Neither Jewkes nor Vern followed them out of the station. Booker continued on at a brisk pace, Trinket trotting along beside him. "Their handiwork is becoming more careful," he said.
"Yes, it is."
"You noticed the jagged wounds?"
"I did."
"They seemed to match the Wolf's bite."
"They did, though they were still a bit too clean. And there were slight indentations on his wrists."
"Delmar wasn't a fighter. It wouldn't have taken much to restrain him."
"Perhaps that's why they chose him as their victim."
"And his former connection to the Mice would surely lead the city to the conclusion that they were the perpetrators."
She gritted her teeth. How many more people would have to die to make this lie believable? Would the Mice just keep killing until they got their way?
"We really need to catch the Wolf," she sighed.
Booker nodded. "Tonight. We'll track it down tonight, and that will bring us one step closer."
~
Tonight would not happen. When evening had fallen, Trinket peered out the parlour window to find the view obscured by a thick cloud of snowflakes.
"Booker," she said, calling him over.
He stood behind her and cursed.
"There's no way we can go out tonight," she said, letting the curtain fall back in place.
He clenched his jaw. "But perhaps—"
"Even if we were able to navigate through the storm, it would be impossible to track the Wolf. Any prints would be covered by snow, and we'd most certainly lose our way."
Though he didn't argue, the bitter twist of his lips made it clear he was not pleased with this turn of events.
"Maybe if the storm ends during the night, we can try our luck then," she suggested, hoping to keep him from flying into any sort of tantrum.
"Right," he said, still staring out the window as though he thought he could make the snow stop by sheer force of will.
"Would you like me to make you some tea?"
Finally pulling his gaze from the storm, he briefly met her eyes before looking away and shaking his head. "No, thank you. I think I'll catch up on some work in the laboratory."
Without another look her way, he slipped into the hallway and disappeared.
She heaved a sigh. "I'll let you know if there's any change in the weather," she called after him.
The only response was the click of the laboratory door closing shut.
Such a child.
Not wanting to waste a potential night in, Trinket gathered up her pile of articles in need of mending and settled onto the settee. However, between the warmth of the flames cheerfully blazing in the fireplace and the gentle sound of the snow pelting the roof and windows, she found it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. Her needle bobbed slightly as her vision blurred, and before she could put forth any effort to stay awake, her eyelids fell shut.
~
Wake up, wake up, wake up.
Hurry!
Now!
Now!
Trinket sat up with a gasp. Her head spun at the sudden movement, and she had to grip the settee to keep from toppling over.
Ridiculous.
So pathetic.
Running her fingers through her hair, she released a weary sigh and sank back into the cushioned seat.
The soft clink of porcelain against porcelain made her jump. She turned to find Booker sitting silently beside her, sipping at some tea as he stared blankly into the fire.
"You scared me," she said, placing a hand against her chest and letting out a relieved breath. "What time is it?"
His eyes still fixed on the flames, he replied, "Morning, though you'd hardly know it looking outside."
She furrowed her brow, but when he refused to elaborate, she got to her feet and went to the window. Lifting the curtain up, she was met by a scene of pure white. Everything from the frozen dirt road to the dilapidated buildings had been completely blanketed in snow. The thick flakes continued to fall from a dark sky filled with grey clouds that showed no sign of dissipating.
Letting go of the curtain, she made her way back to the settee. "You should have woken me up if you needed tea," she said, sitting beside him.
"I am fully capable of boiling water," he said.
His tone was sharp and humorless. She recalled his pouting the night before and realized this was merely an extension of his childish sulking.
"Booker, if we go out in this storm, we'll get lost or freeze," she said calmly.
"Tinkerfall is not that large of a city, so I doubt we'd get lost."
"We could become disoriented and wander in circles for hours and then freeze to death."
"You're very fixated on freezing."
"I don't much enjoy it. I came close enough to freezing once already, and I'd rather not do it again."
He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm desperate to find this creature, Trinket."
She rested her head against the settee. "I know you are."
"You don't understand how important it is to me."
"I'm willing to help you, Booker. Just wait until it stops snowing. Please."
His head lolled to the side as he met her eyes with that sad, disappointed gaze of his. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at how pathetic he looked, but her amusement must have been obvious, as his own mouth twitched ever so slightly.
Leaning in towards him, she stuck out her lower lip, hoping to coax something like a smile out of him. "I'll go through more newspapers with you if you'd like."
"The papers are useless."
"I can make you crumpets."
"I'm not hungry."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Then why don't you suggest what I can do to keep your mind off of the weather?"
He stared at her for a moment before turning to face the ceiling again. "When I was sent to the orphanage, I made a friend."
Her heart skipped a beat. The orphanage? From when he was a child? She hadn't been expecting him to suddenly open up about his past.
"I never had any friends growing up," he continued. He turned to grin at her. "Not that much has changed."
She managed a strained smile before he returned his attention to the ceiling.
"He didn't, either. But he and I had an instant connection. Honestly, he was the only good thing about that place. We had a shared passion for knowledge and a tendency toward genius."
"Humble as always," she said softly.
A smile flickered across his face. "We studied every book on science we could get our hands on and started experimenting. His father had been a scientist, and he seemed to share the man's obsession with playing God."
Playing God? She swallowed, her thoughts straying to the otherworldly wolf wandering the city streets.
Booker hesitated, something like pain flashing through his eyes. "But our experiments eventually got out of hand, and the matron found us out. Needless to say, the nature of our projects didn't sit well with her. Luckily for him, a visiting doctor recognized his talent behind the gruesomeness of our acts. He took my friend away to train him to become a doctor like himself. It was the last I ever saw of him."
There was a long silence filled only by the falling snow and crackling fire.
"And he's the one you're convinced created the Wolf," she said at last.
"Yes."
"And you think if you capture it, you'll discover how to find him."
"I know he sent this creature out to tell me he's here. It's his way of announcing his presence."
"If you two were such good friends, why wouldn't he just come to you?"
His lips lifted in a faint smile. "That's not how he does things. That's not how we do things. Our reunion could never be so mundane and typical."
She gave a soft laugh. "Of course not. What was I thinking?"
"I can't fail this test, Trinket. I have to prove to him that I've earned his respect. I have to show him how much I've grown as a scientist since last he saw me. I have to show him that I'm a worthy rival."
"Rival? I thought you two were friends?"
"Nothing wrong with a little friendly competition." He turned to face her. "I have to find this wolf, Trinket. I have to find it before anyone else does. Because if I don't, he may disappear, perhaps forever this time. I cannot let that happen. I cannot lose him again."
The desperation in his eyes tugged at her emotions. His devotion, his admiration, his slight obsession with this person, this friend and rival. She knew how it felt to care about someone that deeply. How you'd do anything for them. And she knew what it was like to lose them. Especially due to your own failures and shortcomings.
All your fault.
It's all your fault.
He's gone because of you.
Swallowing down the emotions clawing at her chest, she pasted on a smile and took Booker's hands in her own. "We will find the Wolf. I promise that you will have my full cooperation and assistance. Just, please, wait until the snow stops."
His mouth quirked into a crooked smile. "Very well. But only under one condition."
"Yes?"
"Crumpets?"
Her smile became less strained, and she gave his knee a friendly pat. "I'll go toast them up now."