What a bunch of assholes.
Resisting the urge to pull out my backup grenade and shove it down his throat, I redirect the conversation to the matter at hand.
“I need access to your railroad. The underground system, in particular, but a spare minecart would come in handy.”
A bushy brow lifts, amusement dancing across Doc’s face, “And why would we be inclined to accept such a gracious offer?”
“Because I have something you don’t.” I pause, letting the silence expand between us, “Access to White Castle.”
Gerald sucks in a breath, and somewhere in the cottage a pan clatters to the floor. Doc studies me silently, his eyes suspiciously narrow behind his glasses.
“What business do you have with the White family?”
“I’m going to steal back the Hoffmann Diamond.”
“Are you out of your mind?!”
Grumpy Gerald is at it again, shouting until his bulbous nose matches the flush racing across his cheeks, “Nobody has seen the Hoffmann Diamond in years, not since it was stolen from our sister-
“After the witch killed her. Yes, I am aware.”
I tilt my head, meeting Doc’s inquisitive stare, “Rumour has it, the diamond is being kept in a glass coffin, one that holds the decaying remains of Evelyn’s mother. It is said to be littered with more gemstones than you can possibly imagine, and with your help, I’m going to steal it.”
Silence falls upon the room.
Gerald is staring at me with comically wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Doc continues to assess me, his gaze dancing across the different tattoos peeking out of the torn cloth of my shirt.
“The devil who got lost in the witch’s cavern.” His eyes linger on the grim reaper screaming across my ribcage, “There is no mercy for those who drink her poison.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t plan on drinking, then.”
“You may not get that choice. Especially if Evelyn White has anything to say about it.”
A scuffle of feet draws my attention to the banister overhead. Big brown eyes peer down at me, Dorian’s purple beanie almost falling off his head.
Even from here, I can see the tattered state of his clothes. The hole-ridden soles of his sneakers that have been passed down one too many times.
Even for the unfortunate, there are always those who suffer more. The lowest rung on the ladder, the last pig to collect his meal at the feeding trough. The castaways already struggling to stay on the island rarely get a chance to take their share, however small.
Dorian may be the tallest one of his family, but he certainly isn’t getting much food from the table.
“Leave the witch to me.”
Forcing my eyes off the misfit who deserves a better home, I look back at the man holding my fate in his hands.
“Uninterrupted access for the next five months and the Hoffmann Diamond is yours again. I’ll need copies of the underground railway system in its entirety, including any manholes and halfway points that offer quick and safe passages, as well as an updated work schedule so I know when and where your men will be at all times.”
“The location of our mine is a Hoffmann secret that has been passed down for generations.” Gerald the Grump sneers at me, “What makes you think we’ll just hand it over to you?”
“I don’t.” Slipping a hand inside my pocket, I carefully tear the stitches holding the velvet bag in place, “Which is why I’m offering a deposit. As a token of my goodwill.”
London’s most recently stolen diamonds tumble into the palm of my hand. It’s only a mittful of the hundreds we stole back home, but it’s enough to put a sparkle in the Gem Doctor’s eye.
“Doc, that would be enough to feed us for the year-
“Hush, Gerald.” Fiddling with his reading glasses, the eldest brother takes a step closer, “Go fetch me a glass of water.”
“What the hell do you need-
