Black Blood (3 page)

She tried to
keep her head down as she wandered through the crowd, hoping no one
would notice her feminine form gliding past them in men’s clothing.
It was times like these, she was grateful for her tiny curves.

Dom
walked tall, oozing a confidence that no one dared counter, or
notice for that matter. Her brother had a magic way of fitting in
to any situation. He always went on about how “if you look like
you’re supposed to be there, no one will even notice you.” He was
right of course, but Gemma always found her “nerves of steel” bank
too depleted to pull it off.

At their
quick pace, it didn’t take long for them to reach the poorer side
of town. The stench of garbage thrown from open windows onto the
pavement below had Gemma fighting to keep her expression bland.
Even after five years of traveling she could not get over how
people had had to live throughout history. The filth and disease in
these cities were rife. It certainly made her appreciate life in
21
^st
Century Florida.

Turning the
corner, the duo entered another run down street. The squawk of
greedy seagulls reached Gemma’s ears. They were nearing the docks.
The squalor around them increased as warehouses began to loom
beside them, creating a dingy pathway to the River Thames.

Gemma held in a
gasp as they rounded another corner and noticed a dirt clad boy
huddled in the gutter next to his beat up sister. Gemma’s eyes
glistened at the heart-wrenching scene. She wanted to lift them
into her arms, promise them everything would be fine and carry them
back to Florida. A strong tug on her arm reminded her she
couldn’t.

Stepping around
their shrunken bodies, Dom pulled her into an alley and stopped in
front of a rickety, wooden door.

“This is it.”
He shoved the door open.

Taking the
stairs, two at a time, they quickly found the room they were
looking for. It was cramped with a small table consisting of two
burned down candles, piles of scrappy paper and an ink well. On the
floor, in the corner, was a crumple of dirty bedding and a pile of
well-read newspapers. Gemma wrinkled her nose at the stale odor as
she clambered over the crate posing as a chair and began rifling
through the pages.

Clumping them
into a manageable pile, she grabbed the satchel resting on the
floor and shoved them inside. Slinging the bag over her head and
across her chest, she nodded to Dom and they headed back down the
stairs.

Thankfully the
entrance was clear as they exited the building and the only thing
that stopped Gemma from taking off after her brother was a
high-pitched squeal that raced from the gutter. Spinning around,
she noticed the boy flaying his little arms as he tried to defend
his older sister from the groping hands of a smelly dockworker.

Gemma’s gut
twisted as she watched the sweating man grab at her scant clothing
while pulling her into the alley. Swinging a hand behind him, he
sent the weak boy flying.

Dom’s heavy
breathing was soon behind her as he’d retraced his steps in order
to retrieve his frozen sister. She heard his breathing grow rapid
as he took in the scene.

“We can’t let
this happen, Dom. Please?” Gemma felt a surge of relief as he gave
a stone-faced nod and stepped around her.

She nearly
cheered when her brother landed a solid fist in the man’s face,
knocking him unconscious. The whimpering girl shuffled away from
him. She curled into a ball against the wall, grabbing at her
tattered clothing in a bid for decency. Gemma dropped the satchel
and shook her way out of her jacket. Kneeling beside the wounded
prey, she draped the jacket over her shoulders and smoothed back
the girls matted hair.

The girl
quivered beneath her touch, her eyes wide with terror as she
watched Dom cradle her bruised brother in his arms.

“It’s alright.
We’re not going to hurt you. Let us help you out of here.”

The girl gave a
shaky nod and let Gemma help her to her feet. Grabbing up the
satchel once more, they set a slow pace down the alley, Gemma
supporting the limping girl.

“Oi!” The sound
made Gemma’s insides freeze. “Who the hell are they? Jack? Jack’s
been hit!”

Turning, Gemma
soaked in the scene of five angry workers approaching their fallen
comrade. Their eyes were turning red with fury as they figured out
what had happened.

The burly
redhead with missing front teeth caught her eye and let out a low
growl. That’s all it took to get her legs moving. Hauling the stick
figure into her arms, she raced down the alley, sensing her
brother’s swift feet behind her.

