Emma Holloway - A Study in Ashes

“I don’t know you.”

Oh, but you do, now that I think about it. It was your judge and jury that murdered my family and made me a whore . But the smile she gave him was conspiratorial. “A few days, Mr. Keating. Check on me as often as you like, but I will keep the information flowing for you. And I saw what you did to someone who crossed you. I may be a tart, but I’m not a fool.”

“All other considerations aside,” he said coldly, “there will be fierce competition to fill this sudden vacancy at the top. If I grant you this position, how do you propose to keep it?”

That almost made her smile. “Your support will of course be an important factor, but I also have my own means, and my own staff. Not to mention my own tools of the trade. I know how to maintain discipline .” She lingered slightly—just slightly—on the last words.

He caught his breath, the pupils of his eyes expanding, and she knew she had him. It’s always the dominating ones that secretly want it .

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said. “I don’t want to hear a word that anything here is different. Not a whisper about Mrs. Cutter. I’ll send Yellowbacks to watch you.”

And she had no illusions that he’d let her live one second longer than it suited him. She gave a low curtsy. “I’ll be waiting.”

Keating left.

I’ll be waiting and we’ll see what sort of a reception we can arrange, Yellowbacks or no . Hyacinth rose and waited a moment, looking around the room but avoiding the sight of the dead woman on the floor. The place still wasn’t as lush as the home she’d grown up in, but it was a sight better than Whitechapel. A step in the right direction, at least .

She went to the door and called in Tigress and Gareth, then gave them a series of orders beginning with the quiet removal of the body. Such things weren’t unheard of in their line of work, although thankfully not all that common.

Then she found an unopened bottle of wine, uncorked it, and poured herself a glass. She bet the Violet Queen had a nice bedchamber, and nice clothes, and perhaps a nice little safe with lots of jewels. She could see herself holding court in the demimonde, young and beautiful, courted by rich men, pretty men, and titled men. But she would keep her heart for the Pomeranian. The dog at least would be likely to love her back.

Hyacinth finished the glass of wine, wondering if she should reclaim her real name of Violet, or if that would just be too confusing.

And then she went to the back of the house, opening doors until she found the one she wanted. As expected, there was a plump, pale body strapped to a chevalet much nicer than the one in her old house. “Hello, Mr. Tunbridge. You were quite a naughty boy, sneaking out to come here instead of to our usual appointment.”

The man strapped to the table made an inarticulate sound—that special mix of anticipation and fear—as she opened the doors to a very lovely mahogany cabinet. Floggers of all kinds hung on gleaming brass hooks. She picked one out, testing its flexibility.

“I believe we shall have to clear the air between us, don’t you?”

Over Bath, October 14, 1889

ABOARD THE ATHENA

3:30 p.m. Monday

“WHAT WENT ON DOWN THERE?” STRIKER DEMANDED, catching Nick’s arm as he tried to walk past him in the Athena ’s narrow corridor. Striker’s dusky skin was scraped off in some patches and bruising in others, and it looked like it hurt.

“I found Evelina and I brought her back,” Nick replied tersely.

“I’d expect more celebration,” Striker said dryly. “She hasn’t stirred from your quarters. Normally, I’d say that was a good thing when a pirate catches a wench, but this isn’t like that.”

“She needs time.”

Striker’s eyes narrowed. “I saw the body. You didn’t do that. Did she?”

Nick grabbed the front of Striker’s jacket, pulling him close. “And what of it?”

The man held up his palms. “I had your back, remember? I just want to know what I’m dealing with. This big ship could get small enough if there’s danger on board.”

Nick swore and let him go. “Evelina’s no danger to us.”

Striker folded his arms, his bulk nearly filling the corridor. “Your wench was with the sorcerer and it doesn’t look like it went well for him.”

“I wouldn’t call her a wench to her face. Or mine.”

“Then what is she, Captain?”

“She has the Blood like me.” Nick scrubbed his hands over his face. He had slept a few hours after they’d got back to the Athena , but it had been the collapse of exhaustion and not true rest. “She’s my responsibility.”

Striker’s silence was eloquent.

“Get used to her,” Nick growled. “We’ll need her talents before this is over.”

Striker grunted. “If she wants to fight for us, then that’s all right.”

“Good,” Nick said with finality.

Striker shot him a look that bordered on amusement. “We’re an hour outside of Bath. Maybe this time we’ll actually get to dock.” With that he turned and limped toward the navigation room.

Nick stood in the corridor, the narrow doors of the crew quarters looking clean and neat in a way that still surprised him. The Red Jack had been a fine ship, but old. This had the scrubbed look of a debutante.

The thought catapulted him into a memory of seeing Evie before her first ball, her dress white as whipped cream and just as tempting. Of course, he’d been gawping at her through the iron bars of a gate. He’d wanted her with all his flesh and soul. He still did. Nick strode to the last door, a shade larger than the rest, and went into his quarters.

Evelina was on the bed, curled into the corner of the room with her knees tucked under her chin. It was dim, the only light coming from a modest porthole above the side of the bed. A tray of food sat on the desk, untouched. Nick’s gaze swept the tiny room and concluded she hadn’t stirred from that spot since he’d left her. Sadness, tinged with a pinch of frustration, stiffened his shoulders.

Something in the way she held herself reminded him of a spooked horse. He didn’t know exactly what had gone on at Magnus’s castle, but it had shattered any ideas Evie’d had about a benign universe. Rebuilding them would be long and hard, and he would have to be patient. And yet, he couldn’t help a surge of pleasure at seeing her there, in his room and on his ship. He was on the right side of the gate this time.

“You should come out and see the rest of the Athena ,” he suggested mildly.

“I saw it coming in. It’s lovely.” Her voice was soft, as if made from the subdued light. It was also just as gray.

With an inward sigh, he crossed the room and sat down beside her, his back to the wall. He put an arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m sorry, Evie girl.”

She let out a shuddering breath, leaning into him like a tired child. “I was foolish not to tell you about the laboratories, but I wanted you to find your ship.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Stop making choices for me. It never ends well.” Twice she’d even parted from him, thinking it would be for his own good. But they always ended up back together, where they belonged.

“I’m a soul-eating monster,” she said dismally.

“With cold feet.”

He felt her mood shift, resisting his attempt at levity. “You say you can stop me from turning into another Magnus, or worse.”

“All in a day’s work.” He wasn’t sure how, but it wasn’t the kind of thing one could plan in detail, anyway.

“He’d lived for thousands of years, stealing the life from others,” she murmured. “And it makes sense. If there was a way to stay alive, how could he stop himself from taking it?”