by Linsey Hall
She closed her eyes, her magic flaring brighter. I tasted oranges and salt, a lovely combination. Her face flushed as she tried harder to access the information she wanted.
Finally, she opened her eyes. “The daughter was here, but rarely came into this room. Let’s check upstairs.”
We passed through another small reception room and a dining room. Carrow ignored them, heading straight for the stairs. Though there were several bedrooms on the next floor—all of them as dark and dreary as the living room—none seemed like our target. One most definitely belonged to Rasla, from the look of the large bed and filled wardrobe.
“Next floor,” Carrow said.
We ascended the narrow, creaking stairs. Most of the rooms on this floor were empty. It wasn’t until we came to a locked door that Carrow grinned widely. “This is it. I’m sure of it.”
I knelt beside her at the door, inspecting the lock. It was an ancient thing, cast iron and heavy. Magic sparked around it, violent and sharp. “We’d be best off finding the key.”
Carrow tried to touch the lock, and a bright white spark popped. She yanked her hand back, shaking it. “Yep. Let’s find it.”
“We should try Rasla's bedroom.”
“Agreed. He seems like just the kind of control freak to keep it there.”
We headed back downstairs and began to hunt through the room, searching every nook and cranny that we could find. There was nothing even remotely interesting in it, from what I could see. Rasla was a miserably dull bastard in his home life. Or perhaps he was just good at hiding.
My money was on dull.
Carrow pushed a large chair aside and stood, walking across the area where the chair had been. She stopped dead in her tracks.
I frowned. “What is it?”
She shifted her weight, her head tilted to the side. Her skirts rustled. A creaking sounded from beneath her foot, and she smiled. “Just like at Seraphia’s library.”
“What do you mean?”
She knelt to inspect the board that had creaked underfoot, eventually prying it up with her fingers. She reached in and pulled out a key, then grinned at me. “Just like the box Seraphia kept under the table.”
“Clever.”
Carrow stood and we returned to the room at the top of the stairs. The key slipped easily into the lock, twisting right. It popped open, and Carrow pulled on the door.
15
Carrow
The room within was simple and quite sad. A narrow bed against one small window, a desk, and a crib. Drab brown walls and bedding.
“Oh, this is terrible.” My gaze went to the window, where I spotted iron bars in front of the mullioned glass. “Oh, hell. Rasla is a bastard.”
“What happened to her, though?” Grey walked slowly into the room. “This room has been empty for a while.”
I followed him in, my skin going cold.
Please be alive.
A noise sounded from down below. A shout from the street, like a greeting. I strode to the window and looked down through the bars. We were at the front of the house, and I could see right into the street. Rasla stood beneath us, talking to a man on the other side of the road.
The sun was setting and casting shadows on the street, so it was impossible to see who he was talking to, but it didn't matter. We had only minutes left.
“He’s here,” I said. “He’ll be coming in soon.”
“He may sense something is wrong when he sees the maid sitting.” Grey turned and went to the bed, beginning to search under the mattress.
My heart raced as I hurried to the desk. There was a small stack of parchment and a pen. I touched each, letting my magic flow through me. The parchment gave me no clues, but the pen lit something up inside me.
“She used this to write the book that brought us here,” I said.
“Then we’re definitely on the right track.” Grey ducked to look under the bed, pressing on the floorboards. “There’s nothing around the bed that tells where she went.”
I hurried to the small cradle, searching under the little mattress. I found nothing, and sadness blasted through me as I searched. There was something so tragic and forlorn about this crib.
What had happened to them?
We could demand answers from Rasla, but he was already suspicious. Grey could use his powers to wipe his mind, but that wasn’t always foolproof. It’d be better if we could find answers without running into him.
Below, I heard the door slam.
“He’s inside.” I rifled quickly through the blanket on the crib, my heart racing. “Hurry.”
Grey paced the room, testing the floorboards with his feet. I rose to join him, then stopped.
The cradle drew my attention back to it. There were answers there. I just needed to try harder with my magic.
I knelt by the crib and gripped the wooden edge, calling upon my power.
Where are you?
Magic flared to life inside my chest, bright and strong, yet still weaker than it could be. Come on. I needed to try harder.
I envisioned the woman I’d seen when I’d touched the book. Imagined her now, running with her baby. Or dead.
The thought made a shudder run through me. I was afraid of what I might find, but still, I needed to find it.
Where are you?
Shouts sounded from down below.
“He’s yelling at the maid,” Grey said. “He’ll grow suspicious soon. Hurry.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and kept trying. Come on, come on, come on.
I could find her. I had to find her.
Finally, an image flared to life. I’d recognize the place anywhere.
I surged upright. “I’ve got it. The Haunted Hound. Let’s get out of here.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs below, and my skin chilled. “He’s coming.”
“Best if we don’t meet him.” Grey moved swiftly and silently to the exit and took a left into the room next door. “There’s a larger window here. No bars.”
