by Rebecca King
Toby looked warily back at him. For a moment he didn’t speak. It was clear that he was deciding whether to tell him. “Just that Sayers is behind the big gang, but it is quiet like. Not many people want to talk about him.”
“Don’t ask too many questions and get yourself into trouble, Toby,” Luke warned.
“I ain’t. My mates are asking round too.”
“Good. Do you know where Sayers’ patch is? I heard it was down the embankment in a warehouse down there. It used to be a coal store?”
Toby shrugged. “I dunno. It ain’t my patch so don’t go down there. I ain’t gonna do it neither. Now are you gonna give me a penny and stick to your side of the bargain?”
Luke handed Toby two pennies and dug deep in the pocket of his own cloak for two pies, and a loaf of bread. Once he had handed them over, he watched Toby stuff them into his pockets, but hesitate for a moment. He glanced back at Luke. There was something in his eyes that warned Luke he wasn’t going to like what Toby was about to tell him.
“You know you were followed here don’cha?” he whispered quietly.
“Where?” Luke squatted down so he could whisper.
“He is in the alley across the road. A tallish fella about her size, but skinnier. I think he was the man from the woods in the park.”
“What’s he wearing?”
“Black. Summat about ‘im that’s trouble if’n you ask me,” Toby warned knowledgeably, his young face stern.
Luke nodded. “Does your patch stretch into Camden?”
Toby frowned. “It can do. As long as I get paid I don’t care where I go.”
“Then keep an eye on this property for me.” Luke reeled off Poppy’s address, but whispered it into Toby’s ear so nobody could overhear. “Tell me who comes and goes. I don’t need to know when they leave or arrive. I just need to know how many people are there, men or women, and ages, that kind of thing. I will give you two more pennies for your time today. Also, keep an ear to the ground. See if anyone is fencing high end goods in pawn shops. In particular, I am looking for a very expensive painting.”
“There are rumours already,” Toby whispered. “I overheard Freddie moaning that the price of his wares has gone down ‘cos the shop has taken a load of heavy stuff. We have been told to take more to make up the difference.”
“Freddie is your boss.” It wasn’t a question. Luke watched Toby hesitate. “Give me his surname, Toby. I am not going to hurt him. I just need to know where to find him if I need to.”
“Why?”
“I need to know if Freddie has connections to Sayers.” He watched Toby closely, but the boy only frowned before he shook his head. “Freddie hates Sayers. He wouldn’t work for him. Freddie is Lucy’s cousin. He is a right thug but he ain’t no gangster. Sayers runs the big gang that’s taken over. It’s pushing us all to go further and further out and stops us getting as much as we should.”
“You need these then,” Luke replied, holding out a couple of apples and one shilling. “Take some to Lucy too. Meantime, if there is anything else just come to see me.” He gave the boy the address for the safe house. “Can you remember that?”
Toby rolled his eyes but nodded.
“I will see you here day after tomorrow if I don’t see you before then, but make sure you aren’t followed.” He ruffled the boy’s hair and watched the lad melt back into the shadows as silently as he arrived.
Poppy watched the mist swallow the boy up and shivered once silence settled over them. They could ostensibly be the only people in London because not even distant sounds of life could be heard through the deafening smog.
“Can we go back now?” she whispered with a sniff. She was frozen, but it was more from what she had just witnessed than the chill in the air.
“Yes, let’s go,” Luke replied.
He captured her hand in his and tugged her out into the street. As he led the way his senses were tuned to the area around them for any sign of danger that might lurk in the shadows. Something was wrong he just knew it.
“I hate this,” she whispered when she stumbled off a kerb and fell against him.
“It won’t take us long to get back because we haven’t gone far.”
“How can you tell where we are?” She couldn’t see anything except kerbs, railings, and the occasional glow of a street lamp. Apart from that there was nothing but smog. It was unnerving. It was creepy. It terrified her to the point that she couldn’t wait to get out of it.
“I know,” Luke replied obliquely.
He didn’t say anything else because he didn’t want their conversation to act as a beacon for anyone following them. He put a cautionary finger to his lips to warn her to remain quiet. Because of the risk of frightening her, he didn’t tell her someone was following. Whether they posed a risk or not remained to be seen. At the moment, getting her out of the smog was his priority, not someone else who happened to be out walking.
The street was so still, so silent, that it almost felt as though it was waiting for something. She glanced about nervously and held the folds of her cloak closed tightly. Although she tried to keep herself calm, her eyes darted from one shadow to another. She tried to reassure herself that they would soon be at the house where it was warm, dry, and they were at least able to see. Unfortunately, matters were swiftly taken out of his hands with a brutality that shocked them both.
She didn’t get the time to scream before a figure in black suddenly lunged out of the smog and came straight at them. It wasn’t Luke the man threw himself at, it was her. She caught sight of the sudden flash of wild eyes seconds before she felt her cloak being tugged violently.
“Get off me,” she screamed. She squirmed against the tight hold the attacker had on her cloak that threatened to drag her into the smog. “Luke,” she cried.
