Chapter 16 – Good For You, Barney

Jakub took a deep breath, wrapped his finger around the trigger, and squeezed.

The butt of the rifle rocked against his shoulder with the brunt of the shot. A dozen meters away, the right rear wheel exploded off the axle of a racing armored car, sending it careening wildly back and forth across the northbound I-87. It rocked against the stony embankment, and as the driver overcorrected, it turned into the oncoming lane, spun, and at last crashed onto its side in the middle of the street.

Barney clapped him on the back. “Nice shot,” he said, and then he waved to the rest of their crew, leading them away from the tree line.

Jakub shouldered his rifle and followed him down the slope to the road. The intel had been good: two armored cars from the same bank taking different routes to Albany, passing through a relatively empty stretch of interstate just after dark. It hadn’t been difficult to pick a spot along the road outside Tillson to wait, with trees on either side to disguise any commotion from the attack. Jakub stood back, watching Barney and the rest of Kozlow swarm over the downed vehicle. Two men Jakub didn’t recognize held the guards at gunpoint while the rest opened up the rear. There were several he didn’t recognize, he realized, helping drag sacks over to their trucks.

“Don’t move!” one of the men shouted in Polish. He pointed his revolver at the guards through the partially shattered windshield. “I said don’t fucking move!”

He was young and inexperienced—his finger was already curling over the trigger. Jakub hurried over, his stomach clenched in warning. “Hey,” he called, and when he got close enough he grabbed the man’s wrist with his metal hand to urge his aim away. “Calm down.”

“Don’t fucking touch—” the man started to say, but when he looked at Jakub’s hand, and then his face, he went quiet. “Sorry, sir.”

Jakub let him go. “We don’t kill cops,” he told him. “It’s too much trouble. Stay cool.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jakub backed away so he could keep an eye on the scene as they continued. The guards inside the car were bruised, one still trapped by his seatbelt and the other pressed back against his seat, watching them grimly. Jakub hefted his rifle and trusted that was enough to keep them docile until the rest of the bags were loaded.

Barney joined him, gun in his hand and looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Problem?” he asked.

“Who are these boys?” asked Jakub in English. “I haven’t seen them before.”

“They’re from Chicago. O’Shea sent them out.” Barney pulled a cigarette out of his jacket. “They’re a little rough, but they’re motivated, and we can use the extra manpower. And firepower.” He eyed Jakub’s rifle as he lit his cigarette. “You made that, right?”

Jakub shifted the weight against his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“Can you make me one?”

“No.”

Barney scoffed. “C’mon, Jake, why not?”

Jakub motioned for him to hand over the cigarette, which he did. “Why do you want one?” he asked, and he took a drag.

“Because it’s really fucking useful, that’s why.” Barney gestured for his cig back. “A few of those and we won’t even need Bloom anymore.”

Jakub frowned as he handed it over. “He’s not just a stick of dynamite,” he said. “He’s smart and we can’t handle Manhattan without him. We wouldn’t have this intel if not for him.”

“Yeah, I know.” Barney rolled his eyes as he took a long drag. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They climbed into the trucks and sped off, back toward the city.

***

Miles away and across the river, Cheshire’s palms itched as all four wheels burst off the second armored car with roars of fire.

“Whoo!” Herb cheered, and he slapped Cheshire on the back hard enough that he nearly lost his footing. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if that’s not the damnedest thing. Well done.”

The armored car skidded to a grinding, sparking halt. “It’s all in the wrist,” Cheshire bragged as the pair of them stepped out of the treeline. “And you thought I was a liar, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Herb said, laughing. “I really did. Never seen real magic before.” He motioned to his Manhattan crew members, who surrounded the armored car with guns drawn. “Knew an old woman who could sing out her ears. She was a walking quartet.”

“Quartet is four,” said Cheshire, keeping to the back of the truck. There were plenty of Manhattanites wearing handkerchiefs over their mouths to anonymously threaten the drivers; no point in him getting identified. “Unless she had three ears?”

“Don’t get smart with me, Chesh, you know what I mean.” Herb slapped the back of the car. “If you please.”

Cheshire blew the lock and only then realized that Herb was watching his face very closely. Lucky must have told him about what she saw in the car, he thought, trying not to let any trepidation into his expression. Sorry to disappoint. He tucked his hands into his pockets, even though his usual gloves were snug in place to cover his brands.

“Beautiful,” said Herb, but there was a slyness to his tone that Cheshire didn’t like, either. He flung the rear door open and then stepped back so his crew could begin unloading the bags. “You can blow up anything you want?”

“Just about,” Cheshire replied, shrugging noncommittally.

“How about the side mirror?” Herb gestured back toward the front of the car. “Blow it up.”

Cheshire pulled a face. “What for?”

Herb rolled his eyes. “Because I said so,” he retorted, but when Cheshire shot him another look, he took another stab at it. “Because I’m daring you to. I dare you to blow up the side mirror.” He gestured again, and a few of the men doing the unloading hesitated, eager to see.

“No, I’m not blowing up the mirror,” Cheshire scolded, and with disappointment the men got back to work. “Herb, it’s not a party trick.”

“Oh. Well.” Herb gave a great shrug. “If you can’t, I understand.”

Cheshire laughed, hoping to dispel the honest tension that was beginning to tighten his chest. “You don’t really think I’m going to fall for that, do you?”

“Fucking spoil sport is what you are,” Herb grumbled. He grabbed two bags from the back of the car and hoisted one to each shoulder, showing off more than was necessary as he carried them back to the truck. “Go on—make yourself useful.” Cheshire rolled his eyes, but he joined in, following Herb’s example of carrying two at time even if his back wasn’t as up to it as his bravado.

Once the bags were loaded and the guards lashed to the steering wheel of the armored car, Cheshire piled into Herb’s Model A with him, and they sped back toward the city. Herb apparently couldn’t help but raise the topic again. “What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever blown up?” he asked. “C’mon, tell me.”

“Um…” Shane Foley, Cheshire thought unwittingly, and he swallowed back a taste of bile. “An oil drum, maybe?”

“Not the Foleys?” said Herb, and Cheshire went cold. “I was under the impression you were responsible for the steel plant back in the day.”

Cheshire relaxed with a nervous chuckle. “Oh! Yeah, I guess so.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But that wasn’t the whole building at once—I just started the fire by blowing a few little things at a time.”

“But could you have blown the whole building at once?” Herb continued to press, way too eager for Cheshire’s liking. “You could have, right?”

Cheshire tugged his glasses off to clean them with his necktie. “That would be a waste of a building.”

“Fuck you, dodgey Danny, I want to know if you could.” Herb smacked his shoulder with the back of his palm. “I’d pay to see it, I’ll tell you that.”

“You can’t afford me,” Cheshire retorted, but that only made Herb laugh uproariously.

“I can buy you twelve times over,” Herb said, and he

flashed Cheshire a grin with teeth. “Don’t forget it.”

Cheshire laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. He slid his glasses back on. “Sure, Herb. Sure.”

He endured Herb’s teasing all the way back to Manhattan.

***

The two gangs reconnected in the basement of the Four Thrones hotel that served as Lucky’s base. Jakub stayed with Gertie and the money while Barney and Hannah headed straight upstairs. Though he didn’t like the idea of Barney set loose with Herb and Cheshire, he liked the idea of brand new help counting the money even less. Herb’s grim-faced enforcer Nicole was overseeing the operation, and he worried how she might respond to a trigger-happy kid from Chicago sneaking bills into his pocket. So he prowled the lines, no longer needing the rifle at his shoulder as deterrent as he kept everyone on task.

With the take evenly divided fifty-fifty and Kozlow’s half loaded, Jakub finally ventured upstairs. He didn’t know what to expect, and he couldn’t help but cringe when the first thing he heard was Herb and Cheshire each laughing uproariously. He followed the sound to the hotel’s first floor bar, and there paused: they were both seated at the bar as he expected, but they had Barney between them, and they were pounding the bar with their palms. As Jakub watched, Barney made a mighty face of disgust, and then leaned back to down whatever shot had been in front of him in one breath. His enablers hooted and cheered.

“That’s more like it!” crowed Herb, and he slapped Barney on the back so hard he had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from spitting his drink up. That only made them laugh harder, and to Jakub’s amazement, when Barney straightened up, he laughed, too.

What the hell? Jakub thought, and when he spotted Hannah seated with Camila at a nearby table, he shot her a look to convey the same. She had a drink in front of her as well, though untouched, and she motioned him over.

“Hannah,” Jakub greeted, hoping his full concern didn’t show through given the company. “Ms. Reynoso. The take is all set.”

“Thank you,” Camila said, spinning a cherry around in her drink. “Is it very good?”

“Best in a while,” Jakub admitted. He couldn’t help looking back to the three at the bar, and what appeared to be a very animated discussion of pretzels.

“Plenty of reason to celebrate, then,” said Hannah, and she cast a significant glance at the bar as well. Jakub got the impression she wasn’t sure how much to say in front of Camila. “I’m glad both sides went down without a hitch.”

“So am I,” said Camila. If she was aware of their concern, she didn’t show it. She continued to stir her drink. “Sounds like Kozlow’s share will be enough for whatever it is you plan on using it for.”

Hannah took a diplomatic sip of her brandy. “I’m sure it will be.”

“No, no, you’re fucking dumb,” Barney said loudly from the bar, and Jakub tensed. “It’s supposed to be round!” He was waving a pretzel around animatedly while Herb and Cheshire laughed. “Look! Look! I’ll fucking show you.”

“I’m going to find out what they’re talking about,” said Jakub, and Hannah nodded, grateful. Camila smiled a little as she finally plucked her cherry off the stem.

By the time Jakub reached the trio at the bar, Barney had torn off pieces of the pretzel to make it into an empty ring, as much as he could given its twisted shape. “Like this,” he said emphatically.

“That’s not round, you dumb fuck,” said Herb jovially as he stole the shredded pieces. “It’s more like a bean.”

“It’s just an example, asshole,” Barney shot back. “It’s

supposed to be round. Polish pretzels are round.”

Cheshire leaned his jaw against his palm. Jakub wasn’t sure what to make of his expression—there was definitely tension beneath his usual smile, a struggle against the effects of the alcohol. “How would you know?” he prodded Barney. “You’ve never been to Poland, you’re as much a yank as either of us.”

