Page 5 of Heart of Iron
All that space, the caverns and homes carved into the old underground tunnel scheme.Empty.Or was it?
Will hauled the grate out of the cobbles and dropped down into the dark, landing lightly on the pads of his feet.His nose told him there was nothing there.Nothing but refuse and the odd rat skittering away.
Without the ash or a breeze, it was easier to follow the trail.The men weren’t moving fast, probably thinking they were safe from the Echelon and their metal army down here.Will shook his head.Dead men walking.The Echelon didn’t just rely on the metaljackets.Give them an hour and the tunnels would be full of Nighthawks, the infamous guild of trackers that did most of the thief-taking in the city.Rogue blue bloods who could smell almost as well as he could and track a shadow over stone, or so it was said.
He’d have to hurry if he wanted to get his hands on them first.
He waded into the sluggish stream, his nose almost shutting down.He’d smelled worse things—the vampire sprang to mind—but right now they were only a distant memory.It was the curse of heightened senses.He could smell everything, from a woman’s natural musk to the slight hint of poison in a cup; he could see for miles and if he listened, he could hear things people didn’t want him to hear.
Like stealthy footsteps, a few hundred yards in front of him.
Will made no sound as he stalked them.Whispers echoed and then a light appeared.A shuttered smuggler’s lantern by the look of it.
“Got him,” the short, fat one crowed.“Right in the chest.Won’t be so high-and-mighty now, will he?”
Will’s eyes narrowed.
“Shut up,” the taller shadow snarled.The acrid scent of fear-sweat washed off him.“Didn’t you see his bloody face?”
A shrug.The short man sloshed through the water carelessly.“All looks the same to me.Pasty-faced vultures.”
“It was him,” the other man replied with a shudder.“The devil himself!”
“The Devil of Whitechapel?”The shorter man’s face stretched in a delighted grin.“Cor, Freddie!All them years and the Echelon themselves ain’t been able to get near him!And you done him in!You’re famous now!”
“I’m bloody dead, is what I am,” Freddie snapped back.“If that were the devil, then you know who the other one was!”
Will took another step forward, drawing the blade at his side.He smiled.That’s right, you son of a bitch.You’re in trouble now.
“Who?”
“The Beast,” Will hissed, his voice echoing out of the darkness.
Freddie screamed and swung the lantern.
Will smashed it aside and it hit the water and hissed out.Darkness fell like a theatre curtain, but he was already moving, driving his fist up under the whistling swing of an arm and connecting with a pair of ribs.Bone snapped and then Freddie was down with a gurgling cry, splashing under the water.
Will stilled, listening to the frantic sound of breathing.
“Freddie?”the fat man whispered.He fumbled for the sides of the sewer, his breath high-pitched and panting.
Will took a slow step forward, water sloshing around his knees.
“Oh, God.”The fat man tried to run.“Oh, God, no!I didn’t have naught to do with it!It were Freddie!Leave me alone!”
Will grabbed his cloak and hauled him back.He landed with a splash, his legs kicking in the sewer water as he squealed like a downed pig.Fisting the cloak, Will wrapped it around the fat man’s throat and then hauled him up in a choking grip.
“Who are you?Who do you work for?”
The fat man kicked, making strangled sounds.Will held him long enough for the kicking to falter, then dropped him in the water.
Movement behind him.He lashed out, catching the heavy metal tube as Freddie swung it and followed through with a punch.Blood sprayed as his fist connected with Freddie’s nose.The coppery tang of it flavored the air, and Freddie screamed and fell back into the water.
“Jaysus.”The fat man sobbed, his throat hoarse.
Will caught him up by the coat and slammed him back against the slimy walls.He slid his hand into the man’s coat, rifling his pockets.A switchblade the idiot was too dumb to draw, a piece of waxed paper, and an odd, finger-shaped device.Another one of those noisemakers.He pocketed both it and the piece of paper.
“Consider yourself lucky he ain’t dead.”The thought set off the red-hot flare of rage in his head, and he slammed the fat man against the wall.Then again.
