Chapter 9
JACK CURSED HIMSELf all the way from Whitstable to London. It was a beautiful, clear night. A full moon shone overhead, making it nearly as bright as day. In other words, it was a terrible evening to be moving contraband brandy.
Where was England’s famous rain and fog when you needed it?
Well, there was nothing he could do. He had brandy aging by the day and customers clamoring for it.
He’d brought along another pair of hands to help with the lifting, but Jeremiah was more brute than brain. He had a Vallen father and no idea who his mother had been. If he had any magic in him he didn’t show it, but it didn’t bother him at all when Jack used his, and that was all that mattered.
Basement doors were opened at a gentle knock. He and Jeremiah handed down two crates filled with bo
