Chapter 2 – The Muscle

Cheshire woke before dawn and hurried, already smiling to himself, to meet the day.

The living space his new boss had offered him was more a room than an apartment, but it suited him fine. He dashed to the floor’s communal bathrooms and didn’t mind so much that the water was cold. It only helped him wake all the sooner. After a quick wash he dressed in the better of his two waistcoats with its matching tie, and set out into the city.

Despite still being new to Brooklyn, Cheshire had already gained a strong familiarity with the streets and shops. Nearly his first order of business had been to locate a tailor, and he visited often enough to have already ingratiated himself with the owner. A gruff fellow, but accepting enough of free help from a sturdy youth to carry bolts of heavy fabric. Cheshire was confident his offers would materialize in part time employment and discounts on attire very soon.

Because life as a gangster required, above all else, maintaining a suitable persona. Of that he was quite convinced.

On the way back he stopped at a bakery, purchasing a half dozen pastries. He ate one along the way, sure to use the bag to hold it with so he wouldn’t have to remove his gloves. Upon returning to the Kozlow building his next order of business was to knock on the door next to his.

The Boss said we’re partners now, he thought, and he grinned as the door opened.

Jakub stood in the doorway, staring at him. Even outside the context of their work, he was every inch the gangster Cheshire had imagined from reading too many periodicals: stern- faced despite his youth, thick eyebrows drawn in, suspenders hanging loose. As he was wearing only an undershirt Cheshire got a clear look at the tattoo of some kind of seal on his left shoulder, eagle wings spreading from it out toward his chest and collar.

“Good morning!” Cheshire greeted, and he turned the open end of the bag toward him. “Hungry?”

Jakub stared back at him for a beat, intense and intimidating, but he did reach into the bag and pull out a scone. “Thanks,” he said. “Do you need something?”

“Hm? No, just saying good morning.” Cheshire considered it a success when Jakub took a bite, and he beamed. “Any new work for us?”

“No.” Jakub considered him for a while longer and then stepped back. “Come in.”

“Thanks!”

Cheshire stepped inside. The apartment wasn’t much different from his, other than a set of tools strewn on the table, but he was inordinately glad to get to see it. “I had fun the other night,” he said as he moved about the small space, checking it out. “I was kind of hoping we’d get to do it again soon.”

Jakub frowned around a mouthful of scone and then gulped it down. “It’s not about fun,” he scolded. “It’s work.”

“I know. But if it’s what we do, we might as well enjoy it, right?” He shrugged as he peeked out Jakub’s window, spying on the skyscrapers under construction in the distance. “It’s not like that guy needed the money.”

When he glanced back, he gulped at the sight of Jakub watching him very seriously. Did I say something wrong? he thought, and his mind spun between different options for trying to smooth over any offense. But then Jakub swallowed down his latest bite and asked, “Are you asking so you can make your magic again?”

Cheshire gulped again, as anxious about Jakub asking as he was excited to get to use his powers. “I mean…that’s why I’m here, right?” he said, faking confidence. “It’s why the boss hired me on in the first place.”

Jakub nodded thoughtfully as he continued to munch on his breakfast. “Did you tell everyone?” he continued to press. “Show everyone?”

“I’m not even sure who ‘everyone’ is at this point,” Cheshire admitted. “I’ve only really met just you, the boss, and Ms. Zak. Why?” He frowned. “Should I not?”

“I have seen magic before, but not like that,” said Jakub. “No one else at Kozlow can make magic. You should be careful.” “Yeah…okay.” Cheshire didn’t really understand his concern, but then, he hadn’t been in possession of magic long enough to know any better himself. So he nodded, grateful that Jakub was taking the time to counsel him at all. “Speaking of Ms. Zak, does she live in the building? I was going to offer her one of these.” He hefted the bag.

Jakub blinked at him in surprise. “You want to offer Hannah scone?”

“Well, sure! If you think she’d like one…?”

Jakub’s brow furrowed again, and though Cheshire was at a loss to interpret his otherwise blank expression, it encouraged him more than it intimidated, at least in the moment. “Sure,” he said, and he tugged his suspenders on properly while heading toward a sweater draped over the bed. “Let’s find Hannah.”

Jakub led him up the stairs, not speaking as they went. Cheshire was fairly sure he was being drawn into some kind of trap, but he didn’t mind. He assumed that if they were going to be partners from now on, some friendly harassment was expected. And sure enough, when Hannah came to the door, she certainly didn’t seem like a woman interested in sweet pastries: her long brown hair was swept back, her sloping features tight with bewilderment and maybe even irritation at the offering. The descriptor “humorless” came to mind. But, just as Jakub had, she at last accepted one.

