AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Viola’s thoughts were swirling, careening. “What do you want from me, Nibsy?” she asked, barely leashing her impatience.
“I want you to help me get the ring back,” Nibsy said. “I don’t trust Kelly to simply hand it over, as he’s promised. I expect that he’ll try to get rid of me instead. If he does, what will happen to the Strega? What will happen to the Devil’s Own?”
Viola knew exactly what would happen—her brother would take everything Dolph Saunders had built. He would bend the Devil’s Own until they broke, like he did to everything he touched.
“What do you think I can do?” Viola asked, wary.
“You can give me information,” Nibsy told her. “I need to know what he’s planning and what he’s withholding. You can help me protect the Devil’s Own from your brother’s control.”
Viola considered his proposal.
“I need your help, Viola,” Nibsy said, looking somehow younger than he had a few minutes ago. Suddenly he wasn’t the conniving snake that had greeted her but the boy she’d once known. “I know what you think of me. I know you don’t trust my motives, but the Order cannot be allowed to keep the artifact. And your brother must not get the ring instead. An item like that holds power, even for Sundren. Think of what he would do with it.”
It was far too easy to picture it. Even false magic in Paul’s hands would be a nightmare, for Viola and for the entire city. “You are asking me to betray my family—my own blood.”
“What has your blood ever done for you?” Nibsy asked. “They tossed you out and treated you like some scullery maid when you’re more powerful by far. Because they have never understood you, and they will never accept you. Not like we do. Come back to the Devil’s Own, Viola. If you’re willing to put our past differences aside and start anew, we can end the Order once and for all. We can hit them now, before they’re able to regroup for their Conclave. We can retrieve the artifact, like Dolph wanted us to, and in the process, you can save whoever it is you’ve hurt this time. Agree to pledge yourself to the Devil’s Own once again, and I will hand over Dolph’s notes. Help me, and I will help you as well.”
Nibsy extended his hand across the table, but Viola did not take it. Nibsy Lorcan was a rat, and she’d be a fool to trust him. And yet, what was her alternative? She couldn’t attack the Order alone, and she would never depend upon Paul to help her.
Viola did not sheath her knife as she considered the offer.
“We can begin to put Darrigan’s betrayal to rights,” Nibsy urged, his hand still extended. “We can avenge Dolph as well by driving Paul Kelly and his Five Pointers from the Bowery. I plan to go after the ring either way, but it would be easier together. If we were on the same side, we would have a real chance.” He paused, a dramatic beat during which the entire room seemed to hold its collective breath. “It’s what Dolph would have wanted.”
It was what Dolph would have wanted, but Viola knew that Nibsy’s words were all tricks and lies. She would be a fool to believe them without question. If she agreed to betray her brother, Nibsy would surely turn on her, like a viper turns to attack an intruder in its den. She knew that. But Jianyu’s life was in the balance, the ring was within reach, and her teeth were every bit as sharp as Nibsy Lorcan’s. If she was cunning, she would not have to battle Nibsy alone.
THE SUMMONS
1902—New York
Jack Grew strode into his uncle’s mansion feeling every minute of sleep he’d lost since the gala. The ring had been there in the ballroom the night of the gala. He’d seen it sparkling on Evelyn’s finger as she primped and teased him before the event. It had been there when she died as well, crushed beneath the great beast, and then… it was gone. In the weeks that had passed, there had been no sign of the artifact, no sign of the girl in the purple satin or what had become of her. And with Tammany still protecting Paul Kelly, Jack had no way to get to either of them. But the truth was clear—
He would find them and the ring, and when he did, he would make them all pay.
For now, though, Jack had other worries. He still wasn’t sure why he’d been summoned to his uncle’s home without warning or explanation. The Order had been quiet, and its members had been guarded after the gala. The event had been a success, of course, even with the mishap at the end. The papers had all marveled at the demonstrations, as Jack’s aunt Fanny had hoped they would when the blasted event was arranged.
And yet, after all of the press they’d received, there had been only silence on the part of the Order. No one from the Inner Circle had congratulated Jack on his victory. No one had thanked him for the service he’d provided. Especially not his uncle. It was strange, then, for Jack to suddenly find himself so abruptly summoned. And so urgently.
The messenger had tracked him down earlier that morning. Jack had been on his way out and had planned to spend the day in his warehouse by the docks, trying to make sense of the pile of metal that had once been his machine. He was beginning to understand why it hadn’t worked before. The stones he’d been using to focus the machine’s power—expensive and precious as they might have been—weren’t strong enough. He needed a stone imbued with a different type of power—a stone like the one in the ring.
The Delphi’s Tear might have evaded him for now, but it was only a matter of time, Jack reasoned, before the artifact revealed itself to him. Or before the Book showed him another way.
Jack handed his hat to the maid who answered the door. He barely spared her a glance as he brushed past, ignoring the maid’s sputtering protests, and made his own way back into the mansion, where his uncle’s office lay in burnished silence.
If he’d expected a quiet family meeting, Jack was immediately disabused of that notion the second he turned into the west hall and heard low voices coming from Morgan’s office. His steps faltered a little.
Jack allowed his hand to dip into his jacket pocket so that he could caress the cracked and worn leather of the Book’s cover. It was a reminder to himself that he would ultimately prevail. Then Jack took one of the morphine cubes from the vial he always carried and let the bitterness of the drug drain away the slight pounding behind his eyes.
In the office, Jack found three men: his uncle, the High Princept, and another older man he didn’t recognize. Each was richer and more pointless than the last. They stopped their conversation when he entered. When the maid came stumbling in directly behind Jack, apologizing and trying to explain how she had tried to stop him, Morgan himself glowered so darkly that Jack knew the girl would be working her fingers raw in the laundry before the end of the day.
“Your messenger told me that you required my presence,” Jack said, ignoring the drama his unexpected entrance had created. “He said it was urgent and insisted that I come immediately, despite my being otherwise occupied.”
Morgan harrumphed, his bulbous nose twitching with disdain. “Drinking and whoring does not constitute an occupation.”
Jack fought the urge to sneer at his uncle. So this wasn’t to be a commendation after all. He hadn’t supposed it would be, but Morgan’s words galled him nonetheless.
Still, he would not allow these men to goad him. “I would have thought I’d more than demonstrated my ability to occupy myself with something other than wine and women, Uncle,” he said dryly.
“You did indeed.” The High Princept stepped forward, placing himself between Morgan and Jack to defuse the situation. “It was an impressive display to be sure, my boy. Quite impressive.”
