He was finishing his drink when the door of their private dining room opened and a figure appeared in the doorway wearing a white lace veil over its face. Jack nearly snorted scotch through his nose at the sight of it, but the other men at the table went silent and stood in a respectful welcome, so he choked back the laugh that had almost erupted and followed suit.
The veiled figure—it must have been this Prophet the Society was always going on about—had another man with him, a dark-haired fellow who didn’t look any happier to be there than Jack himself felt. Behind them came two Guardsmen, one of whom was Hendricks.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” the Prophet said, directing them all to take their seats. “I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Julien Eltinge. Some of you might be aware that he’s been gracing the stage down at the Hippodrome for a few months now. He’s graciously agreed to help us with the parade by wearing the necklace until it arrives at the ball.”
Jack set the glass he was holding back onto the table, his interest piqued. He’d been considering the easiest way to get to the necklace, and this presented a possibility. Whatever the men from the Society thought of this Julien Eltinge, the man didn’t look all that impressive. In fact, he looked damn uncomfortable about the whole situation, which was just fine with Jack. Discomfort was something he could certainly exploit.
THE RETURN
1902—New York
Cela called again from her hiding place in the alleyway across from Evelyn’s building, hooting into the night like some sort of deranged owl to warn Jianyu about the boy who’d gone into the building looking like all kinds of trouble. But the building across the street was dark and quiet. There was still no sign of Jianyu.
Maybe the boy was simply going home. Maybe he wasn’t a danger after all. But Cela had been around long enough to know that her feeling about him was probably right. He was with a small group of other boys, a ragtag bunch that looked like they belonged on the streets of the Bowery—their brightly colored outfits and cocky strutting were out of place in the neighborhood where Evelyn lived.
Cela waited a moment longer and then made up her mind. She didn’t want to return to her uncle’s apartment with its cramped rooms and the family in it looking at her as though Abel’s death had been her fault. Just the thought of the way they traded glances when they didn’t think she was looking made her chest feel hollow, but it was nothing compared to the twisting vines of grief around her heart. If that boy was trouble, as she suspected, it might mean danger for Jianyu. She wasn’t going to let the people who killed Abe have even one more victory.
Resolute, she took a breath and started out from her hiding place, but she hadn’t even made it to the halo of the streetlight’s glow before she was grabbed from behind and pulled back into the shadows.
Cela tried to scream, but a broad hand was clamped over her mouth, just as tight and unyielding as the one that was wrapped around her waist.
“Shhhhh,” a voice hissed, close to her ear. “It’s me.”
If she hadn’t been supported by the strength of the arm that held her, Cela would have been on the ground. Her legs went liquid beneath her, because she recognized that voice. And it was impossible.
“I’m gonna let you go now, but keep quiet, okay?”
She nodded, tears pricking her eyes. A moment later, the hand came away from her mouth and she spun to find her brother, Abel, standing there behind her, alive and whole and every bit as real as he’d ever been. For the first time in days, it felt like she could actually breathe.
Her arms were around his neck in an instant, and she couldn’t stop the sob that welled up from inside of her.
“Shhhh,” he repeated, his strong hands patting her back. “I told you, you have to keep quiet.”
She pulled back and looked at him again, just to be sure he wasn’t some terrible trick her mind was playing on her. Her hands cupped his cheeks. “Abe. You’re dead.”
“Do I look dead?” he asked, giving her the same doubtful look he’d given her a hundred times before when she’d tried to follow him and his friends through the city, nothing but a tiny girl tagging after boys who didn’t want her.
“But how?” Her head was spinning and the vines around her heart were trading thorns for blooms. “They shot you.”
Abe gave her a look like she should have known better. “Nobody shot me, Rabbit.”
Her heart nearly broke to hear that stupid nickname on his lips again. “But I heard them,” she said, her voice cracking without her permission. “I heard the gunshot, and then your body hit the floor.”
“They tried awful hard, but I wasn’t the one who got himself killed,” he said, his expression going dark.
Abe isn’t dead. Which meant . . . for the last week, he hadn’t been dead. “Then where have you been?” she asked, realization hitting her. She’d been at her uncle’s for nearly a week, and he’d never once come for her. He’d left her to think the worst. He’d left her to deal with their family on her own. He’d left her. She smacked at his chest. “I thought you were dead. I’ve been crying myself to sleep every night over you.” She slapped his chest again. “And every morning I woke up not remembering for a second, and every morning I had to re-remember,” she said, her voice breaking. And then, because it hadn’t felt half as good as she’d wanted it to, she raised her hand to slap him again.
He caught her wrist gently. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come, but I didn’t want to lead the people who were after me to Desmond’s place,” he said, taking her by the hand. “I’ve been watching, though. Waiting for you to get far enough away for me to talk to.”
“What do you mean, the people after you?” she asked, hesitating. “They were after me. Because of Darrigan’s mother.” And the ring.
Abe shook his head. “They were from the railroad.”
“Why would the railroad come after you?” she asked.
“They were just trying to scare me off. A few of us guys have been talking with the Knights of Labor about unionizing the Pullman porters so they’d have to pay us a better wage and give us better shifts. That’s about the last thing the company wants, so they thought they could convince me to stop, but their convincing looked an awful lot like forcing.”
“So you shot them?” she asked, not understanding how the person in front of her could also be the brother she knew would never have hurt anyone intentionally.
“Things got heated, and they threatened you,” he told her, his voice as dark as the shadows around them. “Look, I have a safe place uptown to stay with some guys from the Freeman. It’ll be okay. We can talk about all the rest later.”
“Abe—”
“I promise I’ll tell you everything, but right now we have to go,” he said, starting to tug her back toward the alley.
She took three steps before she stopped and pulled her hand out of his. “But Jianyu is still in there.”
Abe nodded. “Which is why we need to go now, before he comes back.”
He reached for her again, but she held her hand out of reach. “You don’t understand. He’s a friend of mine, and—”