“I wasn’t intending to.”
In his periphery, Kane saw Jules frown. “You weren’t?”
“Of course not. I’ve always known that was her plan.Yourplan.” Saying it aloud made emptiness swell within him again, but he soldiered on. “I’d never try to stop either of you from leaving. There’s no real life to be had in Devil’s Acre. I know that as well as anyone.”
Jules didn’t respond, presumably trying to discern whether Kane was telling the truth.
“I know you think I’m selfish. That I’m a terrible excuse for a man. And for the most part, you’re right. I wish Zaria didn’t care for me at all, because that would make it easier to let her go. Sheshouldn’tcare for me. She deserves better. She deserves someone who’s good-hearted, and kind, and never puts her in danger. She deserves someone whole. Someone who isn’t coming apart at the seams. Someone who hasn’t grown accustomed to the blood on his hands.” Finally, Kane shot Jules a sidelong glance. “So I’m going to make it easy.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Another beat passed before Jules nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“But,” Kane said, softer now, “if you change your mind for any reason, and if we make it through this… I could use someone like you, Zhao. Not as a member of the crew,” he added quickly at Jules’s furrowed brow, “but as an expert of sorts. You spent years working at that pawnshop,andyou have knowledge of alchemology. That’s an invaluable combination when it comes to the dark market. Assessing the worth of things, I mean. You wouldn’t have to answer to me—I would ask only for your input.”
Jules didn’t respond right away. He looked a bit flummoxed as he chewed that over, eventually saying, “Thanks. I don’t foresee that happening, though. I’ve held Zaria back from leaving for long enough.”
“Because of your father,” Kane surmised, his stomach seeming to hollow.
The other boy dipped his head again.
Kane wondered if Zaria would change her mind, should she really manage to track down her mother. He didn’t think so. No apology or explanation could make up for abandoning your child, could it? He wouldn’t know. Neither of his parents would ever be able to explain the choices they had made. “Well, the offer stands.”
“Thanks,” Jules said simply, and Kane thought he might have meant it.
They reached the end of the alley and emerged onto NewgateStreet, the main road that would take them by the notorious Newgate Prison. There was no reason to be apprehensive about that fact, but a chill climbed Kane’s spine and took up residence at the back of his neck.
The sensation was explained a moment later, however, when a group of men appeared at the corner, led by none other than Inspector Richard Price.
“Price,” Kane said loudly, scowling at the man through the rain. He refused to glance at the entourage of armed officers with their smart navy coats and brass buttons. “What the hell is this?”
Price was the only one who didn’t have a weapon out, though Kane knew better than to think him unarmed. “You know exactly what it is, Durante. Time’s up.”
“That’s ridiculous. You gave me until tomorrow.”
With a flourish, Price procured a small pocket watch and let it dangle from his fingertips. “I gave you until Friday. And unless I’m mistaken, it’s just after midnight.”
Fletcher took an automatic step forward. Kane was frozen, horror racing through his veins. He was such afool. He hadn’t even considered that Price might come for them at the very moment his deadline was upon them.
“I’m close,” Kane said, fighting to keep his voice calm. “I’m so close, Inspector.”
Price shrugged. It might have seemed apologetic, but there was an eagerness about his stance. “I would have been happy to work together, Durante. I really would have. But you can’t even begin to understand how many important people are breathing down my neck when it comes to this Curator business. So, although it pains me”—he turned to nod at the men behind him—“all three of you are under arrest.”
Faced with no other option, Kane slowly raised his hands.
ZARIA
Zaria came to with a start, squinting at her unfamiliar surroundings.
At first she thought she was back at the manor. She was on a sofa in what looked like a rich person’s drawing room; everything was arranged for show more than comfort, with a pianoforte propped in front of a window overlooking a grassy stretch of property. But the wooden floor and accents were brighter than the manor’s deep mahogany theme, and it was obvious that they were nowhere near London’s most urban areas. Based on the light outside, it looked to be about midday, although Zaria wasn’t certain.
She shot up to sit, only to curl in on herself as her head spun with vertigo. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to bolt as the events at Mansion House came flooding back, but she knew she was in no condition to walk, let alone run.
Fletcher, she remembered suddenly. He would be okay—he waslarge enough that the aleuite would’ve worn off quickly and left few side effects. How long ago was it that she’d watched unconsciousness drag him to the ground? How long hadshebeen unconscious, and why had it lasted so long?
Someone at the edge of the room cleared their throat. Zaria whirled, narrowing her gaze in an attempt to focus her vision, which continued to swim. Still, she recognized him at once.