He noticed Jakub then, and his face lit up with a grin. “Jakub! Come here!” As happy as it made Jakub, he couldn’t help the clammy feeling that crept up his back as Cheshire grabbed him by the belt to reel him in. Herb and Barney were too close, watching too carefully; fearful of their attention, Jakub pushed Cheshire’s hand off him. The momentary flash of confusion and hurt that creased Cheshire’s brow made his stomach squirm.

“What are you arguing about?” Jakub asked, and he was relieved when Cheshire sat up a little straighter, as if having realized at last how intoxicated he was.

“Your boss here is a liar and a fake,” said Herb through mouthfuls of pretzel, and Jakub tensed again, expecting a surge of temper from Barney.

But Barney only rolled his eyes and tore off another chunk to throw at him. It bounced off Herb’s chest and into his lap. “It’s not my fault you don’t know anything about anything, fucking Americans.”

“Jakub can tell us, then,” said Cheshire. “He’s more Polish than you.”

He snuck a hand up to pinch Jakub’s ass; Jakub managed not to startle, and he smacked Cheshire’s hand away as discreetly as possible. Maybe Cheshire thought he was being more covert, but Hannah and Camila were certainly still watching. “If you’re talking about obwarzanek, yeah, it’s round.”

“See?” Barney said triumphantly. He shook the rest of his pretzel at Cheshire. “What do you know? You can’t even say his name right.”

Cheshire glanced between them in confusion. “That’s not important,” Jakub said quickly.

“It’s not Jakub, it’s pronounced Yakoop,” Barney said, as if he were imparting grave knowledge. “You do it wrong.”

“You do it wrong,” Cheshire shot back, though his face was red. “You called him ‘Jake’ five minutes ago!”

“Does that mean it’s Yake?” asked Herb, hunting for the pretzel that had fallen to his lap.

“It’s Jakub,” Jakub insisted firmly, so much so that Barney flinched. “Like everyone has always called me, including you. It’s what I prefer.”

Barney flushed. “Fine, whatever, I was just saying,” he grumbled.

“Ha! He sure showed you.” Herb laughed and then tossed the reclaimed pretzel chunk in his direction. “Like I said—”

The piece landed in Cheshire’s glass, which apparently was hilarious, because Herb burst out laughing. Even Barney choked on a snort. Cheshire made a face at them before rallying his better humor. “What? Like I’m gonna let it go to waste?” he said, and he grabbed the glass up. Before Jakub could voice a word of warning, he downed its contents, pretzel and all.

“Ew, fuck, that was in his lap,” Barney whined.

Herb chortled drunkenly. “Pretzels need cheese,” he said, and he and Barney burst out laughing again as Cheshire snorted and choked.

“Hell, did you have to say that?” Cheshire said while mopping his face with a napkin. But by then Herb had already leaned closer to Barney and was whispering something in his ear. Whatever it was almost had Barney in stitches, and they rocked on the bar stools, cackling like children.

Jakub seethed. Even though Cheshire laughed along with them, something in their tones had changed, and he couldn’t stand the thought that Cheshire was being made fun of. “The truck is loaded,” he said, struggling to be heard. “We can head back whenever you’re ready, Barney.”

“Sure, sure.” He slumped off his stool and had to brace both hands to the bar to get fully upright. He cast Herb a crooked smirk. “You know that’s true, though, right?” he said, with a nod toward Cheshire that had Jakub’s blood boiling again.

“Oh, I believe it,” said Herb lazily. “Thanks for the education.”

Barney moved away from the bar, and thankfully Hannah was soon there to collect him. Jakub hesitated; he didn’t want to leave Cheshire alone with Herb. “You coming, Bloom? We can drop you off, if you can’t drive.”

“Oh.” Cheshire glanced between him and Barney and frowned. “Naw. Eggy will take me.”

“Burke’s not here,” Jakub reminded him. He took Cheshire’s elbow. “It’s on the way, so—”

“It’s fine,” said Cheshire, and he tugged his arm free. His expression then drooped guiltily. “Really? Have I been saying it wrong all this time?”

“No,” Jakub said immediately. He glanced to Herb, who licked his thumb and then pressed it to the bar, collecting pretzel salt. He pulled a face. “No, don’t worry about it.”

“But was he right?” Cheshire pressed, with greater seriousness. “That I—”

“No. Just…come here.” Jakub took Cheshire’s arm again and pulled him off his stool. Despite previous appearances Cheshire had no trouble standing or following him a few steps away. Maybe he hadn’t had that much to drink after all. “I’ve gone by Jakub since I came here,” Jakub explained, the words much easier without an audience. “It was…easier. I wanted to fit in. Even Hannah pronounces it that way—you’ve heard her.”

“Yeah, I know, which is why…” Cheshire rubbed his face with both hands. “But Barney said—”

“Don’t listen to Barney—I’m telling you, it’s fine.” Jakub noticed Barney glancing their way at the sound of his name, so he took a breath and tried again in a more even tone. “It’s fine. It’s just a name—Jay, Jake, whatever. Okay?”

“Okay.” Cheshire shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “Sure. Sorry.”

Jakub frowned and started to tell him not to apologize, but he was interrupted by a wide hand clamping down on his shoulder. He tensed and had to remind himself not to elbow Herb in the gut as he leaned over him.

“Don’t worry, Freckles,” he said, breath smelling of booze. “One’a my boys will see him safely home. He doesn’t need a bodyguard here.”

Jakub clenched his fists, but he was at a loss to get Cheshire away from Herb in a way that didn’t seem too desperate or too paranoid. What if Herb had seen Cheshire being handsy— what if he thought too much of it, after the dinner they’d had at the Olivier? It was too hard to puzzle through when Cheshire wasn’t any help. “Fine,” he said, wanting to be out from under Herb’s grip as soon as he could. “Call me tomorrow,” he told Cheshire. “We can talk about where the take is going.”

“Sure,” replied Cheshire, and he did seem to perk up a bit. “Have a good night, Jake.”

He frowned then, as if chewing over the name, so Jakub nodded to reassure him. “Good night,” he said, but it wasn’t until he had taken a step and a half that Herb finally let him go. He resisted the temptation to straighten his jacket as he joined Hannah and Barney heading for the exit.

“Bunch of assholes, aren’t they?” Barney said as they stepped out into the night air. He pushed his cap up so he could smooth his hair back. “Masterson thinks he’s real fucking funny.”

“You were laughing,” Jakub replied. “I didn’t think I’d ever see the three of you sharing a drink.”

“Hannah and I talked about it,” said Barney, but the expression on Hannah’s face suggested otherwise. “If I want Masterson to see me as a threat, he’s gotta see me as a friend first.”

“That’s not what we talked about,” Hannah confirmed. “Well,             close    enough,    whatever.”    Barney    waved dismissively as they approached the waiting trucks. A few of the crew had already left in cars to prepare the Kozlow building for the incoming take, and the three of them climbed up into the cab of one truck while Gertie and Stas took the other. “The point is, we didn’t need his help tonight,” Barney continued as Hannah took the wheel. “And I know that, and he knows that, and that’s how it should be.”

“It was still their intel and their turf,” Jakub reminded him, but then he paused. If this is ever going to work, maybe…a new tactic. “I’m glad you were getting along with Masterson, though. You’re the boss’s son, you should be involved in everything.”

“Right? Right!” Barney nodded vigorously. “Exactly. ‘Cause I’ll be boss someday.”

“Right,” said Hannah. She still looked uneasy as she started the truck, but she seemed to understand Jakub’s direction. “You need to be at that table, whatever the discussion is. Celebrating together is a good start. It shows you contributed just as much.”

“Right! Right?” Barney nodded some more, but then he seemed to regret it, as he gave his eyes a rub and then leaned back in the seat. “They’ll learn,” he mumbled, and he tugged his hat down over his face. “Lemme know when we’re back.”

Barney settled in. Hannah fell quiet, but she did look to Jakub and mouthed thank you. He nodded back, even if he wanted nothing more than to turn the truck around and throw Cheshire into the back to drag home with them.

He can’t cozy up with Masterson at Chesh’s expense, he thought determinedly. That won’t work, either.

***

Herb didn’t have his boys drive Cheshire home. After another drink, he insisted Cheshire spend the night at the hotel. “I convinced your friend to sing for us,” Herb said as he let them into a cozy room on the second floor. “Her and her band—they’re gonna come to a little party we’re throwing come October. You’ll be there.”

“Oh?” Cheshire followed him in. It wasn’t one of the nicer rooms he was sure Herb had at his disposal, but it wasn’t the cheapest, either. “Maybe I have plans.”

“It’s like two months from now—you don’t have plans.” Herb gestured to the room. “It’s a peach, ain’t it?”

“Peachy.” Cheshire thumped down on the bed and kicked his shoes off. “Thanks, Herb.”

“It’ll be a masquerade,” Herb carried on. Apparently he wasn’t leaving yet. “That’s fun, right? Weird rich folk shit. Right up your alley.”

Cheshire couldn’t help his prickle of interest. “Costumes?”

“Yeah—Halloween stuff.” Herb gave a great, huffing snort of laughter. “Perfect for a witch like you, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Cheshire unbuttoned his jacket, but he suddenly didn’t like the way Herb was still hanging around, and he didn’t go any further. “I’ll dust off my pointy hat and broom.”

“That’s the spirit.” Herb continued to stare at him. “Hey. What’s the biggest thing you ever blew up?”

“Oil barrel—no, the—didn’t we have this conversation already?” Cheshire looked up, and he definitely didn’t like the way Herb was eyeing him then. “What?”

“What about the nastiest?” Herb pressured him, and though he hadn’t moved a step closer, Cheshire felt as if the man were looming over him. “You have to have used that on a human at some point.”

Cheshire’s skin crawled. “It doesn’t work on people,” he said, letting a note of seriousness into his voice. “So don’t ask.”

“So this wasn’t you?” Herb challenged, pointing to the inside of his bicep. “I don’t get to thank you for this very manly scar?”

“That was different.”

“You’re sure?” Herb did move closer then, and Cheshire stood up just to avoid being completely boxed in. He was still smirking, but with all the affability of a cocked hammer. “Come on, Cheshire Bloom. Camila told me about your little light show.” He waved his hand in Cheshire’s face; Cheshire leaned back, his shoulders inching up. “Let me see.”

“You asking me to turn you into powder, Herb?” Cheshire retorted. He tried to match Herb’s twisted grin. “‘Cause you’re really tempting me here.”

“Oh, wow, sounds like you really mean it.” Herb laughed. “Come on, I’m serious, I want to see.” He gestured to the room around them. “Pick something—blow it up. I’ll pay for it.” He scoffed. “There’s even a bible in the bedside, if you want to give a fuck you to the man upstairs, huh?”

