Chapter Twenty-seven
Before leaving the next morning, Quinn stared down at Allison as she slept soundly in the big bed. His heart swelled with tenderness at this stolen glimpse of her. Her silky blond hair spread out across the pillows, her face relaxed and angelic. He’d never held a woman in his arms throughout a whole night, but it had been wonderful.
In fact, he’d hardly slept at all. Though he’d been exhausted, he’d just wanted to appreciate the moment, smell her hair, feel her warmth against him.
This all seemed too good to be true. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this might all be taken from him, that he didn’t deserve it.
Pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead, he reluctantly left her sleeping and made his way downstairs. As he went, he looked around a bit, still in shock that this might be his house. The place still smelled of new wood, everything designed in such a way that he could see himself raising a family here with Allison.
Did he truly only have to agree to make it so? Was he a fool to protest this change in circumstance? Why on earth would he insist on staying in Bethnal Green when all of this could be his?
Shaking his head, he let himself out, locking the door behind him and then looking around the quiet suburban street. It didn’t seem like he was even on the same planet as where he lived and worked.
Getting to work took him nearly an hour, though, and that wasn’t a jaunt he’d be interested in making every day. Could they find a place closer to Bethnal Green but yet as safe and nice as Belgravia?
With a sigh, he went into the station. Tonight was the night he and Ness were going to the Viper Club’s party. He had a lot to do to get ready.
* * *
THE HOUSE WHERE THE members of the Viper Club had chosen to have their decadent party was an unassuming row house in a neighborhood that had seen better days. Quinn and Ness had arrived well before the party and scouted the building out, noting all the entrances and exits and then watching from afar as the guests arrived, making notes and identifying those they could.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long to figure out that neither of them was dressed well enough to enter, even with masks hiding their features. Their off-the-rack clothes would be a dead giveaway that they didn’t belong.
About nine-thirty, a gentleman approached the house on foot from the south. His path took him right by Quinn and Ness’s hiding place. They both stilled, trying to get a good look at the man, but when he got close, they realized he was already wearing a mask. Something about him made Quinn certain that he’d come here tonight with dark intentions.
In fact, a shiver went down Quinn’s spine when he saw how similar this man’s mask was to the one that the masked vigilante Prometheus wore while rescuing children from houses of prostitution and taking them to Brookhaven, where they’d be safe. Quinn had always suspected that Prometheus was one of Allison’s brothers, though he’d never been quite clear which one of them. In fact, he’d sometimes wondered if they were all Prometheus.
The last thing he wanted was to find out that one of the Strathmores was involved in something as seedy as this, but the man’s build didn’t seem right. This man was slim and lanky, while Allison’s brothers were all far more muscular.
Right when it seemed that the masked man would pass without noticing them, he suddenly looked up and met Quinn’s eyes. Their gazes locked for half a second, and Quinn could tell the man somehow recognized him.
With a low, muttered curse, the man turned and dashed back the way he’d come.
“Get him!” Quinn cried, and he and Ness both tore off after him.
Quinn had no idea who they were chasing or why the man was running, but the masked man obviously had something to hide, which had to mean something.
The bastard was faster than he’d looked as he’d languorously approached with his silver walking cane. He held it high now, using it as a weapon to shove people out of his way as he turned onto a crowded street lined with pubs and music halls. He’d only gotten a few seconds’ head start, but he was pulling away from both Quinn and Ness, though neither of them was out of shape.
Panting, Quinn increased his pace, giving it all he had, but up ahead, he saw the man jump into a coach that he must have left waiting for him. The masked man shouted for the coachman to drive, and the vehicle accelerated sharply as the coachman whipped the horses to a start.
As Quinn reached the back of the coach, he could feel Ness hot on his heels. Cursing, Quinn threw himself forward, jumping toward the platform where a footman would stand. His entire body jarred as he landed, and he scrambled to hang on, wrapping his hand around the leather strap hanging from the roof.
He hadn’t yet gotten his balance when the masked man opened the door and swung around the side of the coach, his fist connecting with Quinn’s face. Pain exploded through Quinn’s head, and his hand slipped from the strap.
Swaying, he tried to maintain his balance on the platform, but the coach was still jostling, and his head was ringing. Before he could gain his bearings, the bastard shoved him, and he felt himself falling just before everything went black.
* * *
WHEN QUINN CAME TO, Ness was sitting beside him, looking worried, and Quinn realized he was at home in his own bed. What the hell had happened? The last thing he remembered was jumping on the back of the masked man’s coach.
He winced as he realized that nearly everything hurt. “Bloody hell,” he groaned, pressing his hand to his jaw, which throbbed from the hit he’d taken.
“Take it easy,” Ness told him. “You were out for a few hours.”
“A few hours? Did that bastard get away?” Quinn asked, even though he already knew the answer.
Ness nodded grimly. “I chased him for half a block, but they were just going too fast, and I was worried about you.”