"That is my cap you're wearing, isn't it?" Harper asked.
"You left it after that first night you spent with me." Belimai pushed the brim up a little so that it didn't cover so much of his face. "I thought it would be best if they didn't find any of your things in my rooms."
"Smart." Harper stepped back from Belimai, studying his slim figure. The rain had soaked Belimai's navy coat to black. Between that and the cap, he could have been mistaken for an Inquisitor. No one catching sight of his black fingernails or yellow eyes would be fooled, but there were ways of hiding both.
"Should I ask what you're planning?" Belimai inquired.
"That would ruin the surprise," Harper replied. "Hold this, will you?"
Harper pulled off his coat and handed it to Belimai. The wind sliced through Harper's wet clothes and sent shivers rushing over his skin. Quickly he unbuttoned his uniform jacket and peeled it off. He handed it to Belimai.
"Is this a plan that involves us warming each other with our naked bodies?" Belimai gave Harper a lewd smile.
"Maybe later." Harper unclipped his stiff priest's collar and then fitted it around Belimai's throat.
Belimai arched a black brow at him.
"Now, put on my uniform jacket," Harper said.
"You have to be joking," Belimai said.
"I'm not," Harper replied.
Belimai shrugged and put on Harper's jacket. It wasn't a perfect fit, but the dark coat disguised the discrepancies. Belimai's thin frame became a solid black form from which the two silver Inquisitor's emblems and the white priest's collar stood out sharply.
"You almost look good enough to salute." Harper took his heavy green coat back from Belimai and put it on quickly.
"What about these?" Belimai held up his hands. His black nails caught the light of a distant gas lamp like obsidian.
"Gloves." Harper began peeling his off. "They worked for my sister and stepfather for years; there's no reason they shouldn't work for you."
"Just a minute." Belimai pulled a jack knife out of his boot and flipped the blade open. Instinctively, Harper flinched. It had nothing to do with Belimai; only the speed of his movement and the razor edge of the knife blade.
Belimai sliced through the curve of his thumbnail and then continued cutting the rest of his nails down to the tips of his fingers. The knife only slipped once when a tremor passed through Belimai's hand. The blade sank down into the side of his finger and bright red blood welled up.
"Fuck," Belimai snarled.
"Is it bad?" Harper caught Belimai's hand to inspect the cut.
"No," Belimai replied. "I'm just starting to get the shakes."
"You should've had me do it." Harper squeezed the cut, trying to stop the bleeding. Belimai hissed at him.
"What are you doing?"
"Stopping the bleeding. You apply pressure," Harper said.
"What kind of cretin are you? Haven't you ever heard of kissing it and making it better?"
"You have to be joking," Harper replied.
"No, it works. You put it in your mouth and suck on it."
"I thought only children did that." Harper started to laugh, then noticed Belimai's narrowed eyes. "All right then, I'll do it if you'd like."
He pressed his lips against Belimai's finger and then gently kissed the small cut. A little of Belimai's blood slipped between his lips.
It was hot and tasted sharp, as if it had been mixed with wine. As he swallowed, Harper felt a burning trail slide down his throat. Heat flooded his stomach and sank deep into his groin. It washed outward through the muscles of his arms and legs.
Harper drew in a breath of the cold air. The scents offish and cats, of machine grease and his own pungent sweat, rolled through his lungs. He felt currents of wind twist and flow over him as if they were ribbons that he could catch in his hands.
He stepped back from Belimai, but already the sensation was fading. A moment later all that remained was a slight warmth in the pit of his stomach.
"Is something wrong?" Belimai asked.
"No." Harper should have known better than to taste Belimai's blood.
"Just put these on." Harper handed Belimai his gloves.
"You're sure—"
"Your eyes are still too easy to see." Harper pulled the cap lower over Belimai's face. The shadow of the brim fell well below Belimai's eyes. "There. Perfect."
"So, now what?" Belimai asked.
"We walk down to the Green-Hill carriage house and take the last carriage out to St. Bennet's."
"Are you insane?" Belimai stared at him. "If there's been a murder, the Inquisition will have men staking out every carriage house, dock, and city gate."
"They will be looking for Prodigals, not other Inquisitors. When they ask your name, you tell them William J. Harper—"
"I'm going to claim to be you? That will never work."
"It will work just fine. Trust me."
"What if they ask me what the 'J' stands for?" Belimai asked.
"They aren't going to ask—"
"I think I ought to know," Belimai snapped. "If I'm claiming to be William J. Harper, then I want to know what the 'J' stands for."
"Jubal," Harper said at last.
"Jubal?" Belimai cocked his head slightly. "What kind of name is that?"
"Jubal, son of Lamech and Adah. 'Father of all such as handle the harp and organ.' Genesis 4:21."
"So, they knew when you were born that you'd be an organ handler?" Belimai smirked.
"And aren't you glad they were right?" Harper replied. He was relieved to see Belimai smile slightly in response.
"Don't you think that they'll know I'm not you?" Belimai asked.
"They won't know if we go to Archer's Green. I've never been there, and none of their courthouses overlap with ours in Brighton. Someone might recognize my name, but that's all," Harper said. "We'll wait until the carriage has pulled up, then we'll walk in and give our names and destinations. We'll pay and get in the carriage, and that will be that. There won't be time for any small talk with the other Inquisitors. All right?"
Belimai took in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Harper noticed the slight tremors that passed through Belimai's body. For the first time in their acquaintance, Harper wished that he had a few grams of ophorium to offer Belimai, just to still his shaking. Belimai shoved his trembling hands into his coat pockets.
"I suppose that I'll just pretend that all this shaking is from the cold. You think they'll believe that at the carriage house?"
"No one will even ask," Harper replied.
"What if they do? What if they take one look at me and know I'm not you?"
"Then we'll just run like hell." Harper gripped Belimai's shoulder and stepped back out into the rain with him. "Come on. Everything will be fine."
"Oh, yes. How could we fail with such a foolproof plan? You're really wasting your talents in the Inquisition, you know. You ought to work for the war department." Despite his sarcasm, Belimai seemed to relax.
Harper felt an unwarranted ease. Perhaps he was simply too tired to be afraid anymore. He was glad to be walking through the passing seconds, not chasing them in desperation. This once, he thought, he might have arrived in time.
They walked side by side as the rain poured down over them and the gas lamps flickered in the darkness.