Page 21

“Look, I understand you’re upset—” Evander began.

“Do you?” Viggo’s voice was deceptively quiet. “Because I’m not entirely convinced you do.”

The carriage wheels clattered across the cobblestones as they departed Covent Garden, the silence between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

Evander’s chest tightened with remorse when he studied Viggo’s stony profile in the dim light of the passing streetlamps.

The Brute’s jaw was clenched so tight it looked painful.

“Leon is here on official business, Viggo. I had no idea he would be in London until this morning.” Evander ran a hand through his hair. “And had I known he would behave so atrociously this evening, I would have declined his invitation.”

“Why were you having dinner with him?”

A tendril of irritation coiled through Evander at Viggo’s accusing tone.

“Because he told me he had important information to impart about our case.”

Viggo crossed his arms, his face set in mutinous lines. “So this information was so important you had to drink champagne while discussing it?”

Evander lowered his brows at the Brute’s mocking voice.

“The champagne was Leon’s idea.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “Why are you acting like this? You know I am committed to our relationship.”

Viggo’s dark eyes flashed in the dim carriage. “It’s clear your former lover has designs on you.”

“That doesn’t mean I intend to respond to his advances!” Evander snapped.

A hurt look flashed in Viggo’s eyes. He turned his face to the window, a muscle twitching in his cheek. “When were you planning to tell me about him?”

“Tonight. When you arrived at my townhouse as requested in my message.” Evander fought to keep his voice level. “We haven’t seen each other since yesterday morning, if you recall.”

A loaded silence fell between them once more.

They didn’t speak again until they reached Evander’s townhouse. Hargrove opened the door with an expression that was far too innocent for Evander’s liking.

“My Lord,” he said, bowing slightly. His gaze drifted to Viggo. “Mr. Stonewall, I’m pleased to see you found his Grace.”

“He did indeed,” Evander said coolly. “I trust you’ve enjoyed your evening?”

The manservant’s face remained impressively impassive. “I have, my Lord.”

Evander’s mouth pressed to a thin line. “Please ensure we’re not disturbed.”

“Of course, my Lord.” Hargrove bowed again, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he retreated.

Evander led Viggo to his study and closed the door firmly behind them. The lamps were already lit, their radiance casting a warm glow over the leather-bound books lining the walls and the polished oak desk in the centre of the room.

Evander moved to the sideboard where crystal decanters glinted in the lamplight. He was in need of some fortification after this evening’s debacle.

“Would you care for a drink?”

“No,” Viggo said shortly. He stood with his back to the fireplace, his broad shoulders tense beneath his formal evening attire. “I’d prefer you tell me about this case of yours.”

Evander frowned as he poured himself a measure of whisky. He took a sip before speaking.

“A professor from the Royal Institute went missing three nights ago. His name is Walter Whitley. He is a specialist in advanced Elemental Magic.” He swirled the amber liquid in his glass.

“Leon came to London because Henri Chevalier, a French professor who is also a specialist in the same field and who was working with Whitley on a mutual research project, vanished five days ago.”

Viggo stared. “The Met believes dark mages are involved in their disappearances?”

“Yes,” Evander confirmed grimly. “That’s only half the story. Today we discovered that James Thornfield, one of Whitley’s most promising students, has also gone missing.” He met Viggo’s gaze steadily. “We were attacked by shadow creatures when we examined Whitley’s laboratory this afternoon.”

Viggo startled. He crossed the room and grabbed Evander’s shoulders, his eyes dark with concern and his anger about Leon all but gone.

“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?!”

Evander’s belly twisted at the fear drenching the Brute’s voice and the strength in his anxious grip. He put his glass down and clasped Viggo’s hand. “I’m alright. Leon and I managed to defeat them.”

Viggo heaved a sigh of relief and drew Evander close so he could hug him. “Thank God!”

The tightness in Evander’s chest loosened. He sank into the Brute’s embrace, his lover’s presence providing a rare moment of peace in what had been a tumultuous two days.

Evander hesitated, reluctant to voice the most disturbing revelation yet. “Whitley and Chevalier were researching magical transference.”

“Magical transference?” Viggo pulled back, his brow furrowing. “What does that mean exactly?”

“They were investigating the theoretical possibility of transferring magical abilities from one person to another.”

Viggo went deadly still. “You mean taking magic from mages and giving it to others?” he said in a dangerous voice.

