by April White
“In a brick warehouse by the river, between Lambeth and Vauxhall bridges. It’s four stories tall, but the big, arched windows on the lower floors don’t look like they open.”
“Two floors of arched windows?”
I nodded.
“I know that place. Been there with the lads.” His expression darkened and he studied Charlie for a moment. “Lizzer’ll kill me if he spots me in the next coupla days. I need ta go, ri’? It’ll keep ye safer if they don’ spot me.”
“Ye can do that? Ye can take someone with ye?” Charlie’s eyes were on mine.
“Yeah. I’ve never taken someone from the past forward before, but my mom did it when she was pregnant with me, so I think it can be done.”
She looked at Ringo with an odd expression on her face. “Ye have to go, of course. And I was fine before I came here, I’ll be right enough when yer gone.”
A flash of hurt in Ringo’s eyes was gone so fast she didn’t see it. But I did. “Charlie?” She turned reluctant eyes to me. “I know what it feels like to be the one left behind. It hurts, and you get mad to cover up the neediness you promised yourself you’d never feel.” Something shifted in her gaze. Opened. “I’ll bring him back to you, I promise.”
She didn’t say anything, just nodded. I thought she might be silent so he couldn’t hear her fear. But Ringo spoke to her in a voice that broke a little. “Ye ha’ food and coal fer a fortnight, and Gosford’ll help ye if you need it.” He touched her arm softly, then went to a drawer and slid some metal tools from it into his pocket. And when his expression was carefully neutral again he finally looked at me. “Ready.”
Thieving
Ringo held my hand tightly as we Clocked, and it comforted me as much as it did him. I might have been breaking an unwritten rule of time travel by bringing him forward, but following rules wasn’t really my strong suit anyway. I was starting to get better at not puking with every trip, but I could tell Ringo was going to need a minute. He clutched a tree for support as he struggled to keep down his dinner, and when he looked up, Archer was standing in front of him.
“Old friend.” Archer’s voice was full of emotion as he looked at the former street urchin and thief who had become like a brother to both of us.
Ringo stared in surprise at the hundred-and-fifty-year-old Vampire in front of him. “God, ye haven’t aged a day, have ye?” He looked closer. “Ye’ve changed though. Seen things, I guess.”
Archer and Ringo clasped each other in a warm embrace. Archer held on to Ringo’s shoulders and looked at him, almost like a father would look at a son. “How is it you already look a man?”
Ringo’s eyes held Archer’s. “I reckon I’ve seen things too.”
I couldn’t explain why their reunion was so moving to me. Maybe it just felt like the band was back together, but in any case, I got all warm and fuzzy seeing them like this.
Archer turned his gaze to me then, gathered me in his arms, and gave me one of those kisses that melted all the purple polish off my toenails. “Thank you for coming back safely.”
I smiled. “Well unsafely just wouldn’t do, now, would it?”
He burst out laughing at the expression of shock on Ringo’s face. “Don’t worry, her virtue is still intact.”
I caught a glimpse of the man Ringo might be when he was fifty as he gathered himself up and said stuffily, “’Ow anything can be left of it after that kiss, I don’t know.”
Impulsively, I kissed my friend on the cheek, and it made him blush. “Come on, we have to go.”
We didn’t give Ringo time to do more than suck in his breath at the 21st century as we ran back to the warehouse. “Bloody ‘ell!” He said it under his breath, but I knew the car had nearly scared the poop out of him. I suppressed a giggle as he leapt backwards off a grate when a tube train passed beneath us. He was keeping it together way better than I would have, but he was a professional, here to do a job, and the questions could wait.
I didn’t spot our friends when we got back to the warehouse, but I could feel Tom close by. They materialized from the doorway of a building across the street, and I gestured toward the back of the warehouse. A few moments later, Tom, Ava, Adam, and Alex joined us.
There was frank curiosity in everyone’s gazes as they caught sight of Ringo, and for his part, he was in total survivor mode. I recognized it from my own repertoire – size people up in an instant, but never let them catch you do it. I could see the wheels turning as he figured out who was who from my previous descriptions.