She smacked at the man’s hand to get him to let go. She dragged her feet and leaned backward but was still propelled away from Luke’s reassuring bulk. The attacker’s face was mere inches away from hers, but she could see nothing beneath the large cap that covered his face in shadows. She could, however, feel his warm, fetid breath on her cheek, and hear his snorts as he tried to drag her with him into the darkness.
“Get away from her,” Luke snarled, and launched himself at her attacker’s back. He had seen enough to suspect that his was no ordinary mugger out for her money. This assailant was trying to get her alone. Only vaguely aware that the man had dropped something, Luke began to rain blows down on the attacker’s head and shoulders with such force that it broke the man’s hold on Poppy.
For several moments nothing but the sound of fists meeting flesh and loud grunts could be heard in the night. Pain exploded in his ribs when the attacker landed a punch but Luke gritted his teeth and redoubled his efforts to subdue the man before he launched himself at Poppy again. Unfortunately, he was slightly hindered by his need to keep one eye on Poppy, just in case the man had an accomplice somewhere. With only partial concentration, he was vulnerable to being hit more than he usually would be, and was subjected to several bruising blows that took his breath. When a well-aimed punch landed on his jaw, stars exploded behind his eyes. He staggered backward with a curse, but didn’t allow the man to gain the advantage. One booted foot was all it took in the attacker’s midriff to double him over and give Luke the advantage he needed. Once the man had been subdued by one arm twisted painfully up his back, Luke hauled him around so he could look at his face, but there was not enough light to know if he recognised him or not.
“What do you want with her?” Luke growled.
“Get off me,” the man gasped in a voice full of desperation. “It is her I want, not you.”
Luke frowned at the almost child-like tone of the man’s voice. Before he could demand some answers, the attacker suddenly began to kick and squirm again. The two men wrestled for supremacy for several moments. It was only when Luke drew a wicked looking gun out of his cloak that the attacker stopped, stared at it, then him, and then suddenly dro
pped limply to the floor. Luke was forced to release him or fall over himself when the man’s weight threatened to unbalance him. It was enough to give the attacker the opportunity to break free and, in an instant, he scrambled back onto his feet and disappeared into the smog as quickly as he had appeared.
“Are you all right?” Luke demanded. He scoured her from head to foot for signs of injury but couldn’t see much in the gloom.
“Are you?” Poppy asked. “He hurt you,” she added, more shaken than she cared to admit.
She had never witnessed anything so brutal in her life and didn’t quite know how to work around the fear that threatened to overwhelm her.
“Keep an eye out for anyone else,” he ordered. “We are leaving. Now.”
More focused on the danger they were in than the blood trickling steadily from the cuts on his face, or the pain in his ribs where the man had landed far more blows than he was happy with, Luke turned her around and hurried her toward the safe house.
“T-t-the g-gun,” she stammered.
“I need it,” he replied.
He made no attempt to re-pocket it and left it visible as he marched her to safety. He didn’t wait to hear if she had anything else to say, merely placed a hand in the middle of her back and propelled her ahead of him. Once they were on their way, he paused long enough to pick something up off the floor, and pocketed it to take a look at later.
Poppy had little choice but to do as she was told and remained quiet as she followed the directions Luke gave her. Her thoughts were locked very firmly on what had just happened. Whoever the attacker was, wherever he had come from, whatever he was up to, whatever he wanted with her, one thing was abundantly clear: he was watching her. Not just watching her but following her too. She went cold; then hot. She wanted to run, but she also wanted to demand some answers. At the moment, she needed the man walking along right behind her more than anything else in the world, and not just because she desired him.
Luke studied the smog carefully, determined not to be caught out a second time. His fingers clenched around the weapon in his hand. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before the ghostly sight of the safe house appeared out of the mist. What had just happened tonight had changed everything, and it wasn’t for the better. As a result, he was angry, at Clarence, at Sayers, at the unknown attacker. The only good thing to come out of this evening was Poppy’s innocence being proven. It was an immense relief, but that now left him with another set of problems the likes of which he would think about once they were safe. He felt fairly confident they weren’t being followed, but then someone must be watching the house because otherwise they had no way of knowing Luke and Poppy had even left it.
That led Luke to consider another, potentially more disturbing problem: just how much of his conversation with Toby had the man heard, and just how much danger was Toby now in?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Once inside the safe house Luke slammed the door closed, bolted it and then drew the shutters and the curtains closed. Once several candles had been lit, he checked the rest of the house was secure before he returned to the kitchen to a clearly terrified Poppy
“Are you all right?” he demanded. He cursed at the sight of the tears on her cheeks and wished now that he hadn’t taken the risk of taking her outside in the first place. He knew now that he should have just sent Marcus meet with Toby, drop off the food and pennies, and arrange another meeting for tomorrow morning.
Poppy watched his lips move, but the words didn’t register on her. She stared blankly at him for a moment and looked down at herself. It was then that she noticed something was wrong with her cloak. Her heart pounded as she stared and stared while her mind struggle to comprehend what she was seeing.
