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It started with a slap.
Lucy deserved it, in retrospect. She’d been pissed off at Holly, pissed off at Lockwood, pissed off at anyone and everyone and—most of all—herself. She’d been too reckless with her Talents lately, too confident when she needed to be cautious. Skull wasn’t of much help, egging her on, practically daring her to invite all sorts of Visitors into her mind. Lucy was a powder keg ready to blow.
And Kat Godwin just happened to be that spark.
It didn’t help that the girl always looked at Lucy like she stank, a sneer permanently etched into her face. All Fittes agents looked down on independents like Lockwood & Co., but Kat took it to a new level. Even Kipps had cooled his animosity in recent months, especially after the death of Ned Shaw, but the same couldn’t be said for Kat. If anything, Ned’s passing made her meaner.
…which was why Lucy probably shouldn’t have brought him up.
She’d been aiming below the belt, it was true, but Kat had made snide comments about the state of Lucy’s clothes (singed) and hair (a disaster) and—the worst offense of all—how Lucy was here at the furnaces all alone while Lockwood and George and Holly were off enjoying each other’s company without her. It was petty. Skull insulted her worse on a daily basis. But Lucy was tired and angry and so she’d uttered the words she’d come to regret:
“At least I haven’t let my boyfriend die on the job. Poor, poor Ned.”
The slap was immediate, the clean sound of it reverberating off the tall walls of the furnaces courtyard. Pain shot through Lucy like an electric shock and she drew back, cheek pulsing hotly where Kat had struck.
“Keep his name out of your nasty mouth, Carlyle,” Kat hissed. She then turned on her heels and stalked away, disappearing into the dark of the night. Lucy stood here, unable to move, watching her retreat. She’d crossed a line, that was for certain. Tomorrow, after she’d slept and showered and had a hot breakfast, she would probably even feel remorse for saying such a thing.
But at the moment, she couldn’t focus on that, because for the first time in weeks her mind felt calm and clear.
It was like Kat had smacked all the sense back into her, recalibrating the machine of her mind. When Lucy focused on the pain, suddenly the rest of her worries seemed small, insignificant. Taking a deep breath of the cold night air, Lucy was reminded that despite everything, she was still alive, and she could handle Holly, handle Lockwood, handle the worsening Problem, handle her own Talents.
It was a clarity that lasted until morning, and Lucy desperately wished for more.
A week passed before Lucy ran into Kat again.
This time, it was outside DEPRAC. Lucy had volunteered to deliver some paperwork to the front desk, desperate to get out of the house that Holly was determined to sterilize top-to-bottom, starting with Lucy’s room. Now she was having the world’s most awkward stare down, blocking foot traffic in and out of the building. Kat spoke first.
“I’m sorry for hitting you,” she said in a tone that indicated that she wasn’t actually sorry. “Kipps said it was an inappropriate reaction, even if you deserved it.”
Lucy desperately hoped Kipps hadn’t actually seen her get slapped. It wasn’t the most dignified moment of her life. She cleared her throat and said, “I did deserve it. I’m sorry for what I said. Ned’s death wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m aware,” Kat said. “Now we can go back to not speaking.”
“You’re not going to apologize for calling me, what was it?” Lucy pretended to think. “A ‘frumpy chimney sweep with a victim complex’?”
Kat shrugged. “It was just an observation.”
“A bit mean,” Lucy argued. “We could ask Kipps his opinion on the matter?”
Kat rolled her eyes. “Just hit me.”
“What?” Lucy frowned. Certainly she couldn’t have heard Kat correctly.
“Hit me,” Kat repeated. “Then we’ll be even and you’ll go away.”
“Seriously?” Lucy glanced around. There weren’t many people around, mostly DEPRAC employees heading out for a late lunch, and no one was watching the two girls.
“Just do it,” Kat said, visibly annoyed. “I haven’t got all day. We Fittes agents actually have work to do, unlike y-”
Lucy wound back her arm and let it arc towards Kat’s face, colliding with her cheek with a satisfying smack. Her palm stung like crazy, adrenaline rushing through her veins as she watched Kat’s shock turn to something darker. The other girl glared at her.
“A little warning next time,” she said. Lucy just shrugged.
“So we’re even?” She asked with a grin.