“You guys, this is Ringo.” I spoke in a whisper and was about to launch into individual introductions when Ringo stuck out his hand to Adam.
“Yer Adam. And this is yer twin, Ava? It’s good to finally meet ye.” They were surprised at his confidence, but shook his hand gamely before he turned to Alex.
“Ye must be Alexandra. I’m Ringo.”
Okay, that one surprised me. I didn’t think I’d ever described Alex more than just in passing, but he killed it with his next introduction.
“And yer…Tom? Cousin to the twins, no?
I stared at Ringo. “How did you know them?”
Ringo smiled, and I could tell he liked being smarter than me. “The twins were easy. Ye said Adam was big and Ava had the look of a fairy.” He shrugged as if it was all self-explanatory. “And I figured ye wouldn’t be here thievin’ with aught but good friends.”
“But Alex and Tom? I didn’t tell you about them.”
“Yes, ye did. Ye said Connor and Logan had an exotic half-sister whose mother was a famous ballet dancer.” He shrugged again. “Ye’d have to be blind not to see the dancer here.”
He turned to Tom. “And Tom here doesn’t flinch when ‘e sees Archer. The others try not to, but it’s still there. So ‘e either doesn’t know ‘im and I’ve given up the game, or ‘e’s the bloke ye went back to the Cotton Wharf Fire wi’, and that makes ‘im Tom Landers.”
“Good God, man, did she quiz you on us before you came?” Adam was impressed, and I could see he’d finally recovered from his Clocking nightmare.
Ringo smiled. “Nah, I’ve just been waitin’ to meet ye all. I’m only sorry Connor’s not here with ye.”
That brought me right back to our purpose. “Right. There’s only a couple hours before dawn, and we need to get that book. You know this building, Ringo?”
He looked up past the electrical box I’d nearly fallen from an hour before. “That’s new. Takes all the fun out of it, that does.”
I glared at him, only half-joking. “Okay, Keys. You’re on then.”
Ringo narrowed his eyes at me. “I can get in, but no one else is comin’ wi’ me. So ye’d best describe what yer lookin’ for.”
“He’s right. The alarm system’s sophisticated and the book is portable.” Archer sounded as unhappy with the realization as I was. It’s one thing to ask him to open the door, it’s another thing entirely to ask him to steal it for us.
Ava stepped forward and reached toward Ringo. “Take my hand. I can show you.”
He did, and only the slightest widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise at the vision she sent him. That whole touch thing the Seers had going on was very cool, but until tonight I hadn’t known it was more common than just passing dreams along. It was a conversation I hoped to have in more detail with Ava when we got through this.
“Right. Green leather binding. Tooled scrollwork on the cover. Got it.”
I had a bad feeling in my gut, and I turned to Archer. “I’m recovered enough. I want to go with him.” My voice was low enough that no one else but Ringo heard me. Archer’s expression was solemn, then he locked eyes with Ringo.
“You can show her the hand and footholds?”
Ringo studied the side of the building. “She can do it on ‘er own, but yeah, I’ll show ‘er.”
Ava caught wind of our conversation and looked grim. “I still don’t like it, Saira. Someone gets hurt.”
“But it’s different now that Ringo�
��s here, right?
She nodded slowly. “It’s different.” When she didn’t say anything else I scampered up to the top of the electrical box. “Whistle if someone comes, okay?”
Ringo joined me up there, and I could see Adam directing the others toward hiding spots around the building. Good, we’d have lookouts. Archer was the only one still standing under the electrical box, and I wasn’t sure he was going to move at all. Ringo looked at me with a grin.
“Ye up for it?”
I flexed my shoulder out of habit, and Ringo squinted. “Still hurt or just testing it?”
“How … ? Never mind. You’re worse than the Seers. I’m fine.”
“Good. I’ll race ye.” Ringo scampered up the side of the brick building as if it was a jungle gym. Instantly I could see where I’d gotten my first handhold wrong, and when I followed his lead my confidence snapped back into place. I was really glad he was doing the climb with me.