He reached around Cheshire as if to open the drawer next to the bed. The close quarters unnerved him, but not nearly so much as the words; after meeting Emma, Cheshire couldn’t help but fear that “the man upstairs” wasn’t nearly as far away as he’d once seemed. In a moment of thoughtless anxiety he braced his palm to Herb’s chest and shoved him back, with enough force that both had to struggle to keep their balance.

“Drop it already,” Cheshire snapped. “I’m not your dancing monkey.”

“Fuck, hell, calm down.” Herb reared back and laughed scornfully. “I’m just joking, jeez. Don’t take it so personally.” He shoved back; Cheshire wasn’t as prepared as usual, and he fell back against the nightstand, rattling the lamp there. “Go to sleep, kid, it’s been a busy day,” Herb said, still laughing, as he headed for the door.

Cheshire forced a weak chuckle. “G’night, asshole,” he called after him. He waited until Herb had closed the door behind him to move.

What am I even doing here? Cheshire thought as he flopped onto the bed. He dragged the pillow to his chest and buried his face in it. This is so stupid.

Cheshire reached out blindly for the phone and managed to drag it closer, knocking the bedside lamp to the floor in the process. He cringed at the noise but didn’t bother checking to see if the bulb had broken. It wasn’t until he was halfway through dialing Jakub’s number that he remembered he was probably still driving with Hannah and Barney. He considered calling Burke, but he honestly didn’t know what time it was, or if Burke would be at his apartment or working at the Morey. The thought of having to explain that he needed a ride home because Herb was a big meanie wasn’t all that appealing, anyway.

Just go to sleep, Cheshire thought, squirming deeper into his pillow. And leave early. But he couldn’t bring himself to stay any longer, so with grumbled curses he dragged himself out of bed, scooped up his shoes, and left.

***

Jakub was exhausted by the time they reached the Kozlow building, but he still helped to unload their take. Burke joined them, eager to know the totals for the books. He didn’t carry any bags, but he took notes, chatting all the while.

“Coppers were here not ten minutes ago,” he said as he scribbled numbers into his notebook. “I told them to fuck off, a’course. Sure they paid Bloom a visit, too, or tried to.”

“Bloom’s still in Manhattan,” Jakub said, as frustrating as that was.

Barney scoffed as if agreeing with him somehow. “Maybe that marshal will pay them a visit, catch them together.”

“You’d better hope they don’t,” Burke shot back, saving

Jakub from saying too much. “‘Cause Masterson would roll over on you in a heartbeat. He’s one helluva sore loser.”

“Masterson and I…” Barney smothered a yawn against the back of his hand as he dragged the corner of a tarp over the boxes they’d hidden the take in. “Fuck. Masterson and I are very chummy now. He says one word and he’s a bastard.”

Jakub finished stapling up another box and dragged a tarp over it. Though the smarter move would have been to retreat to his apartment, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What were you two whispering about back at the bar?”

“Huh? Oh!” Barney laughed as they all headed for the stairs. “The way Bloom slammed that shot,” he said, sniggering. “Herb, that asshole, he said, ‘he sure knows how to…’”

Barney paused then, and he stared Jakub hard in the face as if realizing for the first time who he was talking to. A look of guilt twisted his brow and he waved Jakub off. “Nothing. Sorry, it was stupid.”

“Tell me,” Jakub said, but Barney only winced harder, and suddenly Hannah appeared behind them. She began pushing Barney faster up the stairs.

“It can wait until morning,” she said, and Jakub leaned out of the way so she and Barney could continue on ahead. “Good work tonight, Jakub.”

“Sure,” muttered Jakub. “Goodnight.” He waited until they were a few steps ahead and then continued, Burke close behind.

“Missed something, didn’t I?” asked Burke. “What did Masterson say?”

“Nothing.” Jakub raked his fingers through his hair.

“Forget it.”

Jakub grabbed his rifle from the car and marched up to his apartment. Too tired for much more effort than that, he kicked off his boots and went straight to his bed. Next time I see Masterson, I’ll knock his teeth in, he thought, and he was very pleased with the visual as he drifted off to sleep.

Minutes later, something tapped Jakub’s window. He grumbled and turned away, thinking it was a pigeon or a stray cat, but then the tapping became insistent. He rolled over, and a glance at the window sent his exhaustion scattering: Cheshire was crouched on the fire escape.

Jakub clawed out of bed and hurried over. “What—” He bit his tongue as he unlocked the window and shoved it open. “What the hell are you doing out there?” he hissed, though his heart was pounding and his cheeks already flushed.

“Hey.” Cheshire smiled crookedly. “Can I come in?”

Jakub huffed and helped him through. “How did you get here?” he demanded as quietly as he could manage. “Did you drive yourself? You shouldn’t have after how drunk—”

“I’m not drunk.” Cheshire was all smiles as he pulled himself upright in Jakub’s apartment. “Ahh, still smells like you in here.”

Jakub flushed darker and closed the window behind him. “Chesh,” he tried again, but then he noticed that Cheshire had his shoes in his hand as he headed for the bed. “Why aren’t you wearing your shoes?”

“Hm?” Cheshire glanced down as if only then realizing. “Oh. ‘Cause it’s more sneaky?” He dropped the shoes to the floor and winked.

Jakub sighed, but he was so pleased that Cheshire was there that the hows and whys ceased mattering very quickly. He rejoined Cheshire and helped him out of his jacket. “Okay, well, keep being sneaky then,” he said. He dropped Cheshire’s jacket and then loosened his tie while Cheshire unbuttoned his cuffs, quickly putting their arms in a tangle. “It’ll be hard to explain if someone finds you here.”

“I know, I know.” Cheshire finished with the buttons but then gave up on the shirt and instead cupped Jakub’s face in his palms. “I wanted to be here, though.”

Jakub stopped, his heart fluttering all over again as he stared up into Cheshire’s weary eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” Cheshire lied. His smile dug deeper into his cheeks. “You’re really okay with Jakub, right?”

Jakub sighed again. “Yes,” he said firmly, taking Cheshire’s wrists to squeeze the seriousness into him. “I don’t…” He chewed on the words a while before he could get them out. He knows you better than anyone, so just say it. “No one’s pronounced it the Polish way since I left Europe. And I like it that way, it feels…new. I needed to feel new when I got here.” He squeezed Cheshire’s wrists again, for his own sake that time. “So don’t change anything.”

“Okay,” said Cheshire, and his expression relaxed with understanding, more so than Jakub expected. “Good. I was worried.” He glanced away. “I was just thinking on the way over…I wouldn’t want anyone to call me something else. You know?”

“I would have told you the first time we met,” Jakub insisted. “I almost told you to fuck off as it was.”

Cheshire chuckled at that. “Yeah, you weren’t shy. Gosh, that was a long time ago now, huh?” He moved his thumbs against Jakub’s cheeks. “Look at all the freckles you’ve gotten since then.”

Jakub gulped, and without thinking he rose up on his toes to steal a kiss. Cheshire was caught off guard at first, but he soon rallied himself, leaning into it. Jakub shivered. Has it really been that long? he thought. It feels like it was just yesterday that he first made me feel this way…

Cheshire pulled back, and suddenly he seemed hesitant. “Okay,” he said, shifting his weight back and forth. “Sorry I woke you up—I just wanted to be sure.” He let Jakub go and started to turn toward the window. “I’ll let you get back—”

Jakub snatched his arm to stop him. “You’re leaving?”

Cheshire shrugged. It wasn’t like him to look so uncertain. “I don’t want to get you in trouble,” he said. “Or, you know. Bother you.”

“Bother me?” Jakub scoffed. “When have you ever?”

Cheshire replied with a quiet chuckle, but his humor still seemed muted. “I dunno,” he admitted. “Have I?” Jakub was tempted to scoff again, but it began to sink in that beneath Cheshire’s half smile, he was being serious. There had been a handful of times since their date at the Olivier that he’d seen that doubt creep into Cheshire’s face. Whatever had caused it, it made his insides squirm.

“Stay,” said Jakub, figuring that was the most direct way to reassure him. He tugged Cheshire toward the bed. “I want you to.”

Cheshire resisted a beat longer, but one more tug from Jakub convinced him. With a relieved smile he allowed Jakub to drag him down to the bed. Tired as they were, they didn’t make it all the way out of their clothes, but they curled up together and were soon asleep.

***

Just before dawn, Cheshire beat a hasty retreat back out the window. He seemed to take entirely too much enjoyment out of it, threatening to call Jakub “Juliet” from then on. Jakub’s exasperated glare put a quick end to that.

Once the rest of the building had roused, Jakub joined Burke and Barney in the diner across the street for breakfast. Despite his behavior the night before, Barney was full of energy. “I’m gonna take a chunk of that money from last night and invest,” he said while pouring sugar into his coffee. “Invest in intel. That’s what we really need, right? We need to know where to hit, and we gotta have the manpower to do it.”

“Sorry, I’m glad ye’re feeling mighty motivated,” said Burke, “but these grand stage coach robberies ye’re so keen on aren’t all that necessary, are they? Kozlow has plenty of funds coming in these days.”

“Yeah, and after this next one, we can set our sights on better things,” Barney insisted. “You’ll see.”

“Better things like train robbery?” Burke pressed. “Didn’t that go really well the last time?”

Barney scowled at him, but then he walked himself back. “Yes, it did. That mail gave you your whole operation, didn’t it?”

“You know what he means,” Jakub cut in. “What exactly are you planning? Whatever it is, we need to go over every detail, so we’re not overstepping or missing anything.”

“We will, we will,” Barney reassured him. “Don’t worry.” He smirked into his mug. “You’ll see.”

***

The next two months passed in relative quiet. With the extra funds and muscle Kozlow had no problems keeping up the demand for liquor in the weakening grip of dry laws, and being an election year, they even funneled cash into the right pockets in hope of “reasonable” representatives landing the right offices. Jakub kept his head down for the most part, following Kasper’s orders when given and finding plenty of excuses to spend time across town.

“Is everything all right back home?” Cheshire asked one afternoon in mid October. They were perusing the shelves of a small costume shop, with racks of strange and ghoulish masks laid out for the upcoming holiday. “You’ve been spending a lot of time away from Kozlow.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in Manhattan,” Jakub replied. He grimaced at a saggy-faced clown mask and discreetly turned it away from him. “You’re getting along with Masterson?”

“Oh, sure. He thinks he’s gonna have me performing at birthday parties any day now.” Cheshire set a jester’s cap on his head and flashed Jakub a sarcastic grin. “Just like this.”

