by April White
Archer did as I asked, putting himself between the Maglite beam and Holborn station. The door I’d found had a rigid electrical cable running through the wall next to it, which was what I’d kicked. There was no handle, just an indentation to pull it shut and a lock. Instinctually, I looked up. There was no lintel above the door – nothing to stick out into the tunnel and potentially catch on a passing train. But I reached up anyway, and felt what I’d hoped to find.
“There’s a recessed shelf, just like the door handle,” I whispered as I patted around, praying there were no spiders up there waiting to attack my groping fingers.
“Got it,” I said, drawing the flat key from its hiding place above the door. I loved lazy people who left keys hidden in convenient places.
The lock turned fairly easily, and I pushed the door open and handed the key back to Archer to replace. Then I stepped into the narrow passageway. “Let me make sure there’s a way out before you close it,” I whispered.
He handed me the Maglite and I aimed it as far in front of me as it would shine. This place was a long passageway that must have been a conduit between two tunnels. The light didn’t reach quite far enough for me to see the end, but from the angle of the passageway, I realized it wasn’t a straight line between the tunnels, but more like the zag of a Z. I only had to take a couple of steps before the other door began to be visible. It had a lever handle on the inside, and as I had hoped, it was unlocked. I clicked off the Maglite and pulled the door open very slowly. It seemed even more quiet and still than the tunnel behind us was, and I stood there for at least thirty seconds listening to the silence. Finally, I closed the door again and clicked the Maglite back on.
“You can close it,” I whispered loudly to Archer. I kept the light on, but turned back to the door to see if it would lock when we closed it from the other side. Archer’s arms wrapped around me from behind and he hugged me close for a long moment. I melted into the feeling of just being held.
“I can imagine it,” he whispered in my ear. “A long shower with endless hot water, a rug by the fire, and a bed with velvet drapes to shut everyone and everything else away.”
“Hmm,” I smiled dreamily. “Sounds wonderful. Here, hold this.” I broke out of his arms and handed him the Maglite.
He laughed softly. “What are you doing?”
I had pulled a piece of chalk from my pocket. “Drawing us a spiral so we can go find that endless hot water shower.” I had three segments of the spiral finished and was half way through the fourth when I looked back at him. “Aren’t you coming?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “An exit strategy, I understand. But to leave now? I don’t believe you would do it.”
I leaned back against the wall with a sigh. “When do I get to have a life that’s not about jumping around in time trying to save the world, or whatever my stupid superhero cape says?” I glanced at Archer and smirked. “Sounds really arrogant doesn’t it?”
He had a straight face, but I could see the effort it cost him to keep it. “A little.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes the cape itches and I don’t want to wear it.”
He shrugged. “So don’t.”
I sighed again, just for drama, because the moment called for a little drama. “Whatever this is, it isn’t over yet. But I promise you, that cape is going to the cleaners the minute it is.”
Archer did smile then. “You have a deal.”
I finished the spiral just for the aesthetics of it. “You know how I knew I wasn’t going anywhere?”
“Besides the fact that you’re still wearing the superhero cape?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Yes. Besides that.”
“How?”
“There was no buzz in this spiral.”
That got his attention. “You mean it’s not a portal?”
“Oh, it’s probably a portal, but I didn’t need it to open for me I guess.”
Archer tilted his head and looked at the spiral I’d drawn. “So it really is an escape hatch then?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Hopefully not. In any case, it’s here if we need it.”
Archer – Present Day
I thought we might need that escape route.
In any case, I intended to show it to Adam.
I’d brought him into the Underground through the old Aldwych station. It was locked, of course, but not especially secure. They had most recently used the platform for filming an episode of Sherlock, so it was free of debris, and once we were on the platform it was a simple drop to the same dead track Saira and I had traveled that night of the air raid in 1944.
Saira.
My wife.
That one fact overrode every other memory that had been crowding into my brain since she left. I had seen so much death and horror during that war – so much that I’d buried it as deeply as my psyche would allow – and yet one fact made all of it fade into sepia images from the long-ago past.
I had married her.
There was a profound sense of relief that came with the knowledge that she wore my ring. It was relief for her security, and because she had finally chosen me. I’d long ago given up the ring as lost. To know that in fact I’d given it, as I’d always intended, to the woman I loved more than words could ever convey gave me remarkable peace.
I no longer felt separate from myself, nor jealous of the man I’d been. My memories of being with Saira felt fresh and real, and a part of me looked forward to each night’s new batch of truths. I had resented having to stay behind and lived in constant fear for her safety, but the new memories were like looking through a portal into the past to see everything we did as we did it. It created a bit of a fugue effect in my brain though, which I anticipated would only get worse as this night wore on.
Tonight, as Adam and I crept silently along the branch line track where the Elgin Marbles had once been kept safe from German bombs, the Descendant Council was meeting. If Camille Arman had her way, there would be a vote to oust Markham Rothchild as Head of the Mongers, but as far as I knew, Claire was still opposed to a move that drastic until they had a possible replacement. Adam had gotten word from Ava that Seth Walters was not in evidence, and so far, neither was the Monger ring.
