Her fingertips barely caught the edge of the metal platform, just as a boom much larger than the first nearly caused her to lose her grip. Her ratios must have been off as she mixed that one up, and it was about to come back and bite her. Her fingers lost their tenuous grasp and she began to fall. She started to scream, then a hand reached out from the dark platform above, catching her wrist and halting her decent. Before she could react, the hand hauled her upward and onto the platform as shouts about a fire erupted below.
Seconds later she was on her feet, face to mask with Hamlet.
“We should be leaving,” he said calmly over the shouts of the men.
Footsteps thundered up the nearby steel staircase. Hamlet glanced away, then back to her. “If you don’t mind,” he said, gesturing toward their pursuers reaching the top of the staircase.
Understanding his meaning, she retrieved her third and final bomb, then tossed it at the men. Both dove back down the stairs to avoid the ensuing explosion.
There was a secondary whoosh of flames as the explosion cleared. Uh oh. She caught sight of flames pouring out of the first story office. The men below were all heading for the exterior door, obscured by the haze of smoke.
Hamlet took her hand and tugged her toward the opposite end of the platform, where an open window waited. Terrified of being so close to Hamlet, but not wanting to stay in a building that was rapidly catching fire, she raced forward with him and dove through the window, trusting she’d be able to land without injury since they were only one story up.
Her feet hit the hard-packed ground of an empty storage lot, then her knees gave and she rolled a few times to absorb the impact. On her way back up to her feet, Hamlet whipped by her, grabbing her arm and tugging her toward a tall fence topped with razor-wire. For a moment she thought she was in for an exceedingly unpleasant experience, then she saw a hole in the fence, presumably where Hamlet had originally entered.
Hamlet watched her back while she crouched and hurried through the opening, then followed. They both escaped into the darkness, leaving the angry shouts of their assailants behind.
Liliana’s gaze flicked to Hamlet as they ran. It didn’t seem he’d be leaving her side any time soon. Though she was grateful to be alive, she was truly unsure if her situation had just gotten better, or worse.
Chapter 13
Liliana eyed Hamlet warily. They’d eventually stopped running, and were now walking through a quiet residential district, dominated by small shanties and other ramshackle abodes. She felt like the letter she’d found in the office was practically burning a hole in Arhyen’s satchel, but she was hesitant to reveal it to Hamlet.
“You could have easily killed all of those men,” she blurted as they walked, feeling increasingly awkward. It wasn’t every day she went for a late-night, or perhaps early-morning, stroll with a killing-machine.
“You seemed to have it covered,” he replied. He strolled along in an easy manner, his black overcoat flapping around the knees of his black trousers. His porcelain mask caught the moonlight at odd moments, making him appear ghostly beneath his short top hat.
“Did you set us up the other night-” she asked, halting her steps, “-when those men shot at us? You obviously knew where the building was, so there was no need for us to find it.”
He stopped and blinked at her in surprise. She wished she could remove his mask to tell if the surprise was genuine. “You went to that building before,” he stated rhetorically.
Liliana narrowed her eyes at him. Standing in the middle of the dark street was making her uneasy, but she supposed she didn’t have much to worry about with Hamlet around. Except Hamlet himself, that was.
“We were following up on information given to us by a . . . contact,” she explained. “He’d witnessed a building filled with medical equipment, and we thought it might be linked to the grave-robbings. When we went to investigate, the men there instantly fired upon us. I was shot and we were forced to leave.”
“You were shot?” he questioned, his tone confusing her. He seemed almost . . . concerned? But that couldn’t be right, he’d admitted that unlike her, he had no emotions.
She nodded. “I’m fine now. Arhyen and Ephraim carried me to safety and I recovered. Honestly, I thought you would have already known all of this.”
“I am only one man,” he explained, turning to resume his relaxed pace. “I cannot be in two places at once. I’ve been quite busy with other observations, which is why I needed you and your friends to investigate this area of the case.”
