Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

S omething was wrong.

Fleur didn't know how she could sense it but when Drake hadn't arrived home by two in the morning, she decided she needed to gather some reinforcements.

Most of the servants returned to their respective lodgings for the evening since Drake wasn't a conventional master. However, Amos was the exception since Drake wanted someone to watch over her in his absence in case there was trouble.

Still dressed, Fleur headed down to the study to see if she might find Amos there. Thankfully, he was kicked back in Drake's chair. He had his feet propped up and it appeared as though he was sleeping but the moment her feet crossed the threshold, he turned to her. She didn't have to say anything before he was on his feet.

"Thank God. I thought I was the only one who didn't have a good feeling about this night."

Her stomach clenched. "Do you think something has happened too?"

"Aye. It's not like Drake to spend any more time with Avalon than necessary."

He started to move toward the door. She was directly on his heels. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm going to check on things while you stay here?—"

"Absolutely not!" Fleur rushed in front of him and blocked his way, although the massive man could have easily pushed her aside. She shoved a finger in his chest. "I tried it Drake's way and this is what happened. I will not stand by idle again. I know how to wield a sword if needed and I still have the shroud to conceal my identity. I'm going ."

He must have decided it was easier to give in than to deal with a hysterical woman, so he said curtly, "Get dressed and meet me back here in five minutes."

"Four," she countered as she rushed up the stairs.

She threw open the chamber door and yanked open the drawer where the dreaded shroud was. She had hoped to never don the miserable garment again but she would do whatever it took to ensure Drake's safety and that of her brother. They were the two most important men in her life and the thought she might lose either one of them was not pleasant. While she was still uneasy about the conversation she'd heard earlier that morning between Amos and Drake, she had to believe that they weren't unnecessarily targeting Flavian, that they would give him a chance to redeem himself. Although he'd had several chances to do so, she'd always believed that he would come to his senses.

She made it back downstairs to the foyer at the same moment Amos appeared with two pistols and a saber. The latter he handed to her. "Let's see if we can't put your skills to the test."

She nodded curtly. If there was one thing she knew how to use with precision, it was a sword. She'd fought more than one duel under the guise of her brother and survived. Surely that was a testament of her abilities.

Fleur followed Amos outside and rather than rely on public transport, they headed toward the East End on foot. "I can't believe Drake did something so asinine. He should have known he would be in danger."

Amos gave a rusty chuckle. "Drake has always been a man who lived life on his own terms. He likely didn't think he would encounter any trouble from Avalon tonight. He is usually better prepared for any situation."

"Until tonight," Fleur grumbled irritably. "If he's not dead I might just kill him myself."

She didn't receive a reply, but she wasn't surprised. She hadn't really expected one.

They continued their trek through the dark alleyways of London that had caused a shiver to trail up her spine the night she'd traversed these same dank streets with Drake. Tonight, she ignored the refuse and staggering vermin that inhabited the East End, her mind focused on getting to Drake and learning his fate. And hopefully, that of her brother as well.

She was thankful that it wasn't the same pub they entered this night but it didn't hold much more favor as they made their way inside. The patrons barely spared Amos a glance, although they seemed a bit more curious about the covered figure that entered with him. Some blatantly stared, while others tried to be a bit more covert in their perusal.

Heading to the barkeep, Amos inquired after Avalon. He received a crisp reply that the man was out for the evening.

Fleur could tell that the man was lying and it was evident that Amos believed the same when he reached across the bar and gathered the man by his cravat. Tightening it into a noose, he demanded in a low tone, "Let's try that answer again."

As two men shoved their chairs back and started to approach the bar, Fleur swiftly moved to protect Amos. Whipping up the saber as the first man approached, she nearly nicked his neck. This caused him to rethink his strategy as he held up his hands in surrender, although she could see his mind was calculating his odds should he decide to press forward.

"What is all this?"

Immediately, the charged atmosphere in the pub was sucked out, the earlier commotion inside making way for silence.

Behind her mask, Fleur could make out the visage of Avalon. She recalled the dark hair and smug countenance quite well.

Amos released the barkeep and faced the leader of the Blue Boys, most of which Fleur decided were standing and eager to come to Avalon's aid. It made Fleur more infuriated than before. If her brother and Drake could waltz into the lion's den, it was no wonder something dreadful might have befallen either of them. This was no place to come alone. She was terrified being there with just Amos.

"I'm looking for Porter," Amos announced firmly.

Avalon flicked a glance at him and then his attention fixated on her. "Such intrigue you've brought to my front step." His jaw hardened. "I don't care for mysteries."

