*Early April*
The monster collapsed in a heap. Not a real monster of course, just one that wanted to blow up a building for some twisted idiotic ideology or burn a few buildings regardless of who was inside or some such. So perhaps worse than a real monster. A creature of hell at least had the excuse of being evil. Will couldn't imagine why a human being would choose to carry out such heinous acts. When did explosions and mass death ever produce anything worthwhile except in a Hollywood blockbuster?
"Jem!" Will called, turning around. "Did you see that? Stopped a bloody arsonist with one blow!" His partner had been standing behind him a few moments before but now he was alone in the shadows. He frowned in annoyance- showing off was no fun alone! He glanced around to see if anyone else was going to jump out at him then shrugged and walked back towards Thames and the dockyard.
The path towards Whitechapel was deserted as Will walked onwards looking up and down the empty streets for Jem. A shape detached itself from the shadows and moved toward Will. Will started forward, then paused. It wasn't Jem, but rather a policeman- probably heading towards the arsonist he'd left handcuffed. Will pressed himself into the shadows since he wasn't in the mood to fill out forms and answer a bunch of questions about this unauthorized sortie of theirs. Will and Jem weren't cops exactly, they (sort of) worked for the Institute- a secret branch of the Interpol that had more freedom to act when dealing with transnational crime and terrorism. Sort of, as in, they weren't full fledged agents yet- but they would be when they turned 21 in a few months.
Tonight Will and Jem had been in town to blow off steam, when Will had dragged Jem down to investigate rumors floating in the Downworld about this area. Downworld was the institute's term for the vibrant criminal underworld network and everything and everyone involved in it. Such excursions weren't out of normal for Will- he often immersed himself into cases that weren't on the Institutes radar (for fun).
And it wasn't out of normal for Jem to get dragged in either. They were brothers in all but blood. Fortunately for them, Charlotte who headed the Institute in London had practically raised them, so they weren't likely to get into trouble. Not unless they created too much of a political (or physical) mess... or bent too many laws, which they hadn't tonight. Will frowned and took the time to unscrew a road sign to take home with him, he had to break at least one law on every outing or Jem would think he was going soft! Will raised his voice to a shout once the cop was gone, "Jem, you disloyal bastard! Where are you? You were supposed to be guarding my back!"
A faint reply answered him. "Over here. Follow the light."
Will moved toward the sound that seemed to be coming from a dark opening between two warehouses; a faint gleam was visible within the shadows. The young man who appeared at the mouth of the alley was pale—paler even than he usually was, which was quite pale indeed. His odd bright silver hair shone in the moonlight. His eyes were the same silver, and his fine-boned face was angular, the slight curve of his eyes the only clue to his heritage. There were dark stains across his white shirt, and his hands were thickly smeared with red.
Will tensed. "You're bleeding. What happened?"
Jem waved away Will's concern. "It's not my blood." He turned his head back toward the alley behind him. "It's hers."
In the far corner of the alley was a crumpled shape—when Will looked closely, he could make out the shape of a pale hand, and a wisp of fair hair.
"A dead woman?" Will asked.
"A girl, really. Not more than fourteen."
"If we'd only happened along a little earlier," Will said finally. "That bloody arsonist-"
Jem frowned. "I don't think he did that. He didn't have any blood on him. This girl was stabbed, repeatedly. And I don't think it was here, either. There simply isn't enough blood in the alley."
"Maybe she stumbled across the arsonist?"
"Maybe. But I think she was supposed to be burned- she'd just be another homeless person sleeping in the wrong building then- if she was even found. Those chemicals looked like they'd burn hot enough to destroy bones."
"Hmm I believe you are right James. Did you find anything to figure out why this location and this girl?"
"Here." Jem drew something from inside his jacket—a knife, wrapped in white cloth. "It's a sort of misericord, or hunting dagger. Look how thin the blade is."
Will took it. The blade was indeed thin, ending in a handle made of polished bone. So the killer knew his weapons… but had been sloppy in disposing the body and evidence. That was odd. With a frown he wiped the flat of the knife across his sleeve, scraping it clean until a symbol became visible. Two serpents, each biting the other's tail, forming a perfect circle.
"Ouroboros," Jem said, leaning in close to stare at the knife. "A double one. Now, what do you think that means?"
"The end of the world," said Will, still looking at the dagger, a small smile playing about his mouth, "and the beginning."
Jem frowned. "I understand the symbology, William. I meant, what do you think its presence on the dagger signifies? This is clearly related to the Downworld."
The wind off the river was ruffling Will's hair; he brushed it out of his eyes with an impatient gesture and went back to studying the knife. After wrapping the handkerchief around the blade carefully, Will slipped it into his jacket pocket. "I don't know but D'you think Charlotte will let me handle the investigation?"