“What other observations?” she questioned, then bit her lip anxiously. She didn’t want to anger him with too many questions . . . then again, he wasn’t supposed to feel anger.
“The Captain of the Watch is protecting those we seek,” he explained blandly, keeping his eyes forward as he walked. “I’ve been watching him, waiting for him to slip up in a way that might expose the entire operation, or at the very least, lead me to those with whom he is working.”
Liliana frowned. “So you truly needed our assistance? We thought it was perhaps some sort of test.”
Hamlet nodded. “As I stated, I cannot be in multiple places at once. You and your friends are my only connections that I can rule out as part of this scheme, and Mr. Croft has ample motivation to aid me.”
She stopped walking, once again confused. “Ample motivation?”
Hamlet gently took hold of her arm and tugged her forward. “I explained to him that I would protect you if he helped me willingly. Did he not tell you?”
“Protect me from what?” she questioned, though she grew distracted as she realized they were on Tailor Street. They must have taken a roundabout path to reach it, as they’d been walking for some time. The sun was just beginning to show its first rays of light, reflecting off the glass storefronts.
“My employers, of course,” he replied. “You are my case, you see. If I were to turn you over to another within our organization, you would likely not be living as comfortably as you have been.”
She felt suddenly dizzy at the implications. She knew exactly what he was implying. The only thing standing between her, and those who would experiment on her, was Hamlet. At least, that was his claim.
She shook her head, needing to focus on the task at hand. “You said the Captain of the Watch is involved in all of this?” They headed west past the still-closed establishments, the direction that would eventually bring them back to more familiar areas of the city, though Liliana doubted that was where they were headed.
“Yes,” he replied. “You see, the Captain has a terminal illness. Those we seek contacted him, offering to cure him, but for a price. I am in possession of their early correspondences, but he has grown far more cautious. I imagine if someone alerted these people you were coming, it was likely him, since he sees Mr. Godwin regularly.”
Liliana cringed. Yes, that sounded about right. The Captain had a key to Ephraim’s office, after all. “Why not share this information with us sooner? It might have prevented the ambush.”
“Yes,” Hamlet muttered, “I do apologize for that. I had only hoped to send you on a different course of investigation, as mine was proving fruitless.”
Liliana stopped near one of the glass storefronts and looked up at him. “Why did you simply not apprehend the Captain to question him?”
Hamlet stared at her for a moment. “You really think quite lowly of me, don’t you?”
“I-I don’t-” she stammered, but he raised a hand to cut her off.
“I am not offended. You are likely correct in most of your assumptions,” he explained. “I would have apprehended him had I thought it would do more good than secretly observing him. His illness will claim his life within a year, so there is not much I could use to threaten him beyond torture, which I find distasteful.”
So he has morals after all, she thought. “So if you were observing the Captain,” she began hesitantly, “then how did you happen to be at that building, right when I needed help?�
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Hamlet leaned against the brick wall near the glass storefront and gazed out at the slowly rising sun. Liliana grew nervous knowing that soon the shopkeepers would arrive to open their various stores, and she and Hamlet would likely draw unwanted attention . . . though in observing him, he didn’t seem terribly concerned.
“I was near the station when Mr. Croft and Mr. Godwin were brought in for questioning,” he explained. “Since they were there and you were not, I knew you must have been left alone. I followed you as you left Mr. Croft’s apartment, then I entered the building through the same window we exited once I saw you go inside.”
She nodded as the first early-morning person appeared, likely a shop keeper judging by her modest gray dress and sensible, no-frills hat. She was about to suggest they leave the main street when the woman stopped to speak with a man in dirty, miner’s garb. She caught a hint of the women’s voice on the wind and thought it oddly familiar.
The woman spoke again, too far away for Liliana to make out more than the tone of her voice, but still, it suddenly registered. The woman in question was Catherine, Arhyen’s mother. Liliana had only seen her briefly, but now that she’d recognized the voice, her features clearly formed in her mind.
