Watch of Nightingales

by Honor Gable

They don't have to know. Besides, after everything we've done, we deserve a little trinket.

  A middle-aged man with a significant paunch opens Xavier's door at our knock. "You must be Madeline and Justine. I'm Antoine. Come in." We barely fit through the opening with his belly blocking most of the entrance. Apparently rationing hasn't affected him much. Theo’s perched on a stool by the window with his knees on the top rung, embraced by a cloud of smoke, inspecting his cigarette like it holds all of life's answers. He's rumpled, his shirt unbuttoned halfway down, his suspenders loose, like he just woke up.

  Hello, sweetie.

  My lips curl into a half smile as I step up to him. He raises his gaze slowly, up from my feet to my face and I bite back a shiver. I pluck the cigarette from his fingers and bring it to my lips, sucking in the smooth tobacco and letting it slide from my mouth towards him, red lipstick staining the paper. His eyes are stuck to my lips as if entranced, but it's my turn to stare when he pins me with his gaze. His eyes, which were so blue outside, are a stormy grey in here. The color of England. You'd think I'd hate it, but I don't. In a strange way, it's comforting.

  I want to kiss him again. It was fun and he's a delightful kisser, but we have a bit too much of an audience even for me. Instead, I take another draw on the cigarette, letting it steady me. He watches my movements with a hawk's gaze and once the smoke stops blowing from my mouth, he takes the cigarette back, finishing it in one drag. With a wink he stubs it out in the tin sawed in half on the window sill.

  He leans forward to whisper in my ear. "You should come to my flat after this and spend the night. We can make love under the stars."

  I snort with laughter. "Not going to happen, love." No matter how gorgeous you are. I don't give in to the game this fast.

  His eyes darken and his lips flatten, so I turn my back on him, not in the mood to soothe his ego.

  Viola hands Xavier the package and I'm eager to see what was so important, but he shoves it into his pocket. "Thanks."

  "Is that it? You just needed us to deliver this?"

  He frowns at the eagerness in my voice. "No. I also wanted to let you know, I won't be here for a couple days. Theo and I have a mission outside of Paris. And I need to stress the importance of lying low. Stay in your safe houses as much as possible. Stick to your covers if you must leave."

  "Where are you going? Do you need any of us to come?" Why is the man who is supposed to be keeping an eye on us leaving us without a chaperone?

  "No. I'll send word when I'm back and I'm sure I'll have something for you to do then." He's unable to disguise his disapproval.

  What? Am I supposed to dread the missions?

  He turns to Viola. "I need to speak with you privately." She casts me a desperate glance, but I'm stumped. They disappear into his little makeshift room.

  I turn back to Theo. "I see why you wanted me to come over. Is it a very dangerous mission you're going on?"

  He nods, his eyes wide and lips twitching. "Very. I could die. How would you feel then? If you let me go off to my death without the memory of you in my arms?"

  "I'd feel pity. Maybe you can talk another girl into sharing your bed for the night."

  He shakes his head slowly. "Ah, but only you will do."

  I shrug. "Then I guess you'll have to face your death with no warm memories."

  "You are a hateful woman. Teasing me with your charms, but not giving me a taste." He licks his lips again like he did out on the street, shooting a pang low in my belly. His eyes are lit with humor.

  "I recall you getting a taste. I just won't give you the whole meal." It's hard to keep the grin from lighting my face. It's rare I find someone with the confidence to talk like this to me. I love it.

  "And you're leaving me starving."

  Moving in closer to him, I finally allow the smile to show itself. "Maybe I can allow one more taste." I peek over my shoulder, making sure everyone else is occupied and turn back around to his waiting lips.

  His mouth is warm and soft, moving gently against mine. His fingers dig into my waist almost to the point of pain, but I don't care. He's intoxicating. I pull away, fighting to get my breath back.

  He releases me with a wink. "I can now greet my looming death with a smile."

  I roll my eyes. "I'll see you in a couple days, love."

