Page 70 of Hawk & Sparrow

Richard tapped a finger against the table. “A ruby this size is rare in our market. We usually deal in passable knockoffs. A piece like this one would attract serious attention, too much attention for my preference.” He slid the brooch back toward her. “My advice? Take that back to your employer before she notices it’s missing.”

“But—”

“Have a good night.” Without another word, Richard stood. “And, if your business with the Rousers is complete, please consider vacating the table. We’ve got people waiting.”

Vesper marched back up Pike Lane, her fists curled and her jaw clenched.

Maximilian kept in step with her, though she was further peeved to note in her periphery that he didn’t have to try very hard. They made it one block before he broke the silence.

“At least we know one thing,” he offered. “The Rousers knew Francis. That Richard guy called him Frankie.”

“They’re hiding something,” Vesper murmured. “And whatever it is, the information’s more valuable than I anticipated. You can be sure I intend to—” She looked over her shoulder, then stopped. Maximilian did too.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Vesper kept walking, albeit slightly faster. “I just thought I heard something.” They walked for another five minutes before she stopped again. Now she was certain. The skinny man several paces behind them had stayed with them for the last two blocks. She tensed.

“Maximilian,” she whispered. “Listen to me very closely.”

“What is it?”

“I think our new friends at Thally’s Pub are escorting us off their turf,” she said softly. In an even lower voice, she added, “We’re being followed. Don’t look.”

Maximilian swore. “What do we do?”

“There’s an alley up ahead,” she said. “We’re going to turn into it. If they follow us in, we’ll have the advantage.” She slipped the brooch into his hand. “Use sorcery if you have to.”

Maximilian gave a stiff nod. They were drawing closer to the alley Vesper indicated. Behind them, she could still hear a lone set of footsteps. They reached the narrow alley, and then abruptly Vesper veered to the left, plunging herself into darkness. Maximilian followed suit, pivoting so that he faced the alley’s opening, poised and ready. The seconds seemed to pass like hours as they waited. Vesper heard her own heart thundering in her chest as the footsteps drew closer, became louder. She braced herself as a shadow appeared in the alley, but then the skinny man just kept walking. He didn’t even look in their direction. She exhaled.

“Thank God.” Maximilian stood again once the man was gone. He combed his hands through his dark curls, then smiled. “Despite my urban-distress attire, I was in no mood for a bout of fisticuffs tonight.”

“Let’s go.” Vesper pointed behind them. She didn’t want to risk being followed again. They were almost at the other end of the alley when a muscular man stepped out from the shadows. Vesper recognized one of the men from the pub at the same time she heard a low, melodic laugh. Panic arrowed through her as she caught the glint of a golden tooth. Richard leaned against the wall.

“I think you’d better come with us.”

TWENTY-THREE

SATURDAY, 19TH OF NOVEMBER—8:02 P.M.

One of the Thally Rousers held her upper arm in a viselike grip; Maximilian was being frog-marched beside her, held by a second Rouser. Richard was walking ahead of them, like a wolf leading his pack. He hadn’t looked back or addressed them at all since ordering the men to grab them.

The struggle itself had been quick. Vesper had turned to Maximilian, hoping he’d had time to mutter an incantation, but it seemed this wasn’t Richard’s first time dealing with sorcerers. One of the muscled Rousers—faster on his feet than he looked—punched Maximilian in the gut before he could react. The sorcerer had doubled over and wheezed, and Vesper had drawn in a sharp breath. She watched with dismay as the brooch slipped from Maximilian’s hands. Richard had picked it up, smiling.

“If he starts an incantation, gag him,” he’d said calmly, tucking the brooch into his own pocket. He’d turned to his cronies then. “Check them both, and make sure they don’t have any more gifts for us.”

The warehouse they were approaching looked derelict, as though it hadn’t been occupied in years. Vesper tried to temper her rising fear as Richard and the two Rousers led them toward it. Once inside, they were ushered down a short hall and into an empty room on the first floor. Richard folded his hands as though in prayer before he looked between them.

“Now,” he murmured. “The two of you have exactly thirty seconds to tell me what you were really doing in the pub.” His dark eyes glinted. “And if I were you, I’d talk fast.”

“We didn’t come here to cause any trouble,” Vesper said quickly.

Richard cocked his head. “I’ve never seen either of you in the pub before. And he”—he nodded toward Max—“is clearly not working class.”

It was Vesper’s turn to frown. Urban distress, indeed.

“You didn’t wander into a pub owned by a gang by accident,” Richard went on. “Either you’re crooks, or you’re cops.”

Vesper swallowed hard, trying to sound confident. “We’re not with the police.”