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Since Dolph’s team had robbed the Order, Tammany’s patrols had been ever present in the Bowery. Buildings had burned, beer halls had been destroyed. Any business that had even a pretense of association with the old magic had become a target. But Kelly had kept his end of their bargain—at least in that regard. The Bella Strega stood intact, untouched by Tammany’s men.
“None,” James admitted. “Although I’d point out that we’ve both benefited from our little arrangement,” he said easily. “I trust you managed to enjoy yourself at the Order’s gala.”
He could tell by the slight tic in Kelly’s jaw that his remark had hit its target. After all, without the warning that James had provided, Kelly and his men would have been sitting ducks, unprepared for Jack Grew’s betrayal.
The ensuing fight should have provided the cover Logan Sullivan needed to retrieve the ring. Logan, who could find any magical object, had been a gift from James’ future self, but so far the boy had failed to live up to his potential. The ring should have been easily obtained from the gala, but Logan had still managed to return empty-handed. Somewhere in the confusion, the artifact had disappeared, and since then, Logan hadn’t been able to find any hint of it in the city. But then, Paul Kelly wasn’t confined to the city, unlike James and every other Mageus.
“I didn’t bring you here to talk about the gala,” Kelly said, brushing the topic aside with a wave of his hand.
“Why did you call me here?” James asked. “I must admit I was surprised when I got your message.”
It was a lie, of course. James had known almost immediately after Logan had returned from the gala empty-handed that he and Kelly would cross paths again—sooner rather than later. After all, they had an agreement. A partnership, of sorts. For now Kelly was useful. His men could go where James couldn’t. They had the ability to move outside the city and search for the artifacts that Darrigan had managed to snatch right out of James’ grasp, and James had something Kelly wanted—the Bella Strega and, with it, the Devil’s Own. But Kelly’s thirst for expanding his criminal empire made him vulnerable, and James had every intention of turning that against him when the time was right.
James considered Kelly. “Unless your little summons means that you have news for me?”
Kelly didn’t rush to answer at first. Instead, he took another bite of greens and chewed without so much as grimacing. It was a tactic that James understood was meant to unnerve him, but he had no intention of filling the emptiness with unnecessary chatter. He simply waited as Kelly gracefully dabbed at his lips with the napkin from his lap.
Only after Kelly folded the napkin and set it aside did he finally speak. “I’m sure you’re aware that the Order had some difficulties back in March,” Kelly said with a sardonic lift of his heavy brows—a reminder of exactly how much he knew about the Khafre Hall job. “Word is that they’ve been looking for a new location to establish their headquarters.”
“Oh?” James said, trying to cover his surprise. “They aren’t simply going to rebuild Khafre Hall?”
The journal Logan brought him had made it clear—the Order wouldn’t build a new headquarters in time for the Conclave. They would go into that gathering scattered and unorganized, weak enough that the Conclave would turn out to be a failure. They would not consolidate their power. They would not take control of the Brotherhoods, and because of that failure, the Order would never be the same. After, the journal had assured him, the Order and the other Brotherhoods would remain secretive organizations that worked in the shadows, always at odds with one another. They would still be a danger to Mageus, but after the failure of the Conclave, they would not be the threat they might have otherwise been.
“No,” Kelly said. “Word is that something changed after Morgan’s big gala.”
A lot of things had changed after the gala—including the notebook Logan had brought him. After the gala, James found that his once clear, familiar handwriting seemed to have come alive, the letters flickering like a candle about to gutter, shifting into new arrangements that he could make neither heads nor tails of. When he first received the journal, he’d thought it would be the key to his victory, but after the gala—after Logan’s failure to retrieve the ring—it had become all but worthless. Now he wondered if this was the reason.
“What do you think the cause for this change is?” James wondered.
“I can’t be sure, but they have more confidence now,” Kelly told him.
“You think they’ve retrieved an artifact,” James realized.
Kelly squinted a little at James. “I don’t know for sure, but I suspect that might be the case. So does Tammany. The Inner Circle is anxious to get into a new location, and soon.”
If the Order had managed to retrieve one of their artifacts, if they suddenly had plans for a new headquarters, it meant that something had occurred that hadn’t before. The entire future had been thrown into question. “How soon?”
Kelly took a cigarette from the gleaming case, rolling it a little between his thick fingers before placing it between his lips. “From what I hear, the Order already has a location picked out—the Fuller Building.”
James frowned. The Fuller Building seemed an odd selection. While Khafre Hall had been a stately piece of old New York architecture, steeped in tradition and secrecy, the Fuller Building was a new landmark. Located across from Madison Square Park, it was an ostentatious thing, a blade of a building that the entire city had watched rise in a surprisingly short amount of time. With its strange, spindly skeleton of steel, everyone was sure that it would fall before it was finished. It was also one of the more exciting pieces of architecture in the city. It would be an enormous structure—if it stood. It would also be a landmark, James realized.
He supposed it made a sort of sense, especially if the Order had managed to retrieve the ring at the gala. The new skyscraper was a testament to science and demonstrated man’s ability to rise up above the rabble of the streets, and it was situated in the beating heart of the modern city. Selecting the Fuller Building was tantamount to a declaration—the Order was not content to remain in the past. They were staking a new place, and they were declaring their continued importance.
“The building will be opening by the end of next month, won’t it?” James asked.
Kelly lit the cigarette and took a long drag, letting the smoke enwreathe his head like some sort of demon. “Rumor has it, the Order will be moving what was left of their treasures into their new headquarters in a matter of weeks.”
James frowned. “I hadn’t realized they had much left after the fire.” His mind was already whirling with the implications. Dolph had been so focused on the Book and the artifacts, could he have missed that the Order had something else of value?
“They have a couple of wagonloads, apparently,” Kelly told him. “From what I’ve been able to learn, they’ve been storing them somewhere in Brooklyn—outside the Brink. Originally, they were going to rebuild Khafre Hall, but what happened at the gala made them anxious to move into their new headquarters and reestablish themselves as a force to be reckoned with in the city now, before their Conclave at the end of the year.”
“That would be unfortunate for both of us,” James said. “But perhaps it’s also an opportunity?”
“I agree,” Kelly told him. “Which is why I called you here. I want the Devil’s Own on board.”
“Certainly your Five Pointers can take care of a few wagons of goods,” James said, the implication clear.
“You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight, Lorcan, and the Order has weapons far beyond what my boys are equipped to handle.”