Doorways and
empty rooms flashed by them as they sought a quick escape. The
sound of yelling men grew nearer, sending the girl into a frenzied
panic. She struggled in Gemma’s arms, crying for her mother and
clawing for a way out.

“It’s okay,”
Gemma tried to soothe through her paced breathing. “I’ll keep you
safe.”

“Here!”

She followed
Dom down another stinking alley. Racing around a pile of barrels,
she crouched next to her brother and tried to slow her breathing.
Clamping a hand over the girl’s mouth, she muffled the wails and
looked to Dom, desperate for inspiration.

Her
brother loosened his grip on the boy and gave him room to crawl
over to his sister. He brushed a comforting hand down her cheek.
The girl’s sobs ebbed to silent tears. Gemma removed her hand and
began stroking the girl’s back the way her mother used to when
she'd had a bad dream.

The sound of
pounding feet flew past them.

“What do we do
now?”

Dom peeked
around the barrels.

“They’re going
to come back after us. It won’t take them long to search this area.
We can’t stay. I just need to figure out where we are.” He glanced
at her, indecision riding over his face like a maelstrom. Finally
his eyes cleared and he gave a nod. “You stay here with the kids.
I’m going to head back and see if I can figure a way out of this
maze.”

“But what
if...” Gemma grabbed his arm.

“I can look
after myself Gemma, but I can’t look after two kids and you as
well.”

“I can take
care of myself,” she said a little defensively.

He shook his
head. “I know you can, you idiot.” His eyes softened as they
wandered to the children. “But these guys need a safe trip out of
here and we can’t give them that if we’re busy fighting.”

Gemma relented
with a small nod.

“Just let me do
a little surveillance, okay? I’ll be back in sec.” He threw the
last comment over his shoulder as he snuck out from their hiding
spot and disappeared back down the alley.

Gemma clung to
the children huddled at her feet. Her father was going to kill them
for this detour. She just prayed he wouldn’t bring them home before
they had a chance to get the children away from the docks and to a
boarding house or orphanage of some kind. She wished for a watch as
she waited for Dom’s return. Her father was giving them four hours
to complete the task, she wondered how much time they had left.

A soft tap on
her shoulder made her whip around with a gasp. She had been so lost
in thought trying to figure out how much time they had used up, she
hadn’t even heard the man approaching.

Her muscles
tensed as she assessed the crouched man beside her, but her mouth
was soon hanging open in horror.

“Harrison? What
are you doing here?”

“Who’s
Harrison?” The man’s brows wrinkled with confusion before
straightening out to their original urgency. “Quickly, you must
come with me. I can get you out of here.”

Grabbing the
boy, he jumped to his feet and shot around the corner. Gemma
snaffled the girl into her arms and chased after him.

“But my
brother.” Gemma began her protest as soon as she was alongside the
agile man.

“He’ll be fine
once my servant finds him. I’ve been watching from my upstairs
window. As soon as I saw him take a wrong turn I sent my man after
him and decided to come for you three myself.”

“Where are we
going?”

“I’m taking you
up to my apartment.” The man stepped through a narrow doorway and
began ascending a crumbling staircase.

“You look way
too wealthy to be living here.” Gemma took in his fine stitched
clothing and found her suspicions rise.

“
I
don’t
live
here. I
simply work here.”

Gemma
followed him through the doorway and into a room on the top floor.
It was more spacious than that of Arthur Paulson’s and
substantially brighter. Gemma gently placed the shivering girl in a
nearby chair and walked to the windows as the man tended to the
children with cups of water and a wet rag. Staring down at the
alley, Gemma tried to glimpse her brother, but could not spot his
bulky frame. She felt the frustration glowering inside her and
realized it was fueled by fear. She paced the apartment, studying
its messy contents and trying to decipher who this man might
be.

Man, you look
like Harrison. It’s freaky!