"Do you think you can be trusted in Downworld? The gambling hells, the dens of magical vice, the women of loose morals…"
Will smiled the way Lucifer might have smiled, moments before he fell from Heaven. "Would tomorrow be too early to start looking, do you think?"
Jem sighed. He often wondered if Will went out of his way to find cases like these, that were sure to pull at Charlotte's sympathies, just to have an excuse to hang out in the Downworld some more. "Do what you like, William. You always do."
Tessa could not remember a time when she had not loved the clockwork angel. It had belonged to her mother once, a gift that father had crafted by himself, or so Aunt Harriet had told her in one of her nicer moods. Tessa's mother had been wearing it when she died. After that it had sat in her mother's jewelry box, until her brother, Nathaniel- Nate, took it out one day to see if it was still in working order, and to pawn it off it he could. When the pawn broker told him it was worthless he'd given it to Tessa. She knew, not because he told her, but because she had followed him that night.
The angel was no bigger than Tessa's pinky finger, a tiny statuette made of brass, with folded bronze wings. It had a delicate metal face with shut crescent eyelids, and hands crossed over a sword in front. A thin chain that looped beneath the wings allowed the angel to be worn around the neck like a locket. It was the only pretty thing she kept. One of the few things she truly valued.
Life as a thief and con artist brought her close to many pretty things, but they never meant anything to her- not more than a challenge and a source of money to fund her needs. Which was mostly a few safe places to stay, food and clothes- a lot of clothes. Not because she loved fashion but because the key to being a successful con artist was to blend in where ever she went. She'd been a waitress, a maid, a chauffeur, even a sommelier, occasionally she'd be the girlfriend or escort. Once she'd pretended to be a baroness- which had been as fun as it had been risky. So yes, a lot of clothes.
Then there was the love of her life… books. She adored rare first additions… but those sold for a lot on the black market so she stuck to reproductions. And fake IDs, top notch fake IDs cost money. In her business she needed to take and shed names often. And she did. She reveled in the anonymity and the power, though she missed the sound of her real name. Tessa. No one had called her that in years. Not since she ran away from home four and half years ago.
She missed having people she could trust and confide in. She'd made 'friends' and acquaintances in her various aliases and sometimes she even kept in touch with them… but it wasn't the same. She worked with others sometimes, as a part of a crew. But she was always in disguise, some of them probably didn't even know she was a girl. She wouldn't give up the identity of the people she worked with, but to expect others in her business to have the same ethics would have been the heights of stupidity. And Tessa was not stupid so she kept everyone at bay. She missed having a place she could call home too. The longest she stayed anywhere was three months. She had a few safe locations but staying longer always made her feel as if she was being watched and followed. The only thing she let herself take from place to place was her clockwork angel and a few books.
She didn't know how long this job would take though. She was in London to find information on Nate. He had moved to London for work for a pharmaceutical company and was getting treatment for his gambling addiction. His emails claimed he wanted to be with his family again and had asked them to move to live with him in London. Aunt Harriet had petitioned Tessa for a fresh start, over multiple emails, to agree to the move. Tessa had finally agreed and sent Nate an email- the first once since she'd left home, to discuss things. Her only contact with her family before then had been to send blank postcards to her aunt every month.
But then everything had gone quiet on Nate's end. Aunt Harriet had been worried in her emails and then she'd taken sick and died suddenly. The autopsy claimed heart attack. Tessa would have believed the death was natural, her Aunt hadn't been young or lived a particularly healthy lifestyle, if not for the ambush at her funeral. It had been a narrow escape, and she was certain they hadn't been the police with their masks and guns. Suddenly she had been worried for Nate. Was someone targeting her family to get to her? Was Nate still alive?
The angel lay against her chest as she slept, its constant tick-tock, tick-tock like the beating of a second heart. She needed the comfort tonight. She sighed and willed herself to sleep. It was a trick she'd learned long ago- to get rest when she could, especially before a job. Tiredness led to mistakes, which meant getting caught. And that was one of Tessa's main rules- don't get caught.
The morning dawned dreary gray and rainy. Umbrella, she'd need to get an umbrella. A gust of wind blew through her University of Helsinki hoodie ('borrowed' from a real student living at the hostel she'd stayed at last night) making Tessa shiver. Warmer clothes too! If April was this miserable she didn't want to experience London in December! Hunching her shoulders, Tessa joined the crowd on the streets despite the freezing drop of ran making her hands shiver. It would be hours yet before shops opened, but she didn't want to waste time. The first step would be to get a feel of the city and find the Dark House. It was her only clue from Nate's emails and it was clearly a code name for an illegal business. She would need to find promising criminal haunts to gather information from.
