The Wishing Heart

by J. C. Welker

  Bewilderment swept over Rebel and Anjeline at his sudden possession of it, but neither had time to question him as the twins were nearly upon them. Anjeline nodded. Her magic might be limited without a wish, but perhaps she could as least guide a flower. She leaned in, squeezed her lips together, and blew. An invisible force shrouded the aconite blossom and fluttered the pollen into the air. Petals swirled above, catching in a breeze, passing overtop human heads toward their goal.

  Just when lycanthrope eyes were drifting toward them—a second before they would likely zero in on the Wishmaker—the twins stopped in their tracks.

  As though hit with a current of wind, Styria and Vandal began blinking uncontrollably. Their features twisted between predator and human. The color of their irises flashed from amber to gray. They stumbled backward into the middle of the train, grabbing at their faces, and a sudden expulsion of air shot from their noses. Passengers gaped at them.

  The train jerked and slowed to another stop.

  Before anyone could move, Styria and Vandal growled and propelled through passengers, shouldering their way to claw at the windows. Once the doors hissed open, they tumbled out, and in a blink of an eye, were gone.

  Rebel released the breath she’d been holding for dear life, and the furious grip on her arm lessened. Anjeline looked curiously at Jaxon, but if she were surprised, she didn’t show it. “You carry wolfsbane?” she asked.

  “Where on earth did you get it?” Rebel stared at him in slight betrayal.

  “Told you I have my ways.” With a single, gloved finger, Jaxon clicked his toothpick holder shut. “While you two were snuggling, I was preparing.”

  He had the nerve to wink at Rebel and she glowered, more out of bravado for not thinking of it herself. She wondered if there weren’t many other things he was concealing from her. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

  Jaxon pursed his lips before letting out a dramatic sigh. “For one, our club simply won’t do for your protection.”

  “These traders you’re taking us to have someplace safer?”

  “Someplace near the river.” He nodded, smiling. At last, the train came to their stop: Tower Gateway. But as the doors dinged opened, his grin faded. “Down the rabbit hole.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The Tower Bridge was one of Rebel’s favorite places in London, with its spiking towers reflecting off the surface of the river like horns of some great beast. The first time she’d glided across the bridge’s upper walkway as a child, she almost believed she might fly. Wished she could. She’d marveled at how high up she’d been without ever touching the clouds. Even if she couldn’t dip her fingers in their fluffiness, she’d watch the birds soar, wishing she could follow as the wind sang its sweet song, beckoning her up into the ether.

  Tonight, however, the song was spiteful.

  The winter’s frozen saliva slapped across Rebel’s face, scattering snow flurries like needles in her eyes. The wind flapped a few stubborn hairs into Anjeline’s face, and icy flakes clung to her own lashes before melting from her heat. Moonlight glinted off the water as they ambled behind Jaxon, walking along the embankment of the Thames River, the mile-long path covering the drainage system to their destination. The bridge seemed to increase in size as they approached, the lights from the Tower of London illuminating it in a halo, the points extending up into eternity.

  In the distance, a church bell chimed.

  The crowd around the bridge had thinned of tourists and a mist clung to the night where they seemed to be walking inside of a cloud. Rebel ran the back of her hand under her freezing nose as they came to the bridge’s base. “Explain to me again why these traders stash down here?” Her voice echoed, mixing with the shush of the river.

  “Why not?” Jaxon replied. “It’s hidden. It’s by the river, with easy access to traders bringing their bounty in from the ports.”

  More flurries came in off the river and Rebel shivered, but the heat of Anjeline’s closeness scared it away. “And what makes you believe these traders have anything to do with magic?” she added.

  “Several times I heard them speak terrible things about a Night Guard. Plus, they’re highly superstitious and wary of outsiders.” Jaxon shined the flashlight around, steering them to the flagstone steps, leading toward the lower tunnels underneath the bridge. The leering gargoyles set into the bridge gave Rebel the creeps as they went downward, until the sounds of the river grew louder, and the air colder.

  Without a word, Anjeline glanced at Rebel sideways and took her arm hostage, walking close enough so her heat encircled them. “I disagree with this plan,” she finally voiced, her hot breath misting in the air.

