Read Online The 7th of London by Beau Schemery - Free Book Online Page B

making his skin radiant. “I’m glad you’ve decided to assist me.”
    “How d’ye know I have?”
    “You’re here, Mr. Seven.”
    “Aye. That I am, Mr. Midnight.”
    “Please, call me Jack.” The dark-suited man arranged the balls on the table, two white and a red. “We’re going to be working closely this next week.” Midnight offered Sev a cue stick.
    “All right, Jack,” Sev agreed, accepting the cue. He took aim at one of the cue balls, stabbed the stick forward, and ricocheted the ball back toward the opposite bumper, just as Midnight did the same from the other side of the table. The balls sailed across the surface almost simultaneously, but Sev’s came to rest just a little closer to the baulk bumper than Midnight’s. The villain’s face flushed momentarily with anger, and Sev tightened his grip on the cue stick, preparing for an assault. The emotion passed as quickly as it had surfaced, and an easy grin spread across Midnight’s thin, expressive lips.
    He barked a laugh and laid his hand on Sev’s shoulder. “You’re full of surprises, my young friend. I’ve rarely met a man who was willing to play billiards, let alone one with the stones to actually try to beat me.” Midnight laid his cue on the brushed wool of the table. “This is going to be an entertaining partnership indeed. Come.” Jack motioned, strolling to a door opposite the parlor Sev had visited last time. Sev laid his stick next to Jack’s and followed. Midnight led his guest up a short flight of stairs. Dark wood paneling and rich tapestries lined the stairs and hallway. “I keep guest quarters in this wing of the building. I’m sure you’ll find them quite comfortable.”
    “I… um… I didn’t realize,” Sev stammered, “that I’d be stayin’ here.”
    “We have a great deal of work ahead of us if you’re to be ready in time.” Midnight leaned against the wall. “You’ll need to work each day. It will be much easier if you’re here. And let’s not forget Fervis’s current vendetta.”
    “Oh aye. That makes sense, sure.”
    “Is there a problem, Seven? We can’t afford complications.”
    “No, sir. There’s no complications. It’s just, well, Henry.”
    A lascivious smile stretched Midnight’s lips. “Ah, I see. Henry, is it? A good friend of yours, is he?” Jack elbowed Sev, knowingly.
    “Aye. And if I’m stayin’ here, who’ll feed ’im?”
    Jack’s eyes snapped wide. “Wait, what?”
    “Henry. He’s back in my room. If I’m stayin’ here, what’ll happen to him? I mean, there’s the mice, sure, but they won’t last forever.”
    “What the bloody hell are you on about, Seven?” Jack asked, shocked.
    “My owl, Henry,” Sev explained. “Hank, I call ’im sometimes. What’s goin’ t’happen t’him ’til I’m done here?”
    Jack laughed, relieved. “Good lord, Seven. You gave me a fright. I thought you were even more depraved than me.” Jack straightened. “I can send Rat around to collect your owl.”
    Sev hesitated. He rubbed his neck, reluctant to reveal the whereabouts of his only safe hideout. “I’d rather not, um, reveal the location o’my place.”
    Jack raised a thin brow. “I understand your hesitation, Seven. But I’ve allowed you into my home, and I give you my word that Rat is completely trustworthy, or he’d be dead already.” Jack’s voice grew quiet and dangerous as he finished his declaration. “You don’t even have to tell me,” Jack stated, his tone returning to normal. “Satisfied?”
    “I…,” Sev began and stopped, feeling slightly rude. “I’m sorry, Jack. O’course if anybody can keep a secret, it’s you.” Jack shrugged in answer. Sev continued, “I have a place in the attic above the British Museum. He’ll need a grapple t’get up t’me window.”
    Jack patted Sev on the shoulder. “There’s a lad. I’ll let Rat know. Henry’ll be here by the time you awake.” Jack tipped Sev a little salute. “Make yourself at home.