He was probably
some distant relative, twice removed. Gemma would ask to see her
boyfriend’s genealogy again when she got back. With his passion for
history and his skill with research, they would no doubt find
something on this peculiar man. He looked as though he was rich
enough to be a prince, yet worked in the grimy docks of London.

“Why do you
work down here, when you could stay in your no doubt luxurious
manor and do…” Gemma flicked her arms towards his desk. “Whatever
it is you do?”

The man’s lips
rose with a slight smile before shooting her a dry look.

Man, you look
even more like Harrison when you do that!

“My business
here is my own, young lady.”

Gemma twitched
her shoulders, feigning indifference.

“Unless, of
course, you’d like to tell me why a woman, such as yourself, is
dressed like a man?”

Her cheeks
flared as she shook her head with a smile. Usually a statement like
that would send her into a frozen panic, but there was a sense of
serenity about this man. She felt a pull towards him, a curiosity
to find out more. Leaning against his desk, she watched him soothe
the children’s fears with a few whispered words, before lying them
down on a make shift bed of blankets. After a few hummed notes of a
tune Gemma vaguely recognized, the children were drifting into
sleep. Gemma felt her heart squeeze as she watched their pale
faces.

“My brother
will have room for them on his staff. You do not need to fear for
their safety.”

Gemma met the
man’s steady gaze and knew she could trust him. She mouthed a quick
thank you. Lifting the satchel over her shoulder, she dumped it at
her feet and let a smile wisp over her features.

“Why are you
helping us, Mr…”

The man’s eyes
softened as he came forward with an extended hand. “Clayton.
Nathaniel Clayton.” Pulling out the chair beside his desk, he
plopped into it with a relaxed sigh. “I’m helping you because you
look like you needed it and because…” His eyes dropped to his hands
before gazing up at her with intensity. “You remind me of her.”

“Of who?”

His eyes
deepened to a rich chocolate as he spoke. “My love.” The whispered
words were like sweet perfume. Gemma felt her body warm with the
scent.

“Was she your
wife?”

The man
blushed as he smiled and shook his head.

“She was my
morning star, my jewel. I could not keep her, but I could never
love another now.”

His fingers ran
around his neck and pulled out a leather necklace, swinging from it
was a round stone disk that looked a little like a cogwheel.

Gemma stepped
forward and examined it. It was smooth and cold to the touch. “Did
she give you this?”

“Yes.”
Nathaniel’s voice sounded like melted chocolate. His eyes were
distant with a memory that was both beautiful and heart
breaking.

“It’s very…
unique,” Gemma scrounged for a polite word. It wasn’t exactly the
most attractive piece of jewellery she had ever encountered.

“So was she.”
Nathaniel cleared his throat as he took it from her grasp.

“Why couldn’t
you keep her? Did she die?”

“No.” He shook
his head with a frown and tucked the necklace beneath his clothing.
“She left me. I’m still not sure why.”

“Well, you
should look for her and find out.”

He glanced up
with a faint smile.

“If she left
me, it would have been for good reason.”

His eyes swept
over the papers on his desk as he fell into silence. Gemma watched
both pain and affection skitter over his face and wanted to ask for
more. What was the woman’s name? Why did he still speak of her with
such adoration if she left without a reason? Was she married to
another man? Was she…? Any opportunity was stolen as Dominic burst
through the door followed by a humble man with quiet eyes.

“Gemma!” He
wrapped her in a fierce hug.

“I’m fine.” His
heavy coat muffled her assurance. “Let me breathe, Dom!” She pushed
him away.

“Sorry, I just…
I’m glad you’re okay.”

He turned to
face the two men. Gemma watched him blush with a small apology as
he nodded at the servant. She could just imagine the bullocking the
poor man would have received from her frantic brother. Last time he
had left Gemma alone their father had nearly ripped his head off.
Since then Dom had been reluctant to leave her side whenever they
crossed the line. The arrow shooting of 1393 didn’t help much
either. Gemma had been fighting off the cotton wool ever since. The
fact he left her today was a huge step, although she was guessing
they were going to keep this one under wraps if at all
possible.