Page 65 of Heart of Iron
“Let him go, boys.”
They stepped aside, breathing hard.
“You’re bleeding.”Lynch’s nostrils flared.
Will winced.The rage washed out of him, a half-dozen cuts and bruises suddenly springing to attention.The throb in his back intensified as the heat washed out of his head and his vision returned to normal.He glanced over his shoulder, then swore as it pulled through the muscles in his back.There was something sharp there.
Lynch reached out and yanked a glass sliver out of his muscle.
Sonofabitch.Will hissed.“Some warnin’ would have been nice.”
“You’ll heal.”Lynch said.“Perhaps it will teach you to keep a cool head.”He glanced at one of his comrades.“Take a witness statement, Garrett.And an estimation of the damage.”
For the first time Will looked around.Glass littered the room, precious jewels tumbling from their cases onto the timber floors.Blood dripped from a nasty sliver of glass casing and he had the pleasure of the memory of smashing Colchester’s face into it, again and again.
The shopkeeper stared at the damage soundlessly.His eyes were wide and unblinking.“How am I going to tell Martha?”he whispered.“The duke’ll blacken my name.He’ll destroy me.”
Will’s fingers curled in shame.He should have held his temper.“I’ll pay the damage bill.”
Lynch grabbed his arm and gestured toward the front door.The grim crawl of evening darkened the sky outside, thick clouds boiling on the horizon.“I’d suggest it’s time for you to leave.It wouldn’t surprise me if Colchester returns—with a few friends.He’s not likely to take this lying down.And I’ve done as much as I can.”
Will nodded.Christ.What had he been thinking?He hadn’t obviously.One mention of Lena and the rage had overtaken him completely.Then his eyes narrowed.“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why help me?”He could count the number of people who’d ever volunteered to help him on one hand; in his experience, there was always a price.
Lynch paused in the doorway, eyeing the curious crowd that was beginning to form.Tiny lines feathered out from the corners of his eyes, and his dark brows drew together in a frown.“Three years ago Blade saved my life down in the sewers.I owe him.Consider this repayment.”
Will eyed the other man’s tense shoulders.“And?”
Lynch stroked his smooth jaw.“There is…a certain amount of pressure coming from the Council.I need to locate a revolutionary by the name of Mercury.He leads the humanist movement here in London and he’s directly responsible for the firing of the draining factories.I’m not a fool, Carver.Blade has ears in places I could never reach.”A direct look into Will’s eyes.“And so do you.I could smell your scent in the tunnels when we arrested the pair responsible for the draining factories.”
“We had naught to do with that.”
“I know.The pair told us everything.They thought they’d killed Blade.”
“Only stuck him a bit.”No need to spread word that Blade was fallible.His legend had kept the Echelon at bay for fifty years.“You want word o’ Mercury then?”
“Anything you know.”
A chill feathered down his spine.Lynch was desperate.He could smell the edge on him.No doubt the Council was tightening the noose around his throat.Everybody knew that the Nighthawks were comprised of rogue blue bloods—those created illegally or accidentally.Most rogues were killed when they first became infected with the craving.Those that could control themselves were offered another choice: a grim, solitary life as a Nighthawk, kept on the leash of the Council.They were useful to the Echelon, but they would never be a part of them.
Expendable.
Especially if they didn’t perform.
The image of that coded letter he’d found on Lena sprang to mind.If there was any way she could be connected to the humanists, to this Mercury… The fear grew, gnawing at his gut.What had she gotten herself involved in?First Colchester and now this.
“I’ll keep me eyes open,” he said, aware that Lynch was watching him intently.“Anythin’ I hear I’ll pass along.”
Lynch searched his gaze.“I wouldn’t cross me on this, Carver.If there’s anything you know—anything at all—you’d best tell me.”
Will nodded.The Nighthawk had picked up on the tension in his body no doubt.“Aye.I’ll send word if I hear anythin’.”
Firsthehad to figure out exactly what was going on.
Fourteen
