Sheer black curtains hung in all windows within sight, which made the light seep in more sparsely, but there was enough of it to reveal heavy, expensive furniture, and a lot of crystal glass in a variety of colors. Fabric framed grand paintings, as if there was ever a need to hide them from view, but as Cole faced the exit at the end of the hallway, what disturbed him more was a low howl coming from one of the nearby rooms.
Ned’s eyes grew bigger, and Cole could practically see his body hair bristling when the moan was joined by a rhythmical creak of some poor piece of furniture.
“You hear that? No ghosts. Just people fucking,” Cole whispered, rose, and ran to the door. For all this reassuring, he didn’t feel comfortable in this setting either and barely held back a shriek when something dark passed right in front of him.
But it was just a black cat.
One glance at a long set of hangers close to the entrance told him the owner held large gatherings of some kind, but only three coats were there at present, one of them an emerald green, with bits of golden thread and two brooches on the lapels. He ignored the elaborate woman’s cloak and took the other two, which were conservative enough to hide their identity, as long as no one looked at their faces for long enough. The matching men’s hats would help.
Ned accepted his disguise without question, and they dressed while the clock ticked in Cole’s mind, telling him that their window of opportunity was closing. Jan had warned Cole that the parade could only stall for so long, so if they missed their mark, they’d be on their own in a city wild with its search for the Wolfman.
The garments were small on both of them, especially since Ned put the coat on over his jacket, but that was the least of Cole’s problems when all of his focus was on a goal so simple and yet so difficult as crossing the street unseen.
The door to the outside world creaked without mercy, but the street greeted them with police whistles, as some kind of brawl had erupted over the dolls, and a woman lost her hat in the process. The yelling drew lots of attention, so despite the unpleasantly fast drumming in his chest, Cole walked outside, acting as if he were in no rush.
But inside him raged a storm that turned his veins into river rapids, and if Ned hadn’t held him by the arm, he’d have walked straight in front of a carriage.
He tipped his hat in apology before the driver could have roared in anger, but they sped up as soon as he passed, heading straight at the rusty iron gate locked with a heavy chain and padlock.
Weeds and bushes had grown over the path that a long time ago had surely run from the street, all the way to the house, but beyond the shock of tangled wood, leaves, and vines, the grand villa towered over the neighborhood like a rich old aunt who never said a thing yet disapproved of everyone in her family.
With a porch at the front, and a grand balcony above it, it had an oddly flat roof and tall, elaborately–shaped windows, as if rectangular ones weren’t fancy enough for a place so impressive. Yet now, despite past splendor, the mansion stood empty. And that made it their salvation.
Cole took a deep breath and faced Ned as they reached the gate. They might still be noticed, but the faster they scaled the fence, the sooner their presence would be forgotten. “You first,” he said and sank lower, making a little shelf by entangling all ten of his fingers.
He held his breath, waiting for Ned to argue in some misguided attempt at courtesy, but Ned didn’t waste time and climbed Cole’s hands, then pulled himself up the spikes of the fence.
“What are you two doing?” yelled someone from afar, and Cole’s heart stopped beating altogether.
“Come on,” Ned urged from the top of the fence, and Cole leaped up to grab his hand. The world around them slowed down, but the shriek of the police whistle jabbed at Cole’s back like a razor taking off a strip of skin.
All he could see was Ned’s face. And all he could feel was the ache in his muscles as he fought against gravity and climbed the fence with Ned’s help. One of the spikes dug into his thigh through the thick pants, but he ignored the discomfort it caused and jumped off the rusty perch, straight into a bush that broke his fall.
“It’s them!” A policeman yelled. “Marshall. Craig, It’s them!”
Chapter 28
Thorns and branches prodded and pulled at Cole’s clothing as he dropped the stolen coat and ran toward the imposing building, pushing away dense greenery while the noise in the street grew, turning into a chaotic buzz he no longer acknowledged. Speed was now the key to their survival, but as he forced his way through the garden that hadn’t seen any upkeep in at least a dozen years, it occurred to him that their plan had become worthless. It didn’t account for the possibility of them being spotted by the lawmen, and now that Craig and his men knew where to look, running into the building would equal suicide.
Out in the streets, they still had the chance to evade the manhunt, but how were they to remain hidden inside a house, even one as grand as this one, if enough men were on the lookout?
The thump of Ned’s feet behind him was yet more fuel to Cole’s fears.
He hadn’t broken him out of jail for it to end like this—with both of them in chains and all hope lost—but just as he made up his mind and shifted direction to run along the facade in an attempt to escape through the fence at the back, a gun went off in the bushes behind the mansion, and he ducked to hide in the tall grass.
“Shit! Shit! They have us surrounded,” he whispered, breathing in the mild scent of plants while his palms adjusted to the pressure of broken stalks and pebbles.
The loud drumming that accompanied all parades had become painfully loud, reminding Cole of the passing time, but how was he to reach Jan or any of their friends when armed men stood in his way?
“Let’s get inside,” Ned whispered and crawled toward the house.
Which was madness. How could salvation await them in there now? With every single entryway boarded up to keep out intruders, they couldn’t even use windows to lose the chase by running through the house and emerging someplace else. But as a bullet hit dirt only inches away from Cole’s hand, he rolled behind a massive tree growing by the side of the building. He couldn’t come up with any alternative plans other than trying to force their way through and dying in the process. So he followed Ned’s lead and kept his head low to hide their exact location, because for all he knew, Craig might have crossed the fence already and was watching them like a mountain lion creeping up on its prey.
Ned didn’t have such qualms.
He rose and grabbed a piece of dry wood nailed to the frame of the nearest window. The unruly garden offered a degree of cover, but anyone could have spotted him at the right angle, and Cole touched both his revolvers, ready to protect Ned, with his own body if necessary.
Ned grunted when he pulled at the wood, biting his lips, but the effort that finally tore the plank off came at the cost of his roar. The momentum sent him falling to his ass, and when a bit of plaster was shot off by another bullet, Cole fired back. Had Ned stayed up, the lead would have gone into his flesh.
He didn’t need to see his opponent to know where the projectile had come from and sensed a pleasant heat at the base of his spine when someone yelped in pain, out of sight.
“I see them!” A man yelled from afar, but didn’t dare show his face when Cole shot toward his voice, safely tucked between the wall and the tree.