The Wolf's Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(63)

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."

Lainhart pointed down and shook his head slowly.

"But…" Hunter examined the numbers and street name again. "This is Wilkins' house, this is part of the War Office headquarters."

Lainhart nodded slowly and then moaned. With great effort he opened his mouth and said, "L-lucy K-kill." He took another deep breath, his face turning red from exertion. "K-k-iller."

Hunter's mind reeled back to the original meeting with Lainhart, and then to the packet of information he had been given about all of the men who used to work for Lainhart, including Wilkins.

"Lucy's killer took Gwen?"

Lainhart gave a curt nod and pointed to the address again.

Hunter's hands began to shake as he noticed the time. It was a twenty-minute ride, pushing his horse the whole way to Wilkins' house. What if he couldn't make it in time before they killed her? What if history would indeed repeat?

He did not even thank his grandfather. He simply ran out of the house and jumped onto his horse. Not caring that he was riding dangerously fast toward the other side of town, but needing to get there before it was too late.

After seventeen minutes of heavy riding, sweat poured from his face. One minute, he had one minute. And then the town clocks began to chime.

"Please, please let me be there in time," he begged.

The house came into view just as the clocks struck seven. A gunshot went off in the house as he ran up the stairs and burst into the room.

Wilkins and Hollins sat calmly near the fireplace. Gwen was tied to a chair, tears streaming down her face. A gag had been stuffed into her mouth, but she did not seem harmed. He could not bring himself to do anything except stare at her. Was it a figment of his imagination or was she truly alive?

She nodded to him. Anger poured through him as his eyes took in her red dress. A mockery. They were making a mockery of her.

He cursed and turned hate-filled eyes to Wilkins and Hollins.

"Bravo!" Wilkins clapped. "Truly better than watching a play. You should have seen your face the moment you barged in here. I thought the gunshot was a great effect, didn't you, Hollins?"

Hollins laughed. "Agreed. Now tell us, Hunter, what was your plan? Save the day as always? Become a war hero?"

Hunter's hand flinched by his side. He clenched his fists to keep from charging the men, especially considering they were both armed. "No, I was simply planning on rescuing the fair maiden."