“Sure,” Kat said. She paused, fixing Lucy with an appreciative look, then said, “You have a good arm. Do you box?”
This surprised Lucy and she shook her head. “No, we really only do rapier training at Lockwood & Co.”
Kat scoffed. “That explains quite a bit,” she said. “You should join me at the gym sometime for a spar.”
“Like, hand-to-hand?” Lucy had never considered any sort of manual combat training before. Hands did nothing against ghosts, and only increased the risk of ghost touch. But she’d made enough human enemies since coming to London that it was not, perhaps, the worst idea. “Er, sure. I’d like that.”
Face unreadable, Kat pulled out a scrap of paper and pen from her bag and began scribbling down an address. When done, she passed it to Lucy. “Tomorrow, 10 am?”
That was usually when Lucy was just waking up, but she couldn’t admit that to a posh Fittes agent. Kat probably slept three hours a night and drank smoothies with green bits in them and ironed all her uniforms—the complete antithesis to how Lucy lived her life.
“Sure,” she said. “See you then.”
Kat gave her a sharp nod and strode away, not bothering with any sort of goodbye. Lucy pocketed the address and started the journey back to Portland Row, a nervous excitement bubbling up in her chest all the way home.
Sparring with Kat was fun, but Lucy found it lacking at times. Kat’s coach, a burly older woman named Mel, wouldn’t let them get away with any illegal hits, which Lucy felt was counterintuitive for their purposes. Attackers wouldn’t follow any rules, so why should they? Still, it was a different sort of exercise than she was used to, working muscles she didn't even know she had, and Kat was a great partner. Unlike George, who often thought of excuses to get out of sparring with Lucy, and Lockwood, who never fought at his full potential, afraid of hurting her, Kat did not care for Lucy’s safety, nor did she underestimate her. Kat fought like a woman possessed, sneaking in as many real hits as she could before Mel told her off.
They fought for two hours, interrupted only by the coach to correct their forms or penalize them for any bad hit. Lucy felt deliciously sore by the end, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. She slumped onto the bench in the dressing room afterwords, sitting next to Kat as she wiped sweat from her neck.
“That was nice,” Lucy said, taking a swig from her water bottle. It wasn’t a lie; Lucy had a good time, even if it had been more about rules and form than actual brawling. She felt stronger and more capable already after just one day.
“Nice.” Kat narrowed her eyes. “Just nice ?”
Lucy swallowed a large gulp of water. “Er…yes?”
“But it wasn’t enough.” Kat’s gaze was as sharp and as cold as a shard of ice.
Lucy paused, then answered truthfully. “No. It wasn’t.”
Kat nodded and glanced away, sipping at her own water. Lucy felt nervous, unsure what Kat would do next.
Then, she spoke. “We should spar again. Without Mel.”
Lucy found herself nodding. “Yeah,” she said. “That would be good.”
“We can’t use the gym, though,” Kat continued, glancing sideways at Lucy. “Too many…sensitive souls around.”
Lucy considered this. “Can’t use the basement at Portland Row,” she said. “Holly would say it’s unladylike.”
Kat snorted. She hadn’t actually interacted with Holly as far as Lucy knew, but she seemed as irritated by the older girl as Lucy was. Maybe Holly just had that effect on girls.
“Oh!” Speaking of girls that Lucy wasn’t the most fond of- “I know just the spot.”
She gave Kat a grin and the girl gave her a raised eyebrow in return—not quite a smile, but close enough for Lucy.
“Alright, Carlyle,” Kat said. “Then let’s see this perfect place of yours.”
“An abandoned warehouse?”
Kat was not impressed, but Lucy didn’t need her to be impressed.
“No one comes here, except for Flo, and Flo won’t care what we’re doing,” Lucy explained. She only knew about it because of Lockwood, and even then only because they’d once gotten rained out of a job nearby and had taken shelter under its leaky roof. She didn’t dwell on the memory of cuddling close to Lockwood as they waited for the storm to pass—to share body heat, of course. No other reason. “It’s safe enough and neither Kipps nor Lockwood will be around to get angry.”
Kat didn’t look convinced, but followed Lucy inside nevertheless. “You’re not planning on murdering me, are you?” She asked, tossing her bag to the muddy floor. The warehouse was right on the river, damp and dirty and cold. Lucy shivered but still shucked off her jacket. She’d warm up in a minute, once they got moving. “This looks like a serial killer’s den.”
