Chapter 11

The day had come for Regulus to take the portal to Hightower. I trained my attention on the clock and the driveway outside the garage window. Everything was ready. The brick wall anchored our end of the portal, and a curtain veiled the shimmering surface of shadows. My cousins waited in their watchmen uniforms. We had laid our guns and equipment laid out on Esme's workbenches, cleaned and replenished with plenty of ammo.

All we needed was the sleezy Mirth descendant who, to my reluctance, held the fate of my wife in his dirty hands.

"Where the hells is he? He needs to meet the garrison before they head to the docks. If he's going to make it in time, he'll need to show up in—"

"Looking for me?"

I turned to find a mountain of a man standing in the doorway, twisting his mustache between two thick fingers. My cousins jumped to their feet with their pistols cocked.

"Who the hells are you?" Gideon demanded.

The watchman held up both hands, grinning ear to ear. "Commander Angelo Marden, at your service, Mr. Attano."

"Shitting Saints, Regulus." Luther sighed. "You can't show up here disguised like that."

"Right, because a member of the Watch would just tarry into the backyard of the most dangerous men in the city." Regulus rolled his brown eyes. "I just came by to pick up the portal. Nico said it was done."

"Why the fuck would you choose to impersonate a commander?" My strides ate the distance between us. "The entire ploy depends on you getting to Hightower without arousing suspicion, and you're playing the big man instead of an unimportant recruit. Are you an idiot or just that selfish?"

His smug smile fell. "I don't like your tone, Attano. This all depends on me, remember? I might be a little nicer to the one who's risking his ass to make this happen." Regulus's demeanor shifted to something more hostile. In the commander's skin, adding a few inches to his stature, he was more intimidating than usual. "I chose the commander so no one would give me shit. I've been pretending to be a fucking wash boy for the guard for the past week just to get his fancy pins, for shitting saints. You think I didn't think this through?"

"It doesn't matter what I think, does it?" I muttered. "There's no time now to change your identity. I trust you at least cleaned up after yourself?"

Regulus nodded with a locked jaw. "He won't be a problem. Now or later."

He looked me up and down, arching a brow at my own uniform. Narcissa had sent a trunk of old watchmen robes she acquired from the lost and found in her brothel. The courtesans had snatched articles while their patrons were otherwise occupied, playing foolish when they couldn't find their missing robes afterward.

"Where is it?" Regulus asked.

Esme approached from behind, the ring in her hand. Bree was at her side, ready to explain the disguised portal. She plucked it from Esme's outstretched hand and held it up for Regulus to see clearly.

"The shadows are trapped in here. The crystal is loosely fitted and easily twisted, just give it a spin to stimulate them. Once that's done, the portal will hit the back of the ruby and project a larger face on whatever you shine it on. A wall would be best or some other flat surface."

She lowered the ring to the space between them. The ruby sat high in the center on a setting Esme had fashioned. Beneath it, shadows swirled in a transparent crystal loosely trapped between the golden prongs.

Esme added, "Until then, keep it concealed."

"A little gaudy for my tastes, but I'll wear it." Regulus pulled off his glove. He slipped it on his pinky, the only finger that would fit. "When you asked for my ring size, I probably should have given you Angelo's hand."

My cousin rubbed her temples. "That would have been ideal."

"I'll drive you to the station," I said on my way to the door.

"Not necessary, Mr. Attano, I—"

"I wasn't being polite," I shouted, already outside. My boots crunched against the ice filming the lawn as I motioned the stable hand to ready the carriage. "Get in the damn car. We need to talk."

Regulus wassilent until we pulled onto the main street. Before he could open his mouth, I asked, "What do want from me?"

He arched a thick brow. "What are you talking about?"

I tamed my nerves with a large breath. My heart felt frayed, worn from worry, of getting this all wrong. The closer the time came to rescue Milla, the less control I had over my temper.

"What can I give you to make sure you don't run last minute or turn on me later? I don't trust you, Regulus. You've always operated under the motivation of your best interest. What do you want from all of this?"

He had too willfully offered his assistance. Just because I worked with him in the past, didn't mean he was a friend. I still didn't know how the Summoner found him, or how much she'd told him about the inspector. He was damn good at what he did. His shift was flawless, from what I could tell. Regulus was valuable. He had to know that.

He pulled a cigarillo from a tin box and lit it. "Perhaps you aren't the only bastard the OIC has burned, alright? My services might be expensive, but you covered the costs. Now, I get something money can't buy."

"What is that?"

He took a hit before replying, blazing the tip of the cigarillo orange. "The Mirth community is small, but very close. When we heard one of our own was caught up with the Marcheses and the Firenzes, and subsequently had gone missing, we figured she was another victim of the Collector."

Understanding slipped through me like a cold draft. He knew Sera. He was going there for Sera, and she was long dead in my family's graveyard.

