loving the attention. “A chance to own a piece of history that you wouldn’t normally get a crack at. Julian and Birdie, you’ve been warned. This crowd can be quite bloodthirsty.”
Light amusement rippled through the room. It set my teeth on edge.
“There’s a reason why we wear masks,” Ward added.
Masks?
“But our benefactor likes to see all of us dine together the evening before. To cement the bonds of trust that make what we do so special. I’ve loved antiques since my first archeology class in college. But I’ve never had the privilege to be with this many like-minded people until our circle was formed. It’s not about old wounds or previous misconceptions. You can act on that tomorrow night. Tonight is about civility and celebrating our values.”
I gulped half of my martini by accident, coughing at the burn. The sound rang out in the hushed room.
Ward stared at me like a vulture.
“Sorry,” I said weakly.
The man strode confidently to the scarlet-red door in the far corner of the room. As he opened it, I caught a glimpse of utter darkness just as the bodyguard appeared. In his hand was a tray of lit candles.
“Philadelphia is a city filled with secrets. Like the bootleggers, we of The Empty House understand that laws are meant to be…” He paused here, to a few nervous giggles. “Stretched and manipulated to fit our liking. Like the bootleggers, we are the tributaries between the auction houses and the black market. We are the navigators of murky waters, my friends. And yet who here isn’t afraid to get a little murky once in a while?” He gave a charming wink to Cora, who flushed like a princess. “Tonight we descend beneath the streets to travel the paths criminals traveled before us. And tonight we dine and celebrate the rare and the antique in a building that is sublimely rare and antique.”
The guard passed him a candle, which painted his face in a ghoulish light. He was going to take us into that dark room, and I was already not okay. Two sets of candles were passed our way. Sam took one, I took the other. The room was rustling as the nine others began gathering their things while balancing their candles.
Sam dipped his head to my ear.
“Tight spaces still make you nervous?”
“Yes,” I whispered back. So he had known. He nodded but didn’t say another word.
“Come, come,” Ward waved us over. The guard followed closely—a lurking presence at our back. Thomas and Cora were in front of us, Roy nearby. Once we were in a tight circle, Ward stepped to the very front and led us through the red door. A narrow hallway led to a steep flight of stairs.
“Watch your step, Birdie,” Sam said. And then he threaded his fingers through mine. His grip was firm. His thumb stroked the inside of my palm as I silently freaked out. I didn’t like dark spaces in general. As a kid, my mother would keep our tiny house blazing with light to eliminate the shadows. My mother was claustrophobic too and understood the fear of tight spaces. Find something good to focus on, she used to tell me. Now I tethered myself to the sensation of Sam’s hand in my own—callouses on his fingers, the short hairs on his wrist. The way he’d sought to comfort me immediately.
Maybe we could be partners, after all.
There was more nervous laughter from the front as we descended into the darkness. But I was only aware of the blood rushing in my ears and the guard behind me. I was so distracted I almost didn’t notice when the floor leveled out, the low tunnel stretching far ahead. It was cool, almost cold, and I could hear water dripping all around us. I squeezed Sam’s hand, and he squeezed back, pressing the sides of our bodies together.
Everyone stopped. All I could see was Dr. Bradley Ward illuminated in the center, smiling in the flickering candlelight.
“Have no fear, Julian and Birdie,” Ward said. “Everyone struggles with the path we take to our annual dinner the first time they do it. But it’s not to invoke a threat, I promise.”
The low grunt I heard from Sam matched my own assessment. Which was bullshit, it’s not a threat. Dr. Ward was in control of this show—from the bodyguard to this creepy tunnel trail. And he wanted you to know it.
“Where…” I coughed again, throat dry, “Where are we?”