Ghostly Echoes (Jackaby #3)(17)

“So you’re a freak, too, huh?” sneered the big man.

I couldn’t see Jackaby’s face, but I could almost hear the broad grin in his answer. “I’m not generally one for titles, but that is one I’ll embrace with pride.”

“Whatever,” the man spat. “You can have him. That sick bastard ain’t the innocent virgin from your fairy tale, Mr. Detective Man. And we ain’t the monsters here.”

“Oh, you seem to have gotten the wrong impression,” Jackaby replied. “The metaphor may be appropriate—but I wasn’t simply speaking figuratively.” He held up one of the little red rocks. “I was explaining what you’re up against. Cherufe’s tears are rare relics, and more than I care to waste tonight. When I packed I was anticipating more menacing monsters than the likes of you. I think we are both fortunate we could conclude our little encounter on reasonable terms. Good day, gentlemen.”

Jackaby turned and walked away.

“You are a freak!” the man yelled after him.

Jackaby kept walking.

“Better not let me see that sicko around here again!” the man hollered. “His kind don’t deserve to walk free! You should’ve let us finish teaching him a lesson! It was for his own good!”

Jackaby stopped. His fists were clenched.

“If I ever see him again, I’ll—” The man never finished his taunt.

The first red rock hit the ground with an ardent blast. The cobblestones liquefied on contact, and, with a splash of flame, the alleyway in front of the thugs was suddenly glowing with heat, bubbles of bright orange spattering and sizzling as they popped.

The men fell backward, but Jackaby let fly another stone before they could rally. It arced over their heads and erupted on the other side of the thin alleyway, locking them between two glowing pools of magma. Terror danced across their faces in flickering reds and yellows.

“If you ever see her again,” my employer growled, “you will remember that monsters pick on the weak and the harmless because it is the monsters who are afraid.” He held the final stone in his fingers and stepped to the edge of the bubbling pool. “And they are right to be afraid.”

The men cowered against the bare bricks as Jackaby raised his hand for a final throw. “No! Don’t!” The ringleader’s voice cracked.

“Leave them be.” The voice at my side startled me. It was soft and low.

Jackaby turned. His arm dropped slowly until it hung at his side. He was breathing heavily.

Behind him, the magma was already cooling, ruby red pools hardening to charred black rock. The three men scrambled, jumping over the patch on the far side and scampering off into the night.

“They would not have been merciful to you,” said Jackaby.

“No,” she agreed. “They wouldn’t.”

Jackaby’s lips turned up ever so slightly. “Ah, I see. That’s precisely the point, isn’t it? Yes. I suppose you’re right.”

“I’d rather be the maiden than the monster any day,” the woman said. “But you’re wrong about me.”

Jackaby raised his eyebrows. “Oh? I’m generally a very good judge of character.”

“Weak and harmless?”

Jackaby paused. “I did not mean to imply . . . but fair enough. My apologies. Please allow me to introduce myself—”

“Detective Jackaby,” she said. “I read the papers, too, mister. You had a hat in the picture.”

Jackaby nodded with a pout. “I certainly did. A good hat, too. This is my associate, Miss Abigail Rook.”

“My heroes,” she said. “You can call me Lydia. Lydia Lee.”

“Charmed, Miss Lee,” I said. “I would rather our meeting had come under better circumstances.”

She laughed weakly. It was a deep, husky laugh. “That’s sweet, miss, but I don’t see folks like you ever meeting someone like me under better circumstances.”

I swallowed, not knowing how to respond. “We’ll get you to a hospital straightaway,” I said.

“Don’t bother with any of that,” she said, making an effort to straighten up. “I’ve been through worse. I’ll be through worse again.”

Jackaby stepped forward to take her other arm. “And still true to yourself. You are anything but weak, Miss Lee, I’ll grant you that. If you won’t accept our help, then please allow us the pleasure of your company as far as your front door?”

Miss Lee accepted Jackaby’s arm and we escorted her a few blocks to the east, where she informed us that she shared a cramped apartment on the second floor. Lamps lit up in the windows as we approached, and a crowd of women soon came pouring out of the nearby doorways to help. An old woman with thick gray curls tied back in a tight bun pushed to the front. She rounded on Jackaby before we had even reached the stairs. “Is this your doing?” She menaced Jackaby with a prod from a hefty rolling pin.

Lydia waved her off. “It’s okay, Mama Tilly. They’re only helping.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” I asked as one of Miss Lee’s neighbors took my place at her side, nudging me out of the way.

“I’ll be fine, miss,” she said, wincing as she tested her weight on the first step. Jackaby spoke quietly with the woman called Mama Tilly, and then as quickly as we had gotten ourselves into the whole mess, we were out of it. Jackaby trod back up the road as if nothing had happened.