I followed him in, the sound of Rasla’s footsteps making my breath grow short in my lungs. Grey stood near a mullioned glass window in a room filled with old furniture. It was storage space, obviously. The window wasn’t the sort that opened, so Grey picked up an old chair and smashed it through the glass.
He tossed the chair aside and threw an old blanket over the jagged glass, then turned to me, holding out his hands. “Come on.”
“I know it’s you, Devil!” Rasla’s voice sounded from below.
“Do we stay and erase his memory now, or go get our answers from Evangeline?” I asked.
“We go. There’s no time to waste trying to learn how he resisted my power before. And if she’s running, we can’t let her get farther. We’ll deal with him later.”
I nodded and raced to Grey, then scrambled out the window and onto the steep roof. Grey slipped out behind me and darted gracefully to the side, moving quickly on the tiles. I followed, moving as quickly as I dared in my long dress and unfamiliar shoes, and we raced across the slanted rooftop.
“I’ll find you!” Rasla’s voice echoed after us.
I looked back and spotted him hanging out the broken window. It was growing dark, but there was still enough light to see the rage in his eyes.
He was totally onto us, though he probably still had no idea who I was. It would prove problematic for Grey, however. We’d need to sort this out before we returned to our time.
I followed Grey along the rooftops, climbing from building to building, and nearly losing my footing several times. We were three stories up, and a fall would be catastrophic.
“Come, we can get down right here.” Grey stopped at the edge of the row of buildings where it terminated against a side street.
I stopped next to him, looking down. A sturdy vine had grown along the side of the wall, so old and tough that we could use it like a ladder.
I dropped low and scrambled over the edge. Shouts sounded from down the road to my right.
It
had to be Rasla, coming our way down the street. Grey climbed alongside me, just as fast, and we reached the bottom seconds later.
“This way.” Grey sprinted away from the noise, and I followed. We hurried into the dark, losing ourselves amongst the winding streets of Guild City, until the shouts of Rasla and whoever he’d gathered on his side disappeared.
Finally safe, I leaned against a wall in an old, smelly alley. Panting, I turned to Grey. “That was too close.”
He nodded. “I’m going to have to find him and erase his memory, or he’ll cause problems for me in this timeline.”
“We’ll make it a priority.” I looked down the street, trying to get my bearings. “We need to go to the Haunted Hound. I think we’re close.’
“We are. This way.” He started down the alley, and I followed.
The streets were quiet, probably because people were home for dinner. It only took us a few minutes to reach the gate that would lead to the pub.
As we approached the gate, we kept our heads down. My shoulders relaxed when we disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel that would lead us to the Haunted Hound. We reached the portal, and the ether sucked us in, spinning us around and spitting us out in the back hallway at the pub.
I got my bearings and said, “Well, that was the most familiar thing we’ve done in a while.”
Grey cracked a slight smile. “You’ll like the Hound, then.”
We walked out of the dark hallway and into the main part of the pub. Happiness filled me at the sight. It was exactly the same as it was in the modern day. Same dark walls, low ceiling, small wooden tables, and fireplace.
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m still a fan.”
“Ready to get back to our time?” he asked.
“More ready every second.” I searched the Hound for any sight of the woman we sought.
Though there were quite a few people there, none of them were Evangeline. There were two living dogs by the fire, however, and I gasped.
“The ghost dogs are alive,” I whispered.
Grey nodded. “It’s called The Hound at this point, I believe. But when the dogs pass, they’ll stay on, and the bar’s name will change.”
I loved the idea of it.
But there was no time to dawdle. I looked toward the bar, unable to help the slight disappointment at the sight of the unfamiliar person there. It was silly. Of course Mac and Quinn weren’t working, no matter how similar the place looked. I was just longing for something certain and familiar.
Quickly, I strode to the bar, giving all the patrons one last look. They wore the usual attire of the period, which was the only thing different about the Hound, and I still didn't recognize anyone.
I could feel the bartender’s gaze on me as we approached, and I stopped in front of him and smiled. He was a burly man with a beard and beady eyes—nowhere near as charming or handsome as Quinn.
He gripped the rag in his hand and asked. “What can I get you?”
“I’m looking for a woman,” I said.
“Don’t snitch on my customers, I don’t.” His eyes flashed.
Grey joined me, catching the man’s gaze. His voice vibrated with power as he spoke. “You will help us find the woman we seek.”
The man grimaced briefly, but his eyes fogged with the power of Grey’s gift. He nodded jerkily.
“She looks like me,” I said. “And she should be here.”
The man hissed out a breath, then spoke. “Aye, you look familiar. And there was a lady here. Stayed three nights in the room upstairs, along with her babe.”
Was? “Where is she now?”
“Left only ten minutes ago,” he said. “Said she was making a new life for herself in the country.”
In the country was a massive place. Pretty much everything except London.
“Where?” I asked.
“Dunno. But logic says she’d be trying to get a ride with Old Robert and his carriage service.”
I looked between him and Grey. “Where does that depart from?”
Grey’s brow furrowed slightly as he tried to remember, and the bartender beat him to it. “From the main market in Covent Garden.”
