Chapter Twenty

The Tower Bridge was one of Rebel’s favorite places in London, with its spiking towers reflecting off the surface of the river like horns of some great beast. The first time she’d glided across the bridge’s upper walkway as a child, she almost believed she might fly. Wished she could. She’d marveled at how high up she’d been without ever touching the clouds. Even if she couldn’t dip her fingers in their fluffiness, she’d watch the birds soar, wishing she could follow as the wind sang its sweet song, beckoning her up into the ether.

Tonight, however, the song was spiteful.

The winter’s frozen saliva slapped across Rebel’s face, scattering snow flurries like needles in her eyes. The wind flapped a few stubborn hairs into Anjeline’s face, and icy flakes clung to her own lashes before melting from her heat. Moonlight glinted off the water as they ambled behind Jaxon, walking along the embankment of the Thames River, the mile-long path covering the drainage system to their destination. The bridge seemed to increase in size as they approached, the lights from the Tower of London illuminating it in a halo, the points extending up into eternity.

In the distance, a church bell chimed.

The crowd around the bridge had thinned of tourists and a mist clung to the night where they seemed to be walking inside of a cloud. Rebel ran the back of her hand under her freezing nose as they came to the bridge’s base. “Explain to me again why these traders stash down here?” Her voice echoed, mixing with the shush of the river.

“Why not?” Jaxon replied. “It’s hidden. It’s by the river, with easy access to traders bringing their bounty in from the ports.”

More flurries came in off the river and Rebel shivered, but the heat of Anjeline’s closeness scared it away. “And what makes you believe these traders have anything to do with magic?” she added.

“Several times I heard them speak terrible things about a Night Guard. Plus, they’re highly superstitious and wary of outsiders.” Jaxon shined the flashlight around, steering them to the flagstone steps, leading toward the lower tunnels underneath the bridge. The leering gargoyles set into the bridge gave Rebel the creeps as they went downward, until the sounds of the river grew louder, and the air colder.

Without a word, Anjeline glanced at Rebel sideways and took her arm hostage, walking close enough so her heat encircled them. “I disagree with this plan,” she finally voiced, her hot breath misting in the air.

Jaxon peered over his shoulder. “What don’t you like, jinni?”

She squinted at him. “Foxes. Nor do I like your vagueness about these people you’re pawning us off to.”

Rebel turned, nearly bumping into Anjeline’s face, and looked at her in the gleam of the light. Her eyes were fevered, radiant with something Rebel knew was concern. “It’s one of the rules,” she told her. “Secrets are what keep you safe.”

“They’re also what bury you,” Anjeline said.

Can’t argue with that. Rebel glanced at him. “How safe are these people?”

“So safe they don’t even walk the streets.” Jaxon offered a grin, stepping them farther down the tunnels. His coat rippled, dark and tail-like in the breeze.

Something felt odd about all of this. Still, Rebel trusted him enough to follow him into God knew where. If they’d stayed unsheltered any longer, it would be a matter of time before some magician or wolf sniffed them out, but how these people could lead her to an answer for Anjeline—if they could—she had no idea.

The deeper they went, the thicker the river’s aroma hung in the air and the tunnel stones sloshed with wetness underfoot. A rat scurried across their path and paused before staring up at Anjeline. Bending down, she reached out and the rat stepped into her palm. She held it respectively in front of her face as it chattered at her. With a nod, Anjeline wrinkled her nose like a rat and voiced, “They say we shouldn’t be here.”

Rebel looked at the rat. The rat looked back at her. “Why not?”

“The same reason people don’t want rats in their habitat.” Jaxon waved it off.

The rat made a rude sound and skittered away. They reached another set of stone stairs leading down, covered in river water. Decades of mold mixed alongside a shimmer of fish bones and scales. Rebel’s boots splashed through some kind of slime congealed on the floor, brimming with fish scales. It seeped through the cracks in her boots, freezing her toes and making squishing sounds with each step. “Jax, I’m hating you right now.”

“Watch yourself, love,” he said. “The slime is thick.”

The slime wasn’t anything like Rebel had ever seen in nature. Regardless, she scoffed at it. “Please, I’m the Fingersmith, born with magical hands and feet—”

Her boot slid on a patch of muck and her body went flying forward in a slow elongated moment. She reached out, grabbing onto the wall. Chips of stones gave way and she tumbled down. A mere second later, she hit the end, shoulders slammed against stone but something gripped onto Rebel’s head, softening the blow.

Then that something, or someone, landed on top of her.

A hip banged against hers, accompanied by a head, a groan, and then heat. Arms and legs entwined with hers in a parody of affection, locked in an embrace. Rebel inhaled against the silky veil of hair blanketing her face. “You hit my forehead,” Anjeline mumbled, so close Rebel felt hot breath on her cheek.

“You’re smothering me with hair.” Rebel blew it out of her mouth.

“He said watch your step. You’re too stubborn to listen.”

“You could have let go of my arm.”

“You didn’t leave me much choice. You would have cracked your skull if I hadn’t.” Anjeline removed her unmarked hand from the back of Rebel’s head, which had been cupping it like a shield.