Only Jeeves and the Edwards boys were privy to our use of the Aldwych station access, which we had worked out from the urban explorers’ recounting of their adventures underground. I had expected more of a fight from Connor and Logan when I told them to stay behind, and their stoic acceptance still worried me. Connor could be rational – I’d seen it so often in medieval France when he’d had to manage Jehanne – but I didn’t delude myself into thinking Logan had any regard for things like rules and safety. To be fair, his ability to Shift into any animal he chose made him nearly impervious to harm, but I didn’t necessarily credit him with the sense or experience to know how to use that ability strategically.
No one knew about the memories that had begun to crowd my head. I supposed that if I’d been sensible, I would have waited to come down here until I remembered what had happened to us in that Underground tunnel during the air raid. But the Seer blood in my veins boiled with warnings, and I could sense the same tension in Adam behind me.
The air in the branch tunnel was as dead as the track until we rounded a bend and a breeze picked up a bit of trash. I dragged my hand along the wall until my fingers found the edge of the access door.
“Shine a light here. You need to see this,” I whispered to Adam.
He allowed the penlight to flash quickly on the wall where the door was barely visible under the black grime of disuse and age.
“Now up.” I directed.
His light illuminated the recess exactly where Saira had found it, and I reached up, hoping the key had never been removed. It was there, just where it had lain for more than half a century. Adam’s beam of light found the indented door-pull with the lock beneath it, and a moment later, I turned the key. The lock was tight, but the mechanism still turned smoothly, and I replaced the key a
bove the door.
“Take your light to the end of the tunnel, but turn it off before you try the other door,” I said quietly.
Adam was quick and efficient, and a few moments later he flashed his light at me to indicate the other door was unlocked. He waited with the door closed and the flashlight pointed at the floor.
“How did you know about this passage?” he asked when I reached him.
“Saira and I came here during the war.”
“During the ...” He stared at me. “How do you know that?”
“Memories. They’ve been hitting since she left.”
His stare turned incredulous. “You mean you’re remembering stuff as it happens to you in the past?”
“More or less.”
“What are you doing right now … then?”
“We’ve just left this access passage and have switched to the Central line.”
“You know how to get there because you’re … going there … then?”
“The obvious difference between now and then is that once you and I step out of this passage, the Central line track will be live.”
He shrugged. “So, as long as we keep our footing, and if we can make it past the CCTV at Holborn station, we’ll just have Mongers to worry about?”
“Mongers who have kidnapped more than forty people.”
Adam’s scoff was mocking. “We can take ‘em.”
My expression was deathly serious. “Be very clear, Adam. I cannot just injure or maim a Monger. If there is blood, I will have to kill them rather than risk turning even one. I will not be responsible for unleashing yet another Monger Vampire on this world.”
Adam was suddenly still, and his eyes didn’t leave mine. “Tom isn’t dangerous,” he whispered finally.
“Not here or now,” I said.
“Not then, either.” Adam sounded desperate.
“He’s working for the Germans.” It was strange to speak of something from the war in present tense, but it was still unfolding in the past.
“I know he has a reason. Do you guys—” he paused and sighed. “You and Saira, in the past, do you know about Tom’s great-grandfather – George Walters?”
“No. We have realized the museum treasures stored on the tracks are probably the Germans’ target, but we don’t know about Tom’s personal connection to the museum.”
This was not a productive conversation to be having at this moment, so I took the torch from Arman’s hand and clicked it off, then reached past him for the door handle. “Despite the late hour and the lack of trains, no one is ever alone in the Underground. Tread quietly and carefully, and perhaps, if we’re lucky, we’ll actually make it out of here alive.”
I ignored his angry sniff, adjusted the knapsack on my back, and proceeded out of the passage ahead of him.
I could just hear the hum of electricity from the live rails of the Central line track, though I doubted anyone other than myself or a Shifter could. It was a curious byproduct of the mutation that kept my cell death in stasis. Without cell death, I experienced no hearing or vision loss, which actually occurred as an enhancement of my senses. Taste, touch, and scent were enhanced too, as well as strength and endurance. I hadn’t felt tired in more than a century, and oddly, it was one of the things I truly missed.
As Adam had said, the CCTV cameras at Holborn station were going to be challenging, and my excursion to the station as a Tube passenger earlier in the evening hadn’t revealed any secrets to getting past them. I didn’t often choose to travel by Underground train, and the last time I’d gone to Epping Wood to hunt had been three days ago. I knew I was skirting the edges of advisability for a man with my need for blood, and yet, if I were truly honest with myself, the syringe in my pocket felt a little like a safety valve. I knew it was ludicrous, because what would I truly do? Throw myself in front of a train, then inject the cure and see what happened? Of course not. But I was so very tired of harming other creatures in my need to sustain myself.
I could still sense Arman’s tension behind me as we approached Holborn station, but it had shifted into something less defensive and more wary. Despite my initial jealously of his friendship with Saira, I liked Arman. He was loyal and honorable, and notwithstanding his natural arrogance, he had an easy way with people I found admirable. He would become an interesting man, I thought, and I intended to see he made it through this night to get there.
