At last, after all the terror of the last few days, Charlie felt peace embrace him. They would be safe in the care of The Zagreus Den. Jonathan did not have to like it at first, but Charlie was certain he would appreciate it in time. And he would find something in the Den that Charlie suspected he had been missing from his life for some time. He would find like-minded friends who would appreciate him for who he was.
They continued with their tea as if sitting in a palace somewhere without a care in the world. Brutus and Titus told them more about their pasts and how they had built The Zagreus Den from a loose affiliation of street gangs they had all been part of into an institution with multiple houses across London and all of England. They spoke a bit about their charitable endeavors, the school for boys that Valentine had mentioned to Charlie, and about their continuing efforts to rescue young people from the workhouses.
Charlie found it all incredible and, after an hour of listening, was summoning the courage to ask questions when one of the Den’s attendants rushed into the room.
“Master Brutus, Master Titus,” the man said, bowing his head respectfully once he was inside the parlor.
“What is it, Fineas?” Titus asked with concern for the young man’s agitation.
Fineas lifted his head and looked first at Jonathan before turning to Titus. “If you please, Master, a fire has just been reported.” He glanced at Jonathan once more.
Charlie’s chest and stomach squeezed and he grasped Jonathan’s thigh, turning to him with wide eyes. He did not need Fineas to go on to know what had happened.
Jonathan stiffened, a look of grief and hopelessness, but not surprise, filling his eyes.
“Go on,” Brutus told Fineas.
Fineas nodded, clasped his hands behind his back like a soldier making a report to his superior, and said, “The photography studio is on fire. The police have been told that the chemicals housed inside ignited, but several men were seen throwing torches through the windows.”
Jonathan’s shoulders sagged. “I knew they would come.”
Charlie felt sick, but also incredibly proud of his master. “You knew they would come,” he said with a weak smile. “You knew, so you developed the photographs at once and took us away from there.”
“He’s right,” Brutus said. “You were clever to act at once, without delay.”
“Is there any indication that Hammond knew Jonathan and Charlie had returned to the shop to develop the photographs or does he think they have yet to return?” Titus asked.
“I do not know,” Fineas said. “I can endeavor to find out.”
“Please do,” Titus said. He nodded to Fineas, who turned to go, then glanced at Jonathan. “It seems our offer to give you shelter here at the Den might be needed more than any of us could have anticipated.”
“In which case, I will accept it gratefully,” Jonathan said, sounding more exhausted than grateful.
Charlie squeezed his master’s thigh, hoping his confidence that they were in the right place would give him hope. There were so many things they could do nothing about, but at least they had landed safely among people who would help them.
“I supposeyou are happy about this,” Jonathan said later, once they’d been shown to the small suite of rooms deep within the warren of the connected buildings that made up the premises of the Den.
Charlie had already started unpacking the few bits of clothing they’d managed to bring with them. He couldn’t help but smile contentedly at Jonathan as he worked.
Jonathan huffed a laugh and sank into a large, comfortable-looking chair that sat near a window that looked out onto a courtyard garden. “I suppose I should be happy that at least one of us is content.”
Charlie glanced at Jonathan over his shoulder, almost but not quite rolling his eyes at him, put the folded shirt he held on a shelf in the wardrobe, then abandoned his unpacking to cross the room and kneel between Jonathan’s legs.
“You will be happy here,” he said, resting his hands on Jonathan’s legs.
Jonathan arched one eyebrow. “And you are certain about this?”
Charlie grinned and nodded. “You will have many young men to photograph.”
Jonathan laughed out loud at that. He leaned forward, cupping the side of Charlie’s face and kissing his lips lightly. “You never cease to amaze me with your impishness,” he said, then kissed him again, longer and sweeter.
“I am right, though,” Charlie said breathlessly, once their kiss faded. “I can feel it. You will have a purpose here. You will help and be happy, but you will not have to change yourself in any way.”
Jonathan’s eyebrows lifted as he considered that. “I suppose you are right,” he said. His smile warmed. “Then again, you have always been right thus far.”
Charlie could only smile in reply.
Jonathan leaned in and kissed him again with even more passion than before.
