The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One V. Timlin (mobi reader .txt) 📖

is in my best interests, too, you know. When Stalo broke into my flat and tried to kill me, it became personal from that moment, if you know what I mean. I want to see that man face justice… whatever it takes.”

Nat gave her a soft smile. “Aye. It’s a deal then?”

She grabbed Nat’s hand. “It’s a deal.”

Chapter 7

The day was fading and the street lamps came alive, lighting the cobblestones in a yellow glow. The roads grew busier as tired-looking people returned home or headed to a pub after a long day at work. Anouk remembered from her history classes that during the Victorian times, people worked more hours and under very harsh conditions. Back then health and safety weren’t a priority. Was it the same here in Anglea? Judging by the bent backs and the way everyone dragged their feet, it seemed to be the case.

Maybe bounty hunting wasn’t such a bad career choice here after all. Conversely, it was significantly more dangerous. It might be one of the less respected professions though, if the attitudes in Anglea were anything akin to the Wild West or anywhere else for that matter where people were chasing criminals for monetary gain. But what it had that many other occupations lacked was freedom. If she decided to stay in this world—which she wouldn’t—she might consider doing this for a living. There was a certain appeal in being a steam era version of Boba Fett, although steam-powered jet packs might not be the safest. Luckily Nat didn’t have one!

Anouk glanced sideways. After she’d accepted his offer of partnership, Nat had said very little. Even now his expression was locked as if he was miles away. Was he already regretting the offer? He hadn’t even told her where they were going.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where are we heading?”

“To Flower Estate. There is a person we need to talk with.”

“Does that person know anything about Stalo and where he might hide?”

“Maybe.”

She threw her arms up, scowling at him. “Vying for an answer from you is like trying to get blood from a stone.”

Nat arched his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Partners are supposed to share information, not hold it back. You’re not working alone now, remember?”

“We are going to see Madam Valeria. She’s well connected and might have helpful information. We have done business before.”

“Sounds promising,” Anouk said. Madam Valeria… a well-connected businesswoman. That had a dubious sound to it. Perhaps it was better not jump to conclusions just yet.

The neighbourhoods they had walked through were all areas Anouk would have avoided walking alone, but now they came to an area that looked plain creepy to her. Although there were some gentlemen and ladies passing by in their carriages, the streets were the domain of drunken men, and women clad in outfits revealing enough to almost look normal to Anouk.

“What does Madam Valeria do for a living?” Anouk asked, glancing around. One drunken man had started to grope a woman’s breast. The woman giggled and pressed against him.

“She’s in the entertainment business,” Nat replied, once again adopting his neutral tone.

Anouk started to get an idea what that entertaining business would entail, soon realising that ‘Madam’ meant the same in Anglea as it sometimes meant back home. An uneasy thought passed her mind. Had Nat been getting something more than information from Madam Valeria? She frowned. And why should that bother her anyway? She wasn’t interested in him in that fashion. Yes, he was handsome and behaved like a gentleman—most of the time—but she couldn’t think of any kind of relationship with him; not now, not ever. They lived in two different worlds… literally. She wasn’t willing to give up her work, her home, and everything she had back in London. She rolled her eyes. Why was she even thinking such things?

“We are here,” Nat announced.

The building looked the same as all the others along the street—grey stone and blocky, with four storeys, and stairs leading to the first floor. Square, once-white window frames pierced the grey walls at regular intervals, and the only colourful feature was the red front door at the top of the stairs.

Next to the main stairs, another set of stairs led below to street level—Nat headed to those. Anouk grew warier with each descending step. Carriages stopped and departed in front of Madam Valeria’s house. Well-dressed gentlemen headed either to the red front door or came down the stairs before stepping into a carriage and driving away. Madam Valeria’s was obviously a very popular venue.

She halted, her foot hovering over the last step. The red door was for the gentleman customers, and the basement for the lower classes. That is why Nat chose the latter. This revelation did nothing to improve Anouk’s mood.

Nat pounded a dark brown door. A flap opened and a pair of stern eyes stared back at them. “Yes?”

“We wish to speak with Madam Valeria.”

“She’s occupied.”

“Tell her it’s Nat Walla.”

The flap was closed with a zap and without another word.

“I don’t think Madam Valeria will see us, or at least that ‘Mr Sunshine’ won’t let us in,” Anouk said.

Nat leaned back against the wall. “Wait for it.”

“You sound sure. What kind of business dealings have you had with her?”

“Sharing information and intelligence.”

“Information, eh?”

Confusion passed over Nat’s face. “Yes. Why?”

“You know.” Anouk tilted her head towards the red door.

“Ah.” A smile tugged the corner of Nat’s mouth. “You don’t approve?”

A burning sensation spread on Anouk’s face and neck. “You’re right. Whatever you do with Madam Valeria is none of my business. My only concern is how it affects the mission and my return home.”

Nat said nothing, but kept looking at Anouk with an amused expression.

Anouk scowled at him. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re implying. You’re not my type.”

“I’m not?” Nat pressed his hand on his chest as if his feelings were hurt, but laughter danced in his eyes. “What is your type then?”

“Who said I liked men?” There, let him taste