“My point is, Hadleigh forgave me my ruse because he understood me. And I forgave him his boorishness because I know him. That is the power of love.”
“I hope you are right.”
After tonight’s excursion, Charlie would search Jack out. Apologize. Then she would do what she ought to have done in the first place: listen and try to understand.
Half past midnight, Charlie and her team landed on the grounds of the manufactory.
Charlie had scouted the front entrance; seeing only a pair of sleepy-looking guards posted at the gate and no patrolmen, she’d revised the strategy. Instead of creating a diversion, Devlin and Hadleigh accompanied her and Livy, the four of them scaling the back wall. Now they were on the grounds, the buildings looming beasts in the darkness, drifts of fog heightening the eerie scene.
“It is too quiet,” Devlin murmured. “Where are all the guards?”
Charlie did not like it either. “Stay alert, everyone. We stick to the plan. Devlin and Hadleigh will cover Livy and I whilst we get into the building.”
Both men nodded, their weapons drawn.
She led the way to the building, Livy following close behind. They stuck to the shadows and blended into the night. As they neared their destination, the moon shone through the fog, plating the front door in bright silver.
“It’s too exposed,” Charlie whispered. “We’ll go around the back.”
Livy nodded, and they moved stealthily to the rear of the building. Again, there were no guards. Using her lock picks, Charlie gained access. She pushed the door open, freezing at the slight squeal of hinges. When no patrol rushed over, she and Livy slipped inside. The gloom of the cavernous space was broken by ribbons of moonlight slipping through the shutters.
Charlie lit the candle she’d brought with her. Holding it up, she circled the room in case she was missing something. There were only a few scattered tables, their surfaces bare.
“There’s nothing here,” Livy said, her voice hushed.
At the soft scrape of footsteps, Charlie whirled around, yanking out her pistol. Livy’s blades flashed in her hands as she, too, faced the newcomers. But it was Devlin and Hadleigh…and a woman Charlie recognized immediately.
What is Maria Delaney doing here?
“It’s Granger,” the spy said grimly. “He’s been taken.”
She handed Charlie a note, and Charlie’s heart lodged in her throat.
Stop meddling in our affairs, or Granger dies.
Thirty-Seven
Charlie convened an emergency meeting at eight o’clock that morning.
Her worry for Jack had made it impossible to sleep during the few hours since her return home. A part of her had wanted to rally the forces and comb London in search of him. But Maria had told her not to waste her energy.
“We don’t know where to look,”the spy had said. “Turning London inside out will accomplish nothing, except maybe endanger Granger’s life. For now, he is the First Flame’s bargaining chip, which means he’s safe as long as the bastards believe we are backing off. To find him, we need to findthem, and we need to be stealthy about it. Which means we need a plan.”
Realizing that Maria was right, Charlie had put a lid on her panic. She’d summoned the Angels and their husbands whilst the other had gotten the word out to her team. Laurent and Calderone had arrived early and were making inroads into the breakfast offerings on the sideboard. Primus had yet to show, and Maria was not confident that he would. She characterized her leader as ruthless and expedient, to the extent that Jack’s abduction might not be sufficient for him to compromise his cover.
Whilst Maria and her colleagues were there for Jack, they also remained mum on Primus’s identity. The spies might be hardened by life, but they were loyal. Charlie found herself warming to them, Maria especially. Without the distorting veil of jealousy, she could admire the woman’s pluck and no-nonsense attitude.
Charlie tapped a glass, drawing everyone’s attention to start the meeting.
The door swung open, and Livy and Hadleigh hurried in.
“Apologies for our late arrival,” Livy said breathlessly. “We have news!”
Hope pounded in Charlie’s heart. “Tell us.”
“I heard from Uncle Harry this morning,” Livy said excitedly. “He’s identified the solution as a combination of white phosphorus and carbon disulfide. He said both substances are volatile on their own. Combined as they are, all it takes is exposure to air and…”
She moved her hands outward, her breath whooshing out in an explosive sound.