The unease in my chest worsened. "Don't let your vengeance distract you, I need you focused in Hightower."

He swatted the air like it was a ridiculous thought. "I'll get you in, Attano. That's my job, right?"

I didn't even mention the ring, didn't want to give him any idea of its importance to me. I'd cut it off his cold, dead fingers if he gave me any grief about it later. "Right. I'll bring you to the tracks. Cross the viaduct on foot. Narcissa said she'll have a driver waiting for you to bring you to the docks. They know her carriages and reckon you're heading to the island a satisfied commander."

"Wish that were true," he murmured.

I scoffed. "Likewise."

His stare turned curious. "She's there, too. Isn't she? Camilla."

No use lying now. He would see for himself either way. "Yes."

A barking laugh burst through the carriage, making me wince. His smile slowly faded. "But... I went to her funeral." Dark eyes shifted to look at me. "She was there, in the casket."

I licked my lips, beginning to regret this drive. "It wasn't Camilla in the casket. It was her friend. Her very good friend who died for her, to protect a secret about Camilla." My gaze never fell from his, ensuring what he obviously already suspected. "Her name was Sera. I'm assuming you knew her."

Regulus's shoulders slacked against the seat. His posture deflated, slouching. He didn't speak until the carriage rolled to a stop where the road came to a dead end near the river, where the viaduct that crossed it stood in the distance, hidden halfway in the fog.

"You fucking Attanos are the worst people on the Isle. You call me selfish." He scoffed. "But you'll use anyone to get what you want. To keep your pockets and your cock happy."

"Regulus—"

He slid down the seat and threw the door open. "I'll get you in Hightower. After this, don't ask me for anything, ever again."

We waited.

All eyes rested on the mirror. Hours passed, and it took everything in me to sit down, to conserve my energy. I burned a cigarillo despite Esme's sideways glance, needing a distraction before I paced a trench across her garage.

"I thought we couldn't smoke?" A Marchese son broke the quiet. I shot him a glare.

"Nico is an exception." Esme sighed.

Solomon stood by Gideon and Adler, discussing something quietly with his sons. I watched their lips, read the words he spoke in a hushed voice. My uncle clamped his hand over his son's shoulder, told him how much he loved him, told him to get in and out, to come home. I looked away, feeling ashamed. Something burned in my eyes as my gaze returned to the mirror.

Solomon's cane tapped the concrete floor as he approached my seat. "Is this everyone?" When I confirmed his question, he sighed. "I wish you would have taken more men."

"More men would require more disguises. Once we break out the prisoners, we'll have all the men we need." It was a two-to-one guard to prisoner ratio. I liked those odds, but my information could be skewed if Milla's presence had drawn more guards than usual. I hoped that Regulus would overhear more information about this transferal happening on the island, and why Milla was the subject of it, before he found a quiet place to sneak us in.

It was my cousins, a handful of the best benders in the city, and Finn, the mentalus. Sabina offered her wearhs, but I denied them. Too many people knew about this plan to begin with, and with their recent involvement with the Firenzes, I'd never fully trust a single bleeder ever again.

"Nico," he said, voice low. "I want to tell you something."

"Yes?"

He shuffled, leaning closer to speak over my shoulder. "Please be careful. I know Milla needs you, but so does your family. Don't do anything overly reckless, alright?"

"Uncle, you think everything I do is reckless." I meant the words to sound lighthearted, though they just came out bitter.

He released a quiet sigh, and the disappointment in his breath made me regret my tone. "That's not true. I just... I just want you to value your life as much as you value everyone else's. I want you to come home. Your father—"

The mirror came to life, then. I stood, startled into action by the colorless haze surrounding the wooden frame.

"Hells," Adler murmured. "It actually worked."

"Of course it works," Bree snapped. "The problem isn't getting there, it's getting back. The portal won't be able to hold all the prisoners you want to free. It's not for bulk transportation."

Aramis adjusted the hood of his black robes over his head. "We'll find our way back fine. Just make sure the Iron Saint is parked at the docks."

"Marcus knows. He's well aware of the route," I told him. "Is everyone ready, then?"

Gideon stepped forward with a smile, hiding any reservation of this plan behind nerves of steel. He might have been the kindest cousin out of all of them, but he was also the most determined. Nothing was hard enough, cruel enough, to make him hesitate. "Lead the way, cousin. No more time to waste."

After weeks of planning and plotting, of careful collaborations and deals with demons, it was time.

Saints, it felt good to finally do something. I would bring Milla home, or I wouldn't come back at all. Either way, I wouldn't spend another day without her. The thought alone was enough to lift something heavy off my shoulders, permit me to take a full breath again. Let me return the smile my cousin knowingly sent me.

My fingers shook as I pulled a glove over my false hand, concealing it before facing the mirror. Luther stood beside me, and the shadows accepted my form, slipping around the arm I reached into the silver-foiled face.

"Let's go get your lady, boss."