Jakub sighed and plucked the cap off to toss back on the shelf. “I know you know this, but he’s just using you.”

“I know you know that I know,” Cheshire retorted as he turned to continue on. “I’m being careful, believe me. He’s exhausting and kind of a ratfink, but he knows a good time.”

He picked up a small, black mask, dotted with fake gemstones and accented with a swoop of feathers. “Well?” he said, and he held the mask up to Jakub’s face. The backs of his knuckles brushed Jakub’s cheek. “This is more like you.”

Jakub peered back at him through the holes in the mask. He had the sudden thought of how relieving it could be to slip on better masks than this, to be anonymous for a while in the face of Kozlow, and Manhattan, and everything else. He could almost hear Cheshire thinking the same thing, and he reached up to take Cheshire’s wrist as if that would solidify the desire between them. But the moment his fingers made contact, Cheshire instead pulled back. He handed Jakub the mask and quickly turned to continue perusing. “Let’s see if we can find something to go with it,” he said.

Jakub frowned, but he followed. “Sure.”

***

The night of the “masquerade” Jakub prepared alone in his apartment. Thanks to Cheshire’s influence he was getting the hang of playing dress up, even if he still didn’t quite see the appeal. He donned his go-to black jacket over a white shirt, slicked his hair back, and pulled on a pair of gifted white gloves. Cheshire’s eye for fashion meant the fit was impeccable, but it still felt a little strange to cover the prosthetic. He poked at it through the glove and wondered if it would actually fool a stranger.

With his mask sticking out of his jacket pocket, and his revolver tucked discreetly in its shoulder holster, Jakub headed down to the lobby to meet the others. Hannah and Burke were already waiting in their outfits: Hannah in a simple gray suit as usual, but with her hair styled up in a bun, and a rabbit mask pushed back from her face; Burke in a garish, orange-striped suit coat and olive green pants. He was already wearing his mask, which looked like tree roots twisted into glasses, and tall antlers poking up from either side.

Jakub snorted quietly to himself as he joined them. “Cheshire’s going to have something to say about what you’re wearing,” he said.

“Has he ever not?” Burke retorted, hands going to his hips. “Well he can shut his trap, ‘cause it’s Halloween and I can be a pumpkin if I damn well want to.”

“Is that it?” Hannah asked, teasing him. “Why the antlers then?”

“No one would sell me a stem!” Burke retorted as if it were obvious. “It’s the best I could find—what of it?”

“It works,” Hannah reassured him, and it was a relief to see her smile. “No one will be able to say you copied them, that’s for sure.”

Burke eyed her as if he suspected sarcasm, but she didn’t crack, so he nodded. “Damn right.”

They were interrupted by a laugh from the direction of the stairs; Barney headed their way with a half dozen of Kozlow’s crew, old and new, bringing up the rear. All of them were dressed in simple, dark suits with some kind of mask, Barney himself carrying a droopy-eyed clown mask. It looked like the same one Jakub had passed in the costume shop earlier in the month, and he eyed it distastefully.

“Fuck, Burke, you’ve outdone yourself,” Barney said, giving Burke a pat on the shoulder as he passed. “Careful where you point those things.”

Burke brushed the shoulder of his coat off vigorously. “Make fun and every prong is going straight up your ass, one by one,” he shot back. “Mind yer manners.”

Barney scoffed, but he wasn’t quick enough to supply a comeback. The rest of the Kozlow crew exchanged looks, uncertain if they were meant to defend him, particularly Leon. Hannah rolled her eyes and motioned them all outside. “Just get in the cars,” she said, and everyone, even Barney and Burke, hurried to follow her.

Once they were out on the sidewalk, Hannah snagged hold of Jakub’s sleeve. “Ride with me,” she said. Though reluctant, Jakub nodded.

They climbed into Hannah’s car, and Burke, likely eager not to be alone with Barney and the others, helped himself to the back seat. “You tell him yet?” Burke asked as they pulled away from the curb, and Jakub prickled with apprehension.

Hannah took a deep breath before explaining. “Barney has a job lined up for tonight,” she said. “And it’s a good plan. There’s a small cargo ship docked at Pier 17—smugglers picking up a load headed down south was the intel we got.”

Jakub frowned as he recalled what he knew of the pier. “That’s barely ten minutes from the Thrones.”

“It’s good cover, right?” said Burke, leaning forward between the seats. “We show at the party, a few of us slip out, come back. Everyone in masks—what can the coppers do?”

“Does Lucky know? That’s her back yard.” Jakub turned toward him and almost took an antler to the eye.

Burke sheepishly pushed his mask and antlers back. “Boss says she does.”

Jakub looked to Hannah expectantly, who didn’t look much more confident than he felt in that answer. “Barney said he got the okay,” she confirmed. “It’ll be a short trip and only a few boxes. That pier hardly sees ships anymore, so it should be clean.”

“Should be,” Jakub echoed. “What about Bloom?”

“He sits out,” said Hannah.

“Better that way,” Burke added. “He’s Cheshire  Bloom, if he leaves that party, people will notice. It won’t just be us hoodlums there, you know.”

Jakub fingered the mask sticking out of his pocket. “I don’t like it,” he said. “And when we get there, I’m going to make sure Masterson knows about it.” Hannah and Burke exchanged a look, so he added, “We’re not going behind his back. We can’t afford to, you both know that—Barney needs to know that.”

“No, you’re right,” Hannah admitted, however unhappy about it she seemed. Her brow hardened. “And if he lied to us about them knowing, we need to know that.”

They arrived at the Four Thrones hotel just after nine in the evening. The streets were already congested with cars as guests disembarked on the sidewalks, dressed in their masquerade wear. Hannah drove past and parked a block over, where there was less visibility. As they walked back to the hotel, Jakub spotted Big Mitts and their crew entering ahead of them, and right behind them, Thea Hallorran and her date.

Following an impulse, Jakub picked up his pace and reached Hallorran just inside the hotel doors. “Oh, Mr. Danowicz!” she greeted happily, tipping up the brim of an oversized top hat to get a better look at him. She was dressed in a handsome, embroidered topcoat, her date in a dress fit for royalty. “It’s good to see you again. But where’s your charming friend?”

“Cheshire’s probably inside already,” said Jakub. “Then it’s sure to be a lively party.” Hallorran smirked and tipped her hat back down. “You’re doing well with my merchandise, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave his fingers a wiggle to prove it. Though maybe she wouldn’t be much impressed by his efforts to maintain her company’s brilliant work, he wanted to share his newfound confidence with someone who might understand. “I tuned it up this morning.”

Hallorran’s smile deepened with sincerity. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “You come back in if you need any work done, though. Tully is always glad to have you.”

“Thank you.” They exchanged nods, and Hallorran’s date smiled politely before the two women moved on.

“It looks like they’ve managed to pull in quite a crowd,” said Hannah as she and Burke caught up. They moved deeper into the hotel, following the casual flow of Manhattan’s elite and its underbelly heading for the main ballroom.

“They had better,” replied Burke. “We’ve been greasing a lot of palms lately.” He nodded ahead of them to where the city treasurer was leading his wife into the ballroom.

Would Masterson have invited all of them here, knowing Barney plans on using them as cover for a robbery? Jakub wondered as they continued toward the open doors. He frowned. Actually, he probably would.

They stepped inside, and despite the many real concerns swirling his brain, Jakub found himself put on edge by the spectacle itself. The ballroom wasn’t Manhattan’s largest by far, but it was packed, with people milling about around every tall table and hob-nobbing in every available space. The decorations were gothic and almost overbearing, the lighting lower than Jakub would have preferred. Hundreds of masked faces seemed to spin in candlelight glinting off champagne glasses. Against the far wall stood a stage for a band, and Jakub wasn’t surprised to see Grace at the head, dressed in sparkling white with a feathered headpiece and train setting her apart as a beacon in the ominous setting.

Jakub slipped his mask on and stayed close to Hannah as they made their way through the throngs. The crowd was already exhausting him and he suddenly looked forward to the prospect of a break during the middle of the evening, even if it was to engage in a felony. Foolishly, he felt a little better thanks to having a mask; none of these strangers would have recognized him anyway, but he could pretend it was like armor.

He listened for Cheshire’s voice to rise above the drone of the other partygoers, and when that failed, he braced his hand to a column and rose up on his toes. The first thing he spotted was Herb, who was gesturing broadly so that his long black cape spread out in all directions. He and Camila were near the bar with a collection of men and women dressed with card suits as themes.

“I’m going to talk to Masterson,” he said. “Wait here.”

“Good luck,” chirped Burke, already plucking  a champagne flute off the tray of a passing waiter. Hannah nodded; neither of them, it seemed, were any more eager to converse with the man than he was.

Jakub pushed his way through the crowds, taking note of which prominent faces he recognized. He wondered what it said about the city, that so many of the wealthy and elite were willing to heed the invitation of Manhattan’s newest and most dangerous crime bosses. Maybe they thought they could expect a moment of excitement, a fireworks display like the Chicago Smoke film premiere that had started their Manhattan push in the first place? He cast those thoughts aside as he came up to Herb and Camila.

“And they told me, I lost four whole pints of blood,” Herb was saying, flexing in his dark suit, to the laughter of his audience. “Even one more drop and I’d be haunting you right now instead of giving you my liquor.”

“Lucky for us, then,” said one of the men, and Herb laughed, placing his broad palm on Camila’s back.

“Lucky,” he said pointedly, “for everyone! Maybe someday, Lucky for mayor!” He and his audience laughed approvingly while Camila ducked shyly into the fur collar of her gown.

Jakub hung back, uncertain how to proceed. Though he caught Herb’s eye, Herb didn’t seem to recognize him, as he went right back to amusing his guests. Camila noticed him, but either didn’t see or wasn’t inclined to acknowledge his subtle attempts to urge her away from the group. Without another option, Jakub gulped and stepped into their circle. “Mr. Masterson?”

“Hm?” Herb turned toward him with a grin, and Jakub was instantly reminded of his oath to punch the man’s teeth in at some point. “Oh, Freckles! It’s you!” He poked the lip of the mask that covered Jakub’s cheek. “Perfect disguise for you.”

Jakub stared flatly back at him. “Can I talk to you?”

“In a minute—I’m getting to the good part.” Herb turned back toward his card-suit friends. “Where was I?”

“Four pints of blood,” said the Queen of Hearts excitedly.

