Shadows and Light

pulled him off his feet.
    “Get in,” Padrick snarled, shoving Liam through the cab’s open door.
    Liam sprawled, his upper body on the seat, his legs on the floor. Padrick stepped on him as he entered the cab and slammed the door shut.
    The cabby set his horse to a fast trot, quickly leaving behind the two men who had followed Liam.
    With an effort that made his arms shake, Liam maneuvered himself into a sitting position. “I’m not drunk,”
    he said.

    “No, you’re not drunk,” Padrick said with quiet anger. “You’re a fool. A courageous, passionate young fool. Where are you staying?”
    “The family town house.” He was sweating heavily, and being rattled around in a fast-moving vehicle was making his gorge rise.
    Padrick huffed. “If they were waiting for you at your club, they’ll be waiting at your town house.” He leaned his head out the window and shouted, “Cabby! Pull up at the end of the next block.”
    Liam watched as Padrick pulled out a folded piece of paper and the stub of a pencil from his jacket pocket.
    “Here,” Padrick said, pushing them into Liam’s hands as soon as the cab stopped moving. He left the cab, returning a few moments later with one of the cab’s lanterns. “How did you get to Durham?
    Horseback or carriage?”
    “Horseback,” Liam gasped. Why was it so hard to breathe? “But a groom drove an open cart to carry my trunk.”
    “Fine, then. Write a note to your butler. Tell him he’s got thirty minutes from the time he receives this note to have your valet pack your trunk and have the groom get your horse and the cart ready to travel.”
    “Travel?” He wasn’t traveling any farther than it took to get to the town house.
    “Tonight’s the Summer Moon, and the sky is clear. They’ll be plenty of light to travel by.”
    “I’m not—”
    “You’re getting out of Durham. Tonight. Before whoever decided you were an enemy gets a chance to finish the job.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    Padrick grabbed Liam’s arm. “The only reason those two men didn’t drag you into an alley and beat you to death was because their minds were clouded long enough that they weren’t sure you were who they thought you were. But once it wears off and they realize they’ve been tricked, they’ll come after you again. Now write the note, Liam.”
    Yes. Write the note.
    He laid the paper on the seat, gripped the pencil, and struggled to make his hand shape the words. By the time he folded the paper and wrote the town house’s address on the outside of it, he was shaking badly.
    Padrick took the paper and the lantern, went out to speak to the cabby. When he returned, the cab took off at the same brisk trot.
    “Where are you taking me?” Liam asked faintly.
    “To my room at the hotel,” Padrick replied. “It’s closer. And we should be safe there for long enough. I need to pack and settle my account, and you need— Well, I think I have something that will help you.”
    Liam didn’t argue, didn’t answer. Mother’s tits. The club he belonged to was supposed to be one of the best in the city. How could they serve beef that had gone bad? Was that why they’d poured that sauce over it? Because they’d known it had gone bad? Irresponsible of them. And he would tell whoever was in charge exactly that.
    He must have faded out for a bit, because the next thing he knew Padrick was hauling him out of the cab and into a modest hotel.
    Only two flights up to Padrick’s room, thank the Mother, and every step a misery.
    Padrick unlocked the door, pulled Liam through the small sitting room and into the bedroom. He pushed Liam to the floor near the window, then retrieved the chamber pot. He was back a few moments later with a small bottle in his hand.
    “Drink this,” Padrick ordered, holding out the bottle to Liam.
    Liam shook his head. He couldn’t drink anything.
    Making a vicious sound, Padrick grabbed Liam’s hair, yanked his head back, and poured the contents of the bottle down his throat.
    Liam choked, then gasped for breath when Padrick released him. “You bastard. I’ve already got food poisoning.”
    “What you’ve got, laddy-boy, is poisoned food,” Padrick said harshly. “A meal prepared especially for you.”
    Liam stared at Padrick. “Poisoned? Why?”
    “Because you stood in that council chamber and said everything the eastern barons and the Inquisitors who seem to be controlling those barons didn’t want anyone to say. You