Kiran and the owner of the house continued to talk for a little while, and the owner said he hoped that Kiran would tell all of his friends where he’d won the money. Kiran was buttering the man up, telling him how he would send all of his friends here, and how he would tell everyone he met how fine the establishment here was.

            After what seemed like hours, the owner beckoned to the bar tender, who threw Kiran a leather purse to put the silver in.

            “You’ve got a carriage waiting I hope, sir?” The owner began escorting Kiran to the door, and I was left to trail behind him, shooting venomous looks at the both of them. Of course the stupid oaf didn’t think I’d pulled the lever and won, since I was a woman.

            Just as  I was debating kicking the backs of his knees, Kiran reached around the man and grasped my hand, pulling me forward until my hip bumped his. He drew one arm around me tightly, pulling me against him so tightly that I knew he’d spotted the poisonous looks I was shooting at the man.

            He was probably worried I would do or say something and mess this all up, but there was no way I was jeopardizing that much silver, regardless of how much I wanted to kick the man.

            “Oh certainly,” Kiran said. “Yes, yes. Wouldn’t do to walk down the street like this.” He shook the man’s hand again, and the owner gave him a business card, bidding him to return again when he could.

            “I think that’s my luck for the year,” Kiran joked. “But I’ll certainly bring other gentlemen to try theirs, sir!”

            Finally we were out the door, and Kiran released the death grip he had on my arm. As we walked I could hear the metallic clinking of the coins in his pocket. His eyes were darting up and down the street and he muttered nervously, “Damn it all, Gregor, where’ve you gone off to?”

            The hackney cab that should have been waiting for us just down the street was absent, and Kiran and I continued walking, both of us searching the steady stream of traffic. It was a mixture of steam driven wagons and horse drawn carriages, and the occasional collector automaton, which was given a wide birth.

            “That’s what you get for hiring a cheap driver, I suppose,” I snapped at Kiran. “We’re just going to walk through broad daylight with a sack full of coins now?”

            “Daylight in a busy street,” Kiran pointed out. “It’s not dangerous until we’re…” he trailed off suddenly, staring straight ahead, muttering quietly, “Blast it.”

            There was a little alley ahead and to the right. A gentleman was leaning out of it, craning his head around the corner to stare at us. “Gentleman” could only be used in the most imaginative way possible, since his coat was torn and shabby and even his bowler hat was dented and worn.

            Kiran slowed down to a very casual pace. “Do you know that gentleman?”

            “I don’t.” I narrowed my eyes, squinting to try to see him better. “Someone Boxcar is employing, do you think?”

            “Impossible to tell.”

            We both glanced over at the street, though at that moment it would have been impossible to cross, it was thick with traffic. And we couldn’t stop there on the sidewalk, the flow of pedestrians was too much.

            “They won’t attack us surrounded by people?” I hesitated, gravitating closer to Kiran as we continued to be swept forward.

            “I’ll wager they attempt to grab you and pull you into the alley.” Kiran took my arm firmly, skillfully pulling me sideways and edging behind me without bumping into anyone. Now I was walking on the other side of him, further away from the mouth of the alley. “They’ll find me considerably harder to pull into their trap.”

            Instinctively I found myself reaching for my waist, but of course, there was no knife or pistol tucked into the silky fabric of the ribbon there. My belt was sitting on the floor of the hotel, and I’d lost my pistol to Boxcar.

            I cursed inwardly. “Do you have a weapon on you? I’m not going to be able to fight in this clown outfit.”

            “No need to worry,” Kiran said grimly. “I’ve got all sorts of things up my sleeves.”

            We were nearly to the mouth of the alley now, and as we began to pass it, the man in the bowler hat darted one hand out and seized a fistful of Kiran’s shirt. The crowd behind me pushed me forward, and I caught a glimpse of a dirty faced man leering at me from behind the man in the alley.

            Boxcar.

             I battled against the people sweeping me along, elbowing people angrily in my attempts to back up. Kiran was digging his feet into the cobblestones, but the man in the bowler hat was tugging him backwards, grunting and red faced. If they managed to pull him into the alley and out of sight of the crowd…

            Finally, after I elbowed a lady in a dirty grey shawl to one side, there was a space in the crowd surrounding me, and I lunged backwards and caught Kiran’s left arm, yanking him back with equal force. Kiran grunted, the object of a lethal game of tug-o-war.