A sound stopped me in my tracks, and Arman nearly walked into me before he heard it too. Something was coming from the tunnel behind us.
Something on four legs.
Damn!
I spun to face the Wolf that ran down the tracks, his silver coat just visible in the dim light from the station. Arman gasped, and then recognized the Wolf as I had. I put my finger to my lips in warning to him as the Wolf padded to a stop behind Arman and looked at us with a tilted head as if to say, what are you waiting for?
I wanted to yell at Connor, to chase him back through the tunnel and away from the danger that waited for us in the dark. Anger surged up at his complete disregard for my order to stay behind, and Arman took a step back from me.
And then feathery, furry wings touched my face and I bit back a yell. The wings brushed my hair as the creature passed me and flew toward the platform. When it hit the dim safety lights of the station I saw the bat, small and black and perfectly suited to the imagined horrors of underground London. I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity that I, a bat-creature of legends, had just been frightened by a bat.
The bat suddenly darted up, and I bit back my tirade at the Wolf behind me to see what had drawn the creature’s attention. I crept forward cautiously, aware that according to Connor’s research, there were one hundred and thirty-one CCTV cameras spread throughout Holborn station. Not all of them were on the Piccadilly line platform, obviously, nor even most of them, as these tracks were still part of the branch line to Aldwych. Still, even divided among six platforms, including the two branch ones, there were certainly eyeballs aimed in all directions.
In fact, the bat appeared to be heading straight for the camera that was aimed at the mouth of the tunnel in which we stood. It fluttered up and seemed to hover in front of the lens, as though to block its view.
And then the bat Shifted … into an even bigger version of itself, but with a bit of red-gold on its head and a wingspan of what looked like almost five feet across. Arman came up behind me and almost got punched for whispering in my ear. “What the hell is a Philippine fruit bat doing in London?”
Did everything grow larger in the Philippines? “It’s Logan,” I whispered back as the Bat settled its body in front of the camera. “Come on.”
I stepped out into the dim glow of the emergency lights that remained on for maintenance crews. Arman and the Wolf followed close behind me, and despite the enormous Bat blocking the nearest camera, we still hugged the platform wall.
The Bat suddenly squeaked at us and we froze in place. It Shifted back to the much smaller English version of itself, then flew to a camera I hadn’t seen, and Shifted back to the Fruit Bat as it settled its large body in front of the lens. We crept forward again. Logan repeated the maneuver two more times until we were finally back in the relative safety of the dark tunnel on the other side of the station. He then Shifted back into his smaller version and flitted around my head as I headed deeper into the darkness.
Finally, when it was pitch black and we were deep enough into the silent tunnel before it rejoined the main Piccadilly line coming from Covent Garden, I stopped and whispered sternly, “Shift, but watch the track.”
It was cold down here, and I knew both boys would have nothing on, but I wasn’t feeling very generous at the moment.
“That was cool, right?” Logan’s whisper held the excitement of a boy who had just done something clever. I took a breath and reigned in the fury I had been about to unleash.
“Does anyone know you’re here?”
Logan’s whispered tone shifted to something defen
sive. “I told Connor I was going to follow you to make sure you got past the cameras. I’ve done it before loads of times, and it never sets off any alarms. But obviously, it’s no good revealing your location if your backup follows you.”
“Uncle Bob would kill me if I let you come alone,” Connor murmured angrily.
“Without a doubt,” I agreed, and I sensed some of Connor’s tension loosen its grip on his breath.
I sighed. “You’d both be much safer at home.”
“You’re both much safer with us here,” Logan shot back. The sad thing was, I didn’t disagree.
I was silent long enough to make Logan shift his feet nervously. “I don’t retain the illusion that you’ll do what anyone says because you respect authority, but perhaps you’ll respect my considerable experience and do what I say when I say it. Otherwise, I’d prefer you leave so I don’t put myself in danger trying to protect you.”
I was speaking to Logan, as I knew Connor the way soldiers know each other. His loyalty and commitment were unwavering, and I actually did feel we had a better chance with him next to us. Logan’s Shifting skills were undeniable; it was his attitude I questioned.
He finally moved, and I thought it was a nod. “What do you need me to do?” he whispered.
I exhaled quietly. “Return to Bat form – the small one, please – and scout the track ahead. There’s a small branch off to the right side, I believe, which is where you’ll find the British Museum station. Stay off the rails – they’re live – and close to the walls where motion is less likely to be detected. Look for Mongers in particular, and pay attention to numbers of people. Anyone walking around, let us know where and how many.”
“Got it.” He didn’t even hesitate and was barely done Shifting before he was gone down the tunnel.
Every ounce of my responsible nature rebelled against sending an eleven-year-old boy into danger, and yet he was very likely the safest one of us all. I turned to the others. “Arman, when we get there, your whole focus is rounding the captives up and leading them out. Use the service passage to get back to Aldwych if you have to, but make sure you get them to safety.”