“Or perhaps the reverse,” Evander said quietly. “Robbing others of their magic and giving it to dark mages.”

He could tell they were both thinking about the Blood Siphon and what it had been intended for. Viggo’s next words made his blood run cold.

“Thralls are disappearing across London. That’s why I came to find you tonight.” The Brute’s face hardened. “And now I’m beginning to wonder if this is somehow connected to your missing professors.”

“What?” Evander’s heart raced as he stared at his lover. “How many thralls?!”

“At least eighteen that we know of so far,” Viggo replied grimly.

“All were in the employ of a noble. And all left suspicious resignation letters that turned up after their disappearance. There’s worse.

A body was found in the Thames this morning—a thrall named James Harker.

He worked for a bookbinder in Mayfair. Lord Fairfax informed us about it. ”

Surprise jolted Evander. “Lord Fairfax? You mean Lord Aldous Fairfax?!”

Viggo nodded. “The very one.”

Evander’s mind reeled. “How on earth is he involved in this?”

“The first thrall whose disappearance we became aware of was his footman, Tom Simmons. Tom’s sister came to Nightshade yesterday and requested our help.

When Solomon and I visited Lord Fairfax, not only did he tell us Tom’s resignation letter had come as a bolt from the blue, he also informed us about another thrall who had just gone missing.

A protégé of his by the name of Katherine Stoker.

She started working at Hampton Shipping two months ago, a job Fairfax introduced her to. ”

Evander’s stomach knotted. “What about the Met? Why has no one informed the authorities about these disappearances?”

Viggo’s expression grew shuttered. “Their families did, Evander. But they were ignored by the officers they talked to.”

Evander stiffened. “Surely you are jesting?! This is too grave a matter to be so summarily ignored!”

“Their reports never made their way up the chain of command, so no one made the connection between the disappearances.” Viggo clenched his jaw.

“This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.

You know full well how deeply ingrained the prejudice against thralls remains, not just in the Met but in every organisation that holds authority in our society.

I believe Lord Fairfax and his associates intend to visit Scotland Yard and make a case for these disappearances to be taken seriously. ”

Evander opened his mouth to protest and was forced to swallow his words. He could not deny the veracity of Viggo’s words. He grabbed his drink and gulped the remainder of his whisky in one swallow, the alcohol burning a path down his throat.

He set the glass down with a sharp clink and finally regained his composure. “Is that why you didn’t come to Ginny’s dinner yesterday?”

An uncomfortable look crossed Viggo’s face. “Yes. We were still in the midst of interviewing the relatives of the thralls and other persons of interest.” He faltered.

Evander lowered his brows. “What is it?”

“We talked to a witness yesterday,” Viggo confessed quietly.

“A thrall who would have become another victim if not for the fact that he was carrying a crude anti-magic object on his person. He described apparitions that sounded like shadow creatures attempting to attack him before he managed to run away. Not long after we interviewed him, a dark mage tailed me in Bethnal Green. He used shadow manipulation to make his escape.”

Evander’s pulse spiked. “What?!” He scanned the Brute from head to toe. “Did he?—?!”

Viggo shook his head. “I’m alright.”

Evander’s nails dug into his palms as he fisted his hands, his mind racing. “You believe dark mages are behind the thralls’ disappearances too?”

“I’m convinced they are,” Viggo said sourly. “The shadow creatures are proof of that. And for some reason, they are going after thralls with some sort of connection to the nobility. We’ve decided to set a trap for them.”

Evander didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “What kind of trap?”

“I requested Ginny’s assistance in the matter. Solomon is going to pretend to be one of her employees.”

Evander stared, confused.

“All the thralls who went missing disappeared at night in parts of London that are the exclusive remit of the nobility,” Viggo explained. “Belgravia, Kensington, and Mayfair are among them. Solomon will visit the areas where the thralls are known to have vanished and act as bait.”

Evander clenched his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me this last night?”

“It was only today that we confirmed Tom Simmons’s resignation letter was likely forged, and Lord Fairfax informed us about the dead man and five more disappearances,” Viggo retorted. “That’s why I came to find you tonight.”

Evander’s temper flared. “You could have sent a note, Viggo.”

“I was gathering evidence first,” Viggo shot back. “I wanted to be certain before I brought it to your attention. And I wanted to do so in person.”

Evander scowled. “That’s rich coming from the man who just castigated me for not immediately sharing information about Leon!”