The Wolf’s Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(50)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

He lifted the first code to the light and then reached into his desk drawer for the older note, the one Redding had tried to burn, and compared them.

The first part of the note, where it named the location, was in one code, but the word death was in an entirely different one.

The same code as on the supposedly old ciphers. Which meant Wilkins had given him entirely new ones? What the devil would he do that for? Why would Wilkins give him packets of new codes, ones that had yet to be seen by anyone, if…

Suddenly feeling ill, he took a seat as he replayed images of his meetings with Wilkins, his sudden cheerfulness and changed body language, and then finally the last meeting, where he’d given Hunter the ciphers as evidence.

Why give him new evidence?

Unless he was planting it.

He cursed and ran back into the ballroom to wake Gwen.

The minute he walked into the room, it felt different. Call it a sixth sense, or perhaps insanity or paranoia, but when he reached the fur blankets…

She was gone.

And in her place was a note.

In code.

Hunter donned his clothes as fast as possible. Knowing he probably looked a wreck, he ran out to the stables and saddled his horse, and made for Lainhart’s residence straightaway.

****

A sharp pain inched itself across the back of Gwen’s skull. She opened her eyes in confusion. Blurry images stood before her. After blinking a few times, she was able to make out the first person. Hollins glared at her with cold, lifeless eyes.

"How do you feel?" he asked as he pulled a knife from the inside of his jacket.

Gwen glared and shook her head. A gag had been stuffed inside her mouth, so she wasn’t able to respond.

"Ah, such expressive eyes, don’t you think, Wilkins?"

What?

Gwen’s eyes focused on the other figure across the room. Wilkins sat in a chair, a predatory smile gleaming from his mouth. "She’s always been hard to tame."

Outraged, Gwen kicked her feet and moved the chair, trying to free herself from the bonds that held her.

Hollins laughed and took a long swig of his drink, then nodded to Wilkins. "How much longer?"

"About an hour." Wilkins examined his pocket watch and sighed. "He will need to take the code to Lainhart. By the time he figures out where we have her, it may be too late. After all, I’ve been wanting to taste her for over a year. And now that her blood will be on Hunter’s hands, I find myself even more… aroused."

Gwen screamed against the gag but the sound was muffled.

Wilkins approached her. His clothes were dark and dirty, as if he hadn’t bathed in days. He leaned down, his knees popping as he came to eye level with her. "Stupid woman, thinking she can do a man’s job. Though I have to admit to being impressed. After all, you tamed the Wolf, the man who I thought I had broken."

Gwen tried to speak again but the gag ate it, so all that came out was another scream.

"Do you love him?"

She stilled.

"Ah, you do! This is even better!" He jumped to his feet and slapped Hollins on the back. "Imagine that! We aim to catch a Wolf and we gain another sad ending to a love story. He shall take his own life the minute he finds out he lost another woman by his own hands. It will be such a tragic tale, don’t you think?" Wilkins’ fingers moved to Gwen’s chest. When she was kidnapped, her dress from the night previous was discarded. The man who abducted her had thrown a much too tight dress in her direction and ordered her to put it on. It resembled something a prostitute would wear. The gown was dangerously low, and of course red, as if mocking what she had done for the Crown for a year.

Hollins smirked and tilted his head to Gwen. He was dressed impeccably in tight pantaloons, boots, and a perfectly fitting jacket, almost as if he were getting ready to go pay a visit to someone important.

Who pulled the strings? Was Wilkins the leader, or was it Hollins? Gwen’s mind worked fast as she tried to put things together.

And then it dawned on her.

There never was a mole.

There never were codes that were being sent back and forth.

The course of the war wasn’t at stake.

She looked up.

"Ah, she figured it out. Didn’t you, sweetheart?" Hollins laughed. "Too late, though, my dear. Just as it was too late for Redding. After all, he was getting too close. He accidently took one of the wrong codes and then approached me about a new code, wondering why he wasn’t aware of it. Threatened to go above us, and finally took it to Wilkins. Poor fellow. Should have let well enough alone."

Wilkins smirked and patted Hollins on the back. "Now we will wait. The trap is set for the Wolf. He will not be able to escape this."

"No," Hollins agreed. "He will finally die as he was supposed to nine years ago."

Gwen closed her eyes and prayed that Hunter would never find her. She could not live with herself if something happened to him, and she would rather sacrifice her own life than see him lose his.

Chapter Thirty

Red—

For you, I would beg. For you, I would plead. For you, I would sell my soul. If only it meant that I would have you in the warmth of my arms. If only it meant that I could keep you safe from the evil of this world.

—Wolf

Hunter barged into his grandfather’s house and took the steps two at a time. It was early, but he did not care. He’d wake Lainhart up. He’d wake the whole blasted city of London if he had to.

"Grandfather, I—" He pushed through the room and saw Lainhart sitting in his bed, reading by candlelight. His eyes flickered to Hunter’s hand where he clenched the note then back to Hunter’s face, and then he pointed down and shook his head back and forth.

"N-n-o."

"Someone has taken her." Hunter paced in front of Lainhart. "They broke into my home not but an hour ago. My wall now bears the mark of Traitor in blood red. And they left this where she was lying down."

He put the note into Lainhart’s hands and waited.

Lainhart examined the note for some time and then smiled.

Why the devil was he smiling?

He pointed to his chalkboard and wrote the word Easy.

Well, at least Hunter had that going for him.

Lainhart focused hard on the chalkboard and shook his head then pointed to his empty water glass.

"Water?" Hunter looked at the glass. "You need water to work?"

Lainhart pointed his finger up.

Hunter left and within minutes quickly returned, to find that Lainhart had already decoded part of the address.

After several more minutes, while Hunter was sure his heart slowly died with each passing breath, Lainhart held up his chalkboard.

"Impossible." Hunter shook his head. "No, you see that is impossible."