A week later, Tessa found herself at the Devil's Tavern. It was one of those back alley places that most people remained blissfully unaware of, and cops didn't venture into easily. She eyed a handsome blue eyed fellow and considered catching his attention. He looked to be about her age, perhaps a bit older. And from the way he eyed the waitress he was definitely straight. She'd seen him at two other such haunts in as many days. Something about him made her wary so she'd kept her distance and made her exit the last two times. This time she'd been planning to do the same until she heard him ask about the Dark House.
She was hoping for a clue as to the location of the place. Why couldn't Nate have mentioned that in his email? Even as she considered catching those blue eyes, Tessa was noticed by one of the hustler types that every dive bar seemed to have. She flirted a bit but then turned him down nicely. He was a softie under that gruff exterior. Not everyone at a place like this was a hard core criminal- she certainly didn't consider herself one.
Tessa had almost extricated herself from the situation when Mr. Blue eyed decided to play 'rescue the damsel'… and she, for want of information, let him.
"That asshole bothering you, sweetie." Sweetie?! Did she look 12? Ugh! He was lucky he was handsome!
"You looking at a mirror, love?" Tessa sassed back.
"Love? Bit early for that innit?" His looked her over as if he hadn't seen her before. He had. For five whole minutes while she turned the hustler down. His look turned leery, "At least let me show you a good time first."
She raised an eyebrow intrigued by the book stuffed into his jacket, "Good time, eh?" Tessa sauntered closer to him and placed her hands on his chest with an appreciative smirk of her own "I wouldn't mind discussing-" pulled the paperback out of his inside pocket and snorted unimpressed at the title, "The Alchemist? A bit condescending and preachy, don't you think?" He looked surprised by the assessment. Or perhaps the fact that she had an opinion on it.
"Perhaps but his words read like poetry. 'At every moment of our lives, we all have one foot in a fairy tale and the other in the abyss.'" He quoted airily and then gave her a suggestive smile, "How 'bout we head out and I show you a rocking fairy tale of a time?" So he read to find awful pickup lines? The quote wasn't from the Alchemist. He was calling her bluff on reading it. Too bad this was her favorite game.
Tessa laughed, "Eleven Minutes!" and then sighed with mock disappointment, "More pseudo-philosophy. Or is that your way of telling me the extent of your stamina?"
He had been in the middle of a gulp of beer which he then choked on from laughing. "Oh, luv, my stamina's never been an issue. Go on, have at it."
Where had she heard that before? Hmm... "Now, now, that's cheating. The Originals, and said by a much handsomer man than you." Tessa smiled in triumph at his embarrassed grin. He should be too… why would a grown man who spent time at the Devil's Tavern even be watching a show for teenage girls?
He was distracted from responding by the bartender, so he let him place a hand on her waist while he ordered shots for them. She didn't want to get away anymore than he wanted to let her. The bartender covertly slipped him a smudged piece of paper folded into the change from his pint. Perfect- it had to be the address for the elusive Dark House.
Tessa let a pleased smile show when the blue-eyed fellow pulled her closer after carefully pocketing the address. This was going to be easy. Tessa downed her shot and stepped even closer caressing his chest and used his distraction to get the address. His trailed his hand down hers and made gentle swirls on her wrist that made heat spread through her body- prompting her to blush. It felt good- too good, she'd been expecting handsy-grabby not gentleness. Not that she would've minded handsy-grabby-ness from a hunk like him but blushing wasn't something women at the Devil's Tavern did. A disguise only went so far if one couldn't play the part. And Tessa had erred. She'd gotten what she needed, time to create a distraction and vanish before he noticed any thing odd.
"Drinks on me," Tessa whispered into his ears weaving her free hand into his dark soft locks.
"Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life." He mumbled into her ear. She would bet that he was smirking at the thought he'd out quoted her.
"Fitzgerald," She gave him a sexy smile, "The Beautiful and the Damned. You've definitely got one of those covered."
Her teasing flattery didn't work though. His smiled turned crooked and his deep cerulean eyes unfocused. It made Tessa curious about this man, she wanted to explore this hidden side and tread those hidden depths in his eyes. Or perhaps she was reading more into this because he was so handsome- maybe he was just shallow and had run out of quotes to tease her with.
"No, sweetie, you'd be right on both counts." He detangled Tessa's hand from his hair and took a step away "'I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire.'"
"Shakespeare," Tessa whispered in surprise because he'd quoted it so desolately as if he really believed he was doomed to torment. His breath caught and there was an odd look in his eye as he kissed the inside of her palm and walked away without another word. No need for a distraction then, was the only thought Tessa's stunned brain managed to produce. She shook her head and made her exit before her mystery man backtracked to find her.