Jakub’s expression didn’t exactly change, but he did watch Hannah expectantly as she took the first bite, and Cheshire got the distinct impression that he found the whole affair amusing for some reason. Were scones really so unheard of in the Kozlow building? Or was Jakub’s sense of humor simply unique? In either case, Cheshire was determined to find out.

“It’s good,” Hannah begrudgingly admitted. “And it’s a good thing you’re both here. We have work to do today.”

***

Jakub pulled the trigger five times. All five cans were sent tumbling into the grass.

Beside him, Cheshire let out a whistle. Jakub felt himself blush and hoped nobody would notice.

“That’s what we need you to do eventually,” said Barney while Hannah reset the cans for them along the wooden fence. “Give it a try.”

Cheshire made a face. He was on all counts a ridiculous image: a broad-shouldered brute of a teen in a tailored waistcoat and patterned tie, standing in the middle of a country goat pen, scowling childishly at their expectations of him. For the life of him Jakub couldn’t figure out why the boss had thought bringing him was a good idea. The Winslow Farm was an important waypoint for them—their reputations were at stake. They had plenty of hands for loading the barrels. But once Kasper had suggested their newest member tag along for the pickup, Cheshire hadn’t been able to shut up about it, and here they were, denting cans to pass the time before nightfall.

“I don’t see the point of this,” said Cheshire, his spirits far lower than earlier.

“You’re in the Kozlow Gang, now,” said Barney as he reloaded the revolver. “You gotta at least be able to shoot.”

“What for?”

“Because we’re not a knitting club—take the gun.”

Cheshire made another face, but he accepted the revolver. He immediately slipped his finger over the trigger, and Jakub frowned with the realization that he had probably never even held a gun before. Still, he watched closely as Cheshire braced his feet and lifted his arm. He’d been surprised before.

Cheshire fired. Then again. The third clipped the fence post. He heaved a sigh.

“Why does this matter?” he asked again, frustrated. “Keep that gun pointed away,” said Jakub, taking

Cheshire’s wrist. He pointed him back toward the cans. “Open both eyes. Focus.” He reached around Cheshire to tug his other hand up as well. “Both hands.”

“Only because you’re asking so nicely,” Cheshire teased, and Jakub felt his ears go hot again. “Anything else?”

Jakub backed off. “Aim.”

Cheshire smiled, closing one eye and then opening it again as he took aim. “You’re gonna warm up to me one of these days,” he said, and he pulled the trigger.

Again, he completely missed. Standing off to the side with her arms crossed, Hannah snorted in amusement. The remaining two shots clipped the fence again but he still managed to not hit metal.

“Really, Bloom,” Barney scolded.

Cheshire scowled again, letting the gun drop. Jakub knew what came next, even if the others didn’t. Without a word of warning Cheshire aimed his palm at the offending can, and it exploded in a burst of fire.

Hannah and Barney jumped, lurching away from the blast. Jakub only shielded his eyes. Even twenty paces away he could feel the heat against his face, and his nostrils tickled with the familiar and unnatural tang of magic. It was undeniably impressive, though he wasn’t surprised to see shock and fear in Barney’s eyes. Barney had never been well prepared for real power let alone real violence.

Then the second can exploded, and even Jakub flinched. His heart thudded and before he could get a word out Cheshire destroyed each target one by one. But apparently that wasn’t good enough, because once he reached the final can, the entire wooden post it had been resting on shattered with a roar like thunder. Even Cheshire joined his peers in ducking and swearing beneath a hail of charred woodchips. Jakub felt them patter against his scalp, but it was the odor of burning hair that sent his heart racing. He slapped and raked at his head until the heat began to dissipate. As he righted himself, the others were doing the same, and they all stared, slack jawed, as the fence crumpled around its missing beam.

“Fuck me,” Barney hissed as he took his cap off, smacking it against his knee. “What the fuck was that?”

Jakub looked to Cheshire; he didn’t know what he expected, knew even less what to make of the look of blank surprise he was met with. For a brief moment he thought he even saw fright. But then Cheshire lit up with a grin, proud and even beaming. He turned to Jakub with pure delight. “Did you see that?”

Jakub was speechless. He didn’t get the chance to reply anyway, because it was then that Kasper and the rest of their crew emerged from the farmhouse.

“What in God’s name is going on out here?” Kasper demanded. He marched straight over to Barney, looking ready to give him a beating. “The hell did you do to Winslow’s fence?” “It was him!” Barney pointed emphatically to Cheshire, whose expression had frozen halfway between excitement and dread. “He’s some kind of fucking witch!”

Kasper’s anger immediately changed; his eyes narrowed on Cheshire, suspicious but intrigued. Without giving Barney a second glance he turned to Jakub. “Is that true?” he asked.

