Chapter 30 Zaria
ZARIA
The sky outside Mansion House was dark as pitch.
Rain fell in a thin sheet, a distant rumble of thunder suggesting a storm might follow.
Zaria ducked her head against the onslaught, lifting her shoulders to her ears.
Jules was already inside, as he had been for the better part of the afternoon, helping the staff set up for tonight’s meeting.
Based on what he’d told them the other day, the Royal Commission’s meetings had become increasingly private and fraught with tension.
This could be explained by the ongoing appearances of the strange devices, of course, but Zaria hoped it was something more.
She hoped that whatever cracks existed in the commission were about to show.
She, Kane, and Fletcher were huddled against the rear exterior of the building, a few paces away from the door Jules had identified as leading into the kitchens.
Fletcher’s face was contorted in a scowl as he squinted against the rain.
Kane, on the other hand, didn’t appear to notice it at all.
He leaned calmly against the stone wall, hands in his coat pockets, gaze trained on the ground in a way that suggested he wasn’t seeing it.
Even wet, he was infuriatingly handsome, the rain darkening his hair to black.
As Zaria watched, a single drop tracked a line down the side of his face, catching on his jaw and disappearing into the collar of his shirt.
They hadn’t spoken about the previous evening, which was a relief, since Zaria wasn’t sure what to say.
Upon returning to her rooms, she’d fallen asleep surprisingly quickly, but woke with the sun and lay motionless for several hours, wondering what the hell she’d been thinking.
It was as though she’d been a different version of herself last night.
A version who’d thrown logic by the wayside and was ruled solely by desire for a boy she should not—could not—want.
Perhaps that was why she’d tried so hard to detest him.
Because somehow, deep down, she knew the alternative would break them both.
Her plan had always been to leave London.
Even if Kane hadn’t been who he was, that fact would have held true.
But Kane was the kingpin of the dark market, the most feared man in Devil’s Acre, and Zaria cared about him.
She didn’t know where to put those feelings now.
They sat in her chest like a weight, heavier than ever after what had transpired last night.
She felt braced for impact. Braced for the inevitable, painful moment when reality finally sank in.
He’s obsessed with you, Jules had told her.
She hadn’t believed it. Not then.
A soft knock sounded from the door behind them, barely audible over the patter of rain.
Two sets of triplets, just as they’d decided beforehand.
It jolted Zaria out of her reverie, and she jerked her gaze from Kane right as his head snapped up.
Given that he was nearest the door, he returned the knock.
It opened a heartbeat later to reveal Jules’s harried expression.
“Quick,” he hissed through his teeth, glancing in either direction before moving aside. “The commission members have started arriving.”
Kane nodded, ducking inside, and Zaria followed.
They’d decided in the end that they would both enter the building with Jules—mainly because Kane refused not to come, despite the fact that he was still visibly in pain from the last lingering effects of the alchemological dart.
Meanwhile, Fletcher would remain outside the door to ensure they had a safe escape.
Zaria had offered to observe the meeting alone, but Kane wouldn’t hear of it.
He needed to see the commission members interact for himself, he’d claimed.
Zaria might have been imagining things, but it seemed like the tension between Kane and Jules was thicker than ever, which only added to her confusing emotions.
God, she hoped they could discern who the Curator was today.
The sooner this was over, the sooner she could sever the bond between herself and Kane before it got any harder to do so.
She balked at the thought, biting her lip until she tasted the metallic tang of blood.
“Be careful,” Fletcher said, peering at them through the crack in the door. Water beaded on his forehead and clung to his eyelashes. He appeared to be speaking directly to Kane, who was rather pale. Zaria wondered if he’d slept, or if he’d lain awake with regret pulsing through his veins.
Kane gave an easy grin. “You, too.”
With that, the door snicked shut between them.
Mansion House wasn’t as grand as Zaria had expected, but admittedly they were only in a storage closet.
She could hear the urgent voices of staff in the next room, accompanied by the telltale clinking of metal and glassware.
Her heart began to beat faster at the prospect of navigating the area, but Jules inclined his head at the stairwell to their left.