At the first window ledge we paused for a breath. I looked out at the view and saw there was a car park the next lot over. It was the high concrete building that had seemed unscalable from the ground. The streets were deserted and London felt almost silent.
“It’s so big and bright.” I looked over at the awe in Ringo’s voice. He was gazing out over the view with a wondrous expression on his face and awe in his eyes. I nudged him to keep climbing.
“Come on. Let’s see what else I can impress you with.”
He started up the next piece of wall, which was easier than the last because of the frame of brick that surrounded the half-moon window. We didn’t stop at the second ledge but kept climbing. The roof was paneled almost completely in industrial skylights, and Ringo knew right where to find the latch to open one pane. The creak was from a bad gothic movie and I winced at the noise, but the room below us was dark. I hoped there weren’t any overnight tenants in the place, or we were screwed.
Ringo went first, and I watched how he dropped down to a cross-beam and then tight-rope-walked across. Looked easy enough, as long as my balance wasn’t still whacked from the multi-person Clock. Ringo must have felt me hesitate because he came back across and whispered up to me. “You’re tall enough. It’s only a couple inches if you hang.”
Okay, I could do that. Not making it wasn’t an option. So I pulled my sleeves down over my palms to avoid cuts from the metal window frame and lowered my body down.
“Right then, I’ve got ye.” Ringo’s whisper was only a little louder than air, but I could feel his presence in front of me. So I let go. Strong hands steadied my shoulders lightly and then were gone almost immediately. I appreciated that. It didn’t feel so much like I had to be helped, and my legs were solid enough I could follow him across the beam. Then it was an easy climb down the wall to the top floor. So much light came in through the skylights we didn’t need to mess with anything electric.
Ringo signaled toward the stairs, and we descended another floor. Both of us kept to the outside of the wooden steps, away from the creakiest boards, and within a few minutes he had jimmied the lock on the front office where the arched windows overlooked the river.
“It’s either this or the one next door.” Ringo moved through the office with the certainty of a practiced thief, looking through desk drawers and behind paintings for a hiding spot. But I knew Seth Walters, and if this was his office there’s no way he would have hidden the book. So I walked straight over to the bookcase and opened the glass front. There, on display for everyone to see, was Bishop Wilder’s genealogy with its finely tooled green leather binding. The arrogance of the man would have been astounding if I hadn’t expected it.
“Got it. Let’s go.”
Ringo poked his head up from under the massive desk and flashed me a grin. “Look what I found.”
He held up a man’s gold ring, set with a blood-red ruby the size of a beetle.
“Put it back!” My whisper was almost a shriek. Something about that ring screamed power, and I wanted nothing to do with it.
“Why?”
“It’s bad enough we’re taking the book. If that went missing too our lives would be worth exactly crap.”
Ringo looked speculatively at the gemstone winking in his hand. “He’s that bad, huh?”
“Slick and Wilder are cut from the same piece of jagged rock.” I hadn’t called Seth Walters ‘Slick’ in a long time, but his office felt as slimy as he was, and it fit frighteningly well.
Ringo’s expression was serious. “Right.” He popped back under the desk and emerged, dusting himself off, then held his hand out for the genealogy and shoved it in the front of his waistband under his sweater. “We’re off.”
Once Ringo was back through the skylight he leaned in and hauled me up until I could pull myself out. He was just so elastic. I had to step up my own game to stay with him.
When we were back out on the roof, Ringo tensed. I instantly froze in place and listened. A scuffing sound on the pavement. Not damning by itself, but since my friends had all hidden themselves until we returned, it was worth investigating. We crept to the front edge of the building and dropped to our stomachs to look down. What we saw wasn’t good.
Seth and four goons were just entering the building. It would take them about three minutes to get up to Seth’s office, and if he was as observant as I thought he was, about thirty seconds to realize the book was gone. Three and a half minutes to get off the roof and away before someone came after us. Assuming they didn’t post a guard outside the building.
