Page 81 of Heart of Iron
“We oughta hurry, Mendici.”A young boy, by the sound of him.“Can’t keep the streets clear forever.”
“Ain’t nobody gonna cry hue, Jeremy.”The giant laughed.“Not in these parts.”
Lena’s gaze fell on the whistle, lying on the ground in front of her.She snatched for it but a boot came out of nowhere and ground it beneath his heel.
The giant smiled at her.“Well, ain’t you a pretty little puss?”
She tried to scramble to her hands and knees.Her skirts were wrapped firmly around her ankles by a weighted rope and she got nowhere for her efforts.Behind her a heavy metal boot stepped forward, hydraulics hissing.
“Rollins,” the giant gestured.“Pick her up and let’s get movin’.”
“What’d she mean with that whistle?”A young lad with dirty cheeks came into view, his eyes darting nervously.“Weren’t no noise from it.”He looked at her.“What’d you mean with that whistle?”
Licking the blood from her split lip, she summoned a smile.She could barely see for the throbbing of her head.“You’re in trouble now.”
The metal automaton leaned down with a steely hiss, its enormous hand closing around her waist.“Got her,” called an echoing voice from within.Then it straightened and she caught a glimpse of the man encased in the metal.
“Trouble?”Mendici looked up at her as she dangled precariously.“From whom?The Devil himself?”
Several men laughed.
“We know how to deal with the bleeders,” one called.
“Stick ’em with a shiv coated in hemlock,” another called, making a stabbing motion.
“Or a screamer.”
“Set Rollins and Percy on ’em,” another called.
The laughter swelled.
A shiver of unease ran through her.Far from being the threat it was, these men looked as though they’d relish the idea, and they sounded remarkably well prepared to handle it.If Will had heard the whistle, he’d be walking directly into an ambush.How she wished she’d never blown it.
“Come on, boys.”Mendici gave her a wink.“Let’s take her to see the master.”
***
Will sat at the kitchen counter, watching Esme stir her stew.The smell of it made his mouth water.This was the one place that felt like home to him.He’d spent hours here over the years, dozing lightly in the corner whilst Esme went about her jobs.
When she’d first became Blade’s thrall he’d found her presence disconcerting.Until that moment, the warren had been strictly all-male and he’d had little to do with women since his mother sold him to Tom Sturrett.
Esme had been grieving the loss of her husband, desperate straits forcing her to accept Blade’s protection.It had been her that taught him to read and fed him good food when his body tried to outgrow him.Her that bandaged his cuts when his first forays into the rookery ended in fights—fights that he’d gone seeking.
He had little recollection of his own mother.Esme was as close as he was ever going to get.
“So,” she murmured, tapping the wooden spoon against the pot and turning to face him.“What’s going on between you and Lena?”
The question shouldn’t have shocked him.There were no secrets in the warren, with four of them owning preternatural hearing.But he couldn’t recall ever saying anything that might have given them fodder for rumor.“What d’you mean?”
Esme gave him a look.“William Carver, let’s not pretend that I’m in any way stupid.Or blind.You wouldn’t want to insult me, would you?”
“Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on between her and I.And that’s the way I intend to keep it.”
With a speculative look on her face, she wiped her hands on her apron and crossed to sit beside him.“Why?”She slid a warm hand over his.“It’s clear you have feelings for her, Will.”
He scowled down at the scarred kitchen bench.“I can’t, Esme.”
“John felt the same, you know,” she whispered with a sympathetic look in her green eyes.“He was afraid to hurt me.Afraid he couldn’t control himself around me.We took our time, but it’s worked for us.”