“What, you think you couldn’t take me if I was a murderer?” Lucy smirked.
“Please.” Kat moved to the middle of the room, testing the strength of the floorboards. Light filtered through dirty, broken windows from the upper stories, shining down in fractured beams. “This seems like a good spot.”
Lucy moved to stand in front of her, raising her hands. “Ready when you are, Godwin.”
Kat grinned and went in for the kill.
Despite the aching of her split lip and bruised ribs, Lucy was in a good mood as she sat down to supper. It was a simple chicken and rice dish with plenty of veg in it, but Holly had set out a bowl of carrot sticks out as well, munching away like a tall, willowy rabbit. The mental image almost made Lucy laugh as she helped herself to the chicken.
“What happened to your face, Luce?” Lockwood asked, finally putting down his newspaper. “You look awful.”
Earlier that day, Lucy might have taken offense to that. Instead, she just swallowed her food and lied. “Fell down some steps today when I was out.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Holly cooed, starting to stand up from her seat. “Let me get you some ice.”
“It’s alright,” Lucy said. “The swelling’s going down.” Holly sat down again, concern etched across her face. Lucy felt a pang of appreciation towards her, though it didn’t last long.
George narrowed his eyes. “What steps?” He asked.
Lucy scrambled, shoving more food into her mouth to buy time. “Y’know the footbridge over by the Archives? Slipped down those.”
“Why were you in Richmond?” George pressed. Lucy had counted on Lockwood’s obliviousness and George’s indifference when she’d arranged her fight with Kat. But for whatever reason, George actually seemed to care about her piss-poor alibi.
“Jeez, George, what is this, the Inquisition?” Lucy deflected. “I was…shopping.”
“For what?”
“Alright, George, that’s enough,” Lockwood cut in. “Let’s discuss tomorrow’s job. What have you found out about our mysterious Lurker?”
George gave Lucy a look that said “this isn’t over yet” before sighing and turning to Lockwood. “Quite a bit, actually. Did you know there used to be a Roman fort where our client’s house is now?”
He launched into an explanation of his findings, from long-dead Romans to recently-deceased grandmothers. Lucy let her mind drift, finishing off her chicken with satisfaction. Across the table, she noticed Lockwood watching her with furrowed brow.
Well, he could keep watching. Lucy was going to remain tight-lipped about her new pastime as long as she could. No one else needed to know.
That remained true only for a few more sessions. A few weeks passed and Lucy arrived to the warehouse at their usual time to find Kat already there—and she wasn’t alone.
“Carlyle,” she greeted as Lucy entered. “You know Leora Jones, yeah?”
Lucy had never actually spoken to Leora, but she knew of her. Best Listener at Grimble, though that bar was admittedly low. “Lucy,” she introduced, holding out a hand.
Leora shook it, nerves written all over her face. “You can call me Lee,” she said. “Kat and I apprenticed together, back in the day.”
“Ah.” Lucy cast a questioning look at Kat. “So you’re here to…?”
“Fight, yeah.” Lee grimaced. “I have some…frustrations I’d like to punch out, y’know?”
“Well, that’s what we do here,” Lucy agreed. “You and Kat want to have a go first, then?”
Lee and Kat moved into place in the middle of the room. Kat raised her fists coolly, waiting for Lee to strike first. Lee, bouncing on the balls of her feet, did not disappoint.
It was interesting, observing the two girls spar. Kat moved with precision, her blows sharp and calculated. Lee, on the other hand, was a large girl, a foot taller than Lucy and built like a brickhouse. What she lacked in speed she made up for in brute strength, knocking the wind out of Kat more than once.
“Don’t give me that look,” Lee snapped as Kat got in a good blow.
“What look?” Kat asked with her trademark sneer.
Lee went in for another hit but missed, Kat side-stepping with ease. “That smug look, like you’re better than me.” She tried again and missed again. “Just because your Listening’s still intact-”
“Don’t blame me for Grimble’s decision to demote you,” Kat retorted, going low for a punch to the gut. Lee blocked her and forced her to stumble backwards. “All agents lose their Talents. Get over it.”
