Elizabeth Craig looked around the entrance of the British Museum. Impressive. She’d never been inside a museum, never wished to, truth be told. Australia may be part of the British Empire, but it had very little in common with Britain.

“These magickal artifacts disrupt my senses,” Duncan whispered as they skirted a group of women.

“I know, I can’t even sense you and I know your signature better than anything,” Elizabeth said, squeezing his arm.

She didn’t want to be here, but they’d journeyed too far now to turn back. No, she’d much rather be at home with Duncan. Shaking off her wishes, they could never go home, she allowed Duncan to lead her through the museum.

“Should we ask a curator?” she wondered. “How else are we to find Miss Bahari?”

“We could,” he conceded, reluctantly. “But I’m unwilling to engage others unless we have to.”

She smiled, Duncan was cautious to the point of paranoia, but she loved him for that. And she certainly didn’t blame him. It was difficult to know who to trust in these dangerous times.

“I still can’t sense anything,” she said as they wandered through the Roman room, filled with artifacts. Elizabeth suppressed a smile as she looked at some of the so-called Roman pieces. To her, they were clearly Druidic in origin.

“If we can’t sense any other magickers, then no Tracker will be able to sense us.” Duncan led her to a low stone bench by tall windows overlooking a beautifully tended garden. “Not here, at least. But once we leave the museum we’ll stand out.”

Elizabeth nodded. Looking around the exhibit room, she took a deep breath and prepared to say what she knew he thought. They needed to leave England.

“There aren’t enough magickers in London, maybe not in all of England,” she said, “to hide us. Should we leave?”

Duncan already nodded in agreement. “Perhaps. Perhaps we should forgo this Miss Bahari, head back to the docks and find passage off this infernal island.”

“We don’t know which ship captain will be amenable to us,” Elizabeth pointed out. Or how they’d pay for such passage but she didn’t voice that. “They’re offering bounties for magickers.”

Duncan squeezed her hand in agreement. “We can’t trust any of them won’t turn us in. Maybe go into the countryside?” He shrugged. “Still under Crown control, but it’s away from London where the bulk of Hunters and Trackers seem to have congregated. We could find a port that isn’t as active as those here.”

“We should at least give Miss Bahari a chance,” Elizabeth whispered as a pair of women wandered closer to them.

“It may be too late,” Duncan said and pulled her off the bench.

She tried to look over her shoulder, out the windows to whatever Duncan saw, but he ushered her away too quickly. Hunters-it had to be. There was no other reason for him to move so purposefully through the museum, a supposed safe haven.

“You-there you are.”

A beautiful woman, long dark hair pulled back into an intricate bun, pale beneath her dark skin, stood before them.

“I thought I sensed more magick in my museum than usual.”

“We’re looking for Miss Arabelle Bahari,” Duncan said. His voice was low, calm, but Elizabeth could hear a thread of urgency beneath it.

“I’m she,” Arabelle nodded. “Who-”

“Lord Preston sent us,” Elizabeth said. She could feel the insistence coming off Duncan.

Arabelle seemed to marginally relax even as she nodded and ushered them deeper into the museum.

“Hunters are doing a sweep,” she whispered. “You can’t stay here.”

Their footsteps were the only ones echoing in the corridor, but Elizabeth could feel the shift in magick. Arabelle was correct: she’d grown used to the level of magick in the museum, and with the addition of gypsies, no matter how weak their magick, it did change everything.

No wonder Arabelle knew they’d arrived in her museum.

“Do they do this often?” Duncan asked, and Elizabeth felt his magicks gather around him.

“Not too often,” Arabelle said as she turned a corner, then another, stopping before a set of double doors that led outside.

“Will you be safe?” Elizabeth wanted to know before they left. She hated to think they put her in danger when they only sought safe haven.

“I’ll be fine.” Arabelle smiled and squeezed her arm. “I keep those artifacts in the Roman section, even if they’re clearly not, to shield me.”

Duncan nodded, already holding open the door for her.

“Here, this is the only weapon I could find on short notice,” Arabelle said, handing them a revolver. “Go to the East End, look for Daniel’s Shoppe and ask for Mr. Beythorn. He’ll know what to do and will help hide you. Be careful, it’s a bad neighborhood.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, even as Duncan pulled her outside. Her last look was of Arabelle’s face-anxious and regretful-as the doors slammed closed.

Elizabeth’s hand gripped his, doubling their power. It was a risk, but if they were to survive the race to the East End-and Duncan knew where to go-they had to be prepared. Elizabeth risked a glance over her shoulder, but no one followed them. That didn’t stop Duncan as they raced around the museum.

Speeding through the narrow backstreets, Elizabeth kept a tight grip on Duncan’s hand. She didn’t want to lose him in the crowds. There was a commotion behind them, but she dared not risk turning around. Whether the noise was their Tracker pursuers or not, it spurred Duncan faster.

The temperature plummeted the further they went into the city, the close buildings of London caused the wind to blow toward them. There was no way they could blend in, the Trackers most likely had their magickal signature, yet they couldn’t stop running, either.

Abruptly turning into a pub, they raced through the boisterous crowd and out the back. The alley was a dead end, so Duncan led her out into another street. She was completely turned around now, and hoped Duncan knew where they headed. They entered another shop, a hat store. Ignoring the surprised looks of several matrons and the saleswoman, they raced out into another alley.