We looked at each other with grim expressions, then went for it. We clung to the edges of the roof as we inched around to the back of the building. I only breathed again when we were down at the third floor window ledge. The alley below was too silent and it made me jumpy. And jumpy wasn’t good for scaling sheer brick walls. At night. With no ropes, light, or safety net. I didn’t look down.
Ringo got my attention with his little ‘chhhtttt’ sound. More effective than a shout for pushing me out of my head. He indicated with sign language that he was going to drop down to the electrical box first, and that I should wait five seconds before doing the same. He gave me a plan, and finally the running dialogue of death and destruction in my brain shut up.
I concentrated on following Ringo’s hand and foot placement exactly, and in barely thirty seconds he dropped quietly to the electrical box. The alley remained silent as I counted to five, but I almost shattered eardrums when I dropped into an iron grip. It was Archer, and I just barely restrained myself from reflexively slugging him. He whispered in my ear that the others had slipped across the wall into the parking garage and were waiting for us to join them.
Which was all well and good, except a hamburger-nosed goon chose just that moment to burst out of the back door into the alley.
Archer’s arm darted out to grab Ringo by the collar before his feet left the top of the electrical box. Hamburger-Nose was a Monger, as evidenced by my instant fight or flight reaction to his presence. Of course the fact that he was holding a knife didn’t really help matters either. But still, it was three to one, and since one of our three was actually immortal, our odds didn’t suck.
While Archer and Ringo were shooting rapid-fire hand signals to each other about how they were going to take Hamburger-Nose out, I did some plotting of my own. Being a chick is an occasional disadvantage, but being an armed chick gave me back a little edge. And I had spotted a paper-bag-wrapped wine bottle in the alley across from where we crouched on the electrical box.
Archer caught my eyes and said very clearly in his silent way, ‘stay here.’ Of course I nodded, and of course I had no intention of staying out of the way while my two favorite people got into a fight with a hamburger-nosed Monger piece of trash.
So, the moment Archer and Ringo flew down off the electrical box to tackle Hamburger-Nose, I took my own flying leap across the alley to the wino-trash. And in the same exact moment that I smashed the bottom of the bottle off on the brick wall, Slick and three other goons erup
ted from the building. The odds were most definitely not in our favor.
Archer was angry. Very angry. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed at me for jumping down or at the two guys he threw punches at as he dodged their knives. Ringo was doing a fair job with Hamburger-Nose, but that left another goon and Seth Walters with nothing to do but cause trouble.
So I decided to cause it first. “Help! Police! Heeeellllp!!!!”
I seriously had never called for help in my life, but if nothing else, my fishwife screeching caused Beefy, the bigger goon fighting with Archer, to pause long enough to get a smash in the nose from an iron fist.
“Saira! Get out of here!” Archer’s voice was a feral growl, and if I had been the least bit intimidated by him I would have run for my life.
“I’m not leaving you.”
I held my broken bottle out in front of me like a knife and swung it just wildly enough to keep the ferrety goon by Seth at arm’s length. There was a gleam in Seth’s eyes, manic or crazy or just plain enjoying himself, and I didn’t like it. Not even a little bit. Because it was directed at me.
“Someone taught you to glass, I see. I suppose I should expect a little gangster from you, considering where you come from.” I would never get used to the oil slick that spewed from Seth Walters’ mouth every time he opened it, and I shuddered. Ferret dodged in to grab the bottle from me, but I slashed it quickly and he jumped back out of range before it cut him. He was clearly no stranger to glassing, himself.
“I assume you have my book?” Seth was starting to circle me while Ferret kept me busy.
“You read? I didn’t think you knew how.” A flicker of annoyance crossed his features, and I knew I was playing with fire. Piss him off and he’d be even more dangerous. But piss him off enough and maybe he’d make a mistake. I struggled to keep my eyes on him and not let them dart toward Ringo. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but I didn’t make the mistake of underestimating Seth Walters anymore. Last time I did that, someone got shot.