Keeping her eyes on Catherine, Liliana whispered to Hamlet, “We should follow that woman. I have a feeling she’s involved in all of this.”
“I’ve never seen her before,” Hamlet commented.
“Trust me,” Liliana whispered, feeling almost giddy with nerves. Spotting Catherine in this area of town could not be a coincidence, especially after Hazel had admitted she’d been cured of consumption by the very people they sought.
“Of course,” Hamlet agreed, then gently took Liliana’s hand.
She had no time to protest as he pulled her toward the side of the building, out of Catherine’s line of sight. She gazed up at him, thoroughly horrified he wasn’t listening to her.
“We cannot follow her in plain sight,” he explained with a sigh.
Liliana relaxed slightly. Given Hamlet had followed her all the way from Arhyen’s apartment without her noticing, he was likely far more skilled in stealth than she. She nodded quickly, then allowed Hamlet to tug her farther down street, away from Catherine. She hoped he knew what he was doing.
Arhyen blinked his eyes, struggling to sit up, though he didn’t get far. He could feel no bonds at his wrists and ankles, but really, he couldn’t feel much at all. His entire body was numb. As his eyes slowly came into focus, he struggled to see anything but the bright, overhead light.
The last thing he remembered was crawling through the cramped passage in the basement of the Watch station. He vaguely recalled seeing sunlight, then someone had attacked him, holding a cloth with harsh fumes over his mouth until he lost consciousness.
He had no idea how much time had passed since then. He squinted his eyes as a face came into view above him, one he did not recognize.
“Just relax,” the man said, the electric light reflecting across his slightly sweaty face and short, silver hair. “You’re under heavy anesthesia, so you will not be able to move for some time.”
Arhyen tried to speak, but found his jaw utterly slack.
The man held a scalpel up to the light, examining its fine edge. Scalpel still poised, he glanced down at Arhyen. “I suggest you close your eyes.”
Close his eyes? How in the blazes could he close his eyes when a madman was about to cut into him with a scalpel?
Another face stepped into view. Arhyen tried to form words, but they came out as an unintelligible mumble. If he’d been able to speak, he would have asked what in the blazes his sister was doing there.
She smiled down at him. Her dark curls had been pinned away from her face, and she wore a sterile white coat. “Sorry for apprehending you this way,” she said sweetly. “I had hoped to convince you to come willingly, but you and your little detective were getting far too close to the truth. You forced my hand.”
“Wha-” he mumbled, but she held up a hand to silence him.
“Do not try to speak,” she said softly. “You are under heavy anesthesia, so anything you say will likely be nonsense. All you need to know is that I will take care of you. You have nothing to worry about.”
Like hell, he thought. He had plenty to worry about while that man still had a scalpel in his hand.
“Take care with the operation,” Hazel muttered, sounding like she was a million miles away as more anesthesia seemed to hit him. He blearily registered that she was talking to the man with the scalpel, not him.
His world seemed to swim. When had his eyes closed? He knew he needed to escape, to avoid whatever operation Hazel had in store for him, but how? He managed to open his eyes again, only to find Hazel had disappeared, and the man once again had his scalpel poised.
He tried to scream, but nothing came out.
Chapter 14
Liliana ran full speed in the direction Hamlet had pointed her, just before he’d disappeared from sight. She went over the directions in her head. Five blocks down, left, three more blocks, right, two more blocks . . . what would happen after that, she was not sure.
The sun rose fully to kiss her unshielded face as she took a right, then went barreling down the final two blocks. She could see a dead end ahead, and no sign of Hamlet. Had he tricked her?
Just as she neared the intersection marking the end of the final two blocks, Catherine came stumbling into view, holding the gray skirt of her dress above her knees as if she planned to continue running once she’d finished panting from exertion. Hearing Liliana’s nearing footfalls, Catherine turned terrified eyes in her direction.
