Viper swayed on his feet, scanning the scene. His bloodshot eyes blinked unevenly as he licked his thin, chapped lips, reminding Trinket of the frogs Booker had been dissecting in his laboratory. However, when he took a step towards them with a dangerous glint in his eye, he seemed more like a bear, ready to tear apart and devour anyone who got in his way. And not the sort of devouring Mrs. Portch was so fond of.

"If you blasted gibfaces were fighting again, I'm gonna rip your ugly heads off," Viper spat as he drew closer to the men on the ground.

They scrambled to their feet, dutifully avoiding their leader's gaze.

"Every bloody time I turn my back, you lot are mafficking and beating each other senseless," Viper went on. "I have half a mind to drown y'all in your own vomit."

His men still wouldn't look him in the eye. His lip lifted in a snarl, revealing a single black tooth amidst his yellowing ones. As he turned, he caught sight of Daphne. His brow furrowed as he looked her up and down for far longer than necessary. A wobbly smile stretched his lips. Daphne held her boot up like a weapon, her expression steely enough to sharpen a knife.

"Bunch of miscreants, acting up in front of a lady. Ma'am, I offer you my sincerest apologies for any trouble my boys might've caused. Let me make it up to you with a drink. My treat."

He grabbed Daphne around the waist and attempted to kiss her, but she raised her boot and whacked him hard on the back of the head, knocking his bowler hat to the ground. Trinket gasped and clutched Booker's jacket, terrified of what Viper might do.

Surprisingly, he laughed. "A bricky girl, eh? I like 'em with spirit."

Again, he tried to kiss her, and though she resisted, his strength was more than she could handle. Booker finally stepped forward and grabbed the thug's shoulder. "Unhand her this instant."

Viper spun around, still holding Daphne by the waist. "This ain't your business, addlepate."

Recognition dawned on his face, and he narrowed his eyes. Daphne took this opportunity to elbow him in the gut and escape to where Booker and Trinket were standing. Trinket took hold of her hand and squeezed it tight. Viper cursed loudly and turned his venomous glare on Daphne before focusing again on Booker.

"You," he growled, pointing a bloated finger at him. "This is all your fault."

"You're the one who took it upon yourself to grope a woman you've never even met," Booker responded.

"You're the reason I sacked Scales. If it wasn't for you and your big mouth, none of this would've happened."

Booker went stiff, and Trinket prayed he wouldn't lose his temper. "So you'd rather have him trying to steal your gang from you?" he asked.

"My men've been at each other's throats for days now. I've nearly shot a few of 'em just to get some peace and quiet."

"Sounds like you never really had a handle on them to begin with. Maybe Scales wasn't the only one who felt he was the true leader of the gang."

Viper clenched his teeth and gave a horrifying growl. "You pigheaded—"

He went to swing his fist at Booker's face, but before he could even gain momentum, Daphne thrust her outstretched fingers at his throat. Viper let out a strangled cry and fell back a step. Daphne pulled Trinket and Booker away from the scene and back towards home. They didn't stop until they were at the front door, and once Booker managed to get the key in the lock, all three of them stumbled inside.

"Good Lord, why do our nights out always end like this?" Booker panted, sliding down to the floor after resetting the lock.

Trinket and Daphne were seated on the stairs, trying to catch their breath. "Why would the Mice be fighting amongst themselves?" Trinket asked, gripping the railing and leaning her head against the cool wood.

Booker shrugged. "My guess is not all of them agreed with Scales being ousted."

Daphne flapped her hands to get their attention and then held them out before her as if resting them on something like a cane or walking stick while giving a wicked yet familiar smirk.

"Scales?" Trinket tried.

"You think he could be instigating the divisions?" Booker asked.

Daphne dropped her hands into her lap and nodded.

"That makes sense," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Scales isn't the type to lie down and die. Of course he'd fight back. And what better way to do that than by destroying Viper's gang from within?"

"That's good, though, right?" Trinket said. "If the gang is dissolved, that's one less thing for Tinkerfall to worry about."

Booker shook his head. "No. You know he wouldn't stop there. His plan must be to cause a mutiny that will end Viper's reign so he can take over." He met her gaze. "Things will only get worse from there."

