Den of Shadows Collection: Lose yourself in the fantasy, mystery, and intrigue of this stand out trilogy. Christopher ByfordЧитать онлайн книгу.
he would be the only one to have access – as much for everyone else’s protection as his own. Nobody would be tempted to take something they shouldn’t and as a result, he wouldn’t have to wildly speculate as to the culprit and sow discord among the ranks.
Misu, however, didn’t see things quite like this. As she was tasked with maintaining order among the showgirls, her role was quite considerable and weighty with responsibilities. She could assist in deciding where they were to visit next. In fact it was her numerous contacts that they used to send the invitation banner to whichever location was decided on. So it was unfathomable that she was denied the ability to put away a little money. It was an insult, nothing more.
‘Nobody opens the safe but me. We’ve been through this before. Don’t take it personally.’
He knew it was difficult not to. He moved on past and held the door open for her to leave the carriage. She did so after a scrutinizing glare.
The pair walked the length of the carriages, ensuring everything was ready for pulling off. They began with the end lounge car, which had been a point of congregation for smokers. Cherry-red wood was lacquered into a deep crimson, with every panel adorned with carvings, telling stories long forgotten by craftsmen now dead. Teardrops of glass from the mounted chandeliers were impeccably bright, their dusting not overlooked.
Bookcases and shelving were already cladded with lattices to prevent anything moving in transit. The billiard table had been secured in its place by fastening bolts and the accompanying stock of balls had been put away. Everything looked in good order, checked with the occasional test of strength or run of a fingertip.
They moved through to the boxcar, which shunned decadence for practicality, strictly off limits to all but staff. Provisions, packed into shabby crates, were stacked high to its roof. The tables and chairs had been disassembled and wall-mounted, secured with ties.
The other cars, lounge ones mostly, which accommodated plenty of attendees yet showed no sign of tarnish. Seats ran in formation at a slight angle, facing wide windows that swallowed views whole. Even so, surfaces were polished, carpets swept, and windows cleaned. As Misu and Franco advanced, any of the showgirls in attendance wished their good mornings and waited for any critique as to their handiwork. It wasn’t forthcoming. It never was. Misu was right to boast.
The bar had been restocked, a wall of bottles in dizzying scope and complexity that ensured patrons were well inebriated no matter their tastes. The bar area itself, disjointed from an outer wall, was joined by reams of seating. The bar doubled as a makeshift kitchen, though it was too small to feed attendees so instead remained for staff use only.
Everything was predictably spotless and with this predictability came boredom. Franco’s mind wandered.
‘You didn’t tell me the girls had new outfits.’
‘Cheaper than you think, I assure you, so please do not fret. Besides, it came as a nice surprise, did it not? I can still pull one over you, manager.’ Misu nodded her acceptance to another showgirl they passed, who curtseyed back in relief.
‘It’s a shame that we don’t have a show on tonight. I rather like that little red and black lace number of yours,’ he said.
‘You like anything that shows my cleavage, like any man, and whilst that is flattering in a funny sort of way, it’s not exactly what a girl looks for. Aim a little higher if you’re attempting to be charming.’
As they moved out of the car and stepped out onto the connecting platform that straddled the coupling, they turned to face one another. This game was growing tiresome for them both. Playful jibes were no longer getting the desired effects. Stakes had to be raised as much as the blood if there was any chance for a payoff.
‘You’re not performing at this moment, so you can rest spitting fire. Answer me honestly: what exactly does a woman desire, huh? Security? Authority?’ Franco asked with hint of heat before standing toe to toe, having the advantage of a good foot of height. ‘Maybe it’s money. Maybe it’s the prestige. Maybe it’s this charm that you spoke of. Maybe, just maybe …’
Misu bit her bottom lip gently, feigning lust.
‘Maybe a woman should tell me what she desires so a man doesn’t need to resort to guesswork.’
His lips, mere millimetres away, puckered gently as he pressed against her to reach for the connecting door handle to the final car. She watched him with a flick of the eyes as he did her in return, waiting to see who would be the first one to succumb to their baser instincts. Despite this display being nothing but teasing, of which she was equally as guilty, there was always the taint of frustration when one of the pair brought the game to a premature end.
Their bodies slipped against one another as he passed and this time it was him who finished things.
‘You have soot on your lips,’ he lied. ‘Stop dawdling, my dear, we have work to do.’
With a coquettish grin, Misu complied.
There was hardly any send-off for the Gambler’s Den’s departure. They left before the majority of locals managed to recover from their heady experiences, which only added to the venture’s mystique. Tales had to spread to be of value, and that couldn’t be done if the train dawdled in one location for too long. The locomotive hauled itself out of the station, its heavy wheels spinning and steam plume from the chimney venting into the clear sky.
Children running along the platforms did their best to wish it well on its travels. The sentiment was reciprocated with a sharp toot from the train’s whistle that whipped the youngsters into a frenzy. Tales of what they witnessed would carry well into adulthood.
The train began to pull out from Rustec, but as it followed the track past the flat-roofed houses, a lone figure gave chase, vaulting over gaps between the residences, ducking beneath cluttered washing lines and over timber decking. The figure was dressed all in beige, and adorned in a heavy poncho. A mask covered the lower part of her face, while her hazel eyes calculated distances with precision. Over her shoulder was a weighty knapsack, its burden not visually apparent as she darted from rooftop to rooftop.
The Gambler’s Den leant in to a bend, running it parallel to the buildings, providing a straight line for the approaching individual. As she sprinted her last, a hefty leap sent her skyward, crashing down onto the boxcar gable.
Hugging the car roof, she crawled her way to a trapdoor, flicked the latch, and slunk inside, her motions smooth and catlike. The beige-clad figure pulled down her facemask and shook out dirt that had collected in the poncho folds. She was young, too young to be up to such nonsense, but necessity had forced many a person to make rash choices. This happened to be one of Wyld’s less regrettable ones.
Franco was waiting patiently, arms defensively crossed, and sitting among the clutter.
‘Were you seen?’ he enquired.
Finally when the woman managed to take enough air to speak, she shook her head.
‘Never am. Wasn’t this time. Won’t be next. You needn’t fret.’
‘Did you get what you were after?’ Franco pressed the next question with equal urgency.
Wyld smiled, gently opened the knapsack and revealed a small gem-encrusted object that was tucked safely in the bag’s leather folds. ‘You would have figured that they would have locked this thing up better. Honestly, security is so lax nowadays it’s hardly a challenge. I somewhat wonder why I even bother sneaking in.’
‘If you’re going to steal whilst you tag along with us, I think I should charge you a higher rate for passage. You understand my concern that you could become a liability?’
Franco placed his hand out, fingers beckoning in gesture for his cut.
Wyld reached into a pocket, producing a small leather pouch that jangled with coin. There was no need to examine the contents when passed over; the weight and size matched her overdue payment.
‘I keep my part of the bargain – no need to remind me.