PROLOGUE
“Halloo?”
A sudden gust of wind moaned in answer, its salt-sharp swirls tugging at the shoulder capes of the gentleman’s elegant overcoat. He took a tentative step into the narrow alleyway between the unlit warehouses, then drew in a shaky breath as his soft-as-butter Hessian boots sank deeper into the muck.
“I must be mad,” he muttered. But he couldn’t afford to ignore the summons, no matter that every bone in his body was howling that what it implied couldn’t be true.
“One, two . . .” Wincing at the squelch of every slow, sucking step, Hessian Boots felt his way along the grimy brick until he found the iron hasp of the fourth door. As promised, the massive padlock was unfastened, and the age-dark oak creaked open at his touch.
Fear slithered down his spine. It was dark as a crypt inside.
“Would that I could retreat,” he whispered.To carefree days of sun and laughter, of privilege and pleasure.But there was no going back. The only choice was stumble ahead and try to find a way—
A hand seized his arm, yanking him deeper into the gloom. The door thudded shut behind him.
“W-what the devil—”
“Shhhh!” hissed his captor, shaking him to silence. “Stay quiet, or you’ll get your throat cut.”
Hessian Boots felt panic rise in his gorge. “Butwhy?” he demanded. “What your note implied is . . .” A swallow. “Impossible.”
A laugh, low and mirthless, as a flint struck steel and a tiny flame sparked to life. Flexing his black-gloved fingers, his captor shifted the single candle and pulled a packet from inside his coat. “See for yourself. I’ve made copies of enough documents concerning Argentum to prove that what I said is true. Unlike you fancy, fork-tongued serpents, the numbers don’t lie.”
In the flickering light, the oilskin seemed to dip and sway through the shadows, like a cobra about to strike.
Argentum.Ye gods, so it wasn’t a bluff. The man knew.
“How did you discover all this?” demanded Hessian Boots, keeping his hands fisted at his sides. He had been told that the venture was a closely guarded secret, known only to a privileged few.
“Never mind. What matters is that you need to stop it.”
“But . . .”A ruse—this was a filthy ruse to destroy all the imagination and hard work that had gone into the venture. Argentum would create a whole new world of opportunities for the future, so of course, there were those who would try to stop it.
By whatever means it took.
“But I can’t stop it,” lied Hessian Boots. “It’s too late for that.”
“You had better pray you’re wrong,” said Black Gloves.
Despite the damp chill swirling up from the river, sweat was dripping from his brow, the salt stinging his eyes. “W-what do you—”
A fierce bark suddenly shattered the nighttime stillness, its echo reverberating against the close-set buildings.
“You hear that? The night watchmen and their hellhounds are starting to make their round.” Black Gloves pressed in closer. “We can’t afford to linger.”
Hessian Boots felt the packet being thrust into his coat pocket.
“Good versus Evil . . . Read the documents and then you must decide which side you’re on. Trust me, your life will likely depend on your choice.”
The flame sputtered and went out, shrouding them in a darkness blacker than Satan’s maw.
His thoughts were spinning helter-pelter, so it took him an instant to react. “What do you mean? Who are you?” he demanded.
But a dullthunkand a flutter of chill air was the only answer.
After a heartbeat of hesitation, Hessian Boots edged his way to the door and found the iron latch. Pressing his forehead to the dank wood, he gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering.
Damnation—surely this must be some devil-cursed nightmare.He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to wake. But the prickling splinters against his skin and the foul-smelling mud seeping through his boots were all too real.
