The Torn Wing (12 page)

“It’s ‘cause yer pretty, Teek,” Clara piped up. “That’s why they stare at you.”

Tiki laughed and squeezed the little girl’s hand. “Your ears are working pretty well today, Miss. Did Mrs. Bosworth clean out all the potatoes in them?”

Clara burst into giggles. “I haven’t got potatoes in my ears.” She pointed her little hand. “Toots does.”

WHEN THEY REACHED Charing Cross Tiki sent Toots into the abandoned clockmaker’s shop to see if Johnny was there. Before he returned a familiar voice spoke from behind them.

“You’re looking as beautiful as a spring day, Miss Fiona.” For a second Tiki was reminded of when Rieker used to sneak up on her while she sat in this same bench. The girls turned to face Johnny. He swept his cap off his head, pulled a rose out of it and presented it to Fiona with a flourish. “A rose for the lovely lady.”

Fiona’s cheeks turned pink but she accepted the flower with a pleased smile. “Thank you.”

“Did you nick that from Mr. Colpitts?” Clara asked in her high voice. “It’s got the tag wot he puts on his flowers.”

“Hush, Clara,” Fiona said. She held the bag out. “We brought you something, too.”

Two dimples appeared in Johnny’s cheeks as he smiled, giving him a charming air. “For me?” He took the bag and peeked in. “Slaved over the stove all day, did you?”

Fiona giggled, her cheeks even rosier.

Tiki smiled as she stood up. “Clara and I are going over to the bookstore. Fi, can you sit with Johnny while he eats and wait for Toots? He should be back any time.”

Fiona cast a shy, sideways glance at Johnny, who was already moving around the bench to take Tiki’s seat.

“Brilliant idea!” he said with gusto, reaching for the bag from Fiona.

Fi playfully slapped at Johnny’s hands. “Hold on, let me get it out before you spill everything.”

“Come along, then.” Tiki said to Clara. “We’re not needed here.” Slipping her hand into Tiki’s, Clara skipped along as they walked the short distance to the bookstore. The bell above the door jingled as they entered.

“Hallo Mr. Potts,” Tiki called. After a moment, the old man shuffled out from between the stacks.

“Well, if it ain’t Tiki and the littl’un.” A smile wreathed his face. “I recognized you as a girl this time.” He braced his hand on his desk as he sank down onto his stool, his hips cracking with the movement.

Tiki patted the man’s gnarled hand. “How have you been?”

The old man shrugged his bony shoulders. “People comin’, people goin’. I miss havin’ yer come pester me for books.” He gave her a wobbly smile.

“Well, I’m here to make a purchase today. A gift for a friend of mine.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed. “Are you still visitin’ with Oliver Twist?”

Tiki blinked in surprise. “Well yes, actually, that’s who the gift is for. What do you recommend this time?”

Mr. Potts pushed off from his stool and moved slowly into the interior of the store.

Tiki raised her eyebrows at Clara who gave an innocent shrug in return, her vivid blue eyes round with curiosity.

A moment later Mr. Potts returned with a thick volume. “’ere yer go.” He placed the heavy book into Tiki’s hands. “It’s been around for awhile. Written by a French chap.”

“That’s a fat book,” Clara said. “Has it got faeries in it?”

“
The Count of Monte Cristo
, by Alexandre Dumas.” Tiki read out loud. “I’ve not heard of this one.”

“’Bout a bloke with more than one identity.” Mr. Potts quirked a gray eyebrow at Tiki. “Your friend should like it. I’ll sell it to you half off today.”

Tiki bit back a laugh and handed him a silver shilling. Rieker would also enjoy the man’s sharp wit, she was sure.

“An for you,” he tweaked Clara’s nose, “I’ve got a book over here with a type of faerie in it.” He shuffled to a different section of the store and brought back a thin book. “This is called
The Field of Boliauns
. ‘Bout a little chap called a leprechaun. Tricky sort, that.” He slid the book into Clara’s hands and waved away Tiki’s offer to pay. “You hold onto them coins so you stay outta trouble.”