Trinket released a long breath and closed her eyes. If Scales gained control of the Dead Mice, this game would become ten times more difficult. He was after Benedict. And with the full cooperation of the most vicious men for miles around, he could very likely succeed.

"Are you all right, Daphne?" Booker asked.

Opening her eyes, Trinket turned to Daphne who was slouched against the wall. Daphne waved her hand dismissively and straightened her skirts.

"You were amazing back there," Trinket said.

Daphne smiled humbly, turning her eyes downward.

"Clearly this was not your first time dealing with rowdy men," Booker said with a small smile.

Raising her eyebrows, Daphne nodded slowly. Letting out a sigh, she rose to her feet and motioned towards the second floor.

"Oh, but your boot," Trinket said, suddenly realizing her boot was still missing.

Daphne shrugged.

"I'll buy you a new pair," Booker offered. "It's the least I can do after you saved me from another black eye."

"You can use mine in the meantime," Trinket added as she, too, rose up. "And thank you, Daphne. I don't know what we would've done without you."

Daphne smiled sweetly and wrapped her arms around Trinket in a tight hug. When she pulled away, her eyes darted to Booker, still sitting on the floor. She returned her gaze to Trinket and looked like she wanted to say something based on how her lips scrunched up in frustration. Instead of trying to convey the message through gestures, though, she simply squeezed Trinket's hands and placed a kiss on her forehead before heading to bed.

Only once Trinket heard the door to Daphne's room close did she turn to Booker. "I'm willing to bet she's quickly becoming your favorite maid," she said, coming down the stairs.

Booker smiled and put an arm around her as she sat beside him. "Second favorite. But she far outranks the ones who preceded you, my dear."

Trinket rested her head on his chest, breathing in deeply the familiar scent that lingered on all of his clothes. "How are we going to solve this mystery with so many people out for our blood?"

"I'd say they're out for my blood, not yours."

Scales' threats came to mind, sending a chill through her bones. "Maybe we should just bring Daphne along on all of our outings."

"That's not a bad idea."

"Of course, then the house will fall into disrepair."

"As I've said on numerous occasions, I don't care about the state of my home. It was only at Gin's urging that I hired a maid in the first place. She found severed fingers lying about the parlour unbecoming."

He laughed to himself but quickly sobered up as he stared down at his outstretched legs. Trinket leaned over and turned his face to her. The sadness in his eyes was enough to break her heart.

"To think you've gone from no maids to two," she said, offering a playful grin.

His smile returned, and he gently gripped her wrist. "A maid and an assistant who refuses to give up her servant duties."

"Do you really trust anyone else to make your tea?"

"No, I do not. I want you and only you to go anywhere near my tea. Well, maybe Daphne on occasion."

Trinket smiled and settled back in his arms. "My heart is still pounding from that run-in."

"I was hoping that was because of me."

She laughed softly. "Poor Daphne must be exhausted if she's gone to bed already. Usually, I can't pull her away from the kitchen."

"It is her laboratory, isn't it?"

"Her science is a lot less dangerous than yours, though. And far less disgusting."

"And here I thought you enjoyed working with me."

"I do. Far more than I ever expected to."

They sat there for a moment longer in content silence until Booker finally let out a deep breath. "I'll never sleep tonight," he said. "My mind is racing."

"About the corpses?"

"Yes. I need to figure out how the frogs play into all this. I think I'll do some research, see if I can't connect the two."

He got to his feet and offered his hands to her.

"I'll go brew some tea," she said as she pulled herself up with his help.

Tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, Booker shook his head. "You should go to bed, Trinket. It's been a rather eventful day."

He had no idea how eventful. "I'm your assistant, Mr. Larkin. Besides," she took his hand and brought it to her lips, "I enjoy your company."

She reveled in the delight that lit up his face. "Very well. I'll meet you in the library."

"I'll be the one with the tea."

With a coy smile, she turned and made her way into the kitchen, and for once, the shadows jumping out in front of her barely caught her attention. Her mind was too focused on how very comfortable she'd been in Booker's arms. How his embrace felt like home.

That word he mentioned earlier echoed in her mind:

Family.