Her Majesty's Necromancer (The Ministry of Curiosities #2)(48)

"Answer her," Gordon growled. "I'd like to know what you want with me too, now that I'm dead."

The captain hugged his bag tighter and tried to edge past Gordon toward the door. Gordon blocked his path. The captain swallowed heavily. Now that he was closer to Gordon, he must be able to see the signs of decomposition. He'd gone quite a bit paler.

"Y—you're…Gordon Thackery."

Gordon nodded. "I have no twin."

"Y—you're dead."

"Quite. Tell me, Captain, did you kill me? I don't seem to recall much from that night, except that you visited me here."

The captain began to shake all over and a drop of sweat trickled down the side of his face. "Let me out! Let me out of here!"

Nobody came to his aid.

He tried to dodge Gordon but couldn't. Cursing, he opened his bag and pulled out a gun. He didn't point it at Gordon, however. He pointed it at me.

"No!" I cried. "Don't shoot!"

Gordon put up his hands in surrender and stepped aside. The captain ran past, flipped the curtain aside, and disappeared.

"You promised me discretion!" he shouted at someone, presumably Mr. Lee. Then the main door slammed shut.

As I once more struggled to stand, the Chinaman who'd been guarding the downstairs door suddenly appeared. He held a pistol, although at first I thought it was a black lizard. The part of my brain still functioning normally realized that it was a hallucination.

"You, out," he ordered Gordon and me. "Mr. Lee want no trouble."

"We'd better do as he says, Miss Charlie," Gordon said. "Mr. Lee may have sent for you, but I'm assuming this is more than he bargained for."

"Agreed." I was about to get up when the body on the bed gave a final gasp then went still. A moment later the spirit rose from it, glanced around, and was about to take off when it saw me watching him and not his body.

"Good evening," I said. "My name is Charlie Holloway. I'm a necromancer."

"A bloody what?"

I waved my hand. It was too difficult to explain. "Can you tell me what that man wanted with you? The man known as the captain?"

"Jasper? What's it to you?"

Jasper! I must remember that. "It's a long story, but he's linked to some grave robberies."

He shrugged. "Why should I care?"

"Because your body may be the next one he steals from its final resting place."

That got his attention. The spirit swooped closer. "Did he kill me?"

"I don't know. He might have, or you might have died anyway. I do know that he's feeding a substance to opium addicts while they are barely conscious, then, after their death, digging up their bodies. Can you tell us any more than that?"

The spirit's features bunched into a frown. "That bloody cur. If he hadn't run off like a coward, I'd bloody kill him."

"Sir? Answer my question, please."

"I don't need to answer nothing, now. But I can tell you this. If that man had anything to do with my death, I'll come back and haunt him until he's out of his mind. If you find him, you tell him that from me."

"I'll be sure to." I sighed. "So you can't tell me anything more?"

"No." The mist looked at the ceiling and I thought he was about to disappear when he added, "He fed me something on a spoon sometimes, and said my sacrifice would be worth it."

"Worth it? Worth what?"

"That's all I know." Without even a goodbye, the mist drifted off.

"Well, that was rude," I said, finally pushing myself to my feet. Except my feet wouldn't obey and I fell back onto the bed once more. I tried, and failed, again. I yawned and closed my heavy eyelids. "I might rest here a few moments."

"Not yet," Gordon said. "I got you, Miss Charlie." He scooped me into his arms and turned toward the door. I opened my eyes when he didn't move.

The Chinamen still barred the doorway, but he now shook from head to toe, his eyes huge as he stared at Gordon. Mr. Lee stood beside him, a gun in hand. He seemed more composed, or perhaps he thought the cadaver advancing on him was merely an opium-fueled illusion. Either way, he was unperturbed. He lowered his gun, bowed, and backed out through the doorway.

Gordon went to follow, but the young Chinaman wasn't quite so calm. Sweat dripped from his temples and beaded on his bare top lip. The hand that held the pistol shook as he raised it.

"Put it down." If I'd had any doubts that Gordon had been in the army, his command would have banished them. "Let us pass."

The Chinaman said something in his native tongue, shook his head, and fired.





CHAPTER 11


The sound of shattering glass set off a sequence of seemingly disconnected events. The room went dark—or perhaps I'd closed my eyes. I spun around and around, like I was on an out of control carousel. But wasn't Gordon holding me? My head swam. My stomach lurched. I fell.

I landed on something soft, much to my aching head's appreciation. I passed a hand over my stinging eyes—they were definitely open—and felt around me.

I touched something. An arm, a shoulder, a face and hair. The corpse on the bed. I screamed, but it was lost in the din of noise that had exploded in the room. Voices blended together like an out of tune orchestra, some shouting, others groaning. I heard my name, but I couldn't be certain who'd called it.