The 7th of London (7 page)

“This’s a lot t’handle.” Sev stood and stalked away from Midnight.

“I certainly won’t deny that, Mr. Seven,” Midnight agreed. “Of course, you’ll be well rewarded.”

“I have t’think about it.”

“I can appreciate that.” Midnight nodded. “Though we don’t have much time. The Christmas celebration will be your cover.”

“That makes sense,” Sev muttered. “They’ll have to hire more help.” Sev started to formulate plans, though he hadn’t yet agreed. “What’s so special about this journal?”

“Journal may be a bit of an understatement,” Midnight explained. “Do you know what a grimoire is, Mr. Seven?” Sev shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t think so. It’s a book where a wizard keeps his spells, let’s say.”

“Spells?” Sev asked incredulously. “Ye really believe all that mumbo jumbo, Mr. Midnight? Truly?”

“I’ve seen many things, Mr. Seven.” Midnight’s expression grew deadly serious. Sev felt goose flesh raise his skin at that look. “And I’m willing to take that chance.”

Wizards and magic now?
Sev thought. Then he considered all the other things he’d recently witnessed. If Midnight knew about secret plots, maybe he had some other answers as well. “How do ye know Kettlebent?” Sev asked the question and studied Midnight’s face. The villain’s eyes grew wide, but he said nothing. “Ye know him. I know ye do. How?”

“I might ask you the same thing, Mr. Seven. More surprises. How do I know him?” Midnight repeated the question. “Kettlebent is employed by someone I trust implicitly.”

“Really? Did y’know he’s in league with Fervis and a noble that mistreats Beauchamps’s girls?”

Midnight chuckled and shook his head. “That’s not possible. He hates Fervis, and the noble who mistreats Beauchamps’s girls is Fairgate. I know for a fact he has no connection to that man.”

Sev’s brow furrowed. “I saw him take Fairgate into the house an’ take a group o’ kids out.” Sev watched as something passed over Midnight’s face.

“It couldn’t have been Fairgate.”

“Ye’re so sure?”

“I am,” Midnight stated, confidently. Sev considered those words. “I don’t need you to believe me. I only need you to accept my money and steal the journal.”

Sev wasn’t used to such honesty, but he couldn’t agree outright. “I need t’think about it.”

“I don’t need to tell you that time is not an unlimited commodity.”

“No, sir,” Sev answered, pulling his hat on. “Ye don’t.”

“I’ll send Rat around the day after tomorrow.” Midnight opened the door to the parlor. Rat was already waiting to escort Sev out. “I’ll expect your answer then. Good evening, Mr. Seven.” The criminal turned on his heel and closed the door with a sharp snap.

Back on the street, Sev removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. He felt like he’d been caught in the current of a great river and had no control over the bizarre twists and turns it carried him around. Children were being snatched all over Blackside by a secret cabal of prominent adults and the mysterious Mr. Kettlebent, while a wizard supposedly controlled the queen, and the country’s most notorious villain was the only one who wanted to stop him.
This whole situation is bloody insane
, Sev thought.
And Fairgate
. Another piece that didn’t seem to fit the puzzle, if a puzzle even existed. Sev’s thoughts raced until a sound drifted out of the alley on the opposite side of the street, drawing the young man’s attention. He squinted but couldn’t discern anything in the shadows. The sound coalesced into a deep chuckle, and the dome of a ragged bowler hat emerged into the low light of predawn.

“Well, well, well. What ’ave we ’ere?” A familiar voice oozed dangerously from a mouth filled with crooked metal teeth. “If it in’t me ol’ mate, Seven.”

“McGinty,” Sev growled. “I’d like t’say it’s good t’see ye, but I’m no liar.” McGinty limped into the street. Sev was proud of that limp, having given it to the man four years earlier. Sev had also heard McGinty lost an arm that night, and judging by the traveling cloak covering the right side of his body, it was true. “Nasty limp, McGinty.” Sev smirked.