  Viola emerges, pale. I shoot Xavier a nasty snarl and follow her outside. "What's going on?"

  "He found out about the baby. That Lois and I had something to do with it. How did he know?"

  I curse. "Those bleeding sisters. They must have told him."

  "No, he told me it wasn't them. In fact he was angry that they didn't."

  "What did he say?"

  "He just got quiet and angry. He let me know how stupid and foolish and rash our actions were. We put the sisters in danger by not going about it the right way. We were too obvious with our powers."

  "How would you feel about doing something even more foolish?"

  She frowns, but I still see the glint in her eyes. I smile slowly. This will be easier than I thought.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  VIOLA

  Lois doesn't tremble as badly as she usually does as she slips Rivka and me past the watchtower and to the barbed wire edging the camp. She releases me and I dart to hide under the cover of a fat bush to keep watch. At Lois's quiet direction, Rivka reaches out, entwining her fingers into the metal and with a flash of yellow, a hole opens up wide enough for us to crawl through. She hisses in pain, but doesn't complain.

  Once through, the blindness returns with Lois's touch.

  The streets are empty, and as quiet as we try to keep our footsteps, they echo off the buildings. Lois walks between Rivka and me, gathering her shadows around us. The smell here is worse than the awful part of town Xavier lives in. The warm wind blows the scents of rot and death and overflowing toilets over us. It's hard not to gag.

  My excitement and pride over this mission melts under stench. What are we doing here? There are too many to save to even make a dent. We didn't bring enough supplies. We don't have any intel on this place or even who it's safe to go to. We didn't take enough time to plan this. We should have gone to Xavier for help, or at least admitted to Jade and the two sisters we needed further information.

  My palms and back are sticky with nervous sweat as we glide through the streets. My chest tightens and it feels like a hippo is resting upon it. I can't breathe. The darkness smothers me, stealing the air from my lungs, making the world spin around me.

  A pinch on the inside of my arm and a furious whisper in my ear acts as my anchor, bringing me slowly back to Earth. My cheeks and ears light on fire. I'm not cut out for this. I'm no hero. I just want to go home. Before I get someone I love killed.

  Lois jerks to a halt as the loud clomp of boots turn the corner and head for us. Did he hear me? Was I too loud? Did I give us away?

  The roar of a motorcycle bites through the quiet behind us. Shouts and gunshots join it as Lois and Rivka disappear, leaving me to race through the madness and into the barracks.

  The last bit of tightness fades away and we hurry up the steps and burst into the first flat we come across. Four women face us, shaking and terror shining from their eyes even as the mothers shove their children behind them.

  The room is terrible. It's a concrete cell. They've hung up threadbare clothes to dry on twine along the wall and one tiny table and rickety chairs are the only furniture. No beds. Just piles of cloth scraps.

  Rivka steps up, pulling her scarf down so they can see her face, and speaks to them in Hebrew. One of the women comes forward and they speak back and forth for a moment before she turns to us. "The supplies."

  I shrug from the pack with no small bit of relief and yank things from it. Several loaves of bread, tinned fruit, blankets, and at the bottom, weapons. A few large knives and two pistols. It's all we could come up with on such short time, but judging from the gratitude and excitement painting their faces, it's more than they hoped
for. Rivka and Lois empty their identical bags.

  Lois smiles at a little girl around three years old who watches us with a solemn expression and a thumb in her mouth. The girl doesn't smile back.

  My heart breaks.

  Her mother leads her over to us and switches to French. "Take her with you. Please. Save my baby."

  I know without looking at her that there's no way Lois will leave this little girl behind. And staring down at her starving and hopeless face, I know I won't either. With a sob at Lois's terse nod, the mother picks her child up and clutches her tight for a moment, whispering in her ear, before shoving her into Lois's arms.

  "We can take one more." I can't believe the words out of my mouth, but the group of six children still huddling behind the other mothers breaks my heart. I wish we could take them all.