“That’s right! So I lost almost five pints…”

Jakub leaned back as Herb carried on, glancing between the faces of his audience. Bloodthirsty after all, he thought as he fought back a scowl. It’s just fairy tales for them. As he considered what to do, Camila touched his elbow, and the two of them took a few steps away from the small gathering.

“You look very serious tonight,” said Camila, watching his face. “Are you concerned about the job?”

Jakub’s shoulders drooped with relief. “I hadn’t heard if any of yours would be joining us,” he said, hoping to confirm without giving away his uncertainty and paranoia. “Wasn’t our deal fifty-fifty?”

“All of mine are more interested in enjoying the party.” Camila fussed with her immaculate curls. “And it’s so close to home. We don’t mind leaving it to Mr. Kozlow.” She tucked one of the unruly strands behind her ear. “Though we still expect our share of the take for providing your alibi.”

“Of course,” Jakub said quickly. “That’s not a problem.”

Camila nodded. “Of course it isn’t.” She eyed Jakub over the rim of her glasses. “I do want our partnership to work,” she said. “I know how valuable your efforts are.”

“We feel the same way,” Jakub replied carefully, wondering if there was some hidden message beneath the words.

Herb slung his arm over Jakub’s shoulders and laughed in his ear. The stifling weight against his back reminded Jakub too much of their first meeting on the mail car, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from yanking away from him. “What’s going on?” Herb demanded. “You two sharing secrets over here?”

“Preparing for tonight,” said Camila, gathering herself up.

“Oh! Of course.” Herb leaned closer to Jakub’s face; Jakub stared at a point over Camila’s head as he endured. “Don’t be nervous, kid, you’ll do fine without us. Your boss Barney has it all figured out.”

“I’m not nervous,” Jakub said.

“That’s the spirit.” He gave Jakub a dull smack on the cheek and then let him go. “Have a drink before you leave— loosen up. It’s a party after all.”

Herb offered his arm to Camila, which she accepted, and the two of them moved on. Jakub stayed still for a while; nervous might not have been the word for it, but he was still drawn tight, the swirl of the masked party-goers around him making it hard to feel grounded. If everyone knows, there’s no reason to worry, he told himself. We’ve  done jobs like  this a dozen times. It’s only—

Someone pinched his right ass cheek, and Jakub spun around, keyed up and unwilling to take a teasing from anyone else. He recognized the rumble of Cheshire’s laughter before the rest of him, and all his anxiety unfurled into butterflies. Cheshire was decked out in a white tuxedo with gold buttons and cufflinks, long tails, and a feathered, pointy-brimmed felt hat. The mask resting on his face bore cat ears and whiskers, and a cat-head brooch clasped the ascot taking the place of his usual silk necktie. He of course was grinning ear to ear, and Jakub couldn’t help but envy the way he seemed fueled by the lavish commotion around them, whereas Jakub was more than eager to let them all fall away.

“Did I startle you?” Cheshire asked, and he chuckled. “Sorry; I couldn’t help myself.”

Jakub blushed. If only they were in private he would have given Cheshire more than a pinch in return; even with the audience it was hard to deny the impulse to move closer, to let Cheshire’s grinning confidence bolster him through the unpleasant social obligations. As important as he knew their secrecy to be, he was beginning to loathe it.

This should be getting easier, not harder, he thought, itching to reach for him. He swallowed. “I like your whiskers.”

Cheshire’s blushing cheeks went unseen thanks to the mask, but his red ears gave him away. “I like your…everything,” he said, and Jakub turned even redder. “What did Masterson want?”

Jakub’s spirits dampened at the mention, but it was probably for the best. “I wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight,” he said, only to be struck by a sudden, new concern. “You heard, didn’t you?”

“About half an hour ago,” said Cheshire with a dry twist of his lip. “Did they tell you who we’re shaking down this time? Herb wouldn’t say.”

“Smugglers, I heard.” Jakub took a quick glance around to confirm that even with so many people around, each was deeply engrossed in some other conversation and not trying to overhear. “We own the liquor here, so maybe drugs? Tech?”

“You’ll have to let me know.” Cheshire heaved an overly dramatic sigh that Jakub could tell was only half for show. “It’s hard being so popular that you have to play decoy.”

“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Jakub reassured him. “In private.”

Cheshire’s eyes glinted behind his mask. “Ooh, I’d like that.”

Jakub licked his lips, wishing that privacy could already

be theirs. He took a deep breath, and with the masks between them granting him extra courage, he said, “Maybe we can go on a trip sometime. To Boston, or…Chicago or something.” His fingers curled within his gloves. “Somewhere no one knows us.”

Cheshire leaned back, surprised. It was hard to tell but there might have been some of that same hesitation biting his tongue. “Y-Yeah,” he said, and he let out a quiet chuckle. “You’re right—we should.” He got a bit more of his breath beneath him and laughed. “Tonight?”

Jakub snorted. He was surprised by his own boldness and happy to let Cheshire drown the moment in humor. “Of course not.”

“Good—you know I love seeing you dress up, I want to make the most of it.” Cheshire threw his arm around Jakub’s shoulders; how different the same gesture felt when it was so much more welcome. “Speaking of, you did real good on the outfit,” he said as he steered them toward the bar. “You’ll be the best looking thief Manhattan’s ever seen.”

It was then that Jakub noticed Hannah and Burke were heading for the bar as well, along with Barney and his crew, from another direction closer to the stage. This is it, Jakub thought, and he took in a deep breath, glad for Cheshire’s strength against his back. “They’re not supposed to see me,” he retorted. “That’s how you get caught.”

“Haven’t caught me yet,” Cheshire said, laughing. “But there are a few cops in here, so maybe they’ll press their luck tonight.”

Jakub stiffened and tried to turn to better see the room. “Really?”

“Chief of Police himself,” Cheshire confirmed, sing- song. “But don’t worry, I’m pretty sure he’s on payroll.” He exchanged a nod with Herb as they passed. “That’s part of the reason Masterson agreed to this. If it goes over quietly, no one will know it happened. But if anything does happen, hard to argue with Manhattan’s top cop as an alibi.”

Jakub frowned but allowed Cheshire to continue guiding them onward. Some people in here won’t like being used like that, he thought. But they might not be able  to  do  anything about it. “Another dangerous power play,” he muttered.

“It’s in his blood, sorry to say. Incurable.”

Cheshire let him go once they reached the bar. There were already a few guests crowded around, getting their drinks. As Barney approached, the bartender leaned against the counter and said, loudly, “We’re running out of Scotch.”

“We’ll bring up some cases from the cellar,” said Barney.

He motioned to his comrades. “C’mon, boys.”

Barney, Hannah, Leon, and the rest moved around behind the bar, to where a service door led out the back. Jakub glanced to Cheshire, who mouthed good luck. He nodded and then followed the rest of them out.

They moved swiftly through the employee back area, to the rear of the hotel where deliveries were typically dropped off. A truck awaited them there, and in the back of it, two burlap sacks that Barney pawed through. “Put on one of these instead of what you’re wearing,” he said, handing out new masks. They were all the same: white faces with black, round mouse ears, pointy noses and cartoonish whiskers. As everyone changed out their masks, Jakub hesitated before tossing his into the sack, thinking there was a chance the feathers would get bent.

It’s just a stupid mask you’ll never wear again, he told himself, feeling ridiculous. Even so he managed to tuck it into Hannah’s mask as support before climbing into the back of the truck. He pulled the door shut behind him, and with Barney and

Hannah in the front, they were off.

***

Back at the bar, Burke downed a quick shot of whiskey. “Well, there they go,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at Cheshire. “If ye’re hoping to give yourself an iron alibi, now’s the time.”

“Oh, I’m on it,” said Cheshire, tearing his gaze away

from the door Jakub had disappeared through. He made a show of tightening his pony tail and adjusting his mask and ascot. “Believe me.” He cast Burke a wink and then headed through the crowd, straight for the stage.

This  should  be getting easier,  not  harder, he thought, his mind lingering on the image of Jakub’s face upturned, watching him with such close scrutiny. As accustomed as he was to Jakub staring at him, something was different now—a want that hadn’t been there before, as if he were always on the verge of asking a question. It was exhilarating but mostly terrifying, and Cheshire barely knew what to do with himself anymore when Jakub fixed those piercing brown eyes on him.

By the time Cheshire reached the front of the ballroom, Grace and her band were just finishing their last number. He managed to catch her eye and fixed her with a look he knew she’d interpret. Though she tried to be put out, there was no hiding the grin threatening to draw her lips wider. She may have been dating an angel, but he knew she enjoyed being at the edge of their high-stakes, criminal antics.

“Enough with that slow stuff,” she said to the crowd. “We need something with some kick.” She motioned for Cheshire to join her. “Care to help me with that, Mr. Cheshire Bloom?”

Cheshire feigned bashfulness as the partygoers turned either toward him, or to each other to whisper. He waited until a few hands patted him on the back to encourage him before climbing onto the stage. The sea of masked faces staring back at him sent his heart thumping with excitement: everyone there knew who he was, would definitely be telling their families and co-workers the next day, I saw Cheshire Bloom at the Thrones last night. Thugs, politicians, actresses and businessmen—their rapt attention represented the notoriety he had always dreamed of having, since long before throwing his lot in with a small-time bootlegger in Brooklyn.

“Well, gee,” he said close enough for the microphone to pick him up. “I sure hope you play one I know.”

“Try to keep up,” Grace shot back, and she made what must have been a specific hand gesture to the band behind them. The drummer came in on a quick beat, and as the rest followed suit, Cheshire couldn’t help but look to Emma raising the saxophone to her lips. She shot him a cool look before joining into the intro.

Cheshire gulped, but by the time his cue came he was all grins again, facing the crowd with his full enthusiasm.

***

The pier had long since been emptied by the time Jakub and the rest of the Kozlow crew arrived. Its use had declined greatly over the years, thanks to the shallow bank that couldn’t accommodate newer, larger ships, as well as the decline of the accompanying fish market and competition from other piers— including Kozlow’s own. But it did have one particular use well suited to its circumstances: a landing point for smaller, private boats not looking for neighbors.

Barney drove them straight off from the street out onto the pier itself, past the empty buildings that had once been storefronts, avoiding as much as possible any line of sight from the guard station. They were lucky, with a new moon and plenty of cloud cover keeping most of the pier in shadow. “It’ll be fast,” Leon explained to the rest of the group as they disembarked from the truck. He reached into the second sack and began distributing baseball bats. “Knock them out, take what you can back to the truck, and we’re gone. No shooting if you can help it.”