“That was…sweet,” Rebel said and saw a deep concern on Anjeline’s face for her well-being. Her pulse thrummed in her ears as adrenalin rushed through her veins. She felt a stronger tingling up and down her body and then…“Is that your hand on my thigh?”

Anjeline cocked her head. “Is that yours on mine?”

Jaxon snickered and stepped over them. “If you two are done groping, shall we continue?”

In a swift movement, Anjeline stood, though mumbling something that sounded positively profane. With the help of Jaxon, Rebel rolled to her feet, brushing off the slime, and ignored her insides whiffling. He ushered them into a larger tunnel passage, where the river water began to rise above mid-shoe level and the stench of chum grew overwhelming. Rebel was sure she’d smell for days after this.

Jaxon’s flashlight glinted off more garbage. Drifting on the water’s surface were clumps of slime, plastic bottles, a baby carriage, and fragments of animal carcasses, which increased the farther they went, until the walls were covered in overgrown moss and the river darkened.

Soon, light filtered into the tunnel, flaming from torches set into wall niches, which seemed rather unconventional. The deeper they went, the river cast a blue light upon the ceiling and reflected back on the surface, looking as if the water itself was glowing. At last they reached an opening where other passageways led off and the floor sloped downward. Loose stones and crumbling cement bordered an underground pool of water.

Jaxon stopped and pulled a glistening conch shell from his coat. He put it to his lips and blew. The conch’s cry echoed through the tunnels, getting lost and then reverting off the stone walls back at them.

“Jax…” Rebel began to ask.

He put up a hand, silencing her. After several seconds, ripples emerged along the surface of the circular pool. Wavelets upon wavelets came, merging together and growing.

“What is that?” Rebel stepped back, knocking into Anjeline, who gripped her arm tight enough to bruise.

“Rebel,” she whispered. “We should leave.”

Jaxon stared at the water as the ripples increased, forming pockets of air bubbles. Instinct screamed at Rebel to depart, to retreat to the Freebooters, to be anywhere but here. But she couldn’t pry her eyes from the water, from the figures moving under the murky darkness. Like fish. Like dolphins. Large figures with fins and tails.

And hair?

All at once, the water parted and several waves rose up, then splashed down against the surface. Figures emerged, rising above like magnificent statues, slowly gathering shape and color as they did. Their forms so different it was hard to fathom. Hair the tint of seaweed. Ashen skin. Fingers connected with weblike film. Human from the navel up and fish from the navel down. As they rose out of the water, they lifted onto their tails with a serpent gracefulness, alluring and terrifying. The mythical inhabitants of the sea.

“Mermaids,” Anjeline voiced.

“How?” Rebel looked to Jaxon, not grasping what was happening or why he had never spoken of them before. “You knew…” She shook her head, wondering why he hadn’t believed her about Anjeline if he’d conversed with creatures like this.

He didn’t look at her. “Some mermaids are virtuous, some are vengeful, but the Siren guarantees a hefty price,” he said, making little sense.

The merfolk assembled along the slippery edge. A figure adorned in a headdress of seaweed approached. The Siren. Her tail sloshed against the water like an irritated cat, her scales of opalescent shimmered from the torchlight, and her hair streamed behind her into a tangled cloak.

The Siren lifted her lips over her teeth and spread her webbed hands out before her. “Fox, you’ve brought a prize?” she hissed like the shushing of the river.

Jaxon bowed. “Come to pay my debt and collect the reward.”

Rebel’s eyes narrowed. “Your debt?”

“What you’ve been searching for.” He gestured to Anjeline. “The Wishmaker.”

The Siren’s tail coiled around and around, propelling her forward so quickly, she startled them. “Fox, your debt is now fulfilled. But for that, you gain only half of the recompense,” she said and gave a nod to a merman. The merman produced a hefty bag, overflowing with what looked to be precious metal coins, and handed it to Jaxon.

“Promise you won’t hurt them,” he said to the Siren.

Realization hit the pit of Rebel’s stomach.

“Knew something was off about you.” Anjeline glared at him. “You’re Sidhe.”

Rebel’s muscles froze in a rictus of pain. Dawning surfaced as she stared at Jaxon, as all the years of trust evaporated in a single moment. “You tricked me.”

For a split second, Jaxon’s mask slipped with a rush of regret. His eyes flashed even more foxlike than ever before. “Sorry, love. This wasn’t the plan. If you had just accepted my offer, we could have been right as partners. We could have found a way around this, but I had no choice. The beasties need me… I’m their survival.”

Her heart felt like a stone plummeting to the bottom of the river. He’d stabbed thugs in the back before, but this was the first time she stood on the other side of the blade. Tears formed in her eyes, nothing left but gloom and betrayal. All she could do was stare at him numbly. It seemed impossible he’d done this to her. She’d been so focused on the danger from beyond, she hadn’t seen the betrayal from within.

“When I’ve made enough, I’ll come for you,” Jaxon said.

If he could leave her like this, he wouldn’t be returning. He turned and didn’t look back at her or Anjeline as he left the tunnel. Didn’t look as the mermaids pulled a rope, or when a net flung out, surrounding them.