Stolen Petals Read Free Page B

several black doors stood out against the resin walling as the entrances and exits. The translucent barrier surrounding the entire sub-bus system traveled through sections of London and coursed past all areas of the city. Viola strode into the temperature controlled interior as she took her place by the benches.
    The sub-bus thundered down the tracks, a vision of powder white and steel. As the brakes squealed to a halt, men and women shuffled off from either side, most wearing the mud-splattered boots and threadbare blouses one would expect for denizens of Shantytown.
    Viola boarded and made her way to the holographic console, which outlined the map of the stops. She fed the machine credits, enough to get her to the station nearest Henrietta's manor and after grabbing her ticket, she slid into the closest open seat. The seats were leather-lined and solid—which, given the traffic of the line wouldn't keep for long. When the last of the people boarding paid up, the sub-bus set off again, the only indication being the slight sway.
    She closed her eyes, listening to the hum of the machinery and inhaling the smell of eucalyptus and bleach. Better that than the dirt and grease odor most of the Shantytown citizens tended to drag along with them. One of the positives about taking public transportatio n — she wouldn't run into any of the regulars at her bar. High-class customers didn't stoop to low transportation, something that often worked in her favor.
    The sub-bus slid to a halt, with a metallic voice announcing the same stop flashing across the rolling header above the end of every car. No one else stood but Viola and a couple stares flicked her way. Posh neighborhood like this, the stop was more of a courtesy than anything. She stepped out onto the paved streets and followed the signs in the direction of the mansion. From her bag, she tugged out a black feathered fascinator with a sheer veil. Eccentric stood out less than low class.
    As she walked along the sparse streets, she straightened her skirt, making sure all her equipment stayed in place. When a uniformed officer came strolling by, she placed a hand to her face and let out a coy chuckle, her fingers brushing against the mesh veil. The officer nodded and kept along his path. Manipulation was her favorite sort of game, much preferred to brute force.
    This stretch of the road, the houses were few and the grounds plentiful. After all, old blood lived in this part of town, and with old blood came older money. Even when she pulled in large bounties, and though she'd amassed quite a bit for herself, the upper crust lived in a different world. She put on the mask, enjoyed the small talk and the importance of minutiae regarding appearance, but at the end of the day, her gears clicked to a different time.
    Wild rose and ivy grew freely along stone walls that had withstood the weather for countless years. After passing several estates, Viola approached the Brownetree grounds.
    Even in the far distance, the manor was breathtaking, huge, and red-bricked with sprawling ivy stretching over half of it. Embellished spheres capped miniature turrets, catching the sunlight and casting rainbows on the asphalt. Landscaped lawns of an almost neon green stretched out, interspersed by gardens of every color and included a section of metallic lilies which glittered under the sun.
    However, for Viola, the cast iron gates created a more pressing matter since they stretched higher than she would've liked. She strolled by, casting an idle glance as she played the passersby. Guards, about six of them, stood there in their pressed maroon and cream uniforms. Unfortunately for her, the wall surrounding the place had no end in the distance.
    Birdcalls trilled from high above, drawing her eyes to the smattering of trees fringing the manor from behind. With the tree line in the back, they'd have no need of further walls, which meant that would be the best place to scope out fast entry and exit points for