Jakub accepted his bat last. He watched Leon scrape his sweaty palms across his pants. “Are you up for this?” he asked. “Of course I am,” said Leon, and he jerked his thumb behind him. “I’m staying to guard the truck.”

“Right…” Jakub fell into step next to Hannah as they headed for the waterfront. What’s he so nervous about then?

It took Jakub a moment to spot the boat: a small, wood yacht with a power motor and a raised deck. All it’s lights were off, leaving it a dark silhouette on equally dark water. A few figures were visible moving about the deck, but no more than that, other than the dull light of a match being struck. Apparently the merchandise hadn’t arrived yet.

They followed the wall of a storehouse as far down the pier as they could, but there was still a good distance between the ending corner and the boat. As they reached the edge, Barney turned back and motioned for Jakub to move up.

“Truck should be here any minute,” he whispered. “Looks like we can nab whoever’s on the boat before they even show up.”

Jakub eyed the boat warily. Watching it sway on the water made his stomach turn. “Didn’t I tell you we should have all the details worked out ahead of time?”

“What?” Barney shrugged. “We outnumber them—it’ll be easy.”

“Since they’re not here yet, we could bring our truck right up to the edge,” Hannah suggested. “They wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Maybe if Bloom was here,” Jakub said before he could think better of it. “I’m not an actor.”

“We don’t need to act,” Barney said quickly. “We just need an element of surprise.” He nodded to Hannah. “Take half the boys and come around in the truck. We’ll cover you.”

Hannah nodded, and she tapped two of the others to take with her. As they scurried off back toward the truck, Barney pulled a revolver out of his jacket. Jakub eyed it as he adjusted his mask. His own breath was suddenly stifling. “Try not to use that,” he said.

“I can’t cover them from here with a bat,” Barney retorted. He nodded toward the boat. “How many do you see?”

Jakub peered into the dark and finally just lifted his mask for a breath of fresh air. “Two: one on the dock and one on the deck. But I thought there were three earlier.”

“Yeah, me too.” Barney tugged his mask up for a better look, and then they both resettled their disguises. “When Hannah pulls up, they can take the one on the dock. Keep an eye on the cabin for Mystery Man number three.”

The truck rumbled down the pier, drawing the smugglers’ attention. There wasn’t time to argue; Jakub chewed his lip as he drew his own gun. As few shots as possible, he told himself, watching the rough outline of a figure emerging from the ship’s cabin. Everyone on the river is going to hear this.

The truck drew to a halt, and the man on the pier tossed his cigarette into the water as he moved to the rear door. He didn’t seem to suspect a thing, up until the back door clattered upward, and a baseball bat cracked against his temple. Jakub darted out of hiding as the rest of the gang poured out of the truck and followed him down the line of the dock. The smuggler on the deck pulled a gun while the other retreated back into the cabin. But Hannah and the boys already had three guns trained on the armed man, shouting at him to surrender, and he didn’t get off a shot.

“I’ve got the third,” said Jakub before Barney could get any ideas. As soon as he was close enough he leaped down to the stern of the ship. His stomach lurched at his shoes squealing against the slick wood, but he kept his balance. After shooting a brief, warning look at the second smuggler—who by then was lifting both hands over his head, his face twisted with frustration—he moved toward the cabin, gun raised.

“We’re here for the goods!” Jakub called. He could see someone moving about inside. “Don’t try anything and I won’t kill you!”

Someone was talking inside, and Jakub heard a crackle of radio static. Hurrying, Jakub dropped his bat and kicked the cabin door in. The inside was lit only with a few blinking lights from various pieces of equipment he didn’t recognize, but he could see the figure was a woman, stocky with a short bob of hair. She spun about as he marched inside.

“Put your hands up,” Jakub ordered, “or I’ll—”

The woman flung something at him, and he dodged to the side; glass shattered against the cabin door. In the next moment the woman launched herself at him, fearless, leaving Jakub no time to fire the gun. They grappled roughly in the confined space, until Jakub managed to wrestle his gun hand free. He swung the grip down, hoping a blow to the temple would knock her out and spare them both a bullet. But then her right hand shot out to grab him by the wrist in a startling, metallic grip.

Jakub froze. There was only just enough light that he could see pinpoints of red and green glinting off the prosthetic hand, just like his—eerily like his. In his hesitation the woman punched him in the stomach, winding him, but he managed to keep his senses. Forgetting the gun, he instead grabbed the woman by the front of her coveralls and twisted, sending them both tumbling through the cabin door and onto the deck.

The woman still had a grip on Jakub’s wrist, but she was caught enough off guard that he was able to twist against the metal and press the revolver’s muzzle into the side of her head. “Stop,” he barked, breathing hard from the struggle. “Or I’ll kill you right now.”

“I know,” the woman snarled in reply, and the sound of her voice sent a chill up Jakub’s spine before he could consciously place it. “I know it’s you under there.” Half sprawled on the deck, she turned her head to glare at him, and Jakub leaned back, stunned to find himself staring down at Millie Tighe.

It had been two years since Jakub last saw Millie Tighe, one of the late Foleys’ most loyal members, disappearing into a cloud of smoke from Cheshire’s magic. After having cleared out the rest of her family and gang, it hadn’t even occurred to him to wonder what might have become of her. As she finally let go of his wrist, he couldn’t help but stare at her metallic fingers stretching and then relaxing. There was no mistaking the craftsmanship.

“Where did you get that?” he demanded, pushing to his feet to get some distance between them. His mind was suddenly reeling. “Did you steal it from Hallorran?”

Millie scoffed loudly. “Fuck you—I worked hard for this, after what that devil friend of yours did to me!” Though she was defiant, her grimace twisted with pain that reminded Jakub of smoke stinging his nostrils, and a phantom pain tingled along his missing arm. “Why can’t you just leave me alone!”

Jakub tensed, unsure what to do, until they were interrupted by gunshots from up on the pier—then gunshots much closer, as the second of the smugglers that had been held at gunpoint turned and fired. His first shot pulled wide and Jakub dove for cover behind the cabin door just in time to avoid those that followed. Cursing and disoriented, he reached around the door to return fire. He only managed to clip the man’s knee, but it was enough that he stumbled backwards, and with a shout he tumbled off the side of the boat. The splash followed a moment later, and by the time Jakub came out of cover, Millie was running for the edge. She cast him one more long, hateful look before leaping into the water after her companion.

Jakub held his breath. The commotion up top had subsided, and he waited, gun still drawn, for some indication of which side had prevailed. Then a pair of mouse faces peered down at him from the pier, and Hannah called, “Are you all right?”

Jakub released his sigh and holstered his gun. After grabbing the bat, he moved to the side of the boat and let Hannah and Leon help hoist him back up onto the dock. The fight, such as it was, had ended: one smuggler bleeding from the head remained at the edge of the dock, while a second truck stood a dozen meters away, its tires shot out. Two more figures were stretched out on the ground on either side, but Jakub couldn’t tell if they were breathing.

“Phew!” exclaimed Barney as he adjusted the eyeholes on his mask. “That was louder than I wanted. Let’s hurry up!” He and the rest hurried to the back of the second truck—Jakub rushed forward, wanting to be among the first. Barney yanked open the back of the truck to reveal a collection of unmarked wooden crates, no more than half a dozen and none larger than a suitcase. As Hannah began directing them to carry the crates to their own truck, Jakub pulled himself up into

the hold next to Barney and ripped his mask off.

“Did you know who we’re stealing from?” he demanded, keyed up on gunsmoke and the snarl of Millie Tighe he had never expected to hear again.

“It’s their own fault,” Barney said, and he snatched a pry bar off the inside of the truck to pop open the smallest of the crates. “Illegal goods going in and out of this city have to go through us—I don’t care who made them.”

The lid opened with a crack, revealing a bundle of straw packing. Without hesitation Barney reached inside, and Jakub leaned in close to see as he drew out a small sack and a gun: a handsome revolver with filigree embellishments, and engraved into the underside of the grip, the round Hallorran logo.

***

Cheshire sang three songs with Grace before he had to beg her, laughing, for a break. After lavishing her with praise for her professional stamina, the two of them abandoned the stage, leaving her pianist to occupy the guests for a while.

“You sure you don’t want to join the band?” Grace teased him. “We could use another hand to carry the drums.”

Cheshire laughed, though there wasn’t anything funny about Emma hooking her arm around Grace’s elbow. “I’m not fit enough for the stage,” he assured them both. “Besides, I’d rather be a guest star—better billing that way.” Grace laughed and gave him a shove, and she and Emma moved on to greet more of their fans.

Cheshire was talking himself out of a pause at the bar when someone tapped his shoulder. “Care to dance?”

“Of course!” he chirped, and he turned to find a woman in a very plain blue suit and a very simple white mask staring at him intently. The bounce of her brown curls was familiar, but in the swirl of the ballroom it wasn’t until she latched onto his hand with much greater strength than necessary that he realized who it was.

“Ah, Marshal Adalet,” Cheshire greeted, and his courage rose to the forefront. If she’s here, she’s not wherever Jakub is, he thought, and he boldly pressed his other hand to the small of her back as he swept her onto the dance floor. “I’m delighted to see you!”

Hazel scowled, but she kept up with him, her hand a vice on his as they roughly followed the slow pace of the piano. “I can’t say the same,” she told him bluntly. “Because if you’re out here making a fool of yourself, I’m sure it’s because you’re trying to distract from something else.”

“Ha! You’ve caught me!” Cheshire didn’t let her attempts to intimidate him crack one millimeter of his smile. “I did my best, but not even I was able to prevent you from noticing that there is, in fact, alcohol being served at the bar. You’d better clap irons on all of us.”

“If I wanted you for booze, I could have had you a long time ago,” Hazel retorted, which Cheshire didn’t believe for a moment. “Prohibition is not my department.”

Cheshire spun them about, wincing a little when Hazel dug her nails into him. “What is your department?” he asked.

“You,” Hazel said immediately.

Cheshire laughed. “I’m flattered.”

“I’ve figured you out,” Hazel continued with determination. “It’s the smell.”

Cheshire finally began to feel pricklings of true ill ease, but he refused to let them show. “There may be a hint of lavender in my aftershave,” he confessed, feigning guilt.

But Hazel wasn’t deterred in the slightest. “You and your crew robbed two armored cars two months ago. You were there for one, but not the other—the car on the east side of the river.” Her grip on his hand and shoulder tightened again. “And I know because I could smell you on the wreckage, just like the first car outside the theater.”

