“Why not work with a place like this rather than those stuffed shirts at Taylor & Smith?” Theo murmured. Everything about Remington’s seemed more authentic, far more raw and real than the refined settings of the other storefront.
“Because Father will only work alongside those with connections to the gentry,” Silas responded, the annoyance ringing clear in his tone.
On the opposite side of the storefront, an old man with thick wire-rimmed glasses hunched over the countertop, working on a stylus similar to the one Silas kept in his pockets. Upon their approach, he glanced at them, even though his hands never stopped moving. She was reminded of the way she’d found Silas in his workshop, neck-deep in his latest project with his hands covered in grease and copper hair rumpled. A new and unwelcomed fondness warmed her chest.
The old man didn’t look like the kind of cad to stab her sister and leave her bleeding out in a back alley or kidnap and hold her against her will. If after this wait and after tromping all the way down here they’d found another hollow lead, Theo wouldn’t know what to do. She swallowed hard, trying to assemble the courage to face the inevitable dead-end she’d seen coming once they’d entered this place.
“What can I do for you?” the old man asked, his voice hoarse as if he needed to shake the cobwebs from it. “Are you looking for any parts?”
Theo shook her head. “A woman was last seen here two nights ago, and I’m searching for her. She’s my sister.”
The man squinted at her, trying to focus with those rheumy eyes. “She a girl about your age, but a bit taller?”
Theo’s heart sped at the recognition in his gaze. Maybe this hadn’t been a waste after all. “What was she doing here? When did you last see her?”
The old man glanced between her and Silas. “She planned on bringing us a part, but she never showed yesterday. I figured she either found another buyer or decided to keep the piece for herself.”
Theo shook her head, her throat tightening as the fears crawled in. A warm hand pressed on her shoulder, drawing her back. She didn’t need to look behind her to sense Silas’ presence because the scent of earth and amber surrounding him was a comfort in itself.
She sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “She never came home.” Theo twisted the conductor ring around her finger, unable to meet the man’s gaze. The longer she went without word from her sister, the greater the pit in her stomach grew, and each dead-end hammered another nail into her sister’s coffin.
The old man placed the stylus on his worn countertop and leaned in toward her. He cast a look toward the door, as if trouble would come storming in at any moment. “You weren’t the only ones to come looking for the Whitfield girl,” he said. “Though I don’t think you want to get tangled with Blair’s men. They’ve got a rough reputation.”
Theo’s stomach bottomed out. Of course. Her gut instinct had been true—her sister’s involvement with Blair and his boys had caught up with her. That man and his crew were the exact sort to the deliver the vicious retribution she feared.
Chapter Eight
The frustration was tangible in the air upon leaving Remington’s.
They had scoured the town for Ellie Whitfield only to come to the conclusion they should have drawn from the start. Except, Silas knew the odds of survival with a gang runner like James Blair. He’d hoped from the start to avoid this outcome, because their chances of stealing not only the diamond core from under the gang’s nose but of finding Ellie alive were negligible at best.
Theo strode beside him along the cobbled streets back to Barnsbury with her thumbs hooked in the pockets of her trousers. Her dark brows furrowed, and she pursed her mouth as if she’d surrendered to deep thought. Silas itched to reach out and take her into his arms. After the glimpse of the woman behind her steel exterior, he’d fallen even further for the way she would put her happiness and dreams on the line for her family. The closeness between the Whitfield women was one he envied, a connection worth fighting for.
“It should have been plain as a pipe-stem she’d be with Blair,” Theo murmured. “All of this wasted time and I could’ve gone straight to his shack on the upper section of Islington.”
They strode past the warehouse district filled with the steady pulsing of surrounding footsteps and the whine of heavy machinery. Street vendors hollered when they came out to sell lunchtime wares to whoever managed to slip out of their shift to grab a bite. Silas fiddled with his cufflinks while he kept an even pace.
“And what would you have done? Drawn iron and prayed you shot down at least a few lurkers before they overtook you? As admirable as the thought of one woman against a coterie of thieves is, we both know it’d be unadulterated idiocy.” Silas didn’t mind the sharpness in his tone, because he refused to encourage any suicide attempts by her rushing in half-cocked to storm Blair’s building.
Theo shot him a glare, balling her hands into fists by her side. “I can’t abandon her because it’s dangerous. I understand if the diamond core isn’t worth the risk to you, but I have to try regardless.” Determination flashed in those heartbreaker eyes, amplifying his urge to tilt her stubborn chin up and kiss her.
“At no point did I say I would abandon you.” Silas’ voice came out husky with a strength that surprised him. “However, if we’re to retrieve your sister and not end up as yet more bodies in an Islington alleyway, we can’t rush in with only the weapons on our persons.” Already, the warehouses had begun to transition into more row homes and elegant storefronts while they walked along the main stretch into the next district. The cobblestones weren’t as worn, the paint on the buildings was fresher and even the individuals strolling past them on the streets wore clothes in finer repair.
Theo lifted an eyebrow as her shoulders relaxed, and she unclenched her fists. “What did you have in mind?”