  Jaxon peered over his shoulder. “What don’t you like, jinni?”

  She squinted at him. “Foxes. Nor do I like your vagueness about these people you’re pawning us off to.”

  Rebel turned, nearly bumping into Anjeline’s face, and looked at her in the gleam of the light. Her eyes were fevered, radiant with something Rebel knew was concern. “It’s one of the rules,” she told her. “Secrets are what keep you safe.”

  “They’re also what bury you,” Anjeline said.

  Can’t argue with that. Rebel glanced at him. “How safe are these people?”

  “So safe they don’t even walk the streets.” Jaxon offered a grin, stepping them farther down the tunnels. His coat rippled, dark and tail-like in the breeze.

  Something felt odd about all of this. Still, Rebel trusted him enough to follow him into God knew where. If they’d stayed unsheltered any longer, it would be a matter of time before some magician or wolf sniffed them out, but how these people could lead her to an answer for Anjeline—if they could—she had no idea.

  The deeper they went, the thicker the river’s aroma hung in the air and the tunnel stones sloshed with wetness underfoot. A rat scurried across their path and paused before staring up at Anjeline. Bending down, she reached out and the rat stepped into her palm. She held it respectively in front of her face as it chattered at her. With a nod, Anjeline wrinkled her nose like a rat and voiced, “They say we shouldn’t be here.”

  Rebel looked at the rat. The rat looked back at her. “Why not?”

  “The same reason people don’t want rats in their habitat.” Jaxon waved it off.

  The rat made a rude sound and skittered away. They reached another set of stone stairs leading down, covered in river water. Decades of mold mixed alongside a shimmer of fish bones and scales. Rebel’s boots splashed through some kind of slime congealed on the floor, brimming with fish scales. It seeped through the cracks in her boots, freezing her toes and making squishing sounds with each step. “Jax, I’m hating you right now.”

  “Watch yourself, love,” he said. “The slime is thick.”

  The slime wasn’t anything like Rebel had ever seen in nature. Regardless, she scoffed at it. “Please, I’m the Fingersmith, born with magical hands and feet—”

  Her boot slid on a patch of muck and her body went flying forward in a slow elongated moment. She reached out, grabbing onto the wall. Chips of stones gave way and she tumbled down. A mere second later, she hit the end, shoulders slammed against stone but something gripped onto Rebel’s head, softening the blow.

  Then that something, or someone, landed on top of her.

  A hip banged against hers, accompanied by a head, a groan, and then heat. Arms and legs entwined with hers in a parody of affection, locked in an embrace. Rebel inhaled against the silky veil of hair blanketing her face. “You hit my forehead,” Anjeline mumbled, so close Rebel felt hot breath on her cheek.

  “You’re smothering me with hair.” Rebel blew it out of her mouth.

  “He said watch your step. You’re too stubborn to listen.”

  “You could have let go of my arm.”

  “You didn’t leave me much choice. You would have cracked your skull if I hadn’t.” Anjeline removed her unmarked hand from the back of Rebel’s head, which had been cupping it like a shield.


  “That was…sweet,” Rebel said and saw a deep concern on Anjeline’s face for her well-being. Her pulse thrummed in her ears as adrenalin rushed through her veins. She felt a stronger tingling up and down her body and then…“Is that your hand on my thigh?”

  Anjeline cocked her head. “Is that yours on mine?”

  Jaxon snickered and stepped over them. “If you two are done groping, shall we continue?”

  In a swift movement, Anjeline stood, though mumbling something that sounded positively profane. With the help of Jaxon, Rebel rolled to her feet, brushing off the slime, and ignored her insides whiffling. He ushered them into a larger tunnel passage, where the river water began to rise above mid-shoe level and the stench of chum grew overwhelming. Rebel was sure she’d smell for days after this.

  Jaxon’s flashlight glinted off more garbage. Drifting on the water’s surface were clumps of slime, plastic bottles, a baby carriage, and fragments of animal carcasses, which increased the farther they went, until the walls were covered in overgrown moss and the river darkened.