Cheshire continued to smile calmly back at her, though internally he was cycling back through their recent jobs, especially the ones where he had deployed his magic. Don’t panic, he told himself. She already suspects you for all of them, but can’t do anything without proof. So who cares?

“Oh?” Cheshire raised an eyebrow at her, drawing out his answer. “And what do I smell like?”

“Fire and brimstone,” Hazel answered, with utter seriousness.

Cheshire had the fleeting thought that maybe she had been talking to Emma somehow, which he covered with another chuckle. “The smell of something burning at the scene of an explosion,” he teased. “I’m sure your superiors are very impressed.”

Hazel let go of him with a shove. “You’re laughing now,” she said, her fists clenching at her sides. “But I’ve got your tail now, Bloom, and I will be the one that brings you in. You and your whole crew.”

Cheshire thought of Jakub disappearing behind the staff door and couldn’t help the edge that crept into his smirk. Like hell you are. “But I’m not wearing the tail tonight,” he retorted, and he plucked at his mask. “Just the whiskers.”

Hazel’s face screwed up with fury. “You’re fucking insufferable,” she spat, and she started to turn away, only to force herself back. “Is this really just a joke to you?” she continued. “Some game you can win at? While the people you hurt mean nothing?”

“Marshal, please,” Cheshire said, placating. He offered his hand again, and reluctantly Hazel took it up. “You really are barking up the wrong tree. Look around.” He nodded toward the dozens of well-known faces surrounding them. “Everyone here is playing the game. Cops and robbers, workers and politicians. All of us have our roles. I’m just a little cog in this machine.”

Hazel glared back at him, but her temper had quieted. It wasn’t reassuring. “I know,” she said, surprising him. “And I’m sure that makes it real easy to do what you do, when you can tell yourself that. All you ‘little cogs’ do.” Her fingers dug into his shoulder like lamprey teeth. “But this little cog matters, Bloom,” she continued icily. “What I do matters. And what I’m going to do is bring you in. A witch like you is a much bigger cog than you think.”

Cheshire offered a crooked smile. “Thanks…?”

Hazel narrowed her eyes at him, but she seemed to have said her piece, and she let him go again. “Next time you so much as light a cigarette, I’ll be waiting,” she said, and with a final glare she marched off into the crowd.

Cheshire watched her go, shrugging to himself to placate the few curious eyes that had turned his way. Strangely enough, having an audience made it that much easier for him to hide any concern he felt over Hazel’s declarations. He believed what he’d said—he belonged in settings like this.

Don’t I? Cheshire frowned into the sea of guests, all strangers he recognized but didn’t know. They seemed to all blend together. When he spotted Burke headed his way, he was all too eager to welcome him over. “They back yet?” he asked.

“Not yet.” Burke cast a glance behind him and then back. “What’d the marshal want?”

“Just to let off some steam, I guess.” Cheshire grabbed

Burke up and swept him onto the floor. “Let’s dance.”

“What!?” Burke stumbled, fighting to keep up with

Cheshire’s larger frame. “Fucking—cut it out!”

“C’mon, Burke, have some fun!” Cheshire laughed as he spun Burke around and then had to catch him to keep him from falling over. “Just to pass the time.”

“‘Insufferable’ was right,” Burke muttered, blushing hotly, but he played along. Dodging his antlers made it easier for Cheshire not to stare at the far door as they waited for news.

***

“Don’t you realize who it is we’re stealing from?” Jakub said as he followed Barney out of the truck. His entire body broiled in anger and confusion. “These aren’t normal smugglers, it’s Hallorran—Manhattan’s Hallorran!”

“Yeah, of course I know that,” Barney replied, unconcerned. He waved to Hannah. “Get everyone back in the truck.”

Hannah removed her mask and passed the orders along while keeping an eye on them, as Barney wasn’t headed for the truck—he was moving toward the edge of the dock. Jakub pursued. “Hallorran is an ally for us,” he insisted. “Why the hell cross them over this? There’s barely six crates here.”

“Yeah, I know.” Barney’s mouth twisted in a sick grin. “Check this out, though.”

Barney pulled a speed loader out of the sack that had been with the revolver and loaded the cylinder. He thumbed back the hammer with a heavier clink than Jakub was used to and took aim at the Hallorran boat Millie and her companion had abandoned.

“Wait—” said Jakub, but Barney had already pulled the trigger.

The cabin exploded in a fireball as if having been hit with a grenade. Wood splintered in all directions, smoke roaring into the night air. The river glowed with points of fire licking the ragged edges of the ruined cabin. As accustomed as he was to a fiery blast, Jakub flinched and couldn’t help but stare.

Barney cackled with glee as he tugged his mask up. “Ho-ly-shit, did you see that?” He slapped Jakub on the back and then turned to head back to the truck. “Hey—did you see that!”

A shudder ran the length of Jakub’s spine, and he whipped around to follow. He grabbed Barney by the shoulder and shoved his back to the side of the truck with a clatter that had even Hannah wincing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jakub demanded, ignoring the other Kozlow boys drawing closer from the commotion. “You know I have ties to Hallorran.”

“What’s the matter with you?” Barney stared back at him, so startled that it pissed Jakub off even more. “This is a great haul!” He gestured to the flaming boat that was beginning to take on water as the cabin collapsed in on itself. “Yeah it’s Hallorran, but so what? You already made that rifle to be like theirs—I thought you’d be thrilled to have the real thing.”

“Jakub,” said Hannah, edging over to them. “Before you—”

But Jakub’s mouth was already twisting in a scowl. A hundred furious accusations bubbled in his chest. Like hell this has anything to do with me, he thought, and he couldn’t stop himself from striking Barney across the jaw with his left hand.

It made a terrible thud. Barney stumbled and caught himself against the side of the truck. “What the fu—”

“This is the real thing,” said Jakub, yanking the glove off so he could wave his metal fingers in Barney’s face. “Only Hallorran has this, don’t you understand? I owe her for this!”

Barney straightened up, trying to rub his face while appear unhurt at the same time. “We paid her off for that,” he retorted. “If you need another one I’ll just steal it for you. You should be glad—no more Bloom firing off that magic of his everywhere now that we have these.” His brow furrowed as he gestured to the arm. “No more accidents.”

Fresh heat coursed up and down Jakub’s already wire- taut limbs, and he would have struck Barney again, harder— much harder—if not for the sound of gun hammers being drawn back. He barely had time to realize that Barney’s hired thugs had muzzles pointed at him before Leon and Hannah both intervened. “Calm down,” Hannah was saying, one hand on Jakub’s chest as she tried to steer him toward the front of the truck. “All of you! We have to get out of here before the cops show up.”

Jakub allowed Hannah to draw him back; he felt hot and sick all over, and he knew he couldn’t trust himself in the situation any longer. Hannah steered him toward the passenger side door while continuing to pass on orders. “Leon, stay in the back—calm everyone down. We got what we came for and we’re going back to the hotel.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am,” Leon stuttered, and he urged everyone toward the rear.

Barney dodged away from Leon’s prodding, and as Hannah moved around the truck to take the wheel, he climbed up into the cabin next to Jakub. “I don’t know what’s got you so worked up, but sorry,” he said, though he still sounded more baffled than apologetic. “Hallorran won’t even know this was us—why would she take it personally?”

“Enough,” Jakub grumbled, dragging his glove back on. “You should have told me.”

“All right, fine. I should have.” Barney folded his arms, but once Hannah was behind the wheel and pulling away from the pier, he squirmed and carried on. “I thought you’d be on board. It was your idea to use more firepower on these jobs so that fucking marshal wouldn’t be able to pin them all together on Bloom. With these we won’t have to use his magic at all.”

“Barney,” Hannah said, though it was clear she was warning them both. “Enough.”

Jakub ignored her. “All you’ve done is try to ice Bloom out,” he said, his temper rising again despite his better judgment. “When are you going to admit we wouldn’t have half of what we do if not for him?”

“I admit it!” Barney snapped, though then he seemed to regret it. He growled in frustration and rubbed at his jaw. “I admit it, and I’m sick of it—I don’t want it to be like that anymore! I’m playing nice with Manhattan, aren’t I?”

Jakub clenched his fists, but he knew the words gnawing at his throat wouldn’t help matters any, so he turned instead to Hannah. “Did you know it was Hallorran?”

Hannah stared straight ahead. “I knew it was guns,” she admitted. “I didn’t know it was Hallorran.”

“You knew it was them or Diamondback,” said Barney. “Who else makes guns in this town?”

Hannah grimaced, which said enough—she had at least suspected, but she hadn’t said anything. The thought hardened Jakub’s anger into bitterness. I thought she at least would know better, he thought, but he stopped himself before he could get any accusations out. I’m not telling her everything either, but… this is different. Isn’t it?

“Whatever,” Jakub muttered, too exhausted to argue. He swallowed hard thinking about how Cheshire would react. “I get it.”

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you with it,” Barney carried on. “I just thought—”

“No, fine, I get it.” Jakub rubbed his eyes, wishing he

had his mask back to hide behind. “We’ll talk about it later.”

They passed several police cars on their way back to the hotel. Once they arrived the boys began carrying the crates in through the back and transferred the contents into empty crates that had once held liquor. “Don’t forget to grab some scotch on your way in,” Barney said, back to his usual temperament. “And blend in.”

Leon tapped Jakub on the shoulder. He was holding the sack with their masks in one hand, Jakub’s black mask in the other. His eyebrows were drawn with concern.

“Thanks,” Jakub muttered, and he slipped it on as he headed back into the hotel proper.

The party was still in full swing, and a few guests near the bar cheered when Jakub and the others dropped off cases of booze for the bartender. Jakub moved on as quickly as he could, his gaze darting from one man to the next. Fortunately, Cheshire wasn’t hard to spot in his white jacket and hat: he was chatting with a group of young men opposite the stage.

Jakub headed toward him before knowing what he intended to say. Every step only made it harder; Cheshire was fully in his element, laughing and conspiring, practically aglow. He didn’t want to be the one to ruin that for him, but Cheshire had to know about the job and all it entailed, and he wanted Barney or Hannah to be the one to break the news to him even less.

Cheshire spotted him, and his face lit up with that mess of excitement and dread that Jakub had hoped they’d gotten over by now. But there was no turning back. With a deep breath Jakub planted his feet and motioned for Cheshire to come to him.

Cheshire’s smile faltered, but after bidding his audience a charming farewell, he strode over to Jakub. “Hey,” he said, his eyes darting up and down Jakub’s figure. “You’re back, good. How did it go?”

