“Where do we sign up?” Glory asked.
“There is one more thing. An inviolable condition,” Charlie said. “If you decide to become an Angel, you must take a vow of secrecy. You are to tell no one about the group—not your family, your friends, or even lovers—without my express permission. This is to protect the safety of all involved in my organization. Do you want time to consider my proposition?”
Livy looked at her friends and saw her answer in their eager faces.
“We do not need more time. We accept.” She drew a breath. “There is, however, a problem.”
“Problems are merely solutions waiting to happen.” Charlie took a sip of tea. “Go on.”
“My parents are taking me back to Scotland in a fortnight, and I will not be back in Town for several months,” Livy said glumly. “If you wish to start training us immediately, Fiona and Glory will be available, but I will not.”
“We don’t want to start without you,” Glory protested.
“We’ll wait for you,” Fi said simultaneously.
Gratitude filled Livy. She had the best of friends…and she would not hold them back.
“You mustn’t refuse the opportunity on my account,” she said firmly. “Perhaps I can join when I get back from Scotland—”
“Would you like to stay in London and train to be an Angel?” Charlie asked.
Livy’s nod was fervent. “More than anything.”
Charlie smiled. “Then, my dear, leave it to me.”
12
The moon’s silvery glow limned the outline of the figure lying face-down in the alley behind the butcher shop. A chill snaked through Ben as he saw the unmistakable reddish gleam of hair. He’d hoped against hope that the urgent summons Chen had received had been a mistake.
“Found ’im when I was tossing out the rubbish, Master Chen.” The somber tones came from the butcher, a man with a stained apron tied over his bulging midsection. “Thought you’d want to know. Poor sod were one o’ your students, weren’t ’e?”
“He was,” Chen said quietly. “Thank you, sir. I will take care of things from here.”
The butcher nodded, making the sign of the cross before heading back into his shop.
Crouching next to the body, Ben inhaled before rolling it over. Pete stared up into the heavens, his gaze a still pond that reflected the white crescent moon. Twin rivulets of blood were crusted beneath his nostrils and over his lips.
Ben’s eyes grew hot and gritty. He didn’t know why he was so affected. He hadn’t known Pete long and yet…
He was just a lad. It’s such a damned waste. If only I’d convinced him to leave the streets…
Kneeling on the other side, Chen closed the boy’s eyes.
“You were always running,” the healer murmured. “Now may you finally be at rest.”
Grief swelled, and Ben fought it off by searching for clues to Pete’s death. He didn’t have far to look: clutched in the lad’s still-warm fingers was the familiar red box with the entwined “D” and “B.” Opening the box, Ben saw it was empty, and a sudden fury rose in him.
“How did Pete get his hands on this poison?” he bit out.
“Probably the way he attained most things,” Chen replied.
The healer was going through Pete’s coat with methodical precision. He removed a golden disc from Pete’s inner pocket. A fob watch—an expensive one, Ben reckoned, by the exquisite filigree work on the cover.
Chen opened it. “There is an inscription: To my husband and our everlasting love. P.”
“Do you think Pete filched the drug and the watch from the same cove?” Ben asked grimly.
“It is possible.” Chen’s features were stark. “The watch is a lead, and we must try to find its owner.”
With swirling misgivings, Ben mounted the steps to the Strathaven residence a week later.
What does Strathaven want? Did he find out about Livy and me? Coming here is a mistake.
When he’d received the duke’s summons, Ben had debated putting the other off. However, he could not think of an adequate excuse, especially since his friend would soon be leaving for Scotland. If Strathaven merely wanted to say good-bye, then Ben’s refusal would not only be ill-mannered but would perhaps raise suspicion.
Guilt mangled Ben’s insides as the butler greeted him and led him toward his host’s study. He felt as nervous as a damned schoolboy as he looked for Livy. He both dreaded and hoped that she would come dashing toward him the way she had in her younger days, her green eyes bright with welcome. Her presence had a way of banishing shadows, and given the darkness of the last week, he found himself craving her light.
Today, however, Livy was nowhere to be seen, and her absence tightened the knot of longing, frustration, and confusion in his gut. Pete’s death had been a tragic reminder of how fleeting life could be…and how it should not be wasted. If Ben were to die tomorrow, he knew that his biggest regret would be not making things right with Livy.
Yet how could he restore their special friendship when Livy insisted that she wanted to become his lover?
Just thinking about Livy and the word “lover” in the same sentence sent him spiraling down a forbidden path. For an instant, he felt her curvy bottom rocking against his cock, tasted the sweetness of her lips pressed so innocently against his. Her whispered words emerged from his darkest fantasies: I wanted you to touch me, kiss me. To be with me the way you were with her…
Simultaneously, memories of their friendship flashed through his head. Twelve-year-old Livy, wet and bedraggled, pledging her allegiance to him. Adolescent Livy, playing games and sharing her schoolmiss adventures with him. Searching him out at parties and making sure he was never alone. And Livy of just a year or two ago, keeping him company through her letters, easing his solitude in a