They visited for a bit longer and then promising to return soon, Tiki and Clara held hands as they headed back into the station to find Fiona and Toots. There were fewer trains in Charing Cross than King’s Cross and the station wasn’t as busy. Tiki couldn’t help but glance at every traveler they passed and wonder if Larkin was disguised in a glamour somewhere nearby watching them.

But instead of Larkin, her eyes fell on a different familiar face. It was the young man who had tipped his hat at her when she and Fiona had walked to see Mr. Potts a few days ago—she was sure of it. His suit was neat and he wore a hat on his head like a gentleman. His blond hair was a bit longer than most, making him easy to recognize, but there was the same nagging sense of familiarity.

He leaned against a storefront corner, watching her, his arms crossed in a relaxed, slightly arrogant fashion, one side of his mouth turned in an appreciative grin. Suddenly Clara tugged on Tiki’s hand and pointed at the young man. “Look, Tiki—it’s Dain!”

Chapter Seventeen

T
iki’s knees went weak. “Dain?” she echoed softly. “The Dain who brought Toots home?”

“Yep, same one,” Clara said in a happy voice. She tugged Tiki toward the young man. “Let’s go talk to ‘im. Maybe he’s got his pretty horse outside so you can see.”

Tiki hesitated, then gripped Clara’s hand tighter. “Yes, you’re right. Let’s have a word with Dain.” Clara skipped along beside Tiki as they approached the young man, waving happily. Dain pushed off the wall and straightened, sweeping his hat off his head.

He knelt down and smiled at the little girl. “Hello Clara, what a surprise to see you here today. Are you traveling?”

“No, we came to see ol’ Potts and to feed Johnny.”

Dain’s eyebrows flicked in a frown. “Who’s Johnny?”

“He’s a friend of ours, especially Fi.” She gave him a sweet smile as she held out her book. “See? I got a book ‘bout faeries, ‘cept they’re really called lep’reecons.”

Dain made a show of looking at the book. “Leprechauns are tricky sorts – you best be careful around them or they’ll steal all your gold.”

Clara’s laughter trilled like wind chimes. “That’s wot ol’ Potts said too.” Dain smiled up at Tiki. “Is this pretty girl your sister?”

His direct question took Tiki by surprise.

“That’s Tiki. She takes care of me.” Clara smiled brightly at Tiki as Dain pushed himself to his feet. “She’s like my mum, aren’t you, Teek?”

“Miss Tiki, is it?” He inclined his head at her. “Brendain Browne, but my friends call me Dain. I hope you will too.” His voice was low and musical, as if there was a thread of laughter underlying his words. Up close, he was taller than Tiki expected and she had to tilt her head to look into his face. “Clara is lucky to have someone as kind and attentive as you to care for her.” His eyes were blue and guileless and Tiki felt the heat rise in her cheeks. He was extremely attractive, from the firm line of his jaw, to the chiseled features of his face and she was sure he knew it.

“Do I know you?” Tiki asked coldly. There was something familiar about this young man that made her want to know more— which told her one thing: he was dangerous. Only Rieker had ever had this effect on her.

Dain seemed non-plussed at her rude behavior. “I don’t believe we’ve been formerly introduced, but I look forward to getting to know you better.” He smiled, revealing a dimple on the left side of his cheek.

“But you know Toots?” Tiki persisted.

“Toots?” A puzzled frown brushed across his forehead. “I’m sorry—”

“Thomas.” Tiki shook her head to clear her thoughts. “He’s a ten year old, loves horses, has bright orange hair and freckles.”

Dain’s face went blank. “Why do you ask?”

