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Authors: Beau Schemery
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‘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.”
“I have.”
“Grand, let’s get y’back t’meet with His Nibs at the church.” Rat turned and stalked away. Sev followed, wondering if the little urchin would ever call Midnight “His Nibs” to his face. Rat spat in the street, and it occurred to Sev the little blighter just might.
T HE pair bounded up the steps to the ebony entrance of Midnight’s church. Rat pulled out a massive key ring, shuffling through the metal implements until he singled an elaborately cast key that resembled the number twelve in filigree. The urchin turned the key in the lock, and a strange chiming of bells sounded within the building. Rat stood patiently.
“Is it unlocked?” Sev asked.
“Never,” Rat answered. “It wouldn’t be real smart fer folks t’be runnin’ around wif keys to His Nibs’s front door. That’s just the doorbells.” Rat continued to stand facing the doors. Sev waited as well, his eyes wandering to inspect the intricate architecture. His gaze snapped back when the sound of locks grinding open drew his attention. The door swung slightly inward. “That’s you, mate,” Rat stated, motioning toward the door.
“Ye’re not takin’ me in?” Sev asked. Rat shook his head and meandered off into the night. The urchin disappeared, and Sev pushed into the building.
Midnight was nowhere to be seen. Sev pulled the ebony door closed, and the numerous locks ground shut, securing the door automatically. Sev hadn’t noticed that the first time he visited. The foyer doors opened on their own. Sev guessed these measures must have been the inventor Carrington’s designs. The young man stepped cautiously into the main hall. Midnight stood with a pool cue next to a finely crafted billiard table. The villain motioned Sev over.
“Midnight,” Sev greeted his host, tipping his hat.
“Mr. Seven.” Jack smirked, the gas lights
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.”
“I have.”
“Grand, let’s get y’back t’meet with His Nibs at the church.” Rat turned and stalked away. Sev followed, wondering if the little urchin would ever call Midnight “His Nibs” to his face. Rat spat in the street, and it occurred to Sev the little blighter just might.
T HE pair bounded up the steps to the ebony entrance of Midnight’s church. Rat pulled out a massive key ring, shuffling through the metal implements until he singled an elaborately cast key that resembled the number twelve in filigree. The urchin turned the key in the lock, and a strange chiming of bells sounded within the building. Rat stood patiently.
“Is it unlocked?” Sev asked.
“Never,” Rat answered. “It wouldn’t be real smart fer folks t’be runnin’ around wif keys to His Nibs’s front door. That’s just the doorbells.” Rat continued to stand facing the doors. Sev waited as well, his eyes wandering to inspect the intricate architecture. His gaze snapped back when the sound of locks grinding open drew his attention. The door swung slightly inward. “That’s you, mate,” Rat stated, motioning toward the door.
“Ye’re not takin’ me in?” Sev asked. Rat shook his head and meandered off into the night. The urchin disappeared, and Sev pushed into the building.
Midnight was nowhere to be seen. Sev pulled the ebony door closed, and the numerous locks ground shut, securing the door automatically. Sev hadn’t noticed that the first time he visited. The foyer doors opened on their own. Sev guessed these measures must have been the inventor Carrington’s designs. The young man stepped cautiously into the main hall. Midnight stood with a pool cue next to a finely crafted billiard table. The villain motioned Sev over.
“Midnight,” Sev greeted his host, tipping his hat.
“Mr. Seven.” Jack smirked, the gas lights
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