“I know.” She shut her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. “I appreciate it, Marc. I really do. But no knight in shining armor is going to save me. I have to save myself.”
He brushed a swift kiss to her temple. “Get some sleep. It’s a good thing the theater’s dark tomorrow. You’re looking a bit peaked.” When she glared at him again, he laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “Good night, ’Nessa.”
“Good night.” She gave him a grudging smile. For all his teasing, she knew he had her best interests at heart. As soon as he left the room, she picked up the yellow rose she’d tossed aside and placed it carefully in a cut-glass vase with two others from her mysterious admirer.
* * * *
ADRIAN LEAPED FROMthe roof of Hawley’s Gentlemen’s Club, wincing as a hail of gunfire erupted from the street below. He landed hard on a sloping overhang of the building next door, scrambling to gain his footing without dropping the small boy in his arms. He pressed his palm to the sharp prick of pain in his left thigh and felt the wetness of his own blood.
The bastards had shot him!
Flames swept across the club’s facade, temporarily distracting the men who’d given chase. Adrian gazed at the brilliant, dangerous light, both fascinated and terrified, as always. His brothers did not understand his penchant for using fire to destroy these hellholes, but how could they? He didn’t understand it himself.
Satisfaction burned bright within him as he viewed the destruction he’d wrought. Since he’d set the fire in the attic, everyone had been able to get out safely, but for a few nights, at least, the scum who frequented the club would not be able to slake their lust on children.
Tightening his hold on the boy he’d rescued from that prison, he concentrated on his escape, more than a bit disturbed by the fact that his prey seemed to have been ready for him this time. He’d have to figure out how later. For now, the only thing that mattered was getting the boy to safety.
The child remained eerily quiet as Adrian leaped from roof to roof. Despite Adrian’s assurances, he doubted the boy realized he’d been rescued, enduring the situation with a blank-eyed acceptance that broke what remained of Adrian’s heart.
Adrian had managed to put no more than half a dozen blocks between himself and the club when the sounds of pursuit intensified. He paused for a moment in the shadow of a chimney, breathing heavily with pain and exhaustion as he weighed his options.
His leg ached unbearably, and dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. God knew how much blood he’d lost. He needed a place to lie low until his pursuers lost interest. As he took stock of his surroundings, a ludicrous idea took root in his mind.
Vanessa Bourke lived a few streets over, in a once-opulent mansion that had seen its better days and had been split into half a dozen flats. He’d made it his business to know, even though he’d assumed the information would prove useless.
What would she do if he were to show up uninvited, dressed as Prometheus? Would she turn him away, or would she take him in and bandage his wound? Could he use the child to gain her trust? He would never make it to Brookhaven Orphanage in his current condition.
Telling himself he had no other choice, he headed toward Miss Bourke’s flat.
* * * *
ACLAMOR AT THE WINDOWwoke Vanessa from a deep sleep. She sat straight up in bed, heart hammering in her chest as she peered through the darkness toward the source of the sound. She’d left her window cracked in an attempt to catch a cooling breeze, but now it was fully open, the curtains fluttering in the wind.
At the foot of her bed, she sensed a presence, a dark shape melding with the shadows. “Is someone there?” Her voice trembled with fear, and she edged toward her nightstand, where she kept a small, loaded pistol.
The shadow moved, stepping forward into a faint patch of moonlight. “Shhh,” a deep male voice whispered. “I won’t hurt you.”
A sudden commotion sounded in the alley beneath the window as a group of men thundered through the usually quiet neighborhood. Dogs howled as sharp voices barked orders down below.
They’re looking for this man, who has taken refuge in my room.
A new rush of fear washed through her. What sort of criminal was he? And more importantly, what did he want with her?
Tension spiraled between them as the shouts continued, then slowly faded off into the distance.
After what seemed an eternity, the stranger gave a weary-sounding sigh and then abruptly struck a match, casting a small puddle of light as he looked around. “Thank you,” he murmured, as he flicked on the gas lights and put out the match. “If you would have screamed, they’d have caught us.”
Us?She gave another nervous glance around the room, but he appeared to be alone. He turned toward her, and she got her first glimpse of the intruder. She drew in a sharp breath because his features were hidden by a fanciful mask of sparkling ivory and bone. The tall, broad-shouldered man wore a crimson cape, the deep color of blood.
Prometheus.She recognized the fearsome bandit from the newspaper sketches. He’d burned down dozens of brothels and rescued children who’d been pressed to work in them against their will. Though the police wanted nothing more than to capture him, he’d become a hero to the people.
She crossed her arms over her chest, very aware of her state of undress. “They’re gone now.”
“I’ll leave as soon as it’s safe,” he assured her. “In the meantime, do you mind if I lay the child down?” He swept back his cloak, revealing a young boy asleep in his arms.
The child was as beautiful as an angel, with dark, curly hair. He couldn’t have been more than six or seven. Her stomach turned at the thought of what had been done to the poor boy. Giving a jerky nod, she scooted over to make room. “Put him here,” she whispered.
Prometheus tenderly lowered the child to the bed, then returned his attention to Vanessa. “Do you have anything I can use for a bandage?”