“Still a l’il smart-mouth, eh?” McGinty returned the smirk, but it looked awful on his ruined, lopsided face. “I’ve ’ad some work done. We’ll see if yer mouth is as smart when I slice it off yer face.” McGinty shrugged his cloak off, revealing an unwieldy metal appendage where the foreman’s arm used to be. In place of a hand, he had a large, rough blade. Sev’s shock painted his face. “Nuffin’ t’say?” McGinty cocked his mechanical arm back and rushed Sev. The big man swung his metal appendage. Sev ducked, avoiding the blade, then kicked out, knocking McGinty back, unbalanced. McGinty’s arm whipped in a circle and the blade detached, swinging in a wide arc on a chain. Sev barely avoided the weapon, the blade kicking up sparks on the cobbles of the road. Sev somersaulted backward to buy himself some time to free one of his own weapons. Before he could, McGinty’s chain-blade looped around Sev’s upper arms, preventing him from reaching his cutlass.

“Bloody hell,” Sev spat and tried to angle his weight to gain an advantage.

“Yer in fer it now, l’il bugger,” McGinty growled and heaved on the chain, reeling the blade and its prisoner in. Sev yelled, twisting in the air so his shoulder slammed into the big man’s jaw. Unfortunately, instead of harming McGinty, it only served to make Sev slightly dizzy. He bounced off the dirty foreman and landed hard on the cobbled street. McGinty wrenched his chain-blade free, rolling Sev’s limp body as the weapon released him.

Sev’s vision was blurry, but he saw the blade snap back to its socket. McGinty laughed as he raised the filthy blade, preparing to strike. At the edge of Sev’s vision, a shadow peeled away from its fellows and darted into the street. Dark limbs flashed with glinting silver and McGinty’s laugh stopped abruptly. The shadow danced around McGinty, two knives lashing out. McGinty gurgled in pain but couldn’t scream. A moment later, his severed mechanical arm clattered to the street in front of Sev. McGinty stared at his attacker, just before a polished, pointy-toed boot slammed against the foreman’s already bad knee. The big man yelped as he fell, and Sev looked up into the smirking face of Jack Midnight. The pretty criminal tossed his black lock off to the side, it having fallen across his face during his graceful attack.

“All right, Mr. Seven?” Midnight asked, barely winded, offering his gloved hand.

Sev accepted, nodding. “He dead?”

“Not yet,” Midnight purred.

“Are ye gonna kill ’im?” Sev swallowed hard.

“Hmm, no. No, I don’t think I will.” Midnight hooked his foot beneath McGinty and flipped him onto his back. “I think I shall send our friend Fervis a little message.” The slim villain straddled the unconscious thug and popped the buttons off the man’s shirt, exposing a vast expanse of muscled chest. Jack turned, knife in hand, and smiled his feline smile. “You’d better call it a night, Mr. Seven. I assure you, this isn’t something you’re likely to want to witness.”

Sev took Midnight’s advice and hurried off into the streets of Blackside, pulling his hat down over his ears, determined not to look back.

S
EV
spent the next two days sequestered in his attic room, trying to decide what to do about Midnight. In the meantime, he went through some newspapers left in the bins downstairs, discarded by patrons who’d stopped for fish and chips on their way to the museum. He combed the columns for information on Fairgate, the queen, anything that could confirm Midnight’s stories. Sev was sure what the papers didn’t say told the real tale, but he couldn’t figure it out. One thing he was sure of now, based on the pictures in the paper, no matter what Midnight claimed. It had been Fairgate with Kettlebent at Beauchamps’s that day—same blond hair, same dark pointed beard. Sev also spent a large chunk of those two days pondering the pieces of the lightning gun to similar effect. Ultimately he knew just as little as he had when he left Midnight’s home.

Night fell dark and cold, midnight of his final day of decision drawing ever nearer. Sev knew he had to show for his meet with Rat, but his mind wasn’t easy. For all he knew, Jack Midnight had organized that little scuffle to save Sev and convince him to join the villain’s crusade.

Sev sighed and shrugged into his jacket.
Nothing for it
, he thought as he threw his leg over the windowsill. Hanging half in his warm room and half in the cold night air, Sev suddenly realized he didn’t know
where
to meet Rat. Meeting the urchin at twelve bells was assumed, but neither Rat nor Jack had told Sev where to be at midnight. He slipped into the night and down the wall. Rat had first shown his face at Monty’s cart, so Sev headed east to Cheapside, although he had a stop to make on his way.

