To Sketch a Sphinx - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,8
in this room?” Hal made a point of looking at the rest of the room’s occupants. “How ambitious.”
John exhaled in irritation and gave her a dark look. “Are you going to be like this for the entire mission?”
She met his eyes squarely. “Probably.”
Dipping his chin in acknowledgement, John looked at Tailor. “Do I have to agree in the vows?”
Tailor frowned, then gestured to the quiet man still sitting behind them. “Priest here will see that everything is done properly, and he’ll also see that evidence is destroyed properly when the time comes.”
Hal folded her arms across her chest, rocking herself up on the balls of her feet, then back down. “And if something goes wrong with that evidence destruction?”
“Then you may have a marriage in name only, and we will set the pair of you up with false identities to start a life somewhere else,” Tailor responded with more candor than John expected. “Happy?”
A small smile crossed Hal’s lips, rendering her features somehow fairer and yet more feral, her eyes narrowing. “So, you’re saying we won’t be damned for bigamy. You can arrange that?”
“For heaven’s sake, Hal,” Weaver groaned as Priest coughed in surprise from his seat.
“What?” Hal inquired with a shrug of her trim shoulders. “I don’t want to be kept out of Heaven for the sake of your most convenient arrangement.”
Tailor sighed and glanced behind him. “Priest?”
“Tailor?” came the apparently easy answer.
“Can you ensure the state of Hal’s immortal soul with regards to this matter?”
The question was a ridiculous one, and John couldn’t believe they were indulging her like this. It wasn’t an ideal situation for beginning a mission, it was true, and the permanence of the connection might have been in question, but the reasoning was sound, as were the potential ramifications. He wouldn’t claim to know much about the Almighty, but surely the value in their mission, and the righteous valor of their assignment, would outweigh any technicality as far as their eternal fate was concerned.
If Hal possessed a spiritual or religious bone in her body, he would be astonished. Knowing that, he could only suspect that she was toying with their superiors and doing all she could to draw this out.
Why, exactly, was less certain, but he was weary with the game already.
“Probably,” Priest affirmed with a nod. “I have it on good authority that he is a most forgiving being, and if he allows me to continue to lead part of his flock, with all my missions have required of me, I cannot see him being particularly stringent on this matter.”
It was all John could do not to roll his eyes.
Hal seemed almost disgruntled by the statement, which cheered John considerably.
“So?” Weaver pressed with a sigh. “May we proceed?”
John looked at Hal and found Hal looking at him.
He lifted a brow in silent query. She lifted one back, the arch of hers quite perfect in shape and height.
It taunted him more than he would admit.
“Yes,” John heard himself say, the admission startling once it was out.
The corner of Hal’s lips quirked, and something itched at the corner of John’s, though they stayed resolutely where they were.
“We might as well,” Hal murmured, turning her attention to the others before them. “A special license, I presume?”
Priest produced the exact license from an inner pocket of his coat. “You presume correctly. And don’t worry, I’ll cover the cost myself.”
“We’re covering the cost,” Weaver corrected with a roll of his eyes. “The coffers of the government are at your disposal.”
Priest grinned, his eyes crinkling. “Even better. I shall send the bill for my services along, as well.” He stepped forward, sobering only slightly, and extending his hands out in welcome to the pair of them. “Shall we begin?”
“Hold! I insist you hold!” called a voice from beyond the room.
Hal whirled to face the door, eyes wide. John only looked with mild interest. It was barely a legal marriage and was happening in secret, how could anyone protest it?
A tall man in dark, dirty clothing appeared, his fair hair bared, though just as filthy as the rest of him. He paused at the entry, looking around and beaming quickly. “Am I too late to give the bride away?”
John’s brows shot up even as Hal ran to the man and threw her arms around him.
It would seem Trick had arrived.
“You’re just in time,” Weaver told the newcomer.
Hal whirled to face their superiors, her arm slipping around her brother’s waist. “You told him?”
Weaver and Tailor shrugged with eerie synchrony. “Call it