Page 31 of The Hellion is Tamed

“None,” Simon returned, the coin getting away from him and bouncing off his boot.

“Pointless being possessive of a lass you don’t want,” Humphrey added for good measure. “Maybe a bonny thing if she marries someone else. You’d never know one day to the next if she’s planning to stay in the same year as you, which could make for a rewarding union. Most marriages, the wife never being around is a blessed event.”

“Tell them about the problem, Si. The tracer.”

This from Finn. Lobbing his own firecracker into the church, Simon thought. “Thanks for the mind read,” he muttered, going to his knee to root around for the half crown.

Finn stacked his linked hands on his belly and gave another resounding yawn. “Anytime.”

Julian glanced up from his sketch. “Tracer?”

Locating the coin beneath a mahogany drum table, Simon rose to his feet and started an unsteady trek around the study. Just what he needed—Julian asking questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer. “This didn’t come up in my research, and we have nothing about it in the chronology, but there are people, time travelers themselves, whotrackthose who travel. From the little Emma’s told me, they sound like Bobbies.”

“The tracer brings them back to their own time before any troubles occur,” Humphrey said from his spot resting against the sideboard.

“Complicating the situation, he casts spells, as Emma describes it, rendering her…” Simon halted in the alcove overlooking his beloved club and rapped his knuckles on the polished walnut balustrade. He didn’t need to show this perceptive group his face when rage and apprehension washed over it. Then they’d know everything. “She said he touches her, and she faints. Instantly. Which is when he returns her to her time. Completely helpless.”

Julian drew his pencil across his bottom lip in thought. Simon could see the wheels in his mind turning. His brother loved nothing more than discovering elements of the supernatural world the League had no prior knowledge of. “It’s likely he could use this power on others. A clear threat until we know the extent of what he can do. We’ll add this to the chronology and document as we learn more.”

Simon flipped the half crown between his fingers and lost it again, this time over the balustrade. He winced when he heard it bounce off the gaming salon’s marble floor with a dull clink. “I want the tracer kept away from Emma, from this family. I’ll speak to Ashcroft about increasing the footmen guarding her, the patrols on his townhouse, on yours, Finn’s. A few of the duke’s former soldiers are still in his employ. If pressed, we need men able to take care of business and take care of it promptly. Back to a time when we have to worry, I’m sorry to say.”

“We’ve never been able to let down our guard, Si, not once in twenty years. Anyway, I think I have a plan,” Julian said in a judicious tone that had Simon wishing for another coin to toss, unease a chilling dance along his spine. “The guards, of course, I agree with. We protect our own. But…” He gestured with the pencil to Simon’s pocket, where the Soul Catcher continued to glow, a brilliant, iridescent blue. A neat trick it had never done before Emma’s arrival. It was as if the stone recognized her presence in their time, as Simon did. A pulse strong as his heartbeat. “Your girl doesn’t have the stone, which helps control her travel. Therefore, the tracer will have to come to her.”

“No.” Simon took a halting step forward. “We’re not using her as bait in some damned mystical game, Jules. I won’t have it.”

Julian continued as if Simon hadn’t tendered an argument. “Her gift is blindingly unique, Si. And extremely valuable to us. Even if she never travels again, stays in Mayfair the rest of her days, we can record every facet of a supernatural talent we know nothing about.” He held up a hand at Simon’s exacting expression. “What did you find in the chronology during your years-long examination into locating a portal and reaching her? Not much. We had to use our contacts in other countries to begin to dip our toes in that pond and find a way to her. And, now, this information she’s told you about there being others who track? It’s astounding. Inconceivable.”

Simon crossed to Julian, braced his hands on the desk and leaned in. An intimidating stance, one his eldest brother might not appreciate. It’d been a marvel when he’d grown big and broad enough to challenge his family, not be immediately shoved into the dirt. The duke had trained them in hand-to-hand maneuvers, but until a man had the size to defend, skill mattered little.

Simon might go down, but he wouldn’t go easily.

“Here comes the temper.” Finn stretched his legs out and gave a sleepy sigh. “I love this part. Certainly, better entertainment than that atrocious play by the Prince of Wales I saw last month at the Globe. He’s a horrible writer.”

“A tantrum every now and then is good for the soul,” Henry advised from his spot in the dark corner where he’d retreated.

“Shut it, you two,” Simon snapped, digging his fingertips into the desk’s smooth grain. “You supported my researching time travel, finding Emma so that we could record every goddamned detail in that book of yours, Jules. Am I right?”

Julian placed his sketchpad on the desk and scooted his chair forward with a squeal that splintered the charged silence. His stormy eyes pierced Simon through his fine woolen coat. Threatening—telling a little brother to stand down. The touch of gray at Julian’s temples giving him an air of wisdom he’d had since long before the gray arrived. “The plan has always been to investigate Emma’s gift. Have her join the League once you found her.” Julian flicked his pencil like a baton, gesturing to the men assembled in the room. “As my wife, Finn’s wife, Humphrey’s, have joined. Provide protection and the opportunity to live without censure. To live as oneis, not as one is expected tobe. I’ve devoted my life to creating the League, to safeguarding those with supernatural abilities. And to investigating the occult, yes. I understand, all too well, caring for someone who is at risk, Si. As Piper was. You were a key piece of her rescue, just a boy, but already one of us. What is it now…?” Julian tapped his finger to the bridge of his nose. Reserved, dignified Jules, whom Simon loved to his core.

He could only think,of course, this is how you’d play it.

“Eighteen years, almost nineteen,” Simon whispered, well aware of what his brother was doing but tangling himself in the web anyway. Rolling the dice when he hadn’t even known a game was in play.

“A long time, that, and now you think to question my loyalty, my concern for you and those whomatterto you?”

Simon shook his head and rocked back on his heels, chastised. His fingertips itched with the need to twist a coin between them. But he was in the middle of a game—and his obsession with keeping his hands busy was a colossal tell.

Julian sighed, dug a loose button from the top drawer, and flipped it to Simon, who caught it with a one-handed snatch. “If you care about the girl,Icare about the girl. I propose that we prepare for this tracer to seek her out, perhaps even send signals to him, never knowing, of course, if he receives them. We have those in the League who can communicate without speaking. Telepathic. That footman who arrived from Spain last year and is working for Finn is quite good. If someone can procure an item from this tracer’s person, something as inconsequential as a toothpick, and I’m able to read it, God knows what we’ll find out.”

“Let’s go with Spain,” Finn said, surprisingly not asleep. “He and I have contests to see who can read a mind faster. I’ve got him there, but of course.”

Humphrey sprawled on the sofa, his colossal frame taking up half the space. “Going after this bastard before he comes afterher, young pup, if you’re not getting the strategy.”

“The duke’s ball.” Simon rotated the button between his fingers. “We could try and draw him out there. Of course, we’ll all be in attendance.”

Julian smiled, and with his index finger, nudged his sketchpad back into drawing range. “We’ll secure protection that will shame Buckingham Palace’s. Ashcroft can make it a fortress without a single soul attending having any idea.”

Finn grazed his fingers across his brow in a lazy salute. “Count me in.”