Lucy actually gasped when Lee’s fist met Kat’s jaw, sending her to the ground. Lee stood over her, chest heavy, face red. The anger seemed to seep from her, shoulders slumping, and after a moment Lee moved to help Kat to her feet. Kat looked dazed but amused.
“You’re right,” Lee said with a huff. “I do feel better.” Then she pulled Kat into a headlock, ignoring the undignified squawks of the Fittes agent.
Lucy found herself laughing, hard. It had been weeks since she’d laughed and now she couldn’t stop, the giggles spilling out of her like from a broken faucet. “Alright, alright,” she gasped, drawing the attention of the other girls. “My turn with Lee.”
“Good luck,” Kat said, extricating herself from Lee’s arms. “You’re going to need it, Carlyle.”
Lucy hopped to her feet with a grin. She never backed down from a challenge.
By the darkest depths of the Black Winter, Lucy was almost certain George knew what she was up to.
For starters, Flo knew, and if Flo knew, George likely knew. Flo had walked in on their sparring ages back, and while she did not join in she started showing up with great frequency. Mostly she liked to heckle the fighters while chewing on licorice or cleaning her muck prong.
George had also stopped questioning what Lucy did on her off time, though he did often make comments about her myriad cuts and bruises.
“Fall down more steps this time, Luce?” He liked to ask.
Lucy had stopped giving real answers and had started replying with a simple, “Bite me.”
Lockwood and Holly both seemed to still be in the dark, and Lucy wanted to keep it that way. George didn’t have much room to judge Lucy’s hobbies, as his own often included bathing with Sources, but Lockwood wouldn’t understand and Holly would be downright scandalized. She would probably tattle on them to Barnes or Kipps or some other irritating authority figure and then Lucy and Kat would be out on the streets, fighting each other for the worst freelance jobs, if they weren’t blacklisted from the industry entirely. Underground fight clubs were probably something DEPRAC and Fittes would not approve of.
In the time since they’d started, Lucy and Kat had drawn quite a crowd of agents who needed an outlet for their fears and frustrations, their sadness and anger. Lee had brought her friend Melita Cavendish from Rotwell, who had in turn invited Jordan Green from Dollop & Tweed and Eyitemi Adesina from Mellingcamp. From there it quickly grew, bringing in kids from all over London, from Bunchurch to Tamworth and even a few Nightwatchers. Flo started a betting pool and someone brought in an old chalkboard to keep scores. The warehouse was cleaned up better than before, now decorated with scavenged chairs and sofas. Melita had brought in a beat-up old electric kettle and would pass out tea bags and instant coffee to anyone who needed a pick-me-up.
It was almost a second home to Lucy at that point, though she’d never say so out loud. She suspected the others felt the same.
Things at her other home weren’t going so well. She and Holly were fighting again—well, she was fighting with Holly and Holly was being stupid and mature and so bloody irritating . Lockwood had recently raked Lucy over the coals for endangering everyone on a job by trying to speak to a Visitor, and now he was being cool towards her. Lucy tried not to let it hurt, but this club of hers was her only outlet and there were only so many rounds of sparring she could go before she got seriously injured.
Things changed the night Holly Munro entered the warehouse.
At first, Lucy thought she was hallucinating. Perhaps she’d been hit in the head too many times, or someone had laced her tea, because there was no way in hell that pretty, prim, perfect Holly was here .
She rubbed her eyes and Holly didn’t disappear, so Lucy had to acknowledge that she was probably real. Holly wore loose trousers and a sensible blouse, far different than her work attire. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her face showed clear apprehension. Lucy recognized one of her companions as Robert DeCosta, a Rotwell agent who’d been attending lately, but the others were unknown to her. Perhaps these were Holly’s former coworkers.
When their eyes met, Holly’s expression was almost comical. Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, eyes going wide and jaw dropping open. Lucy gave her an awkward wave.
Saying something to her friends, Holly quickly made her way across the room, sidestepping a few groups of people sparring. She wrung her hands together as she came to stand in front of Lucy and her nervousness almost made Lucy giddy, in a mean sort of a way.
“What are you doing here, Lucy?” Holly asked, glancing around. “Lockwood isn’t here, is he?”