Tessa settled into the cab and let her thoughts drift to him as she headed to the address scribbled on the stolen paper. Her palm tingled where he'd kissed her making her blush again. She wouldn't normally have been mortified at such a rejection, since she hadn't been at the tavern as Tessa- so why did she feel slighted? Because she'd talked to him as Tessa- that spark she'd sensed between them hadn't been for the scruffy, gum chewing, makeup caked purple haired girl he'd seen but for Tessa- the brunette who loved books, window seats and tea. Flirting hadn't been necessary- she could have easily picked his pocket in passing or just talked with the bartender. But he'd been dreamily handsome and it'd been a while since she'd been with anyone. Especially someone with such delectable lean hard muscles. That he liked books and had a gentle side had been a happy extra. She sighed, maybe once she checked out the address she could pick up another dark haired blue eyed stranger. She discarded the idea almost immediately- she wasn't likely to stop wondering about the hidden depths and sadness of a different pair of blue eyes tonight or many nights yet.
Jem awoke to the sounds of an odd thumping noise. Not the usual thumping noise Will made when he had company, if it had been that kind of thumping Jem would never have ventured out of his room. Not anymore at least. He had been accosted with the sight of Will with his various paramours many times over years that they'd known each other. Mostly because Will never took them to his bedroom. Will's bedroom was 'sacred', or so he claimed. He insisted on utilizing the lounge- their shared lounge for all his late night encounters. Tonight Jem wasn't in the mood for either watching or participating, which he had occasionally done (arguing Will out of his crazy ideas was beyond him, and Will did have a knack for finding girls that liked the extra attention).
Jem definitely wanted more sleep tonight but it seemed unlikely with the ruckus Will was making. He walked out to the lounge to find Will trying to give himself a concussion against the glass table by letting his head fall on it repeatedly. He suppressed a sigh, this was Will when he did something stupid. "Were you blacklisted at another Downworld place? What was it this time? Broke all the furniture in a fight or stole a girl from another gang?"
Will had started a huge highly memorable fight once when he tried to help out a girl last year. And the Institute had gotten dragged into the mess, everyone had worked nonstop for weeks to put away the outlaw motorcycle gang that had come after him. Biker gangs got very possessive about their 'property'. Luckily it had been a small gang without many chapters or much power. Despite his many faults and abrasive personality, Will had a good heart and it shone through sometimes.
"I met someone. She was something." Will said with a weird breathy quality to his voice. Jem was surprised. Women rarely made an impression on him. Usually it was the other way round.
"Must have been something if she said no to you." Will was handsome and very charming when he wanted to be. If a girl got away, she was either very strong willed or very not into men.
"She was, oh she was!" Will sighed dramatically, "She stole my wallet and I didn't even realize it. Undid days of work in tracking down the symbol from that knife!"
This girl really must have been a knockout if Will was distracted enough to let his guard slip. It was a trait Jem and Will shared, they were laser focused when it came to work (and being aware of their immediate surroundings). He sighed and walked over to the mini-fridge to get a waffle and a glass of milk. Will was easier to talk to when he had something starchy and sweet to munch on. Will wouldn't admit it, but it was one of his ways to deal with stress. And Will was stressed right now. He'd mentioned a dead sister once, and Jem would bet his precious violin that the body from the alley had stirred up troubling memories for his friend.
Jem watched Will take a giant bite of his waffle and chew on it like a dejected kid, and waited for him to speak. And when he did, Jem couldn't stop laughing- Will, his friend, his brother in all but blood was whining because his pride was hurt. He'd been pick-pocketed and fooled by a girl. Oh, Jem never thought he'd see the day. This girl seemed like someone worth meeting! He didn't fail to note how vague he'd been for the reason that she wasn't here right now.
"It's ok Will, we'll go back when the tavern opens tomorrow and raid this Dark House as well. You wouldn't have gone there tonight anyhow. You had no backup." It was true, the institute had been hired to do a security audit for a firm so everyone was busy with that.
Will grumbled but he knew Jem was right. It just rankled that he'd been so oblivious as to let someone empty his pocket! What was next- would he walk up to a mugger and ask to be robbed? Or invite burglars to raid his home? Or ask to be kidnapped? It was pathetic for someone as badass as him to be pick-pocketed!
Jem brought Will another waffle and coaxed him into bed. Will would need it, they had a meeting with Charlotte in a few hours. He still longed for his warm comfy bed, but it was almost sunrise. Jem's alarm was set to go off in an hour so he decided to work on his composition some more. There was never enough time to play and write as much music as he wanted to.