Jakub grimaced. I hate this. “It went fine,” he said. “The take is in the storeroom. No one got hurt.”

Cheshire started to relax, but he could see there was more. “You don’t look fine,” he said carefully.

“I’m not,” Jakub admitted, startling himself, and then he couldn’t help it; he took Cheshire by the arm and led him a bit further away from the rest of the assembly so he could lower his voice.

“I saw Millie Tighe tonight,” he said. “She was one of the smugglers.”

“Millie!” Cheshire blinked at Jakub in amazement. “Wow, I really thought I’d killed her,” he said, and then he shook himself. “It was really Millie Tighe? Was she…okay?”

“Yeah, but listen…” Jakub rallied himself again. “Chesh, she was working for Hallorran,” he said, and Cheshire leaned back with the same look of confusion and anger that Jakub had felt. “They were the smugglers we were after. They were loading some illegal prototypes or something onto a boat. Hallorran- made weapons.”

Cheshire glanced to the crowd of guests, doubtlessly looking for Hallorran herself. A guilty wince twisted his features that reignited a great deal of Jakub’s righteous frustration. “Did Barney know?” he asked. “That it was them specifically?”

“Yeah. I think he was just trying to get his hands on a fancy weapon.” Jakub squirmed on his feet. “I’m sorry.”

“What? No—no, it’s not your fault.” Cheshire scanned the room again, scowling. “Why would he do that? He knows what we went through for them! For you!”

“I know,” said Jakub, wishing there had been a way for him to not say anything at all. When he looked beyond Cheshire he finally spotted Hallorran; she was moving toward the exit with her date, a third woman talking close to her ear. She glanced back into the ballroom just as she reached the doors, and Jakub could have sworn her eyes landed on the pair of them, harried and cold.

Cheshire tried to follow his gaze; Jakub tugged at his suit to interrupt him. He couldn’t think of anything good that could come out of Cheshire following her out. “It’s too late to do anything about it,” he said. “But now Barney and Manhattan have their hands on some serious weapons. I’m worried about what they’ll do next.”

“Shit, of all the…” Cheshire turned in place, and having spotted someone, his eyes narrowed behind his mask. “Come on,” he said, and he took Jakub’s arm to pull him along. “Barney!” Jakub kept up, and he gulped when he realized that Barney, Herb, and Camila were all chatting together in the heart of the assembly. Barney glanced up, and his face quickly transitioned from a scowl to a fake grin. “Bloom. I hear you put on a show.”

Jakub tugged out of Cheshire’s grip. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this now,” he whispered.

“I just want to talk,” said Cheshire, though the hard set of his jaw said otherwise.

Cheshire stopped in front of Barney, though once there he seemed to realize just as Jakub had that the timing couldn’t be worse. Herb and Camila were watching them with raised eyebrows, as were a few other lookee-loo guests. He, too, pasted a fake grin into place. “I heard the same about you,” he said. “I sure wish you would have told me.”

“Told you what?” Barney retorted with a shrug. “Your job was here, and you did it, and I did mine.”

Cheshire hesitated, his jaw clenching; Jakub’s ached with empathy. “You know we have a relationship,” he said at last, and his pretense of humor slipped. “Probably broken now, thanks to you. I deserved to know.”

Barney shrugged again; he was clearly beginning to take some enjoyment from Cheshire’s obligation of restraint. “If you’d been there that would have just made it harder, right?”

“That’s not what he’s talking about and you know it,” said Jakub. “We’re supposed to be all on the same side.”

“He’s right,” said Cheshire. “If you have so much of a problem with me, then let’s settle it face to face, without you sneaking around my back, hurting our own allies while you’re at it.”

“You’re just jealous,” Barney shot back, but he stepped to the side, clearly looking for a way to disengage. “I did this job all by myself and now I’ve got a bigger gun than you.” He poked Cheshire in the chest. “So just keep doing what you’re told.”

Cheshire gathered himself up; Barney quickly took another step away from him, and from there he retreated back into the crowd. Jakub had half a mind to follow after him and demand further answers, but he was drawn back by Herb’s raucous laughter.

“Rough night, huh?” Herb teased. He raised his glass of brandy as if to toast. “You Kozlows never fail to entertain.”

Cheshire turned toward him, conflict clear in his face.

“Herb,” he said. “Buddy. Did you know?”

“‘Course I knew,” replied Herb, utterly unconcerned. “It’s our town, ain’t it? Where do you think intel comes from?”

He took a sip from his glass as Camila nodded. “Hallorran has never been willing to do business with us,” she said. “This was a good opportunity.”

“We’ve done business with Hallorran,” said Jakub, lifting his left hand. “Did Barney not tell you that?”

Herb shrugged. “Oh, I knew. But Barney wanted his big gun. He was so gung-ho about it, how could—”

“Because you’re such good friends with Barney now?” Cheshire interrupted.

“He’s your boss, right?” Herb snorted. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Jakub clenched his fists; he could feel Cheshire winding tight beside him. “Because I’m the one that saved your life,” Cheshire said, with an effort to lower his voice. “When I had every reason not to.” Strain twisted his mouth into a grimace. “You don’t know what that cost me.”

“And I appreciate it, really!” Herb threw his arm around Cheshire’s shoulders, despite body language warning him not to. “C’mon, Chesh, don’t be sore. It’s just business.” He gave Cheshire a shake. “I’m sure it twists your knickers not to be the only one who can blow shit up now, but did you really think that was fair anyway?”

Cheshire pushed Herb’s arm off him. “You think I’m jealous, too?” He scoffed uneasily. “You’re just mad I won’t light sparklers for you on command. I keep telling you it’s not some parlour trick, Herb.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Herb, and though he was still smiling, his eyes narrowed. “It’s the real deal.”

Jakub stood up straighter; something in Herb’s tone clicked for him then, and he watched more closely as the man carried on, and Camila tugged at her fur beside him. “Some real witchy shit,” Herb said, every word gaining teeth. “You can’t help but wonder about someone like that.”

Cheshire snorted, offering a shark’s grin in return. “It’s you who’s jealous. You’re just as bad as Barney.”

“He’s not jealous,” said Jakub, and the dart of Herb’s eyes toward him convinced him further that he was right. “He’s afraid of you.”

“Afraid?” Herb repeated too quickly. He gave a great bark of laughter as Camila looked away. “Of what, a lit match and a few puffs of smoke?” When Cheshire arched an eyebrow at him, seeming to relish the idea, Herb’s face contorted briefly before he could wrangle his careless grin back into place. “This pansy peacock fucker has nothing on me,” he declared, and with a flick of his wrist he splashed his drink directly into Cheshire’s face.

Cheshire reeled back, hissing and swiping at his eyes. Watching the amber liquid splatter across his pristine white tuxedo sent Jakub’s blood boiling. After all he’d watched Cheshire endure, from Kozlow and Manhattan and everyone else, he couldn’t bring himself to let another insult go unchallenged. He grabbed Herb by the collar of his cape, fully intending to plant his metal fist directly in his smug face.

He didn’t get that far. Cheshire grabbed him by the elbow and around the waist to drag him back. The unexpected strength of his arm took Jakub’s breath away. Herb didn’t even have time to fully register that he had been seconds away from a broken nose or worse; he guffawed as Cheshire pulled Jakub away.

“Jealous was right!” Herb crowed. “Wish I had an attack dog like that!” He continued to laugh as Cheshire drew Jakub, still quaking with anger, toward the wall of the ballroom.

“Fucking asshole,” Jakub growled, and he finally managed to shake free from Cheshire’s grip. “After everything you’ve done for him, to side with Barney? Who’s only pretending to play nice so he can put a knife in his back?”

“I know.” Cheshire stripped off his hat and mask. “Can you hold these?”

Jakub accepted, and his fury shifted to concern as he watched Cheshire mop his face with a handkerchief. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah—just—stings.” Cheshire grimaced as he cleaned up as much as he could. “Son of a bitch. I really like this jacket.” He patted down his stained lapels; Jakub’s shoulders drooped and his throat ached. He knew very well it wasn’t the ruined jacket drawing Cheshire’s brow tight with disappointment and frustration. “Let’s leave,” Jakub said. “We don’t belong here.”

Cheshire’s wince deepened, and he straightened up to look around the room. “Yeah,” he said distractedly. “We don’t.” He shook himself and motioned for Jakub to hand his mask back. “But we can’t leave yet,” he said as he wiped off the mask and then fit it back to his face. “If the cops are just now hearing about the robbery, they’ll be on the streets. Better they find us here than trying to cross the bridge.”

He nodded toward the exit, where Marshal Adalet had her ear cocked to an officer in uniform. She scowled as she scanned the room and spotted Cheshire. She held his gaze, tapped her nose, and then followed the officer out.

Jakub took a deep breath to force the rest of his hackles down. “I’m sorry,” he said. “If you hadn’t stopped me—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cheshire hurried to reassure him. He gave the back of Jakub’s neck a squeeze and offered a grin. “Someday I’ll let you do it and hold him.”

Jakub nodded, taking him more seriously than he was maybe meant to. “However you want to handle this, I’m with you,” he said. Even if it means killing Masterson, he thought, and it must have shown in his face, because Cheshire’s smile melted away.

“Let’s just try to enjoy the rest of the party for now,” Cheshire said, and he put a hand on Jakub’s back to urge him toward the bar. “Until the cops break it up.”

Jakub allowed Cheshire to lead him. They swiftly met up with Burke, who insisted he had no knowledge of the target of their raid. Jakub believed him, though he wondered how much that even mattered now.

Cheshire stayed close to him for the rest of the night, until the police inevitably did arrive to question the attendees. Naturally, no one had heard or suspected anything, and the caliber of the clientele prevented anyone from noticing the alcohol being swiftly vacated from the bar. Late in the night, everyone was finally dismissed to begin the trek across the city. As much as he hated to do it, Jakub bid Cheshire goodnight and climbed back into Hannah’s car with her and Burke.

“Jakub,” Hannah said seriously as she pulled them away from the curb. “If this is going to be a problem for you, I’ll help you make it right. Whatever parts you need. We can maybe even sell one or two of the guns to Diamondback—they’re in the same business, after all.”

“It’s not about that,” Jakub replied, leaning against the passenger side door. He watched for as long as he could as Cheshire strolled down the sidewalk toward his own car. “Don’t worry about me—I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but…” Hannah sighed, and she and Burke exchanged a look. “I’m sorry,” she finished.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jakub repeated. He believed her. But it didn’t matter.