  They speak amongst themselves and I avoid eye contact with Lois and Rivka. The shouts and shots have moved away and it signals us. A tiny girl is shoved into my arms and in a flurry we are gone. We'll meet back at the flat. Rivka stays with Lois and the other little girl, and I fly from the camp and through the hole melted into the barbed wire, prayers falling with each step.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  AUDREY

  I count the time impatiently in my head, ready to go. But I have to give the others time to get inside first. I hate not being there with them, but excitement skitters over me, every cell on my body buzzing. Lois and I thought Viola and Rivka would be harder to convince to do this, but it took nothing more than the skeleton of a plan to get them to agree. The sisters and Jade were all too ready to help as well. Though they were under the impression it was sanctioned by Xavier.

  Whoops.

  London wants to know what our powers can do to help the war effort?

  Passing out pamphlets and meeting couriers is the least of it.

  Rubbing my fingers over my wrist, I marvel at the smooth scars dotting my wrist. The holes closed with what felt like relief as soon as I ripped it from my skin instead of the usual searing pain. Sometimes healing hurts worse than getting the wounds.

  I hope taking the bracelets off wasn't a mistake, but we couldn't chance getting arrested with them on.

  The twenty minute mark sounds off in my head and I smile. It's time.

  Pushing the motorcycle out from it's hiding place and down to the edge of the alley, I keep my ears perked for any sound of someone approaching. I throw a leg over and settle into the seat, flicking the switch and shuddering at the answering roar. I've missed this. It's time to see if I'm good enough for the Motor Maids.

  Hoping I make it to the camp before a Jerry finds and tries to stop me, I rev the engine harder. I could give Viola a good race on this beauty. The searchlight burns bright in the dark night, setting the camp in front of me aglow.

  I pull my pistol from my pocket and fire right at the watchtower, hoping I get lucky and actually hit him. With a jerk, I swerve the motorcycle away from the return fire and pass right under the tower.

  And almost crash.

  With a squeal of brakes and scraping skin, I'm headed back towards the tower and the camp entrance. Jerries spill from the camp, on foot and in trolleys. My grip is slippery on the handle bar and my gun. My pulse quickens and my face wrinkles into a frown as I aim right at the lines of stomping soldiers with their shiny boots. We exchange gunfire and I drive in a snakelike pattern, refusing to make an easy target. A couple men crumple to the ground, but not as many as I'd hoped.

  Driving and shooting one handed isn't as easy as I thought.

  It takes everything in me not to fall off the bike when two bullets punch into me. One in my shoulder and one in my side. I howl in pain, but it only lasts for a few seconds before I heal. Darkness pulses at the edge of my vision, but I fight against it.

  I'm almost upon them.

  At the last minute, I cut the bars away from the soldiers. I almost make it clear, but one is ahead of the others. I fire again, but the gun clicks empty. With a curse, I drop it. Deep breaths in and out with the remaining two seconds I have. I bring up one of my feet and balance it on the seat, bringing up my other in a nice kick right at his chest. With the added power of the bike, he flies back several feet with a yell.

  My ankle throbs with pain for a moment before the same relief covers me and I'm healed. I'm healing faster and my stomach doesn't complain as loudly as it normally does.

  The trucks are almost on me. With another screech of brakes, I fly through the darkened streets. I walked this same route four times today, memorizing each turn and side street and alley. Places the trolleys and cars won't be able to follow.

  Soldier hang from the windows, firing at me. Most of the bullets don't come near me. A few I almost feel the wind from. And three hit their marks. Me. Thankfully no fatal shots, because I wouldn't be able to stay conscious for those. Another two in my shoulder and one in my hip. Blood covers me and I'm woozy as hell, but I keep to my route.

  I'll lose them soon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  VIOLA

  With Lois bringing both Rivka and the child, she takes longer to meet back at the flat. I keep the lights off, holding the little girl tight to my chest, as I keep watch through a slit in the blackout curtains. Not that I'll see them, but it's Audrey my thoughts are fixed on. Of course she took the most dangerous job upon herself. The sirens have been screaming in my ears since the camp.

