by Nikki Hyson
The reality of losing a reliable rook troubled him more than a little. Especially with this Hook business being so unsettled. Silently, Moriarty weighed risks against rewards and losses. Damn you, Edward.
The silence stretched too long for Hyde to bear. Pointing an accusatory finger towards Cris, he let loose a tirade of distilled venom. “Deny you weren’t with the girl in the very café you promised never to enter. Deny you weren’t plotting against the Professor. Deny—”
Moriarty raised a hand. “Please, be still. Irene?”
He’d barely raised his voice, but she stepped through the open door a moment later. “Yes, Sir?”
“Please take the young lady to a room. See to her needs. Make sure she has something to eat and drink.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“No harm will come to you.” Gesturing for Haydee to follow his assistant from the room, “Please, go with her.”
“You mean, no more harm.” Haydee rubbed her temple, the bruise already purpling. “I’m not sure what the bloody hell is going on here. Honestly? I don’t want to know. I just want to go home. If you’ll show me the front door, I’ll not bother any of you again.” She tossed the last at Cris, her tone rising angrily. “And I wouldn’t come back to the diner either.”
Cris didn’t shift his weight, or raise his head.
Moriarty answered for him. “Don’t worry. He won’t trouble you again. And I am sorry, but there are some things we must sort before you can go. Please, go with Irene. She will look after you.”
Perhaps realizing she had no choice, Haydee maintained the look a moment longer before surrendering. She shot Cris a fleeting, questioning glance he didn’t meet, then followed Irene.
Moriarty waited until the count of ten for the women to be out of earshot.
Edward waited only until six.
“You see? I’ve been telling you the truth all along. He can’t be trusted. An example must be made. You must burn them. Burn them both.”
Moriarty shook his head slowly; Hyde’s words trailed away to silence. “Go. Leave me while a shred of patience remains. Stay out of my sight until at least Wednesday. Do you understand? Wednesday. Do nothing.”
Like a whipped dog, eyes still daring fire beneath a hooded brow, Hyde’s shoulders hunched. “Aye, Master.” He retreated from the room.
Moriarty sighed. “Cris, I didn’t order this. I promised she wouldn’t be touched, and I meant it.”
“She’s here.” Cris lifted his gaze, but only to the ink blotter. “Doesn’t matter now.” Hands clasped loosely before him. “You won’t let her go.”
“There are ways around everything. First, you have some serious allegations against you. What Edward said. Is it true? Were you with Lily?”
“Yes.”
Moriarty tensed. Up until that moment, he’d almost believed it might be one of Hyde’s delusions. “Why?”
“She picked the venue.” Raising his eyes at last, he added, “I only sat at the table.”
“Why?”
“She understands more than she should. I thought it was time to know how much.”
“And?”
“She is a risk, but she cares too much for others. She can be controlled.”
Moriarty leaned back into his chair, steepling fingers across his chest, studying the invisible chessboard before him. “What would be the advantage to letting her go?”
“Hook. He cares about her safety. He didn’t ask her to try and free him. She doesn’t know about that.”
Trying to unriddle the Count’s line of thinking, Moriarty frowned. Failing, the lines of displeasure deepened. He could out think anyone. “Explain.”
“If she were in peril, I think he would do anything to save her. I think he would sacrifice himself.” The Count continued for a full quarter hour, laying out a plan too detailed to be thought of in a moment.
Considering it a viable option, Moriarty nodded thoughtfully. “And Hook will trust you? You can do this?”
Shoulders squaring, Cris settled back on his heels. “I can.”
“I like this. Well done, Cris. In return, I will do something for you. The girl will no longer be a chip against you. I’ll send her back to your book. The Oracle is too weak now, but when there is another, I’ll have Haydee’s memory of this life erased. Agreed?”
Cris bowed slightly. “Aye, Sir.”
“I’m reluctant to move on her until November ends. All must be ready by Friday night. You may go. ”
“Thank you, Sir.” He left the room, shutting the door softly.
Moriarty looked at Rochefort. “Thoughts?”
“It is a good plan, Sir. Well thought through.”
“I agree. He’s been considering this for a long while. Strange. I thought he carried some fondness for the pirate. The betrayal will bite Hook deeply.”
“Done correctly, it won’t feel like betrayal at all. It will feel like a victory.”
“True.” Moriarty leaned forward, picking up a pen. Quick strokes formed the order that would end a life. A moment dried the ink, setting the command in stone. “Put this in Hook’s file.” He folded it. “I want it given on Thursday night.”
“Yes, Sir.” Rochefort took the slip, meeting the Professor’s eyes when Moriarty didn’t release it. “Sir?”
“When this is all done you’ll need to take care of Haydee the old fashioned way.”
“Sir?”
“Slit her throat. Dump her in the country. Cris must never know.”
Puzzlement flickered on the knight’s face. Only a simple, “Aye,” slipped from his lips.
Moriarty saw it. “Her book is missing.” He’d dared a sliver of truth because he couldn’t afford questions from one of the few he trusted.
Rochefort’s brow shot up a quarter inch of its own accord. “Sir?”
“Yes. A few vanished thanks to that damnable Oracle.”