Fleur decided she'd had enough. Whipping the hood from her head, she kept her firm hold on her saber. "Is that better?" she retorted.

The grin he offered was enough to tell her he approved. "Naturally. It would be a shame to cover such a lovely face." He waved a hand toward the back of the pub. "Shall we speak in private?"

She glared at the men who had decided to back off. However, she didn't lower the sword until she was a safe distance away from them.

She moved toward Avalon but when Amos would have followed her, Avalon held out a hand. "Just the lady."

Amos clenched his fists.

"No harm will come to her."

Fleur wasn't sure Amos was content to let her go without him, but something must have passed between the two men. Honor among thieves perhaps. Either way, Amos narrowed his eyes and said, "Fifteen minutes."

"That is plenty of time."

Avalon waited for her and as Fleur cast one last look over her shoulder at Amos, she disappeared into the true lion's den.

As he started to shut the door behind them, she said, "I would rather it stay open."

He paused. Lifting a slight brow, he smiled. "As you like." He remained where he was and looked at the sword in her grasp. "So long as you promise not to run me through with that thing."

"I won't, as long as you don't give me a reason to do so."

He chuckled. "I knew there was spirit about you when we first met. It is why I approached Porter with a proposition this evening that he didn't care to accept. Maybe you will be more amenable to the idea."

Fleur stilled. "If Drake was here, then where is he now?"

"In that regard, I fear I cannot answer."

Somehow, she didn't think that was true. And since she was intrigued by his supposed proposition, she decided to humor him for the moment. "Very well. She sheathed the sword in her belt and crossed her arms in front of her. "What is your grand idea?"

His lips quirked, and then he became all seriousness. "I want you as my mistress."

Fleur blinked. Drake had told her that Avalon had found her agreeable but she never imagined he would dare take it so far. "I see." She acted as though she were mulling the prospect over in her mind. "I fear I must decline your generous offer, sir, as I am quite taken with Mr. Porter."

He exhaled heavily. "That is quite regrettable. If you agreed, I was going to sweeten the deal by forgiving your brother's debt to me."

Suddenly, the blood turned to ice in Fleur's veins. She straightened and took a step toward him. "How much does he owe you?"

Avalon attempted to appear contrite, but Fleur could easily see through his guise. "Twelve hundred pounds."

She closed her eyes. It was a staggering sum. Double what he had lost to Drake. With her gaze focused back on the man, she asked, "What if I was able to clear his debt?"

"You mean from Porter's generosity?" He shook his head. "I fear his funds are about to run short. After the deal he made with Harriette, his circumstances are bound to falter."

Fleur clenched her fists at her hands. She knew she was courting trouble by daring to ask the question but she couldn't stop herself if she'd tried. "What are you talking about?"

He blinked, as if surprised. Another ploy, she was sure of it. "You didn't know they had met in secret to discuss another five thousand quid for you?" A strange buzzing began in Fleur's ears that threatened to eclipse the rest of the other man's words. "I didn't realize Porter kept such significant secrets from you." He released a slow breath. "I shouldn't like to be the bearer of bad news, but I heard it from Miss Wilson herself."

"For what purpose?" Fleur asked. "That sort of money doesn't get thrown about without good reason."

"Harriette wanted to ensure your safety, of course. She was regretful with how things went on at the auction and begged Porter to release you from his hold. She knew that his reputation would eventually sully him and she didn't want you to get caught in his snare. It was why she sent Flavian with me that night." He hung his head. "Unfortunately, after the game, he fled. No doubt he feared Porter's retribution. Everyone in the pub heard Porter threaten him."

Fleur was finding it difficult to draw a full breath. "Are you saying that my brother is… missing?"

"I'm afraid so. And now it appears that Porter is as well."

She shook her head. Drawing out the sword, she held it in front of her while Avalon's face blurred in her vision. "You're lying. Drake wouldn't hurt my brother because he knew it would hurt me."

Avalon's face looked empathetic. She hated him for it. "You forget the sort of man that Porter was, that he still is. You're blinded by your love for him while he's used you most ill." He held out his hand to her and cajoled, "Hand me the weapon and I will ensure that you don't have to endure this sort of misery anymore. You will be well cared for under my protection."

Fleur looked at his hand as if he were offering her a poisonous apple. The hand holding the sword trembled, and she despised any show of weakness when she told herself to remain strong and courageous. Something told her that if her brother and Porter were missing it was due to this man.

Making a decision and trusting in her love for Drake, she took a step forward and sliced the sword through the air, making a neat cut through Avalon's outstretched palm. "I don't need anyone's protection. I have my own."

As he uttered a howl of pain, she turned and started to run back toward the main room to find Amos.