  Soon, light filtered into the tunnel, flaming from torches set into wall niches, which seemed rather unconventional. The deeper they went, the river cast a blue light upon the ceiling and reflected back on the surface, looking as if the water itself was glowing. At last they reached an opening where other passageways led off and the floor sloped downward. Loose stones and crumbling cement bordered an underground pool of water.

  Jaxon stopped and pulled a glistening conch shell from his coat. He put it to his lips and blew. The conch’s cry echoed through the tunnels, getting lost and then reverting off the stone walls back at them.

  “Jax…” Rebel began to ask.

  He put up a hand, silencing her. After several seconds, ripples emerged along the surface of the circular pool. Wavelets upon wavelets came, merging together and growing.

  “What is that?” Rebel stepped back, knocking into Anjeline, who gripped her arm tight enough to bruise.

  “Rebel,” she whispered. “We should leave.”

  Jaxon stared at the water as the ripples increased, forming pockets of air bubbles. Instinct screamed at Rebel to depart, to retreat to the Freebooters, to be anywhere but here. But she couldn’t pry her eyes from the water, from the figures moving under the murky darkness. Like fish. Like dolphins. Large figures with fins and tails.

  And hair?

  All at once, the water parted and several waves rose up, then splashed down against the surface. Figures emerged, rising above like magnificent statues, slowly gathering shape and color as they did. Their forms so different it was hard to fathom. Hair the tint of seaweed. Ashen skin. Fingers connected with weblike film. Human from the navel up and fish from the navel down. As they rose out of the water, they lifted onto their tails with a serpent gracefulness, alluring and terrifying. The mythical inhabitants of the sea.

  “Mermaids,” Anjeline voiced.

  “How?” Rebel looked to Jaxon, not grasping what was happening or why he had never spoken of them before. “You knew…” She shook her head, wondering why he hadn’t believed her about Anjeline if he’d conversed with creatures like this.

  He didn’t look at her. “Some mermaids are virtuous, some are vengeful, but the Siren guarantees a hefty price,” he said, making little sense.

  The merfolk assembled along the slippery edge. A figure adorned in a headdress of seaweed approached. The Siren. Her tail sloshed against the water like an irritated cat, her scales of opalescent shimmered from the torchlight, and her hair streamed behind her into a tangled cloak.

  The Siren lifted her lips over her teeth and spread her webbed hands out before her. “Fox, you’ve brought a prize?” she hissed like the shushing of the river.

  Jaxon bowed. “Come to pay my debt and collect the reward.”

  Rebel’s eyes narrowed. “Your debt?”

  “What you’ve been searching for.” He gestured to Anjeline. “The Wishmaker.”

  The Siren’s tail coiled around and around, propelling her forward so quickly, she startled them. “Fox, your debt is now fulfilled. But for that, you gain only half of the recompense,” she said and gave a nod to a merman. The merman produced a hefty bag, overflowing with what looked to be precious metal coins, and handed it to Jaxon.

  “Promise you won’t hurt them,” he said to the Siren.

  Realization hit the pit of Rebel’s stomach.

  “Knew something was off about you.” Anjeline glared at him. “You’re Sidhe.”

  Rebel’s muscles froze in a rictus of pain. Dawning surfaced as she stared at Jaxon, as all the years of trust evaporated in a single moment. “You tricked me.”

  For a split second, Jaxon’s mask slipped with a rush of regret. His eyes flashed even more foxlike than ever before. “Sorry, love. This wasn’t the plan. If you had just accepted my offer, we could have been right as partners. We could have found a way around this, but I had no choice. The beasties need me… I’m their survival.”

  Her heart felt like a stone plummeting to the bottom of the river. He’d stabbed thugs in the back before, but this was the first time she stood on the other side of the blade. Tears formed in her eyes, nothing left but gloom and betrayal. All she could do was stare at him numbly. It seemed impossible he’d done this to her. She’d been so focused on the danger from beyond, she hadn’t seen the betrayal from within.

  “When I’ve made enough, I’ll come for you,” Jaxon said.