B
EAUCHAMPS
’
S
Introduction House pulsed with activity at this hour. Men lingered outside smoking and talking while others ducked inside. Too many eyes for Sev to just walk in the front door, so he circled around the adjacent street and crept in the rear yard. Thankfully it was too cold for anyone to be in the garden, and based on what Sev had seen inside, he calculated which window belonged to Annie’s room. He knew there were bars, as much to protect the girls as they prevented escape, but the windows still opened. They’d be able to talk. Sev thought about those bars, about the group of children a few weeks ago, and doubt about the madam’s motivations surfaced once more.

The bars offered easy handholds, and luckily every window was heavily curtained to protect the privacy of Beauchamps’s clients. He peeked in Annie’s window but saw nothing. Sev pressed his ear as close to the glass as he could get it through the bars, trying to listen for voices, to determine whether she was entertaining. He didn’t hear anything, so he tapped the glass lightly. No answer. No sound. He tapped a little harder. Still he received no response.
Damn
, he thought.
She must be in the parlor
. He couldn’t expect his luck to hold out forever. Sev sighed and stepped down, ready to descend, when the curtains were thrown open, and Annie’s concerned face appeared in the gap. She cupped her hands around her eyes, and her face broke into a shining smile. She threw open the sash.

“Seven, damn it! What’re ye doin’?” she gasped, reaching through the bars to hug her friend.

“I just had t’see ye.” Sev held the bars with one hand and embraced Annie with the other. “I’ve got a big decision t’make tonight, and I wanted t’stop by.”

“What decision?” Annie asked. “Does it have anything t’do with the attack?”

“Attack?”

“On McGinty,” she explained. “Fervis is furious, and he’s lookin’ fer ye. Y’gotta get off the streets.”

“Damn it, Midnight!” Sev cursed.

“Midnight?” Annie gasped. “What does he—?” But the words died in her mouth. “Oh. Oh my dear Lord.”

“What, Annie? What is it?”

“It makes sense now,” she whispered. “The message.”

“What message? Annie, ye’re killin’ me. What’s goin’ on?”

“On McGinty’s chest. Someone carved, ‘Beware’ and then just below, ‘12 + 7’.” She paused as her words sank in. “Ye’re gettin’ mixed up with Midnight? Did he do that?”

Sev nodded. “He saved my life the other night. He’s got a job only I can do, and it looks like I could use the time away from Blackside if Fervis is lookin’ for me.”

“He might’ve figured that too,” Annie added, shrewdly.

Sev smiled, pleased at his friend’s insight. “Aye, that he might’ve done. Still.”

“Ye’re gonna do it,” Annie guessed.

“Aye. It’ll give Fervis time t’cool off while I’m away, and Midnight’s promised me a fat reward.”

“Enough t’get out o’Blackside?” Annie asked eagerly.

“Not sure.” Sev shrugged. “But it’s worth a try.”

Annie took a deep breath. “Be careful, Seven. They’re a dangerous lot.”

“I’m not stupid, Dove,” Sev answered, smiling. Annie reached through the bars and hugged Sev again as tight as she could. “Don’t fuss now. I’ll send word if I can. Ye’ll let Waverly know?”

Annie’s gaze turned penetrating and maybe a little jealous. “If ye want,” she answered curtly. Her expression changed. “What’s ’e like? Jack Midnight.”

“Oh,” Sev answered, smirking. “The Prince of Blackside is a very attractive young man. Well-dressed, well–groomed, and very confident. You’d like ’im.”

Annie sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if ye’re the luckiest bastard in England or the unluckiest.”

“I wonder that myself, Dove.” Sev pecked a kiss on Annie’s forehead before he bid her farewell and dropped to the ground quickly on his way to meet Rat and begin his work for the Prince of Blackside.

Sev wasn’t completely surprised to see the dirty little urchin smoking a pipe across the street from Beauchamps’s garden.

“Hear anythin’ interestin’?” Sev asked the half-pint thug.

“Oh aye,” he growled, breathing out smoke. “Got an eyeful o’yer pretty little friend as well.” Rat waggled his eyebrows.

“Don’t even think about it. Ye don’t stand a chance.”

Rat shrugged. “Fair enough, but it sounds t’me like ye’ve made yer decision.”