“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” said Laila, half crouching beside him. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the fog. “Wait … there’s something there!”
“Where?”
Laila took off, scrambling up the sloped roof and disappearing into the gray, her gun drawn.
“Laila, wait …” Gideon followed her to the roofline. One misstep would send him sliding down the sloped shingles on either side.
Three quick pistol shots rang out from several yards ahead.
Fuck fuck fuck …
He picked up speed, running across the roofline, listening for the next shot. None came. When a silhouetted form appeared at the end of the row house roof, he drew his gun.
“Don’t move!”
The silhouette jumped, disappearing into the gray.
Gideon reached the edge of the roof but saw no sign of Laila. It was too far to jump from one length of row houses to the next, so Gideon dropped to the fire escape instead and vaulted down the steps.
Back on the ground, the fog thickened, obscuring the alley.
Another shot rang out, closer this time.
He headed toward it. “Laila!”
“I’m here,” she said, jogging into view. “I don’t think I hit them … but I saw them.” She bent over, hands on her knees, catching her breath. “They ran west.”
“How many?”
“Three, I think.”
Gideon glanced in the direction Laila had come from, trying to see. But the fog cloaked everything. It gave him a bad feeling.
“I think we should head back.”
“What? No. I almost had her!”
He shook his head. Something felt wrong about this whole situation. “We’re going back.”
Laila looked like she was going to refuse, but Gideon outranked her. So she fell silently into step beside him and they headed for the main street, the glow of the streetlamps lighting their way.
“I almost had her,” she said again.
When a sound came from behind them—like the swish of a cloak, or a careful footstep—the back of Gideon’s neck prickled. Laila tensed, hearing it too.
He glanced at her, his hand hovering close to his holstered pistol. Catching his gaze, she nodded. They turned as one, their guns raised to the fog, gazes flicking from one side of the street to the other.
“Show yourself,” growled Laila.
Movement in the shadows made the blood drum in Gideon’s ears. At the sound of another footstep, he pressed the trigger as far as it would go before firing.
A dark form solidified against the gray, stepping out of the fog. The figure pushed back their hood, revealing a familiar face. “Jumpy much?”
“Harrow,” they said in unison.
Gideon loosed a breath and lowered his weapon.
“You scared the shit out of us.”
Harrow’s hair was in its usual topknot, putting her missing ear on display. “I thought I’d see if you needed any backup.”
An unnerving thought occurred to Gideon.
The witches had disappeared into the fog, while Harrow had appeared out of it. He thought of Cressida, hiding in plain sight. Gideon was well acquainted with the kinds of tricks and deceptions witches were capable of.
Could Harrow be Cressida in disguise?
He immediately shook off the thought. Impossible. The amount of magic it would take to alter her appearance so drastically …
Gideon paused, thinking it through.
It would be possible for a witch as powerful as Cressida, but it would drain her considerably.
And I’d be able to smell the stench of magic on her.
Harrow smelled like … well, Harrow.
Normal. Not a witch.
For two years, he’d been trying to hunt down and unmask the Crimson Moth. But what if he’d been wasting his time? What if, all along, it was Cressida who was the true threat and walking amongst them? At the thought, bile rose, burning in his throat. He swallowed thickly.
“Seems like your raid was unsuccessful,” said Harrow, frowning, as they returned to the entrance of the print shop.
“They must have heard us enter the building.”
Up ahead, the three soldiers he’d sent into the alley were returning empty-handed. Leaving Harrow and Gideon, Laila went to grill the soldiers on what they’d seen. Gideon should send one of them to arrest the print shop owner and bring him to headquarters for questioning. Before the man fled.
Gideon stared through the windows of the print shop ahead. The lights were on, and he saw soldiers searching the premises. There might not be witches within, but there could be some clue as to what they’d been meeting about.