The Samurai That I Loved

第58章

The rain was a dismal companion to London. The fog and soot were persistent followers, basking everything inside a dark, cloudy haze of dampness and chill. People and carriages crowded the street, moving to and fro with hats, coats, shawls and mittens bundled close. Black umbrellas clutched in several hands did nothing but make the entire atmosphere appear even more bleak.

Cantering down the cobbled street on a black stallion with a scarlet scarf whipping in the breeze, Yoru paid no mind to the rain, nor the depressing scene around him. His almond eyes remained vigilant for only one face, one burst of red amongst the black and gray.

He knew she was inside the city. There was no place else she would have gone but straight into his arms. He cursed himself for not taking her when he had the chance. He should have disregarded the con, the law, the damn world and spirited her away in the dead of night. All of this excruciating worry could have easily been avoided.

Yet he also couldn't stop questioning why Eliza had fled in the first place. What had made her run?

Hopkins urged his horse beside Yoru's and mentioned in a serious tone, "A woman venturing inside the city by herself...Mate, the odds are slim, I'm just warning you."

Yoru nearly snapped as he whipped his piercing gaze onto him, "I will find her! She isn't dead, nor gone, only lost." His words were unexpectedly harsh to his own ears, "If you can offer no other advice, then why are you even here?"

"Because you need to prepare yourself for the worst and knowing you like I do, you won't. You have a constant, unnatural outlook on life and the things you go after. Don't you know one of these days, that mentality will get you killed or broken within the mind?!" Hopkins argued back with incredulous brows and an opened mouth.

Yoru muttered a slew of Japanese beneath his breath, jerking his gaze back to the street ahead as a muscle ticked in his smooth jaw.

"What do you think has kept me alive all these years? You forget where I come from. You know nothing if you believe I would ever act out of uncertainty or fear. Eliza-chan is alive. I am going to find her." His eyes darkened, his chin lowered slightly, casting inky black threads of his hair to frame the high planes of his cheek bones, "And when I do, I'm going after that bastard who thinks he can keep her from me."

"See? That right there!" Hopkins snapped, pointing his finger at him from his horse, "That's the kind of talk that will get you buried six feet under."

Yoru cast him a smirk that glinted through his black eyes, "That's the kind of talk that saved even your ass once upon a time, or have you forgotten already who saved you from getting thrown overboard when Xiao Lung wanted you dead?"

Hopkins scowled and darted his eyes away as he mumbled, "We don't talk about Xiao Lung."

Up ahead, a brick and mortar Infirmary came into view through the ashen smog. The building stood three stories tall with white columns erected in the front as an entrance, although sickly and homeless lined its stone steps with a promise of disappointment and despair. The double doors remained closed with only occasional nurses coming and leaving.

Yoru gazed at it, a deep knowing and fear inching its way into his heart.

"There." He said, "I'm going in."

"Don't forget what I said. You may not be pleased by what you find." Hopkins answered with a sigh.

Yoru swung off the horse, leaving the reins with Hopkins before running up the steps with heavy shoulders and an unsettled countenance. Parting wide both the doors, he marched into the hospice with searching eyes.

The room was large and far more open than what he had expected. Rows upon rows of meager, iron-framed beds lined down the center and each wall of the room. The thick, rancid smell of sickness plagued the entire area like an invisible blanket of mortality. She had to be here. If she wasn't... he would not consider anything else.