“No, he’s not,” Lucy said, mood souring. “He doesn’t need to know about this.”
Holly frowned. “Is this why you’ve been so beat-up lately?”
Great, even when she was attending an underground fight club, Holly still managed to lecture her. “What’s it to you?”
“I’m just concerned,” Holly snapped. “Am I not allowed to be worried about you?”
“Why are you here, Holly?” Lucy sighed, gesturing at the raucous around them. A nightwatch girl was fighting a Tendy agent while Flo and a crowd of others cheered and took bets. A couple of the older agents, including Kat and Lee, were drinking cheap beer on the collection of dirty sofas, balancing empty bottles on top of each other until they tipped over and shattered on the floor. Elsewhere, a competitive game of cards was happening and increasingly rude insults were being exchanged. It was a gritty, loud mess of a place, and Lucy loved every second of it.
It was no place for someone like Holly.
“I’m here to fight,” Holly insisted and Lucy barked with laughter.
“Right,” she said. “And I’m the Queen.”
“I’m being serious.” Holly crossed her arms with a small huff. “I want to fight.”
Lucy paused and assessed her. Holly seemed serious enough, though it was undercut by her pout. Another person might have described it as “cute” but Lucy would rather cut her own tongue out than admit that. Still, she’d never seen Holly in trousers, even on jobs, so perhaps she did intend to get in the ring.
“Alright,” Lucy said. “You can fight me.”
To her surprise, Holly gave her a half smile. “Perfect.”
Lucy led her to an open space to the side of the current fight and raised her fists. “There’s no rules, Miss Munro ,” she taunted. “Anything goes until the other person taps out. You think you can handle it?”
Holly smiled pleasantly and nodded. “I think I’ll be fine, Miss Carlyle .”
“Ooh!” Someone who sounded like Flo called. “Five quid on Carlyle, who’s in?”
A crowd formed around them, watching as Lucy and Holly circled each other. Holly delicately raised her fists in front of her face, clearly waiting for Lucy to take the first shot. Lucy obliged, eager to end this farce.
But Holly dodged, faster than she had any right to. The onlookers whooped and cheered, and Lucy gritted her teeth. “Why are you even here, Holly? This isn’t your sort of scene.”
Holly cocked her head. “You have no idea what my sort of ‘scene’ is. You know nothing about me.”
Lucy punched again, but Holly managed to deflect the blow with her arm. “I know enough,” Lucy huffed.
“I’m here ,” Holly said, advancing on Lucy. Lucy parried her hits, throwing her own that Holly dodged. “Because there’s a girl at work being really rude to me for no reason and I can’t do anything about it.”
“Oh, boo-hoo,” Lucy said. She landed a punch against Holly’s shoulder, reveling in the pained noise she made. “Except she has a reason. You swanned in and started bossing me around, telling me everything I do is wrong and- and-”
“And what? Spoke to Lockwood?” Lucy barely managed to dodge Holly’s punch, and used her momentum to throw Holly to the ground. She didn’t stay down long though, hair coming undone from her ponytail in a wild sort of way. It was the most unkempt Lucy had ever seen her. “You behave like a jealous child and it’s exhausting!”
Lucy threw herself at Holly, and they fell back onto the floor. The crowd gasped and scattered backwards to make room. They grappled for a moment, rolling around until Holly had the upper hand, straddling Lucy’s chest.
“Lockwood did me a huge favor by offering me that job,” Holly hissed, bringing a fist down against Lucy’s face. She felt her nose crack, pain blooming across her face. “I was the sole survivor of a job on Cotton Street! I had to throw myself out of a window to survive! Every bloody night I see their faces, remember their screams as they died! And when I finally get back on my feet, you try to drive me away because I’m- what ? Bossy? Friendly with a boy you like? Grow up , Lucy!”
Blood streamed from Lucy’s nose into her mouth and she struggled to speak. “I didn’t know,” she whispered.
“You didn’t want to know!” Holly’s cheeks were wet with tears.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said, and she meant it. “I…the same thing happened to me. I lost my whole team, before I came to London. I know what it's like. I'm sorry.”