It felt like a rock landed in Tiki’s stomach. Dain’s reaction to her description of Toots was too controlled. It was obvious he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“You are the one who brought him home, aren’t you?” she said. Tiki took a step back and pulled Clara along with her. “What do you want?” Fear sharpened her wits and suddenly she could think again. Why was he here,
now
—when Tiki and her family were here?

“Dain, did you bring your white horse today?” Clara asked. “With the pretty red ribbons and the bells? I want to show her to Teek.”

Dain’s eyes were locked on Tiki and he seemed unsure how to answer.

“Are you following me?” Tiki snapped. Somehow, Dain was involved in Toots’ trip to the Otherworld. That alone was enough for Tiki to consider him dangerous. He wanted something—but what?

Tiki squatted down and lifted Clara into her arms, wondering if she should pull her knife from where it was hidden up her sleeve as she backed away. “Just leave us alone,” she said in a low voice.

“Why do you want him to leave us alone, Teek?” Clara asked, giving Tiki a confused look. “I like him and Doggie does too.”

Dain fingered his hat as he debated his answer, his eyes never leaving Tiki’s face. “I’m here to help.”

Tiki put her hand up. “We don’t want your help.” She turned and hurried away.

Chapter Eighteen

T
iki’s thoughts swam in confusing eddies as they returned to where Toots and Fiona sat with Johnny. Though his glamour had been flawless, Dain was fey, she was sure of it. He’d known who she was talking about when she’d asked about Toots and he’d avoided a direct answer. What did he want from them?

“We found Toots, Miss Tiki,” Johnny said with a mischievous grin as Tiki approached.

She gave a weak smile in return. “Good.” It was all she could think to say. Earlier, she’d considered inviting Johnny back to Rieker’s townhome for another hot meal but Shamus had warned her not to reveal any more of Rieker’s real life as William Richmond to the boy. Now, with this Dain fellow possibly following her, she needed to be extra careful.

“When Rieker starts his free school, maybe you could attend with us,” Fiona suggested to Johnny as they were leaving.

“Why would he want to do that?” Toots asked “Who
wants
to go to school?”

Johnny smiled at Fiona. His brown hair was long and shaggy, a thick layer of bangs covering his forehead, but his eyes sparkled and he was quick with an engaging smile. “That sounds tempting, Miss Fiona.” He handed her the bag with the empty stew crock in it, his fingers lingering on hers. “Thank you again for the meal.”

Fiona nodded, her teeth tugging at her lower lip.

“Good-bye, Johnny,” Tiki said, slipping her arm through Fiona’s and pulling her away. “Take care.”

He doffed his cap at them and gave them a mock bow. Though his clothes were threadbare and a string wrapped around his boot held the sole to the bottom of his shoe, he had a certain rakish air about him. “Until we meet again.”

Tiki nudged Fiona as they pushed their way out the doors of Charing Cross into the afternoon. She glanced once over her shoulder to see if they were being followed but Dain was nowhere in sight. “He’s a cheeky bit, that one. You better be careful around him, Fiona.”

“Don’t worry, Teek. Fi’s waitin’ for a ‘andsome prince,” Clara said, holding tight to Tiki’s hand. “Johnny’s not dressed right.”

Fiona remained unusually silent.

RIEKER WAS HOME when Tiki and the others arrived. Like usual, Toots went out to the coach house to see if Geoffrey would let him pet the horses and help feed or brush them, while Clara and Fiona went in search of Mrs. Bosworth to tell her how much Johnny had loved the stew.

Tiki knocked on the door to Rieker’s study.

“Come in,” his low voice called.

Tiki pushed the door open and peered in. Rieker sat at his desk, his jacket thrown over the back of a nearby chair, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, the fabric of his white shirt strained by his broad shoulders. His dark hair brushed his collar as he bent his head to work, a gas lamp lighting the wood surface of the desk.

“Am I interrupting?”

Rieker glanced over his shoulder, and immediately stopped working. “No, I’m just finishing up some paperwork.” He waved a hand in the direction of the chairs. “Come in and sit down.”