The 7th of London by Beau Schemery Read Free Book Online Page A

everyone referred to it as the Church of Midnight, and Jack accepted worshippers of every faith as long as they were willing to act on his orders without question.
    Sev had worked a few jobs with Midnight’s men but had never been summoned to meet with the man himself. Few had. Midnight kept a very tight crew of trusted lieutenants and kept everyone else at arm’s length so nothing could be traced back to him. The criminal had his hands in every facet of illegal activities, and rumors even existed that the majority of criminals in England paid Midnight a small stipend to watch out for them.
    The steeple of Midnight’s home stabbed skyward, and Sev regarded it, though he remained blocks away from the building. Sev had heard Midnight turned his back on aristocratic society to build his criminal empire before he was more than a teenager. He’d also heard that Midnight often liberated children from the workhouses and factories, giving them jobs in his organization and watching out for them. After all the dishonesty he’d witnessed lately, Sev wondered if any of it was true. Adults held a very low position on his list of people he could trust and no matter what the man used to be, Jack Midnight was too old to be trustworthy.
    The polished ebony doors of the Church of Midnight reflected the soft glow of the gas lamps around them. Sev sat in the shadows cast by those lights, debating how best to approach. He waited in the alley across the street, looking at the majestic lines of Jack’s black chapel. Whatever the stories said, they agreed on one point—Jack and another man had wanted the building. In 1850 when that man died, Jack acquired the structure and completely redesigned the church with the help of the architect Ewan Christian and, rumor had it, the inventor Carrington. Sev wondered what the inside would be like as he decided to face this meeting head-on. He stepped across the street and ascended the steps to those polished black doors, acting braver than he felt.
    Two men stepped from the shadows on either side to impede Sev’s progress. Sev slowly removed his hands from his pockets to show that he meant no harm. “I’m here t’see Mr. Midnight,” Sev stated. “He sent fer me.”
    “Settle down, fellas,” a gravelly, young voice interrupted. “Gave the mick the message meself.”
    “If y’say so, Rat,” the big man on the left answered, though he didn’t lower his musket.
    “I say so,” Rat answered. “C’mon, kid.” Sev was almost amused at the dirty little urchin referring to him as a kid when Sev was obviously years the boy’s senior. Sev didn’t say anything, only followed Rat into Midnight’s home.
    Sev had no idea what to expect, but it wasn’t what awaited him within. He’d been in a church once, and this looked nothing like that had. He found himself in a small, well-appointed anteroom with lush couches and beautiful furnishings. Two delicately carved mahogany doors stood opposite the entrance, and Rat opened one. “Wait ’ere,” he told Sev and disappeared. Alone, Sev walked about, observing the shelves that lined the walls. Some of the baubles looked like they might have been boosted from the queen’s own collection, while others were intricate clockworks. He poked at something that looked like a bronze Egyptian beetle. At Sev’s touch, the device clicked to life, whirring. The beetle construct walked around its display base before its metallic wings started beating and the machine lifted into the air. Then it landed, folded its wings, and remained still. Sev whistled at the advanced clockwork. He saw what looked like a copper bat hanging upside down from a metal branch and walked toward it curiously.
    “Oy,” Rat barked as he reappeared. “Mr. Midnight’ll see ye now.” Sev glanced at the motionless clockwork before reluctantly following Rat through the doors to Midnight’s chambers.
    As the pair emerged into the next room, the space opened considerably. The ceiling was