She never made it.

* * *

Drake groaned. His skull was splitting and he had the sensation that he was floating. Perhaps he was dead, but then, why the hell did his wrists ache?

When he opened his eyes, he realized that it wasn't a dream but a harsh reality. His arms were bound above his head by a coarse rope and he was dangling a short distance from the floor. It caused him to swing lightly in the air.

He struggled to gain focus and it appeared that he was in a large building, that might have once been a prominent warehouse, but was now devoid of most anything that might have been useful. He looked up and could see the early rays of dawn drifting in through the holes in the open roof. He supposed he could call for help but that usually didn't work. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time he'd been in this sort of bind, quite literally, so he knew he just had to wait for the opportune moment to escape.

Hearing another groan, he glanced to his left as best as he could and spied Devon's bloody face. It appeared that Amos's son was in dire straits as well. He intended to find out what he'd done to gain such animosity, but for now, he had to concentrate on getting them out of there.

He was too far away to kick to gain his attention but he did call out his name.

His limp head lifted slightly and he peered at Drake through slitted eyes. "Porter?" he rasped. "What are you… doing here?"

It was probably one of the most idiotic questions that Drake had ever heard. "Oh, you know. Just hanging around." When Devon blinked, as if not quite getting the joke, he snapped irritably, "It appears that we've been captured."

"Oh." Devon looked around, as if just now coming to his senses. "Indeed. I would say so."

Drake forced himself not to sigh. Instead, he said, "Do you have a knife or anything on you?"

He appeared to consider the query. "I don't think so."

"That's fine, because I do. As you know, I'm not unfamiliar with these situations."

"I didn't realize you've been kidnapped before," Devon drawled, sounding more like his father every day.

Drake snorted. "Kidnapped sounds so infantile. I prefer to say I was seized or something that sounds a bit more heroic."

"I see."

Drake wasn't sure that he did, but neither did he care at the moment. Drake had gone to hell and back more than once during this life. If they managed to get out of this scrape without much more injury, he would consider it a victory and he would make sure that Amos steered Devon in a different direction. It might take a bit of hard work to persevere, having grown up in the underground as Drake had, but he was convinced he could live a better life than his father. Drake wished someone had given him that sort of advice when he'd been that age. Perhaps if they had, he wouldn't have lived with such bitterness and angst for so long.

And yet…

He wouldn't have known how to slip out of a knot that was meant to hold him firmly.

Drake was about to demonstrate his skills when a door opened and footsteps started to draw closer. He whispered urgently to Devon, "Act as if you are still unconscious."

Drake was grateful when Devon's head dropped back down to his chest and his eyes closed. He mimicked the same reaction moments later just as he heard a snide, masculine voice say, "Turns out Porter isn't that tough after all."

"The great criminal of the underground subdued by an empty whisky bottle," his cohort chuckled.

Drake ran through the catalog of people in his mind but he couldn't place these two men. More than likely they were from the East End and were eager to gain some blunt and notoriety for bringing down Drake Porter.

It was almost enough for him to laugh. He decided that would have to wait until he was facing off with them firmly on the ground.

"I guess our work here is done," the first man said with a bored sigh. "I want another ale."

As they shuffled back out the door, Drake waited until the door had shut fully behind them and silence had resounded about them once again before he dared to crack open an eye and ensure that they were alone again.

He didn't waste any time in wriggling his wrists back and forth to loosen the bonds. It didn't take long before they started to fall slack. When they did, he used the force of his weight to kick downward and force the rope to stretch even further apart. The moment he felt the bindings give way; he landed on the floor in a neat crouch.

He turned to Devon who was watching him with a crooked smile. Drake tilted his head to the side and said, "Don't move." He reached into his boot and removed a knife. Moving back a few paces, he took a running start and then flipped upward, drawing out the blade at the exact moment he reached the rope holding Devon in place. He fell to the ground, landing perfectly on his feet.

Returning his knife to where it had been, Devon finished untying his bonds and tossed the ruined rope aside. At the same time, he glanced up and spied a shadow moving along the farther end of the warehouse. "Someone's here. We have to move quickly."

They were too late.

A large explosion sent the warehouse up in flames. Drake and Devon both fell to the ground as debris rained down all around them as the building starting to groan from the sudden burst of heat and flame.

Once he'd recovered his faculties, Drake grabbed hold of Devon's arm and pulled him toward the door. "Run!"

The damaged structure started to collapse in on itself as they burst outside. Drake was glad that his earlier instincts were correct and they were near the Thames. As another explosion sent heat searing into his back, they hurled themselves into the river.