The begrudging softness in her voice had turned into an addiction for him, a reminder of the way her body had melted into his embrace the night before. Somehow, despite the different paths their lives had taken, the trust from back when they’d run the streets together hadn’t been extinguished. The more honesty they exchanged, the more their currency turned into a bond he hadn’t forged with any other soul before her.
As much as the logical side of him begged to let the diamond core and the girl go, he couldn’t. Storming Blair’s shack asked for trouble, but he’d rather fight a dozen lurkers than witness the devastation on Theo’s face if she never got her sister back. Even though the odds of Ellie’s survival grew slimmer by the second, he needed to fight for the chance—which meant their pistols and knives wouldn’t do.
With a tinkerer and a technomancer on the job, if they couldn’t come up with a better alternative, they should be excised from their fields post haste. A slow smile rose to his face.
“We need to make a stop off at Kylock Industries. Hopefully, my father’s taken it upon himself to retire to the estate for the day, so we can avoid his unpleasantness.” Silas’ mind ran a mile a minute, and he could barely focus on the ideas while maintaining a steady pace. Theo cast him an inquisitive look.
“No time like the present.” Silas flashed her a smile, grabbed her hand, and together they raced through the streets of London.
By the time they reached Kylock Industries, Silas and Theo back slanged it, not wasting time with the attendant or announcing their presence. Avoiding his father was an essential part of this plan, which contained its own set of risks. One was his father’s wrath, but Silas had a knack for incurring that on his own. As he unlocked the door, the midday sun pounded onto his back, rays spilling into the alley.
He entered the back room, the scent of pine mingling with the copper, bronze and brass from the automatons crowded in this room. It was situated behind his workshop, which contained wire shelving with crates upon crates of his creations ready to be shipped. If his father hired another tinker, they would have the business to fill a warehouse, without a doubt. However, Kylock Sr. preferred his exclusive buyers, fo
cusing on connections to enhance his own standing rather than broadening their market to anyone with enough coin. While many sought out Silas’ craftsmanship, the restricted buyers kept his works in the hands of the wealthiest clientele.
Theo leaned against the interior brick wall. The beams of sunlight that streamed in through the window highlighted the shades of tawny brown in her dark curls. “Are you thinking of using those aether bombs again?” she asked, her eyebrows drawn together and a concerned crease on her forehead.
“I’m glad one of us can think in more refined terms than explosions,” he said, arching an eyebrow when their eyes met. He hid the smile threatening to break.
Theo pursed her lips and fixed him with a look so indignant the laugh burst from his chest. No matter how well they’d been getting on, with her serious nature and short temper, Theo Whitfield was far too much fun to rile up.
“Better than your stroke of genius,” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you plan for us to march there in broad daylight and launch an attack with the whole world watching? The coppers will swarm like ants to bread.”
He spun around to face her and grabbed her hands, unable to resist the spark of connection that soared through him every time they touched.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, meeting her gaze. She stared at him with the sharp, wary eyes of a hawk, but a moment later they softened. Theo nodded, the raw vulnerability in the movement suffusing his chest with warmth. He grinned at her. “We need to move fast and quiet, before my father comes back or one of the vendors arrives for a pickup. I doubt they’ll look kindly on us making off with Kylock Industries’ stock.”
Theo’s jaw dropped as understanding descended like a stone. Her gaze grew hungry, and by the way she twisted her conductor ring, she had figured out what he had in mind. Silas grabbed the dolly from the corner of the room they kept it tucked in and began to load several crates from the shelves, ones he knew on sight since he’d packed them in the first place.
Theo’s grip tightened around one of the crates she prepared to lift from the wire shelving. She stopped and glanced to him. “Why?” she asked, her voice quieting. “Why risk everything? Your father might forgive the diamond core being stolen, but he won’t forgive this.”
Silas’ heart thundered in his chest at the question, at how she pierced to the core of the situation. He knew what sort of trouble this would bring down on him, but for the first time in his life, he wasn’t paralyzed by the consequences. His father had held power over him for so long Silas had almost forgotten how to stand on two feet, lessons he’d just begun to learn in Islington before the Kylocks had come into their fortune.
“Because it took a stubborn technomancer willing to risk everything for those she cared about to remind me I was capable of a little daring too.” He offered her a half-smile, trying to ignore the way his pulse quickened and his heart twisted with the intensity of his admiration for her. He’d offered many, many lies in his day, but this was the solemn truth, and by the blazes, it felt glorious.
Theo’s neck bobbed as she swallowed but she didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t need to. The intensity of what blossomed between them weighted the air, threatening to ignite. Theo placed the crate on the dolly atop the other ones, five loaded down at this point. Any more and the thing would capsize in the streets.
Footsteps boomed from the opposite end of the storefront, the louder than average sound of the thick-soled shoes his father liked to wear. Silas’ heart sped, and he couldn’t help the giddiness that bubbled up in him at spitting in the eye of the man who’d scorned him for so long.
“He’s coming,” Silas said, grabbing the handle of the dolly and pushing it toward the door. “We need to scram and fast. He’ll be sounding the alarms and filing a complaint once he sees his merchandise missing.”