I turned to Grey. It wouldn’t be the market I knew—that had been built after 1642. “Do you know where that is?”
“I should, yes.” He looked at the man. “You’ll forget you saw us or helped us.”
The man nodded, his shoulders relaxing as if he were pleased to be rid of us. I whirled around and headed for the door, pushing my way out into London.
The stench was the first thing to hit me, making my eyes water. “Holy hell, this is terrible.”
“Human London.”
The smell came from all around—sewage, slop, horses. The animals clomped their way through the street, their carriage wheels rattling over the cobblestones. People pushed their way along with the crowd, and we joined the crush.
Hitching up my skirt, I ran full out, my lungs burning and elbows flying as I shoved my way through the crowd. Grey stuck close to my side, leading the way as we raced toward the main market.
“We’re nearly there,” he said after a few minutes.
Panting, I prayed we weren't too late. I could track her, but if we lost her in London, it might take far too much time.
“That’s it, up ahead.” Grey pointed to a collection of buildings and stalls arranged around a square. Dozens of carriages sat out front, their horses tied off to posts.
I searched the space, desperate to find Evangeline. As if fate had heard my prayers, my gaze landed on a woman. I could only see her simple dress and the back of her head, but it was her. A golden light glowed around her, glittering and bright.
Just like Seraphia had said.
No one else could see it, or they’d be staring at her. But I could. Because the book was leading me to her. She was the one I was meant to find.
Evangeline.
I ran toward her, cutting through the crowd. I was nearly to her when I shouted, “Evangeline!”
She stiffened but didn't turn.
I ran to her, darting around to stand in front of her. She did look just like me. It was eerie. Same golden hair, eyes, bone structure. The baby in her arms slept silently.
Her brow furrowed as her face searched mine. “Who are you?”
“Carrow Burton.” The name would mean nothing to her.
“Why do you look like me?”
“Long story.” My mind raced. Where did I start?
Grey came to stand beside me, and her eyes darted to him, widening. “I know you.”
Grey bowed slightly. “We haven’t been formally introduced, but I am Grey.”
He didn’t use his title, which was rare. I’d never heard him referred to as anything other than the Devil of Darkvale, and he certainly had never asked my friends to call him Grey.
But technically, this woman was my family. It was the only logical reason we looked alike.
“What do you want with me?” The woman’s eyes glanced warily to the carriages. She clearly wanted to make a run for it. Had her father erased her memory, too? What did she know?
Anything?
I pulled the book out of my pocket and showed her. “Do you recognize this?”
She looked at it blankly for the briefest moment, then recognition flared, and she gasped. She raised a hand to her head, wincing, and managed to keep a grip on her baby with her other arm. Her eyes met mine. “How did you get that?”
“I found it when I found the Shadow Guild tower hidden in Guild City. More than three hundred years from now.”
She began to pant, her breath coming more quickly. She was panicking.
I reached for her arm, trying to steady her, but she stepped back. Concern shot through me. “Are you all right?”
“I will be.” She forced her breathing to calm. “May I touch the book?”
“Sure.” I held it out to her, confused as hell. What was going on with her?
She raised her hand to her lips and
pulled her glove off with her teeth, then reached for the book and pressed her fingertips to it. She flinched, her eyes going wide and blurry. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and she swallowed hard, forcing them to stop. After a few moments, her gaze met mine. “We should speak.”
I looked at Grey. “Is there somewhere private around here?”
He looked around, his height allowing him to see over the crowd. “I believe I see a small garden over there.”
“Is that okay with you?” I asked her.
“Okay?” she asked bemusedly.
“Is it good?” I corrected, remembering that she didn’t understand modern slang.
She nodded, her lips pressed flat into a line.
Grey led us through the crowd, which parted easily for him. The garden was indeed relatively private, tucked back behind a locked iron gate covered in vines. Grey reached for it and yanked, breaking the lock.
“Well, that was easy,” I said.
“No magic protecting it.” He shook his head. “Humans.”
We walked into the small garden, and he shut the gate behind us. It was about five meters by ten, vines covering most of the iron fence and gate that separated it from the bustle of dreary, gray London. Inside, the lush plants and flowers dampened the noise, making it feel like a peaceful retreat. A small, square pond sat in the middle with benches all around. I pointed to one. “Will that do for you?”
She nodded and walked toward it, clutching her baby close. Questions raced through my mind as I followed her. She had no luggage. Was this all she owned? Did she have money? Why was she leaving?
To get away from Rasla, I had to assume. I’d seen the bars on her awful room. But she was running with nothing, it seemed.
She sat on the far edge of the bench, and I joined her, leaving a small spot for Grey at the end. Silence stretched between us for a few long moments, until her gaze met mine.
“We must be family,” she said, her voice questioning. “Three hundred years into the future?”
I nodded. “The year 2020.”
“Oh, my.” Her eyes widened. “It took you so long to find my book?”
“You left it on purpose?” I asked.
She nodded. “May I hold it again? It helps me remember what has been stolen from me.”