“That leads to the main-floor hallway,” he whispered. “The meeting room branches right off it. You’ll know when you’ve reached the right place—the doors are open.”
Kane nodded. If Zaria hadn’t known better, she would have thought him perfectly confident, but there was a tightness around his eyes she didn’t think was borne only of exhaustion. “Did you manage to get onto serving duty?” he asked Jules.
“Yeah. I’ll be standing in the dining hall for most of the evening, in case a rich man needs something.
” Jules glanced toward the ceiling with a disgruntled sigh.
“In fact, I’d better get there before someone wonders where I wandered off to.
” Zaria expected him to wish her luck, but instead Jules glared meaningfully at Kane, extending an index finger. “Do not let anything happen to her.”
Kane’s eyes flashed, his lip curling back. “Never.”
“We’ll be fine,” Zaria reassured her friend, dismay flooding her as she recalled their conversation two nights ago. You have to let him go. “Promise.”
Jules gave her shoulder a squeeze, shot Kane one last threatening look, then disappeared around the corner.
Zaria took a steadying breath and squared her shoulders.
The only light in the storage room emanated from the kitchens next door, and she was abruptly all too aware that she and Kane were alone.
Don’t be ridiculous, she chided herself. This is hardly the time.
Her head knew as much, but her body didn’t appear to want to listen.
Her stomach did flips as she followed Kane up the narrow wooden staircase, doing her best to keep her steps as quiet as his.
He stopped just before the door at the landing, causing her to collide with his back. An arm snapped out to steady her.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
His tone was wry. “The last thing I need is you falling down the stairs before we’ve even made it to the meeting.”
It was such a typically Kane response, Zaria couldn’t tell whether she was relieved or disappointed. Perhaps he’d decided to disregard all that had happened last night. To pack it into a tiny box and toss away the key. It would be better that way, wouldn’t it?
“You don’t need to be an ass,” she snapped back.
He turned to face her, something pained in the depths of his gaze. His eyes were gold in the distant spill of murky candlelight. “Yes,” he whispered. “I think I do.”
Zaria understood what he was trying to say. She swallowed and nodded, looking away from the shadowed planes of his face.
You have to let him go.
It couldn’t be that hard. After all, she’d never truly had him in the first place, had she?
Kane pressed his ear to the door. After a long moment, he dipped his chin. “Okay,” he said, low enough that Zaria had to strain to hear him. “Follow me. And get your gun out.”
She procured the aleuite revolver, her heart snagging in her throat as Kane carefully turned the door handle and then beckoned her out into a hallway of white and gold. Zaria had to admit, this part of the building was beautiful; it felt more like a king’s palace than a home for a mayor.
Nobody was visible in either direction, so she followed Kane to the left, sticking close to the wall. Had they been any louder, their footsteps would surely have echoed through the cavernous corridor, and Zaria felt far too exposed for comfort.
“Where are we going?” she hissed.
Kane turned, putting a finger to his lips, but responded nonetheless. “The meeting is taking place in the Egyptian Hall. Conveniently for us, there’s a narrow attic area surrounding the perimeter of the room. That’s where we’re headed. You’ll go to one side, I’ll go to the other.”
“We can’t go together?”
“The hall is too big. We’ll see and hear more if we’re on different sides.”
Zaria supposed that made sense, but the prospect of being alone anywhere in this building was rather daunting. “Why is it called the Egyptian Hall?”
“No idea. I expect we’ll find out.” A few paces from the end of the corridor, Kane came to a sudden halt, inclining his head at a nondescript door beneath an archway.
“There. Behind that should be another staircase leading to the attic. The banister is low and doesn’t conceal much of anything, so it’s probably best to crawl once you’re up there. Make sure nobody spots you.”
She scowled. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.” Voices emanated from the far end of the hallway, and Kane whipped his head around. “I’d better get to the other side of the building before too many more people arrive.” But he hesitated, scanning her face as if trying to commit it to memory. “Do you think you can do this?”
“Crawl around and spy on some rich old men?” Zaria said lightly. “Yes, I think it’s within my skill set.”