The Serpent's Curse by Lisa Maxwell (read an ebook week .TXT) 📕

“It’s beginning,” James agreed. He looked back to see the sun descending right down the center of Twenty-Third Street. The fiery haze of the shimmering orb was framed perfectly by the buildings as it sank toward the river. It was an odd sight, and it might have even been beautiful if James had the time to appreciate beauty. As it was, they were racing the sun, and every minute was one fewer they had to stop the Order from securing the artifact. Because if the Order’s delivery arrived before they did…

Block after block, the cart rattled over trolley tracks and uneven cobbles until finally the street emptied into the wide area in front of the wedge-shaped tower, but when they finally arrived, something was already happening. Police wagons stood in the plow-shaped plaza in front of the building. They were surrounding another plain wagon, and some of the dark-suited officers were trading fire with someone in the building on the other side of Fifth Avenue, while others were already tussling with men on the ground.

“Those are Five Pointers,” Viola told him. “My brother’s men.”

“I’m aware,” James said, satisfied with the way the Aether swirled around him. “It looks like Johnny the Fox hasn’t turned into a rat. He’s kept his promises.”

“You knew the wagon would be here?” Viola asked, confusion swimming in her violet eyes.

“You’ve played three-card monte, haven’t you, Viola?” Nibsy asked, faintly amused by her shock. “The shuffling of the cards is never anything more than a distraction. The money card is always already in the dealer’s hand. The second we knew about the extra ships, I knew the goods wouldn’t be on them.”

“But if you knew there was nothing in the other wagons…” Viola frowned, finally piecing things together.

Too late, James thought. Always too late.

“Do you mean that Cela’s brother and the rest, they are risking themselves for nothing?”

Nibsy shrugged, unbothered by her sudden worry. “They’re doing what they’re supposed to be doing—providing a necessary diversion so the Order doesn’t realize we’ve caught on to their little game.”

“And what of the Devil’s Own?” she asked, clearly bristling. “Have you risked their lives as well?”

Nibsy turned to her then. He made sure that his gaze was unyielding. “The Devil’s Own belong to me now, Viola. They do what I say.”

“And if they’re caught by the police, what then?” Viola pressed. “If they’re killed?”

“Life and death.” Nibsy tilted his head, trying to conceal his amusement as he considered her dismay. “Isn’t that what our dear friend Dolph used to say? Life and death. Two sides of the same coin. It’s what they all signed up for when they took his mark.” Then he allowed his mouth to curve as Viola blanched, the color draining magnificently from her face. “I never expected you, of all people, to be so squeamish about something so banal as a few deaths. People die every day in the Bowery. You know that. You’ve taken more than a few of those lives yourself.”

One of the Five Pointers broke through the ranks of police suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention. The man charged toward the back of the plain, waiting wagon, but the instant he grabbed hold of the rear door, strange markings on the wagon were illuminated, as though by electricity, and the man began to scream. The Aether trembled as the Five Pointer’s face contorted in agony, but the man didn’t release his hold.

Werner and Mooch, even Viola, turned away, repulsed by the sight, but Nibsy watched with a cool detachment.

“What the hell’s happening to him?” Mooch asked, fear strangling his words.

“I told you the wagons would be protected,” James said.

“But you never said they would do that,” Werner argued.

“Didn’t I?” James asked, masking his amusement.

“Any one of us could’ve been killed,” Werner said, frowning.

“Not unless you had disobeyed my orders,” James told him. He watched with some satisfaction as the Five Pointer continued to writhe and scream.

If Torrio had thought to cut James out, he’d thought wrong.

“You kept this information from me as well,” Viola huffed, still visibly shaken by the sight.

He turned to her. “No one was supposed to touch the wagons, only to redirect them. Anyone who tried to change our agreed-upon plan and attempted to board one of the wagons would have deserved whatever happened to them,” he said, making his voice cold as he eyed her. “But then, I’m confident in the loyalty of the Devil’s Own. It’s the other parties involved that I didn’t trust.”

“You still should have told me,” she charged.

He shrugged. “There was no reason to.”

Temper flashed in Viola’s eyes. “You said we were partners.”

“No,” James told her. “I said you should come back to the Devil’s Own, that you should join me. I never said we would be equals.”

Growing bored with Viola’s display of temper—and with the conversation—James directed Werner to pull the cart into the park across from the building, far enough from the skirmish to be out of range and out of sight.

He turned his attention to Logan. “Is it there?”

“The wagon’s already empty,” the boy told him.

“How can he know this?” Viola demanded, as though she had any right to an answer.

“It’s his job to know,” James told her as he considered the building. “The Delphi’s Tear will already be inside, then.” Unfortunate, but not catastrophic. Not when he had yet another ace to play.

“Then it’s impossible,” Viola said, sounding far less devastated than she perhaps should have. But then, did she really believe he wouldn’t see through her duplicity?

James glanced at her over his spectacles, and this time he did not bother to affect any look of innocence. “I will consider sparing the lives of your friends if you tell me everything you know about what waits for us inside that building. Everything Theo Barclay learned about the layout of the Order’s new headquarters and what we might find inside.”

Viola stared at him, disbelief coloring her cheeks. Fear, too, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“Did you truly think I