“Which books?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Moriarty’s eyes narrowed, a wrist flicking the musketeer away. “Go. See to your business.”
Rochefort bowed respectfully.
The Professor watched him until the door clicked shut. Only then did his gaze shift to Doyle. He smiled. “I’ll win this yet, Old Man.”
34
Lily’s gaze swept around her flat before shutting the door. It didn’t seem like she could be packed and ready to go, but she was. Posters still filled the walls, pops of color and inspirational quotes breaking the pristine surfaces. Her movie collection, a scarce two shelves out of four bookcases, remained untouched and raised no pain. But the books filling ever other spare inch were also barely ruffled, and that hurt her heart the most.
Only the backpack and ready laptop bag she’d filled three days ago seemed out of place. Leaving them both behind, she shut off the light, slung her book bag and chirped to Amos. Only Thursday night, she had one more responsibility to her wrimos before she vanished.
“Come on, Amos. You’re spending the evening with Jen.”
James watched from across the street, leaning into the shadowed entrance of an empty shop. To all eyes, Lily probably seemed to be having a good time at the “Countdown to Midnight” NaNo party. He didn’t think so.
He noted her smile slip every time the crowd became preoccupied with someone else. He didn’t need to guess at the cause. James knew he’d done this to her. He’d made her doubt words that’d only brought comfort before now. He’d asked her to kill Stephan a second time.
A step coming up the walk pulled his attention from her. “How’d you know?” he asked without looking.
“Not hard to track her.” Cris opened the library flyer to a calendar inside. “She’s at nearly every event.”
“How’d you know I’d be here?”
“You weren’t at the flat. Haven’t talked to her since Sunday night. Wasn’t hard,” he repeated with casual grace.
“Are we wanted?”
“You need to pick up orders, but that can wait a bit. I don’t think it’
s due until tomorrow.”
James’ look pierced Cris’ easy dismissal. “Why don’t you get them?”
“I wouldn’t know. The Professor said you.”
“The Professor?”
“Aye.” Cris shrugged. “He caught me after I gave my weekly report.”
James continued to stare, saying nothing. Finally, he looked back at the party in the pizzeria. It was the same one where she’d bumped into him the second time. What did the Professor want? Fear taking root in the base of his spine, he said, “Message received.”
Cris lingered. “Are you going to talk to her?”
“What would I say? She knows everything.”
With no suggestion, admitting as much with a nod, Cris said, “Alright then. See you later? At the flat?”
“Sure.” Curt, noncommittal, but the only answer he had. Cris took it, retreating back the way he’d come. James remained, watching Lily’s silent turmoil. Wishing he alone could own it.
Just after midnight the party broke up, bits and pieces of the crowd slipping on coats and scarves. Seemingly determined to see everyone off, Lily lingered, giving hugs to each as they left.
James hesitated. To leave now meant there was no chance of her seeing him. No chance for words best forgotten or unspoken altogether. Yet leaving now meant she might be walking home alone. The potential danger outweighed the possible risk of discomfort. James waited.
Lily noticed him before everyone even arrived. Instant suspicion warred with genuine delight. He’d come. Perhaps he’d join them.
James was here. He was one of Them. The Guild. What did They want?
His voice played in her head. A never ending highlights reel over the past few days. He was a writer. There were stacks of manuscripts everywhere.
Forcing herself not to look out the window again. Thirty-seven. Lily tried not to think about it. What would you have done?
Lily, they’ll make me kill you.
Four hours later he still watched, and she’d become the last one to leave. Nothing to be done, except thank Marco and head home. Whatever James was waiting to tell her, she’d listen. She owed him that much if not more. How else would I have found the truth about Dah? Pulling her coat close, Lily stepped out onto the midnight street.
He didn’t call out to her. Didn’t even cross over to her side. He stayed back enough to create a buffer, shadowing her down the length of one block.
A lump rose. Protecting me, James? She’d promised him the truth wouldn’t change their friendship. She’d promised, but he was the one keeping his word.
Lily stopped. He stopped too. Looking back, she called out softly. “James.” Holding out her hand to him. “Please.”
Silently, he crossed the street and stopped at her side. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, as she had a half dozen times before.
James, clearing his throat roughly, apologized. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”
Lily squeezed his arm. “I know.”
They walked, no words passing until they stood in front of her building. Only then did he try. “What I said about Stephan. I’m sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to protect you.”
“I know. You were right.” Nodding when his eyes registered disbelief. “I let him go. It’s time.” Her shoulders lifted a fraction, head shaking as though she couldn’t understand it any more than he could. At least she could accept it. “Time for both of us.”
Relief warmed cheeks nipped by a December breeze. They both shivered. James almost smiled. “Good. I’m glad.” He hesitated a moment. “Lily, I probably won’t see you after this. I just wanted to say goodbye. And thank you.”
“Where are you going?”
“Time to break the strings. I can’t be a puppet forever.”
“James—”
“—It’s time, Lily.” He bent close. “I’m not afraid anymore.” Brushing his lips once, quite chastely, across her cheek. “I know the man I used to be. I owe you so much. Thank you.”