Unable to halt her momentum, Liliana rammed into her and they both went flying into the dead end, bordered by waste bins and the steel back doors of a shop. They fortunately ended on a low pile of grain sacks, somewhat cushioning their fall.
“Get off of me!” Catherine gasped, crushed between Liliana and the sacks.
Recovering quickly, Liliana rolled aside and got to her feet, just as Hamlet appeared at her side.
Catherine’s recovery was less graceful. She’d managed to sit up, but braced her left arm against her chest with a pained expression crinkling the gentle lines on her face.
“You planned that?” Liliana asked, her gaze darting to Hamlet’s masked face.
“Not that exactly,” he replied, “though we have achieved our mission. We are now in a secluded place in which we might question her.”
Catherine’s eyes widened as she stared up at Hamlet. “I haven’t done nothing wrong!” she cried out. “You’ve no right to question me!”
“Please, lower your voice,” he requested calmly.
Catherine bit a trembling lip, but did not reply. Her gaze instead moved to Liliana. Recognition suddenly dawned there, and her expression turned icy. “So this is how you repay someone for trying to help you?”
Liliana narrowed her eyes at her. “We need you to take us to the people who fixed your lungs,” she said evenly.
Catherine struggled to her feet, spurning Liliana as she reached out to help. “I don’t know where they are,” she grumbled.
“Really?” Liliana asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Hazel seemed to think you were working quite closely with them.”
Catherine’s eyes shifted nervously at the mention of Hazel. “She told you that?” she asked finally, disbelief clear in her tone.
Liliana nodded, not wanting to give away any more information than necessary. Fortunately, she didn’t have to.
“She’s the one working for them,” she growled. “Leading them, really. I was only working for her.”
Hamlet waited silently by Liliana’s side, observing the conversation. She wished he would jump in and aid her, but couldn’t say so out loud. Interrogation was not her strong suit.
“Who is she working with?” Liliana demanded. “We need names.”
Catherine glanced at Hamlet again. Liliana hadn’t seen him move, but he now h
eld a long, thin sword in his hand, its blade merely the width of Liliana’s thumb, though it appeared razor sharp. Catherine’s eyes watched the blade like it might be coming for her any moment.
“I was only trying to stay alive,” she gasped. “My daughter came back to me while I was still suffering from my disease. She seemed so . . . different, but I didn’t argue when she said she could help in return for a certain favor. Little did I know that favor required me to drag Arhyen back into our lives.” Her eyes turned to Liliana, pleading. “He did the right thing when he left. I would have never dragged him back in if I didn’t owe Hazel for saving my life.”
So Hazel was the one in control of the entire situation? Had she played a role in getting Arhyen and Ephraim getting arrested? “What about the rumor about my mother?” she asked out loud.
Catherine looked down at her feet, clearly ashamed. “I apologize. We made it up. Hazel had suspected involving you would be the easiest way to gain Arhyen’s cooperation.”
That much Liliana had expected, but she was glad to have it settled. “What does she want with Arhyen?”
Tears welled in Catherine’s eyes. “I don’t know. I think she intended to somehow make him part of her scheme.”
“What part?” Liliana snapped, exasperated. Her only recourse to remain calm was knowing Arhyen was safe at Watch headquarters, exempting him from Hazel’s plan.
Catherine glanced at Hamlet again. “The experiments,” she explained. “The same ones that saved my life. Hazel and the others are operating on people to make them little different than automatons, giving them new organs and tinkering with their brains. She didn’t tell me for sure, but I think Hazel was operated on herself. She’s incredibly strong and perceptive, but entirely different from the girl I once knew.”
So it was as they had expected, or perhaps even worse. The people they sought had not only been conducting experiments, they’d had successes. “Why are you telling us all this now?” she asked, unable to hide the quaver in her voice. “Why couldn’t you have told us this before? We could have helped you.”
Clocks and Daggers (The Thief's Apprentice Book 2) Page 13
