A PEONY IN A TOMATO PATCH
1902—New York
Lies. Viola knew that the words coming from Nibsy’s mouth were as foul and polluted as the muck that flowed in the sewer, and now that she had Libitina in her hands once more, she would show him what she thought of his lies. She began to unwrap the comforting weight of the knife when, from the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of pink that was utterly out of place in the dreary, sooty air of the Bowery.
She should have known that the girl wasn’t going to listen to her and go back uptown, where she belonged. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find Ruby there, craning her neck to see what was happening with the fire and looking every bit like a peony in a tomato patch.
Ruby was too engrossed in trying to see what was happening, but from the look of concentration and worry on Theo’s face, he had realized that the crowd’s mood was turning now that the steady stream of water was beginning to extinguish the blaze. With their source of entertainment dying, they were beginning to grow restless and rowdy.
Viola’s instinct was to go to them. Neither of them belonged in the rough world of lower Manhattan, not like she did. But there was Nibsy to think of, and her revenge was so close she could taste the sweetness of it in the back of her throat.
Torn, Viola turned back to Nibsy, only to find that the rat was no longer there. She saw him, already a ways off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving the red-haired boy prone on the ground. Dolph would never have done such a thing.
But the boy wasn’t her concern. He’d cast his lot when he’d started the fire.
Instead of going for him, she headed toward where Ruby and Theo were being jostled by the increasingly restless crowd. She was nearly to them when she saw that just beyond Ruby, her brother was heading in her direction. And he had John Torrio with him.
Viola could see what would happen—Torrio would catch sight of Theo, thinking he was Reynolds, and he would know that she had not killed the reporter. It would not matter that Theo hadn’t ever been the target. All that would matter was that he would be proof that Viola had betrayed her charge, and more, she’d stopped Torrio from completing the job. If Torrio saw Theo and Ruby, if he realized what Viola had—or rather, had not—done, she’d be dead. And what’s more, Theo and Ruby would both be dead, as well.
Waving her arms, Viola ran toward her brother and Torrio, trying to draw their attention so they would not turn slightly to the left and notice Ruby, pink and petaled as a flower. Because they would not fail to see her, not with how polished and delicate she looked amid the toughs of the Bowery.
“Paolo!” she called, desperate to reach him, but they were both searching the crowd, not hearing her. She shouted again, her voice clawing from her throat as he moved closer to where Ruby and Theo stood watching the fire.
Finally, Paul noticed her, and then Torrio did as well. When they saw Viola, they turned away from their original path—the one that would have taken them to Ruby—and came toward Viola instead.
“What is it?” Paul asked, his expression conveying his disappointment that she didn’t have the culprit in hand.
“The one who did this, he’s there, on the ground,” she told him, pointing to the spot where the boy still lay, unconscious from her magic. “A red-haired boy, maybe fifteen years old. One of Nibsy Lorcan’s boys.”
“One of Lorcan’s?” Paul asked, his expression filled with suspicion. “Are you sure?”
Viola nodded, keeping her expression steady even as she let her affinity unfurl to find Ruby’s now-familiar heartbeat in the crowd. When she found it, steady and calm, she knew the girl was still safe—for the moment, at least.
Paul glanced at Torrio, sharing some unspoken communication between them before he turned back to her. “Did you take care of him?”
“Better,” she told Paul. “I left him for you. A gift for Tammany,” she explained.
“That wasn’t what you were told to do,” Paul said. “I told you to kill him.”
“Killing him is no good. Think of it,” she argued, before he could interrupt again. “If I killed him, what proof do you have that you’ve caught the one responsible? You can’t tell if a dead man is Mageus. You can’t ask him why he attacked or who he worked for. This way, you have the boy—you have evidence,” she said. Which means that you have proof that Nibsy is not to be trusted. “Take him to Tammany and give them the favor of dealing with him themselves. They’ll thank you for it.”
Torrio was eyeing her suspiciously, but she didn’t give him so much as a glance. Whatever Paul might want for the two of them, Viola wasn’t interested.
Before Paul could agree or argue, Viola sensed the fluttering of Ruby’s heart. The steady rhythm gave way to a more rapid beat, and Viola knew something was happening. “Quickly!” she shouted, pointing in the direction she’d left the boy.
Her actions had their intended effect. Paul and Torrio turned, almost as one, and the second their attention was diverted, she darted into the crowd to look for the birdbrained girl who was about to get herself killed.