Holly paused and only seemed to realize then what had happened. “Oh! Oh, no, Lucy, you’re bleeding so bad. Oh, no…” She scrambled off of Lucy to kneel beside her, helping her into a sitting position. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”
Lucy laughed. She genuinely laughed, feeling lighter than she had in ages. Her face burned with pain and there was blood on her tongue, but a weight had been lifted. “Don’t apologize, Hol,” Lucy said, though it came out thick and nasally. “That’s the point of this whole thing.”
Holly frowned. “I think I broke your nose.”
“Could’ve been worse.” Someone handed them a handkerchief and Holly mopped the blood from Lucy’s face. “Feel better?”
“Well, I don’t feel great about hurting you,” Holly said with furrowed brow. “But…yes. I do.”
“That’s all that matters.” Lucy gave Holly a smile—a real smile, not a forced one—and Holly smiled back, prettily as ever.
“Alright, who had money on the new girl?” Someone asked. “She kicked Carlyle’s arse.”
The next morning as Holly presented everyone with their perfectly-made cups of tea, she gave Lucy a friendly wink. Lucy returned it with a grin and thanked her for the drink. Lockwood watched with absolute bewilderment, but George didn’t seem surprised.
“Your nose looks a bit messed up, Luce,” he said around a mouthful of egg. “Been on those nasty steps again?”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “You’re seeing things.”
He laughed at her and moved onto nagging Lockwood about new flares. Holly hid her giggles behind her hand and brought her own tea over to the table. She sat down next to Lucy and Lucy found she didn’t mind one bit.
It ended with a slap.
Lucy deserved this one, too, but for very different reasons.
She should have known Lockwood would find out about the fight club eventually. Flo knew, George knew, Holly knew—it was inevitable. Lucy was coming home black and blue and she wasn’t sure he’d bought her excuse that she’d joined a recreational rugby league. Things were still tense between them, and she was certain this secret of hers was only making things worse. But what else was she going to do, meditate? Deep breathing? None of that worked quite as well as this.
Lucy was dabbing disinfectant on Kat’s latest battle wound, a cut across her eyebrow. Holly was overseeing the process, but was clearly trying her best not to tell Lucy all the ways in which she was doing it wrong.
Flo sauntered over to them, thumb jabbed over her shoulder. “Thought you might like to know, but Locky’s outside.”
“What?” Lucy’s hand froze, hovering over Kat’s face. “He’s here ?”
Flo nodded. “Georgie is, too, and a couple Fittes boys.”
“Shit,” Kat breathed. “Probably Kipps and Bobby.”
“Should I distract them?” Holly asked but Lucy shook her head.
“No,” she said with a sigh. “They were bound to find out eventually.”
Kat frowned but nodded. “Kipps is going to be furious .”
Before Lucy could agree, the boys made their way into the warehouse. Even from a distance, Lucy could see Lockwood’s bewildered expression at the sight of agents brawling, Kipps’ look of disgust. George, to his credit, only had eyes for Flo, waving to her. She waved back and left the girls to go join him.
“What in the hell is going on here?” Kipps demanded, storming up to them. Bobby Vernon trailed behind him at a light jog. Lockwood hung back, not meeting Lucy’s eyes. “Katherine Marie Godwin-”
“Don’t full-name me, Quill,” Kat snapped.
He scowled. “I will do whatever I damn well please. Why are you bleeding?” He turned his glare on Lucy. “Did you do this?”
“Not this time,” Lucy said, glaring back.
“Are you going to fire me?” Kat asked with her trademark sneer. “Report me? Demote me to trainee?”
“What?” Kipps looked startled. “No, I’m not-”
Bobby interrupted. “We’re worried about you, Kat. Ever since Ned died-”
“Here we go,” Kat muttered, rolling her eyes up to look at the ceiling. “Just because he and I were an item doesn’t mean I’ve turned all soft and weak just because he died.”
“Jesus, Kat,” Kipps said. “You started a bloody fight club. We don’t think you’re weak .”
“You’re the strongest person I know,” Bobby agreed. “But this is…a lot.”
Kipps’ expression softened and for the first time Lucy understood why he had been made a supervisor and team lead. “You haven’t cried once since the funeral. You’re allowed to, you know. You’re allowed to grieve.”