Jakub started to answer, but Cheshire apparently couldn’t contain himself any longer. “It was me!” he declared, but then he quickly sobered once he took note of the rest of the gang eyeing him warily, not to mention Hannah muttering curses at him as she used her fingers to comb debris out of her long hair. He even looked to Jakub; Jakub had no idea what kind of face he was making, but it didn’t seem to be encouraging.

“It was me,” Cheshire said again, his enthusiasm far more restrained but still inescapable. “Sir. Sorry, sir, we were… target practicing…?”

Kasper regarded him coldly for a long moment and then turned again to Jakub. “Well?”

“It was him,” Jakub confirmed. “Like I said you before.” “I see.” Kasper gave his beard a thoughtful stroke as he stepped back. “Then the four of you can fix it. There’s wood in the barn. Have it up before the Fouchers get here.” “Sir.”

Kasper turned back toward the farmhouse, but paused when he realized that everyone was still gawking at the fence. “Well, don’t stand there,” he said, gesturing impatiently. “Get to it—all of you.” Only after they jarred to life did he continue back inside.

Cheshire stared at the fence, his face still a youthful mix of pride and bashfulness. As irritating as Jakub found it, he couldn’t help but admit that there was also something charming about that much enthusiasm. Not that it would last in their line of work. “Bloom.”

Cheshire startled, and he seemed to go through several expressions before settling on uneasy hope. “That was something, huh?” he said.

Jakub rolled his eyes and took hold of Cheshire’s elbow to drag him toward the barn. “Come on. You carry the wood.”

Cheshire allowed himself to be led. “Uh, sorry I got you in trouble,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I got carried away.”

“I understand wanting to shut up Barney,” Jakub admitted. “But did you intend to hit a fence?”

Cheshire squirmed, though he didn’t try to shake Jakub’s hand off him. “Well, sure! Mostly. I think.” When Jakub shot him a steely look, he relented. “No, not really.”

They reached the barn, and as soon as they were inside Jakub pulled Cheshire into the corner. “Look at me,” he said, and he actually felt a little better right away when he saw Cheshire gulp. “Can you not control it?”

“I can,” Cheshire replied quickly. “Mostly. I mean, I’m still learning—I haven’t exactly had many opportunities to, you know.”

“Bomb things?”

“Yeah, that.” Cheshire squirmed some more beneath Jakub’s stare. “But I am getting better at it! Um…sorry.”

Jakub sighed, running his fingers through his hair again to be absolutely sure he’d gotten all the splinters out. “Bloom, today is serious,” he said, lowering his voice to impart as much gravity as possible. “The Fouchers, they bring us whiskey. We take it, we sell it. It’s important. You understand that?”

Thankfully, it appeared that Cheshire did. “Yeah, I understand.”

“The Boss brought you because you are new,” Jakub went on, since he had Cheshire’s full attention. “When Fouchers come, keep your mouth shut and move barrels. You’re the big man—look serious. That is your job. Okay?”

Cheshire made the attempt, but a grin crept into the corner of his mouth. “The big man?” he repeated.

“Don’t be a ass,” Jakub retorted. “You understand me.” “I know—I do—I’m sorry.” Cheshire held his hands up in surrender even though he was still smiling. “I get it: I’ll be good.”

“Good.”

A few of the others were entering the barn, so Jakub turned away to help them root out some wood to replace the fencepost. Cheshire followed a step behind.

“But it’s an ass,” Cheshire corrected him playfully. “A big man. An ass.” Another long, icy stare had him surrendering again. “I’m just trying to help!” he said, but as the seconds ticked by he tried a different tactic. “Seriously, I’m not making fun of you. How long have you been in America? Your English really is good.”

Jakub scowled and continued on, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket. That time he knew just what face he was making, and Cheshire read it loud and clear. “Sorry,” Cheshire apologized awkwardly again. “That was patronizing. I didn’t mean…” He followed Jakub’s example of unbuttoning his cuffs. “It’s just, I speak a whole lot of English. You may have noticed. So, I could help you? If you wanted?”

Jakub tried to ignore him, but he couldn’t help himself; he looked. And Cheshire looked so damn earnest, it was impossible not to feel a tug of sympathy. He sighed. “It’s ‘told you before,’ isn’t it?” he said. “Not ‘said you before.’”

“Yeah,” said Cheshire, almost as a sigh, as if he had been restraining himself all along. “Told you, or said to you. But ‘told you’ is better.”

“Told you,” Jakub muttered to himself. “I told you. Told you so….” He shook his head and waved for Cheshire to go on. “Look, they found wood. Go help them carry—I’ll find the hammer and nails.”