Theo moved three steps ahead, holding the door wide open. He maneuvered the dolly, surprised at how light his automatons were. He’d spent a long time crafting them, but he wasn’t the one who handled transportation. The pounding of the footsteps grew louder by the second, and the creak of the workshop door resounded, loud even from where they stood.
Silas gave the dolly a push, and it slid effortlessly down the ramp. He hadn’t gone more than a few feet out into the alleyway when Theo shut the door behind him. She tilted her head to where the alley continued on behind other storefronts, running parallel with the main stretch of cobblestone. Anyone could guess how long they had, but the sooner they got out of there quick, quiet and with as few bystanders as possible, the better.
“I’m presuming you know where Blair and his men hold their court?” Silas called out when they turned down another side street behind one of the many storefronts in this area.
In the back, the stench of rotten fish, excrement and decaying leaves threatened to overwhelm him while muck lined what few cobblestones there were. The rest of the way lay unpaved, a dirt path riddled with patches of mud and potholes.
Theo snorted as her thumb circled around the handle of her pistol. “While I might give my sister some free rein, I did keep tabs on Ellie. We’re a short stroll away from Blair’s den of villainy on the north side of Islington.”
“Right then,” he said, grunting as he pushed the dolly over another couple of bumps in the road.
Already, between the intense sun and the exertion of their quick turns, drops of sweat pricked his forehead, several tickling as they wound their way down. Silas kept his ears open as he and Theo continued their way across narrow streets and the back alleys behind the main stretches. Not that he expected his father’s screams of rage and irritation to travel all the way, but he wished he could witness the sight.
“We’ll scout the place today,” Theo said, trailing beside the dolly while she gave the crates the occasional nudge into place. “However, as much as I want to storm in, I think we can agree we’d stand our best chances at night. If we’re lucky, maybe Blair and his boys will be out bug hunting on the town.”
Silas shook his head, drops of sweat flying to hit the dusty ground. “You’re off the grass. With our luck, we’ll show up tonight to find his entire troupe of idiots prepared to thrash us into the next century.” The farther away from Barnsbury, the more the ground grew uneven and rundown. This close to the north of Islington, Silas was more than aware of the fact he was toting stolen cargo through streets where any drunk or lurker would offer a knife to the gut in fair exchange.
His forearms tensed while he continued to push the dolly through street and alley alike. He might be on edge, but so was Theo. The woman’s hand never left her Derringer, and her gaze roved each shadow or slip of movement as she and Silas continued past the sections of town not entirely in ruin and into familiar territory.
His grip tightened around the handle. Tonight, they would bring this business to a close. Whatever state they found Ellie and the diamond core in, they would find their resolution.
Tonight would also bring farewells.
Chapter Nine
As the sun cast its last gasps of amber and peach tendrils across the horizon, Theo’s nerves began to reach an unbearable point, and the back-and-forth pace outside her tenement turned into a marching crescendo. After making sure her mother took her medicine, she’d stepped out of the flat as soon as possible to avoid the shared worry stifling the air in her home. Even though Eleanor Whitfield hadn’t inquired again about Ellie, the question lingered between them in every glance and every silence.
“What’s causing the storm on your horizon?” an old, raspy voice came from behind her. Theo spun around to catch sight of Ol’ Man Sal on the landing with the same cigar he’d been working on the night before. His wrinkles creased with his grin, and those dark eyes gleamed. “Don’t tell me that Kylock boy broke your heart?”
Theo flashed Sal a smile with teeth. “That would require me having a heart in the first place. Unless you’ve seen my sister strolling about town today, I’m in the same quandary as before—Ellie pulled a
vanishing act two days ago.”
Embers from his cigar glowed while he pulled in a slow drag. The exhale of smoke filtered through the air, drifting to the darkening sky. “I wish I had better news for you, girlie.”
Theo shrugged, attempting to look unaffected even as her chest saturated with the fears she fought to keep at bay. She knew quite well the risks involved in what she and Silas would be attempting tonight. The idea of leaving her mother entirely alone scored her insides. If she didn’t come back and if Ellie hadn’t survived—Theo swallowed, hard.
“You’ve known my mother for a long time, right, Sal?” she asked, her voice growing a touch thick at the direction she was taking this conversation. He nodded in response, letting out another stream of smoke. The rich, heady scent tickled her nose. Even entertaining these thoughts devastated her, yet she couldn’t head into this fight without knowing her mother would be taken care of. “She needs to take her medicine, and she doesn’t always do that.”
He met her eyes and gave a slow nod in return. Neither of them needed to voice those fears aloud, as if doing so would turn them true.
“Don’t be throwing yourself into the river, Theodosia Whitfield,” he murmured, grinding the embers of his cigar on the flat of his boot. Without another word, Sal opened the door of the main entrance and slipped inside the tenement building.
His warning made her shiver, and guilt coated her like a second skin. If both she and Ellie perished, her mother wouldn’t survive. Yet, she couldn’t consign her little sister to whatever fate she’d gotten herself into. Ellie might pull foolish stunts, and she always skated the law, but her heart was true. Every penny Ellie earned went to food for their table and for the occasional necklace she brought to Theo as a way to ‘dispel that dour frown.’
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