To think I’d been afraid of him. “Don’t do anything foolish.” Tears blurring her vision, she added, “Anything I can’t live with.”
James started, regarding her with the same curious suspicion that’d filled his eyes on their second meeting. Licking his lips slowly, he cleared his throat again. Then, quite carefully, he finished the quote. “Something foolish is what got me into this. It may take something exceedingly more so to get me out.” He cocked his head a little to one side. “What you just said; did you read it somewhere before?”
“It was a book I used to read all the time. One of my favorites when I was growing up. One of Dah’s Precious Books he never let me take outside. Why?”
“Who said it?”
“Well, I paraphrased. But it was the heroine. Her name was Anne.” Lily gasped, remembrance clicking with realization. “Anne Crawford. James, she has your name.”
“Who wrote the book, Lily? Do you remember?”
“A great, several times over, uncle. He was a tutor once. Only wrote the one book. I always wish he’d written more but—”
“Your uncle? Your great uncle Arthur?”
“Yes.”
James hugged her close. “Lily, I know why. Why it was impossible to avoid one another. You kept the vow, Lily. You were there for me. Thank you. Thank you with all my heart.”
Guilt tugged the corner of her heart. “But I sent you away when I said I wouldn’t. I’m so sorry.”
He barked a laugh, putting her from him with a touch both feather light and tender. “Child, after what I told you Sunday night? You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” He took two steps from her, hand falling away only to fill with the handle of his cane. “They won’t worry you or your folks. You’ll be safe.” He winked, as if all might be perfectly well. “They never should have called out a pirate.” James swallowed hard. “Goodbye, Lily.” Steps almost flight as they carried him away, James forgot to limp.
Lily stood in the middle of the pavement. Only wondering, after he rounded the corner, why she hadn’t shouted something at his retreating back. She hadn’t wanted, “I’m sorry,” to be the last thing he heard from her.
35
Carrying a reconciled heart for the first time in this life, James entered the Guild. This would be the end. He could feel it building, gathering momentum, and he’d be at the center of the storm. He would bring them down. All of them. He just had to get past the front desk.
The front door clicking shut behind him, James’ stomach fell. Rochefort waited at the desk, leaning against it as if he’d all the time in the world. “Hello, Hook,” he said. “Here to pick up that order?”
James tried to brush past. “There’s something else I have to do first.”
Rochefort took a step to the side, blocking his path. Raising a hand that didn’t quite touch the center of James’ chest, he asked, “What business could you possibly have within, when I have so kindly brought your papers to you?” He picked the manila folder from the counter and held it out. “Here you go.”
James retreated. Accepting the folder bound the contract to him. It would curse whoever they’d named to James’ fate. He didn’t want another blot in his ledger. “Just let me by.”
“The Professor said you stay where you are. You’re to take it and go.”
James’ cane slipped up in his grip, tip locking under his arm. “Just let me by, Rochefort.”
Rochefort smiled. “Take the folder, Hook. You can speak to him tomorrow, when you give your report.”
“Tomorrow? Not tonight.”
“It’s set for tomorrow. Are you going to take it, or not?”
He hesitated. Was the end worth one more life? “Tomorrow night?” One life to stop it all? “The Professor. Not Hyde?”
“Of course.” Rochefort relaxed. Posture easing, he dropped his tone several notches. “It’s not you. Professor wants no one entering. Hyde did something.” He shrugged, letting it hang there.
Slowly, James re
ached for the folder, hating himself before his fingers even grasped the edge. He pulled it from Rochefort’s grip. “Unlucky bastard,” he muttered under his breath. He flipped the folder open. The face in the picture stared back. Snapping the folder closed, he shook his head. “This can’t be right.”
“I watched the Professor write the order myself. It’s right.”
His shoulders slumped, folder tipping from his hand until the papers slid free. They drifted slowly to the floor like late leaves of autumn, laying scattered across his feet. James didn’t notice. Only one question needed answering. One question to decide the fate of everything that came afterwards. “Why?”
“It will draw her closer to you. She will lean on you. It will make her all the riper for turning when you are gone.”
James lifted his gaze, mirth lacking in the dry chuckle. Cocking a weary brow, he asked, “Am I going somewhere?”
“Only away for a little while. You can return once she’s settled. Think of it as a sabbatical. Now.” Rochefort’s gaze narrowing to define the moment, “Will you do this, or not?”
“I haven’t failed yet. I won’t now.” James touched the tip of his cane to the floor. “That would be bad form.”
Beneath his moustache, Rochefort smiled thinly. “Indeed it would. You have between seven and nine o’clock tomorrow night. You need to be back by midnight. It must look like an accident or natural causes.”
“Obviously.”
“We don’t normally do accidents, but it’s been done. The Professor has faith. Cris will go with you. We need proof.”
“I assumed as much.”
They stood for several more beats, two alpha dogs circling one another without straying a step. James chose to blink first, and looked away.
“Goodnight then,” he said with a mocking little bow. Meeting the outer door with more force than necessary, James shoved it wide with a bang. Rattling glass, it drew a solitary passing look. He didn’t care. Letting it go, he strode down the walk without breaking stride. The tip of his cane never touched the cobbles.