“Okay!”

Cheshire trotted off, and Jakub rubbed his face, no idea what to do with himself.

***

Cheshire wasn’t any better at rebuilding a fence than he was shooting, but he followed Jakub’s every instruction. With the entire crew working to save face they managed to have the post replaced and beams nailed long before the Foucher trucks sputtered up the lane. Only then did Kasper emerge again from the house, and they formed ranks in the yard outside the barn, putting on a good show as usual. Jakub turned to Cheshire, expecting to have to remind him of his manners, but he didn’t have to.

Cheshire took one deep breath, and his demeanor changed. With his hands in his pockets he squared his broad shoulders to the incoming Fouchers, back straight, eyes confident and alert. No one would have found him out of place among the experienced criminals beside him, and even if they did, he would have been more easily mistaken for an underboss than a teenaged lackey. Jakub almost didn’t believe what he was seeing, and it wasn’t until he heard the slam of a truck door that he jarred back to proper attention.

The Foucher family disembarked, and at the head was Lottie Foucher herself: a sturdy, brick house of a woman with natural hair pulled back in charmingly haphazard puffs. Jakub had met her a dozen times before and never ceased to be impressed by the strength of her bearing as she marched up to Boss Kozlow, shaking his hand with an iron grip. It was only after he’d handed her a satchel, and she’d hefted it to judge the weight, that she broke into a friendly grin. “Kasper, you old goat. I brought you the good stuff.”

Kasper pulled a face and motioned for his crew to get to work. “I’d hope so.”

Hannah directed the transfer of barrels from one set of trucks to the others. Jakub kept his head down and followed instructions, as he was used to, and was relieved to see Cheshire doing the same. Even Barney, still cowed from earlier, was a good little soldier. Kasper and Lottie stood back, talking business. Jakub caught a word here and there, but it wasn’t until he heard fence that his attention tuned in to them. And by then it was too late.

“Bloom,” called Kasper. “Come over here.”

Jakub was in the middle of loading a barrel; there was no way for him to disengage without drawing attention. He watched with breath held as Cheshire happily obeyed. The three of them stood close together, conversing in low tones Jakub had no hope of overhearing. He couldn’t believe it, but Cheshire’s face remained chiseled in an expression of calm professionalism the entire time. But by the time Jakub had finished with the barrel and turned back, Lottie was pulling something out of her jacket pocket, motioning to Cheshire in a terribly foreboding way.

Jakub started toward them; it would have been entirely inappropriate for him to interrupt, but he couldn’t help himself. Before he had a word in his mouth, Lottie tossed what looked like her pipe toward the open field. Cheshire lifted his hand, and with a loud percussion and a burst of fire, the pipe exploded overhead.

Everyone turned in alarm; the Foucher kids even reached for their guns. Lottie’s hearty laughter calmed them down. “Now that is something,” she declared, smacking Cheshire heartily on the back. “You’re gonna lend him to me sometime, Kas.”

“For a price,” replied Kasper.

Beside him, Cheshire smiled, modest and even a little charming. But Jakub could see the pinch of his eyes that proved what an effort that much humility was.

Lottie and her family didn’t stick around after the whiskey had been loaded; she and Kasper shared only a brief toast, and then she was on her way, headlights disappearing south. Once they were out of sight, Kasper ordered his crew to do the same. They would need to arrive in the city before dawn if they were going to avoid drawing suspicion. As everyone began to load up, Jakub wasn’t surprised to see Cheshire edging cautiously toward him.

Jakub waved him closer, but once they were face to face he had no idea what to say. The air of maturity Cheshire had suddenly mastered was unexpectedly unnerving. He cleared his throat. “Well.”

“I did okay, right?” Cheshire asked, and Jakub couldn’t help but blush again beneath the intensity of his focus. “For that last part, anyway.”

Jakub hemmed. He didn’t want to encourage him, but then again…. “Fine,” he replied stiffly. “For that last part.”

It wasn’t much encouragement, certainly not as much as Cheshire actually deserved for restraining himself through the Foucher meeting. Even so, it seemed to be all he needed; he grinned openly and may have even blushed a little himself. “There, see? You’re starting to like me.”

“But I just….”

There was no point in saying more, though, because by then Cheshire was already climbing into the truck. With a sigh, Jakub followed. Maybe he would be lucky, and his partner would keep up the act a while longer. It was not to be—as soon as Cheshire settled next to Hannah, he turned to her, beaming. “It really was something, right? That explosion?”

Hannah groaned, and Jakub hunkered down in his seat, trying to ignore the warmth of Cheshire’s shoulder against his. It was a very long drive back to the city.