Kat’s face did something odd and complicated, wavering between emotions that Lucy couldn’t read. Holly tapped on her shoulder and indicated that they should leave, so Lucy handed off the first aid kit to Bobby and followed Holly’s lead. When she glanced back, she could see that Kipps and Bobby had Kat in a strange sort of hug. Kat didn’t even try to fight them.
“Here comes trouble,” Holly murmured and Lucy looked up in time to see Lockwood approach them. He looked between Lucy and Holly with disbelief, shaking his head.
“A fight club?” He asked. “Really?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Lucy quipped. Holly coughed, hiding a smile behind her fist.
“I’m not going to lecture either of you,” Lockwood said, though Lucy sensed this was a lie. “What you do outside of work is none of my business.” Holly looked skeptical at this. “But… this ?”
“It’s a good way to blow off steam,” Holly said. “There’s a great sense of camaraderie here.”
Lockwood rubbed his temples. His bewilderment was almost amusing. “Were you ever going to tell me about this?” He asked, and they all knew he was directing that solely at Lucy.
“No,” Lucy admitted. This didn’t seem to be the answer Lockwood was looking for.
He sighed and said, “Holly, could you give us a minute?”
She gave Lucy an apologetic look before backing away, going over to sit with George and Flo. Lucy met Lockwood’s eyes with defiance, ready for whatever blow he was going to deal.
“Why are you doing this?” He asked. “Do you not get hurt enough during jobs as it is?”
“I thought what I did outside work was none of your concern?” Lucy asked. It was childish, but she didn’t want to have this conversation. Not with Lockwood, of all people.
“Come off it, Lucy,” he said. “This isn’t healthy.”
“And?” Other than Holly breaking her nose, Lucy hadn’t sustained any real injuries from this club. But she’d made new friends, learned other people’s stories and overcome rivalries. And most importantly of all, she and Kat had created a place for agents to vent, to scream and fight against the injustices of their lives. “It makes me happy.”
Lockwood’s face softened, but only for a second. “You’ve been off since we hired Holly. What’s wrong? Why are you lurking in a- an abandoned building in the wrong part of town when you could be at home?”
Lucy huffed. “I’m not having this conversation with you,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.”
She turned to walk away, but Lockwood grabbed her arm and spun her back around. Before she could react, Lockwood—rather gently—slapped her cheek. It didn’t hurt in the slightest, more of a sharp tap than anything, but it left her bewildered.
“Show me, then,” he said, a frenzied but earnest look in his eyes.
Lucy gaped for a few seconds, then sighed. “I’m not fighting you, Lockwood.”
He tapped her cheek again, like a kitten slapping at a toy. “Why not?”
“Because you’ll hold back,” she said, crossing her arms. “And get hurt because of it.”
“I won’t hold back,” Lockwood promised.
“You will,” Lucy said. “And then you’ll get hurt because of me. For me. And I don’t want that.”
Lockwood reached out to tap her again but Lucy grabbed his arm, holding it back. He struggled against her grip, but Lucy had grown stronger over the past few weeks.
“You really won’t fight me,” he said. Lucy shook her head.
“Not until you learn to let me get hurt,” she said quietly. “You have to trust me and my abilities, in here and out there.” They both knew she wasn’t talking about fight club anymore.
“Why should I let you get hurt?” He asked. “Of course I don’t want that.”
Lucy swallowed back a lump in her throat. “If the cost of keeping me safe is you, then I don’t want that .”
Lockwood furrowed his brow, understanding sparking in his dark eyes. His face pinched together in pain, but he nodded.
“Okay,” he finally said. “I…will try. To keep us both from getting hurt.”
Lucy’s heart sang with joy and relief. “Good,” she said. “Now, let’s go join the others. I’ll bet Flo’s got a new betting pool going on those nightwatch kids over there.”
“At least start holding this at Portland Row,” Lockwood said, letting Lucy lead him to their friends. “This place is bound to fall apart any day now.”
“What, in the basement?” Lucy felt herself smile.
“No, I was thinking the library.” Lockwood laughed. “Yes, the basement. It’s not as big a space but it’s less likely to kill anyone.”
“Okay,” Lucy said. “Thank you, Lockwood.”
“Anything for you, Luce,” he said and her heart fluttered in her chest.
With a jolt of confidence and a dash of bravery, Lucy slipped her bruised and battered hand into Lockwood, pulling him along with her. He never let go.