“What is it?” Luke demanded. His heart flipped when he realised what she was showing him. “Poppy, did he hurt you?” he demanded sharply. “Did he hurt you?” he demanded more loudly when she didn’t answer him. He grabbed her shoulders to give her a swift shake to snap her out of her daze. When she still didn’t answer him he yanked open the folds of the cloak so he could see beneath.
“I am not hurt,” she whispered. She just couldn’t tear her gaze away from the folds of the material.
Luke couldn’t think of anything to say, so hauled her into his arms and held her tightly against him where he knew she was safe.
Poppy leaned against him for several moments and allowed the tears to fall. Her fear began to subside now they were in the safety of the house, and she was in the comfort of his strong arms. She was intensely grateful he was there because she knew now that she would never be able to cope with life in London on her own. After what had happened to her in the last several horrifying days she knew she would be dead in a gutter if it wasn’t for the man who was holding her so tightly it was as though his life depended upon her being there. She couldn’t help herself; she slid her arms around him and returned his embrace just as tightly, or tried to.
When she jostled his ribs he sucked in a pained breath and eased back when stars began to dance in his eyes again.
“He hurt you,” she whispered. She leaned back to study the cuts on his face. She touched what looked like the beginnings of a bruise beside his mouth with gentle fingers and realised then that he must be in considerable pain. “Let me clean you up.”
“I am fine,” Luke growled. Before she could move he tugged her back into his arms. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and simply savoured the feel of her for several moments. His bruises could wait right now. Nothing was more important than this moment. His gaze fell to the frenzied cuts on the cloak. He knew now that his life would never be the same.
“Poppy, just what in the hell have you gotten yourself into?” he growled.
Poppy looked up at him. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on,” she whispered.
“Did he hurt you?” he demanded again, his voice husky with a mixture of fear and raw need. “Are you sure you are not hurt?”
Thankfully, the cloak seemed to have received the worst of the trauma. He forced himself to study the cuts in the material again, but the mere sight of the violence made him feel sick.
Poppy shook her head, unable to speak.
“God, Poppy,” he murmured. Before she could object he hauled her toward him and settled a kiss on her lips that seared them both.
Her senses swam. Her breath locked in her throat. She couldn’t think; couldn’t speak. The jolt of awareness that swept through her left her clinging on to him for dear life. Everything was forgotten; her bags, where they were, Clarence, his bruises, what had just happened. Nothing else mattered except Luke, who was laying claim to her in a way that she had never considered possible. It didn’t bother her that she was letting him. She was ensnared by the force of desire that held them together and returned his caresses with equal fervour. She didn’t know where to touch him though. His ribs clearly hurt, and his face was covered in cuts and bruises that needed to be seen to. With that in mind she slid her fingers into his soft hair and held on for dear life while she gave herself over to the life-reaffirming emotions that coursed through her. His lips slid against hers and increased in pressure until she opened to him. Her gasp was swallowed. Before she could even draw breath the kiss deepened and turned into a searing possession that turned her knees weak and rendered her useless to do anything except explore the tumultuous emotions coursing through her.
Luke had never tasted anything so sweet, so alluring in his life. She fitted into his arms as though she had been born to be there. His body was rock hard and desperate to assuage the raw hunger that made him shake. For the first time in his adult life he struggled to remember where they were and retain some semblance of control. He had to work hard to remember the danger they were in so they didn’t get caught out should the attacker appear at the door, but it was so very difficult with such alluring temptation wrapped around him.
To her dismay, his lips vanished as swiftly as they had landed upon hers. She moaned when h
e suddenly released her and tried to draw him back down but he merely rested his head against hers and starved her of the kisses she so desperately wanted.
“We need to stop,” he murmured reluctantly. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but she had just had a fright. He didn’t want to take advantage of while she was so scared and have her regret it later. She was accepting his embraces, returning his kisses with equal fervour, and had no objection to the ferocity of the passion they shared. He knew that if they weren’t careful it wouldn’t be too long before matters went further, but he wanted her to want him, the man, and not him, the protector. He knew that after today it was essential she not have any doubts or regrets about their association because she was going to be in his life for a very, very, long time. She just didn’t know it yet.
Poppy slowly released him, more reluctant than she had ever thought she would be to have to do so, but she did anyway and stepped backward. She felt as though she was letting go of something precious; something she should hold on to instead. It was unnerving; it was exciting; and she knew it had just changed her forever.
“Let me get some water. Those cuts need cleaning,” she murmured for want of anything else to say. If she was honest she just needed to touch him. If he wasn’t going to hold or kiss her, or let her hold and kiss him, then she could at least bathe his face. Before he could object, she hurried to the bucket and poured some water into a bowl.
Luke dutifully took a seat but while he waited for her to return, spread the cloak out on the table so they could both see the full extent of the damage it had sustained.
“Wha –” Anything else she was about to say froze in her throat as she stared down at the horrifying gashes on the cloak. Now that there was proper light to see them they were even more disturbing.
Their eyes met and held. Luke slid a hand around her waist and drew her against him, shaken by the ferocity of the slashes. To think that Poppy had been wearing it left him cold. More than cold, it made him incredibly angry but also deeply worried.