            Alarm jolted through me each time I tried to step backwards. The stupid shoes were making my footing wobbly and unsure, the blasted heels caught on the stones every time I moved. There was no way I could keep this up. Feeling something hard under my fingertips, I rammed my other hand up Kiran’s sleeve, fingers closing around the smooth handle of a blade. I jerked the knife out and rotated sideways so that I was pressed against Kiran in an intimate fashion. Maybe the crowd would think we were lovers slipping into the back alley for a quick tumble. I leaned sideways, the handle of the knife clenched in my fist, and slashed at the man in the bowler hat.

            The blade sliced through his coat, scoring a long gash down his forearm, and the man jumped backwards with a screech. Boxcar had been standing too close behind him, and both men crashed to the cobblestones.

            I had time to give Kiran a vicious grin and hand him his knife back before we were swept into the crowd again. I noticed he kept hold of my arm this time, and I wasn’t sure if it was to make sure we didn’t get separated…or something else.

            We found the hackney cab a block down, and when Kiran shouted at the driver, Gregor blinked at the both of us stupidly and asked if this wasn’t the block he’d dropped us off on. Kiran finally gave up yelling at him, wrenching the carriage door open and offering me his hand.

            I took it wordlessly, letting him escort me into the hackney cab. Once I was settled in, he climbed in after me, shutting the door and locking it behind us. He drew both curtain on the windows and then the carriage started off with the crack of the whip.

            It was just starting to get dark now, and for awhile I watched the sun sink down behind the tall peeks and towers of the city, lighting up the smog and casting an eerie orange glow over the rooftops. It was like the city was outlined by smoldering embers, and New London became some hellish other world when the evening finally came.

            Kiran shifted on the leather seat, cleared his throat. I looked up to catch him staring at me. He looked more relaxed now, resting the back of his head against the carriage in spite of how it rattled and bumped over the cobblestones.

            “I should thank you,” he finally said, in a voice so low it was almost inaudible. “You could have left me.”

            I tried to quiet the nervous flutter that started in my stomach, giving him a carefree grin. “You’re welcome.”

            Kiran held my gaze for a second longer, then to my disappointment he turned away from me, staring out the window for a long moment.

            Thinking the conversation was over before it had even started, I leaned back against the leather seat, hands braced on either side of me to keep myself from sliding around. I was about to ask him what we were going to do next, when Kiran said suddenly,

            “I’m sorry, by the way.”

            Shocked, I glanced up. He was still staring at the window, and in spite of how dimly lit it was in the carriage, I could swear his face was flushed. He took a deep breath and continued, “About what I said earlier, I mean. About you magicking me.” He hesitated, and I sunk lower into my seat, feeling my face light up to match his. My mind was going to great lengths to recall exactly how his skin had felt under my fingers, how his lips had tasted on mine.

            “I have trust issues,” Kiran muttered. “And this is too important to risk…I mean, I can’t have destractions…”

            “It’s fine,” I managed to blurt out. “Just…let’s not talk about it.”

            I wasn’t sure if I liked being described as “distractions” and obviously Kiran, like any hot-blooded male, had kissed me back, but that didn’t mean he was actually interested in me. Revenge was the only thing on his mind at this point.

            “What now?” I finally asked. “On to the next string of lucky breaks?”

            Kiran reached down and touched his pocket, and I could hear the clink of silver. “Your jackpot idea will actually get us in right away. This is good, the sooner the better. The dress you’re wearing is actually fancy enough for Rook’s place.” He sat up straighter, and now his blue eyes were glittering with an almost savage light. “Tomorrow evening, it begins.”

            Tomorrow evening. That was sooner than I’d expected, and it looked like my way out was gone now. I’d had the chance more than once and hadn’t taken it. I knew, deep down, that the part of me that was addicted to gambling was excited to see how this would turn out.

            If we won this game, it would mean the ultimate pay out. I’d be set for life. But if we lost. If we got caught…

            The stakes had never been this high before.