  It seems she's leading them on quite the merry chase. My mouth moves in silent prayer as I continue my lonely vigil.

  A gasp and a thud sends my heart into spasms and I spin around to find Rivka bending over something in the gloom. I hurry to light up the room and bite back a cry of alarm. Lois lies passed out on the hard floor, her body protecting the child even in unconsciousness. Rivka rescues the girl and I flop down to my knees beside Lois, keeping my child under one arm and using my other to check Lois's pulse. It flutters madly and her body shudders so hard it's like an earthquake is breaking out under us.

  I shake her and call her name, but there's no response. Tears bite my eyes and my throat works overtime. We can't call for a doctor. Do we sit and wait, hoping for the best? Rivka’s face crumples into lines of distaste and frustration as the child she’s holding starts to cry.

  Rivka croons and bounces the baby. "Slap her."

  I do, but there's no response. Exhaustion pulls at me and hopelessness seeps in. My hands hover over her helplessly.

  After a few minutes, her shaking calms and she stills, her breathing and pulse evening out. I slump back on my heels with a groan. The child squirms in my arms and a wet warmth trickles across my stomach. I look down at her in dismay and can't help but chuckle at the dimples on the side of her starved cheeks. She smiles at me.

  The door behind me slams open and I spin to see Audrey's face splattered with blood and a fierce grin, which fades at the sight of Lois stirring on the floor and Rivka and I both with babes in arms. Hysteria muddles my brain and I bite my lip until I taste blood to keep the laughter from breaking out. I don't want them to think I'm losing it.

  Audrey's steps are hesitant and weary as she comes farther into the flat. "We have to get these wee things to the sisters."

  Lois is in no shape to make it there on her own, much less with children and Audrey.

  There's only one choice. "The rest of you stay here. I'll take them back to the sisters."

  The stench of urine is overwhelming when Rivka hands me hers with obvious relief. She opens the door for me once I settle the children on my hips.

  And then, I'm running, pushing, racing, to get there before one of them starts crying.

  The sisters are still awake when I rush inside without knocking. They grab me as I start to collapse, each rescuing a child from slamming onto the floor. "They're all we could save." Seeing them here, two little children no longer with their parents, my chest tightens with tears. What are we playing at? We have these amazing powers, we should have emptied the camp.

  I'm ashamed of our
pride. My cheeks are soaked with my guilt and horror.

  One of the sisters kneels before me. "Look at this precious face."

  Brown curls tumble around a pale heart-shaped face. Big eyes way too old for her stare at me.

  "This child would be dead within a month. So would the other. Those parents might survive the war because of it. Hope is a powerful thing and the knowledge that their child is waiting for them will give them strength. And through their strength, others will live. You have no idea how many lives you might've saved. But you definitely saved two. And that is nothing to be ashamed over."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  AUDREY

  Lois and I fight tears as we say goodbye to the little buggers we saved a couple days ago. The pastor and a woman from the sisters' church are here to take them somewhere else. Papers have been forged, and they hope to have them hidden well within a week. They won't tell us where, but it's for the best.

  I'm surprised at how attached I've grown to them in the past few days. Sleepless as our nights have been, trying to keep them quiet. The poor things have clearly already been trained in the importance of silence, but any slight noise could attract the attention of the neighbors and how to explain them?

  In the looming silence that falls once the taillights disappear, we stare at each other uselessly. Agnes recovers first. "Let's pray for their journey and then we need to search this house top to bottom and make sure there is nothing left of theirs that could give us away."

  The only thing left behind was a little worn and patched green blanket.

  Lois takes it from Agnes. "I'll get rid of it."

  I eye her with suspicion as she shoves it into her pack. I'll eat my hat if she actually gets rid of it. She was adorable in a heartbreaking way with those children. Never losing patience, crooning to them, telling them stories, and singing them songs. I've never seen this side of her before. Normally, she's harsh and angry and bitter, but with them, she was soft and kind and loving.