odette had told me she’d heard me during a seizure and my voice had helped her. With my free hand, I blocked her spasming arm that was hitting the cobbles over and over. The twitching and uneven breathing slowed down until she lay still, her head in my lap.

A couple of ladies passing by slowed their paces. They cast horrified glances at the girl.

“How awful. She should be locked up.”

“In broad daylight!”

“Where is she supposed to have a seizure?” I snapped. “Only at night?”

They scurried away, muttering nonsense under their breaths.

“Don’t listen to them.” I brushed a golden curl of hair from her pale face and frowned when my not-so-clean fingers left a smudge on her cheek. She smelt of orange blossoms and talcum powder. I felt like a dirty ogre. “You’re fine. It’s going away.”

She blinked slowly, trying to say something.

“Don’t talk.” I released her arm. “I’m not going to leave you until you’re all right.”

The gentleman came out of a side alley, his face distorted with rage. “Stay away from my daughter!”

“I wasn’t… Sod it.” I removed her head from my lap as gently and quickly as I could and ran off.

A brick wall closed the alley, but climbing it wouldn’t be a problem. I could drop the loot behind me and let the gentleman have it while I escaped, but the wallet sat heavy in my pocket. It had to be full of banknotes. There wasn’t the ghost of a chance I would renounce that ready.

“Boy!” The man’s voice came loud and clear.

Dammit. He was like a bloodhound.

I leapt and grabbed the top of the wall, but a strong hand pulled me down. Pain burst in the back of my head when the man slammed me against the cobbles. White light exploded in front of me.

And that was it. Darkness.