Constantine Capers: The Pennington Perplexity Natalie Brianne (best summer reads of all time .txt) 📖

why they had to make it look like an accident.” She clucked her tongue. Mira could hardly believe her ears. Was she talking about her parents?

Mira heard footsteps coming from down the corridor. She sped down the hall in the opposite direction and froze next to a different door, listening. No sound came from behind it. She tried the handle. Unlocked. She slipped inside. It was a broom closet. She hoped the owner of those shoes didn’t need a broom. The footsteps came down the hallway, passed her hiding place, and then quieted as they went away. She added a few items to her mental list.

5. She now had some evidence that her parents had been murdered.

6. They knew about Pennington, so they had to have been involved there. And others had died.

7. They knew about Byron.

8. Circe had to be something of importance.

She waited until she couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore and then left the brooms behind, making her way further up the hallway.

She came to an intersection, uncertain which direction to tiptoe in. She looked for stairs. Stairs would lead to the upstairs which would lead to the door and freedom. She wished that she had been awake when they had brought her in. Then she would know where to go. As it was, she didn’t have a clue. She turned left and passed several other doors, all locked. She doubted the exit would be locked, and she didn’t have time to pick every single one. Eventually the hallway came to a dead end. She muttered under her breath, “Of course,” and snuck back the way she came.

That was when she heard footsteps coming from ahead of her, from the corridor where she had turned. Her only chance was to beat them to the intersection and find the stairs before they noticed her. She bit her lip and started sprinting as silently as she could.

Unfortunately, she ran right into him at the corner. They crashed to the ground. Mira struggled with her assailant, attempting to get up. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up to standing. She struggled against him, hitting his chest and speaking harshly at him in French.

“Mira, Mira, it’s me.” Byron held her fast. She looked up at him with surprise and relief.

“Byron, thank goodness.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We need to get out of here.”

He let her go and took her hand to run in the opposite direction. They reached the end of that hallway and turned onto the next, finding a set of stairs with a door at the top. He let go of her hand and listened at the door before opening it and pulling her through. They were in the back of a butcher shop. She could smell the rot of carcasses, hanging lifeless for far too long. He glanced around for a moment, and then finding that it was safe, continued out of the shop.

Once on the street, he ran again, keeping ahold of her wrist. She stumbled several times, but didn’t fall. He didn’t stop running until they had moved at least ten blocks away. He made a sharp turn around a corner and stopped, letting go of her hand, and leaning against the wall to catch his breath. Mira had trouble catching hers as well. It was several minutes before he spoke.

“I don’t think I knew that you spoke French.”

She looked up at him in disbelief. “I get kidnapped, and that is the first thing you ask me?”

“Sorry, but if I knew I didn’t write it down.” He was disheveled and exhausted. It occurred to Mira that he remembered her.

“Were you up all night?”

“Well, I couldn’t very well sleep and risk not finding you. I had to follow them.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Now let’s get you back to my place. It should be safe there.”

He walked with a purpose in the direction of Kensington, and Mira followed. He eventually called a hansom cab and helped her into it. At one point, he had the driver stop so he could get out and give a message to a courier. Mira turned to him as he got back in.

“What was that for?”

“I sent a message to Scotland Yard. They need to get there before the smugglers realize you’ve gone missing. As soon as they know you are gone, they will leave the butcher shop without a trace.”

“Oh. I see.”

They made it back to Palace Court, and he helped her out of the carriage and onto the street. He paid the driver and then hurried Mira inside. Only once she was sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in her hand did he relax.

“Are you hurt?” His face had softened with concern. Or perhaps it was exhaustion. Mira wasn’t sure.

“Other than a few bumps and bruises, I’m fine.”

“I’m afraid I need you to tell me what you know.”

She relayed everything that had happened to her and Byron wrote her account down. When she was finished, he looked up at her.

“You really are quite clever. Thinking to throw them off that way. And picking the lock.”

“Well, I had just watched you.”

“Still. You probably would have gotten out on your own even if I hadn’t come.”

“I’m glad you did.”

He smiled. “I would be upset at myself for allowing you to come but you were right. I needed you.”

She could feel a blush rising. He continued. “And now thanks to your brilliance, they’ve given away the fact that they were involved with Pennington. And Circe. And your parents’ accident. Somehow.” He smiled at her. She felt herself turning more red.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Mira.”

“No. It’s quite alright. I blush at the drop of a hat, really.”

“I’ve noticed.” He looked at her and his gaze got deep again. She looked down. Then she cleared her throat and looked up at him again.

“What is Circe?”

“Nothing you need to worry about at the moment.”

“You weren’t going to tell me your plans for last night either, Byron.”

“This is different. If it comes up