  If he could leave her like this, he wouldn’t be returning. He turned and didn’t look back at her or Anjeline as he left the tunnel. Didn’t look as the mermaids pulled a rope, or when a net flung out, surrounding them.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She was too stunned to scream.

  Rebel’s chest splintered as the knowledge pounded through her on the rhythm of her pulse. Betrayed. The pain blocked out the shouts of her name. She didn’t know what was happening until a net was hurtled above her, breaking the veil of treachery. The trawl spun down—a body slammed into her side—Anjeline trying to pull them out of its path.

  Too late. The meshwork entangled them.

  She felt magic flourish around her. A blistering power she knew. It vibrated from Anjeline like a smothered star. Sparks rose up around them, rushing through Anjeline’s fingertips and threading along her tongue. It swelled against the mesh, but in a split second—the magic flashed away.

  “It’s enchanted.” Anjeline gasped. “I can’t remove it.”

  Rebel’s mind finally caught up to her limbs, and she snatched her switchblade from her belt, flicked it open, and slashed at the net. It was as if she had punched cement. A shock rippled through the mesh into her core. The knife quivered from her hand, dropping farther into the pool of water below. “No!” She struck the net with her fist, and pain shot up her arm.

  A melody vibrated the air.

  Her body went limp. A mesmerizing song rose from the Siren’s crimson lips and she suddenly seemed to radiate desirability, shining from every pore of her glistening skin. Rebel couldn’t pull her gaze away. Never had she heard such wonder. Such loveliness. The seductive tune compelled her to do nothing else but obey it and halt her struggling.

  “Snap out of it.” Anjeline tugged her arm.

  The tiny bit of Rebel not enthralled by the Siren’s song would have smiled at Anjeline’s protectiveness. Dark, slippery figures encircled them, and the world around Rebel became all water and fishtails. Countless webbed fingers emerged under the net and jerked Rebel’s shoulder, seizing her satchel for the vase within. And the song ceased.

  The bag now dangled from the Siren’s wrist.

  Anjeline threw Rebel a horrified look, but she was already moving. Her mind cleared, and in a growl, she yanked at the net, trying to lunge at the Siren.

  But more figures split the waters.

  Rebel dropped back. Two towering creatures massed before them, rising from the pool with the upper half of a horse and tails of a fish. Hot puffs of air flared from t
heir nostrils, and the water horses snatched the net’s rope between their teeth and pulled. The meshwork shrank around Rebel and Anjeline as the beasts dragged them to a block of floating foam. Their legs went out from under them, and they landed on the float.

  “Bring them to the cages,” ordered the Siren.

  “Wait!” Rebel finally found her voice. “You can’t do this.”

  The Siren’s black eyes flickered over her, and Rebel felt as if she’d been hit by a strong wave. “Can’t I? You were offered at a price. You of all humans should know there are no friends among thieves.” She waved her tail and the water horses pulled them along.

  Rebel and Anjeline struggled, but the mesh tightened even more. Down the tunnel, they were dragged to a passageway where icicles dangled from the ceiling and more torches dashed the walls. The frigid air pricked every inch of Rebel’s skin. She shivered, cold, stiff, and sweaty all at once. A warm hand gripped hers. “Tell me you have another knife on you?” Anjeline whispered so close Rebel felt her muscles tense like an archer’s bow.

  All Rebel could do was shake her head.

  More tunnels branched off to the sides, slanting up or downward with the rushing waters. The Siren’s tail propelled herself at the head, while her mermen shadowed behind her, holding tridents. Rebel watched them conversing, wondering what they were discussing. The tide change? The way humans looked floating upside down in the river?

  What flavor she tasted like?

  Her stomach lurched. They were hauled through underpasses with enchanted bells dangling above the waters and eels slithering underneath, like some type of an alarm system. A beam of warmth came from this tunnel as it dead-ended into a circular cavity, where an older mermaid bearing a torch waited. Cages and animal pens filled the space, stacked on top of another within the tunnel wall niches. In the unoccupied cages, tiny bones and wings were scattered about, while human-sized cages hung from the ceiling.