Page 99 of No Man's Land

Josef considered punching him in the face, rejected the idea, and said, “Can’t say I feel the same.”

“I imagine not.” Dutta took a drag on his gasper, blew out an elegant stream of smoke, and said, “Nevertheless, I want to warn you.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Josef said, folding his arms. “I’m not afraid of you, or your bloody Society. Tell Saint to shove his warning where the sun don’t shine.”

Dutta’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not here on behalf of The Society.” In a different voice, he said, “I’m here as a friend.”

“You’re not my friend.”

“No. IamAlex’s friend, however.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

Dutta’s eyelids fluttered, the only sign of an emotional reaction. “You may think what you wish, but I came here to warn you that Alex is… not what he was.” His expression darkened. “You should prepare yourself.”

Despite his distrust of Dutta, Josef’s heart gave an unpleasant kick. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning that, if you’re going to run scared, it would be better if you left him alone.”

Josef’s cheeks heated. “I’m not going to run scared. I’m no coward.”

“No?” Dutta regarded him cooly, dropped his cigarette stub on the pavement, and ground it out with the toe of his shoe. “I told him from the outset that you’d be trouble, and I was right. This is where you’ve brought him. Remember that, when you go inside.”

“WhereI’vebrought him?” Josef hissed. “If it was up to you, he’d be dead.”

“True. Judge for yourself which of us is the better friend.”

With that he turned and stalked away, leaving Josef to watch him go with a sickening lurch in the pit of his stomach. He glanced up at the faceless windows of the mansion flats, and his scalp prickled. What the hell was he going to find inside?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Bracing his shoulders, Josef headed up the steps. As he’d expected, the doorman took one look at him and stepped forward. “Tradesman’s entrance is to the side, mate.”

“And I’ll be sure to tell any tradesmen I meet,” Josef said with a smile. “But I’m here to see Lord Alexander Beaumont. I’ve an appointment at twelve o’clock. For luncheon.”

The doorman looked sceptical.

Fishing in his pocket, Josef said, “I know the way,” and slipped the man half a crown. “No need to bother the concierge. He looks busy.”

With that, he walked quickly into the foyer and headed straight for the lift. Happily, the concierge was indeed busy placating a tall woman wearing an enormous hat and unfashionably long skirts and carrying a small dog tucked under one arm. Her strident demands for assistance with her luggage echoed around the lobby.

Stepping smartly into the hydraulic lift, Josef pulled the lever and let it whisk him up to the fourth floor. The last time he’d been here it had been dark, but this morning, the February light, still wintery but with a hint of spring strength, spilled into the corridor and lit his way to Alex’s door.

There, he hesitated. He’d told himself that truth, or the quest for it, had brought him here but as he stared at the black, polished door, he realised that hope was the true culprit. Hope that all was not lost, that something could be salvaged of his friendship with Alex.

As improbable and impossible as it had been, the bond they’d forged meant something. He wanted it to continue; Alex might not. If Dutta was right, Alex might not even be capable of friendship. His heart shrank from that, from what he might find behind the door, but he’d told Dutta the truth: he was no coward. He’d never been a coward, no matter what anyone thought, and he’d never run away from the truth.

Lifting his hand, Josef rapped on the door. Stomach clenching, pulse accelerating, he waited. And waited. His mouth went dry. He wet his lips, hesitated, and knocked again.

Rap, rap, rap.

A sound came from behind the door, the rattle of a key in the lock, a muffled curse. Josef’s adrenaline surged, a quicksilver flare in his chest, and the door opened.

“I didn’t order any bloody tea—” Alex broke off abruptly. His eyes went wide and, for the briefest moment, astonished.

“Pity,” Josef said, pulse racing, “I could do with a cuppa.”

Alex scowled. He leaned heavily on a black cane, his face pale and pinched, overgrown hair on the unkempt side of tousled. Shadows gathered beneath his eyes, and stubble darkened his jawline. Frankly, he looked awful. But he looked human, and Josef felt weak-kneed with relief.

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