The three of us moved swiftly and stealthily off the train and through the bustle of the platform. As we headed toward the exit, my eye landed on three policemen huddled in the center of the station. One turned toward me, his gaze resting on my face for a moment before moving on to scan the rest of the crowd. My shoulders relaxed. No one was suspicious of us.
The area surrounding the station was a world away from the ornate buildings Damon preferred, all gilt and gleaming marble. These buildings were crowded together and boarded up, and no one seemed to be around. The air felt heavy, as if it held all the city’s dirt suspended around us.
Dark clouds were gathering overhead. “Looks like it’s going to rain,” I said. I shook my head as soon as I said it, disgusted with my attempt at small talk. I sounded like a farmer talking to my neighbor.
Simple Stefan, I imagined a smooth, dulcet voice teasing. I shook away the thought of Katherine.
“I suppose so,” Damon said in his maddening noncommittal drawl, as though he was still in Virginia and had all the time in the world.
“Are you boys just going to stand there, or are you ready to follow me?” Cora asked, putting her tiny hands on her hips.
Damon and I glanced at each other and nodded. “We’re ready if you are,” Damon said.
Cora quickly got her bearings, then took off through the winding, sprawling streets of West London toward the sludgy, slow-moving River Thames. I used to think the Thames was majestic, flowing into the Atlantic Ocean and connecting London to the world. Now, it looked murky and malevolent. I followed a few steps behind Cora, alert to any signs of Samuel, outraged citizens, or the Metropolitan Police. Every so often, I’d see a tumble of chestnut- brown curls cascading down a slim back and would glance quickly away. Even now, when I had so much on my mind, Katherine haunted me.
As we continued to walk along the river toward the pedestrian bridge across the Thames, familiar sights of London loomed before us. I could see the domed chapel of St. Paul’s Cathedral, and farther down, Big Ben. Beyond that were warehouses that abutted the river. The warehouses where Samuel had held Cora under compulsion and where Violet had been turned into a vampire. London was a study in contrasts, with the church spires that reached toward the heavens masking the hellish underbelly that we were steeped in.
Soon, we found ourselves on the Strand, the street closest to the Thames and one of the city’s commercial epicenters. I caught a few people staring at us suspiciously. I wasn’t surprised. In our bloodstained, dirt-caked clothes, we looked worse than the beggars who often hung about the city squares.
“We’re almost there,” Cora said, also sensing the sideways glances of passersby. She smoothed her dress, put back her shoulders, and marched across the bridge without a backward glance.
“She’s a good one to have around,” Damon observed as he fell into step beside me.
“She is,” I agreed. For once, my brother and I were on the same page.
On the opposite bank, Cora neatly turned down a set of winding stone steps leading to the edge of the river. The area under the bridge housed nothing apart from a giant hole in the ground, covered over with wooden planks and iron beams. This must have been a construction site for an Underground station. I remembered George Abbott telling me about these trains. The plan was to connect all of London via a web of underground train tunnels. The city’s goal was to have a functional line by the turn of the century. But judging by the state of the hole, the crew wasn’t in any hurry. The area looked abandoned.
I trailed behind Cora like an obedient puppy as she picked her way through the site. A KEEP OUT sign was tacked on a nearby post and a low post and wire fence surrounded the hole. Some worker had made a halfhearted attempt to cover the opening with a sheet of canvas, but I could see the top of a thin wooden ladder poking out. Cora stopped nearby.
“It’s not exactly the Cumberland Hotel, is it, brother?” Damon asked wryly.
She ignored Damon’s quip, focused on the task at hand. “We can get down this way,” she said, climbing over the makeshift fence.
“But is it safe?” I asked skeptically. How did Cora know how to sneak into the Underground?
“Of course. Violet and I slept here once, so if it’s safe enough for two women, it should be safe for any vampire,” Cora said. Her voice had a teasing edge to it.
“You slept down here by yourselves?”
Cora shrugged. “We didn’t have any money. We promised to pay the boardinghouse as soon as we had jobs, but they kicked us out. I knew we shouldn’t sleep on the streets, so we used to walk all night. We’d start by the Ten Bells and then make our way over to here. We’d follow the river and tell each other stories to pass the time. We’d let ourselves rest as soon as it got to be light. But then one night, Violet was near delusional with exhaustion, and we found this,” she explained, gesturing to the tunnel. “It’s shelter, and when you’re friendless and surrounded by enemies, there’s no place better,” she said, arching an eyebrow at Damon as she yanked the canvas back and swung one leg, then the other, onto the ladder. She clambered down into the darkness, quickly trailed by Damon.
“Wait!” I called, but there was no answer. Just as I stepped onto the first shaky rung of the ladder, I heard a sickening thud from below.
“Cora?” I called out desperately as I quickly climbed deeper into the pit. “Damon?”
“Here!” Cora said. “I’m all right. Just mind—”
I took a step, expecting to feel a rung below my feet. Instead, my foot fell through air, and I landed with a thud on my back.