Page 26

Gunning leaned against the side of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, his features impassive. “Erebus, huh?”

Grace blinked innocently. “Yes.”

“And the only thing you found odd was his appearance, not his name?”

“Well—”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know the name!” he demanded as he moved toward her, his brows drawn together in a frown. “This has been the most popular name in criminal circles for the past few years. You know so much about the Brotherhood; do not tell me you know nothing about The Shadows and their infamous leader. He has been blackmailing the aristocrats for years, and now they’re dying and you did not make the connection?”

Grace swallowed. “I didn’t find it odd exactly because the name is so popular. Anyone wanting to hide their true name could use it! Of course, I’ve heard about The Shadows, but I don’t know a single person who belongs to this group because, unlike the Brotherhood, they do not parade any kind of mark on their bodies. And yes, I know about the blackmail, but it has nothing—” to do with the murders. Grace couldn’t say it out loud. The blackmail done in the name of Erebus in the last few years was actually her friend William, impersonating the man. William wasn’t exactly a righteous man, but he was not a cold-blooded killer either. Hot-blooded, perhaps. He was ready to unsheathe his sword if anyone wronged him. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t kill anyone in cold blood. Mentioning any of this wouldn’t help Gunning in his mission, however. It would only make him trust her less.

“It has nothing… to do with this?” Gunning raised a brow.

His face was so close to hers that she could see the golden flecks of light dancing in his dark irises. Once again, he attempted to intimidate with his proximity. Grace dropped her gaze to his lips. She used her flirtatious nature to deflect the attention.

He had beautiful lips. Wide, hard, intense. She returned her gaze to his eyes and his gaze softened.

“As you said, it is a very popular name in London right now. Anyone could use it. In fact, it would be incredibly foolish for the real Erebus to use his alias.”

“Unless he wanted us to know it was him.”

“And risk getting exposed? Pshaw!” Grace waved the idea away. “That would be incredibly foolish.”

“Or arrogant,” Gunning countered with a shrug. “To walk into a brothel right beneath everyone’s noses, use his alias, kill a man, and walk out. Now, that would make a real statement, wouldn’t it?”

Grace swallowed. The talk about donning secret identities and walking right in front of other people’s noses was making her really uncomfortable, considering she was hiding behind a disguise herself and walking around with the thief-taker pretending to be who she was not.

“Fine,” she conceded. “Let’s say you’re right and he is the killer and the real Erebus. How do we find him?”

He took the papers and stacked them against the desk. “I have contacts in the aristocratic world, and you might not know this, but they… write notes to each other. Some of them might recognize the penmanship.”

“Pft, if it was this easy to find out who the signature belongs to—”

“It is, to professionals like me,” he interrupted swiftly, his nimble fingers clutching the papers to his chest.

“These papers are confidential.”

“I shall be very discreet.”

“By showing it to God knows who? No. You are not taking them with you.” Grace reached for the papers, but he held them away from her.

“I am only asking for forty-eight hours. I will bring them back in the same condition that I’ve taken them.”

“Respectfully”—she reached around him and took the papers back—“I do not trust you with them. And if someone figures out that I gave the logbook to the thief-taker, I risk not having a single client return after that.”

“If I don’t find the murderer, you might never reopen. And you might even get arrested.”

“Good luck with solving the murder, then.”

“You heard them, right? They will put a price on your head and every harlot who worked with you! Are you willing to risk it because you don’t trust me?”

“I can deal with them on my own. Nobody leaves this place with papers from the logbook.” She paused. “At least they don’t leave alive.”

“Are you threatening me?” He took a menacing step toward her.

“What if I am?” She held her ground.

The thief-taker had the gall to look around as if wondering who Grace was talking to. “You do realize that I can easily overpower you?”