Left, another left, right, and completely unsure they were even still in London proper, Duncan eventually stopped next to an abandoned warehouse.

“Where are we?” she gasped, holding her side as she fought for breath.

“I don’t know. But if anyone followed us, they don’t any longer,” Duncan said, peering around the side of the building. He turned to her and kissed her softly. She leaned into that kiss and deepened it, needing the contact. “Stay here, I’m going to ask someone.”

Elizabeth started to protest, but he already left her. She debated following him, but stayed where she was. Her heartbeat slowed, and she took noticed of her surroundings for the first time. No one seemed to be in the area, and when Duncan reappeared moments later, he looked more relaxed than she’d seen him since they disembarked Preston’s steamship.

“It’s not far,” he said, already leading her back the way they came. He was right, and soon enough they were in an even worse part of town than the docks.

Daniel’s Shoppe

She looked at the sign as it swung silently in the wind. Elizabeth didn’t know if it was the area or the store itself, or even the fact that they’d spent the morning running for their lives, but she shivered. Duncan pulled her closer as they entered the shop.

Death greeted them. The stench of it hovered over the close room, filled with dozens of things for sale. A pawnbroker’s shop.

“I don’t think she’d have led us to a trap,” Elizabeth insisted when Duncan immediately started searching the area. She knew what he thought without him saying so. “I don’t think Miss Bahari knew this happened.”

“If she didn’t,” he said, returning to her side, “then this is worse than anything we’ve experienced. This is worse than Australia’s Hunters.”

“What are we going to do now?” she asked.

Duncan looked at her and rounded the counter. “I’m sorry,” she heard him whisper to the dead man. To Daniel Beythorn, she supposed. “But I have to protect Elizabeth.”

She smiled at that, despite the desperation of their situation, but instantly wiped it from her face when he stood and returned to her side.

“He didn’t have much money on him,” Duncan admitted, “but I took it.”

He didn’t sound repentant, but Elizabeth knew what it meant to him to have to steal, especially from a dead man, a fellow magicker. She took his hand and rested her head on his chest. He shifted uncomfortably beneath her, but she didn’t show her amusement. Instead, she allowed him to lead her out of the shop and through the twisting streets of London, back to the docks.

Duncan peeked into the warehouse, but Elizabeth heard nothing. They’d stopped at a street vendor for food, and she felt restored, but physically exhausted. Running through London all day hadn’t helped. He led her into the seemingly-abandoned establishment. Leading her into the office, he sat her on a sturdy desk—two chairs lay broken on their side.

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

Elizabeth grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close. His lips were cold under hers, and she knew he could taste her fear. Framing her face with his icy hands, Duncan held her close.

“Don’t be long,” she whispered.

He nodded, kissed her once more, and left.

Duncan was longer than she hoped, but she could still sense his magick in the cavernous space. Lighting a ball of magickal fire, she searched the office for anything to help them. She hunched over a pile of leftover junk scattered in a corner, hoping-

“Elizabeth.”

She jumped and spun, magick thick around her as she tried to suffocate the room. An automatic defense to protect herself.

“Elizabeth!” Duncan shouted, exasperation clear in his voice even as he snuffed out his magickal light and moved to shield himself, but she already rescinded her magicks.

“Sorry,” she said. The smile she offered was thin, but real. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Nodding, he shot her a disbelieving look before walking to her. He reignited his light and peered down. She’d been searching through a pile of papers, mostly old ledgers which should have been destroyed when the warehouse was abandoned, an empty lantern, and musty ropes.

“Nothing to help us,” she said, stepping away and snuffing her own light.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, leading her back to the desk. “We’ll be fine.”

She raised her eyebrow in skepticism and he smiled.

“We will be,” he promised. Kissing her temple he pulled her close. Comfort for the both of them. “We’ll figure this out, we have so far. All we have to do is hide for a bit. Wait for a new scandal to distract them-for a new victim.”

They both knew he lied, but they both accepted it because they had to. What else was there? She looked up at him, his blue eyes dark in the uncertain light of his magick. But she could see well enough that he spoke to reassure her, and she appreciated that.

Duncan kissed her then, slow and probing, allowing the light to snuff out. She knew he didn’t need to see to know her body-they spent a year exploring each other. Elizabeth’s fingers pushed his coat off his shoulders, dropping it to the floor. She deftly unbuttoned his shirt even as he lifted her and sat her on the desk. She didn’t wear a bustle which made it easier to sit like this and felt him spread her cloak along the top of the desk.

His fingers dipped beneath her bodice, long cold digits teasing her nipples, his teeth closing over them. Shots of pleasure raced along her skin, her body clenching in need of him. She was wet, aching for his cock deep within her.

Duncan hiked her skirts to her hips and thrust into her, and Elizabeth moaned at the feel of his cock filling her. Her legs locked around his waist, and still they weren’t close enough.

Even in the darkness, she knew what he looked like. Eyes boring into hers, strong body tight as he thrust deeper and harder into her body. Her body strained against his, meeting him thrust for thrust despite their position. Duncan leaned down to kiss her again, and she moaned his name.

One calloused hand trailed down her thigh, seeking her nub. Long skilled fingers found and manipulated her until she came, clamping down on his cock.

“Duncan,” she panted, arching into him.

He came then, emptying himself in her welcoming body. She didn’t want him to leave, wanted him to stay buried within her forever. Home.