Her Majesty's Necromancer (The Ministry of Curiosities #2)(69)

Then I felt the tender bruise on my cheek. I was not going to feel guilty for a single thing.

Jasper left the room and returned a moment later with fire irons and coal box. He was still smiling. I smiled back and poked my head out the door.

"He's still asleep," he whispered to me. "Shut the door."

I shut it and couldn't believe the man's naivety. Did he really believe I would just help him? I supposed he thought I was simply Lincoln's employee, easily bought like any other servant.

He knelt by the fire and opened the lid of the coal box.

"It will be nice to be appreciated for what I can do," I said cheerfully as I came up behind him. "And adequately compensated for it too."

"You're not appreciated where you are now, are you?" He scooped out some coal and shoveled it into the grate. "No one ever notices maids. I sympathize, Miss Holloway. No one ever notices the medics on the battlefield, either. It's all about the soldiers and officers. We're expendable but they're not."

I tightened my grip on the rope in both hands and quickly looped it around his neck. I pulled back hard, dragging him against my legs.

Jasper grappled at the rope but I held it so tight that his fingers couldn't get underneath it. He thrashed and tried to call out, but I'd shut off his wind pipe. His face turned red, then purple. His eyes bulged, as he peered up at me, his lips moving in a silent plea.

It was horrible.

I released the rope, but before he could recover, I brought my elbow down on his temple. The blow knocked him out.

I picked up the fire iron and opened the office door. Jimmy's snore was the only sound coming from the reception room. He sat sprawled in a chair, his feet on the desk, his head tipped back and his mouth open. I crept past him to the door that led to the street, but it was locked.

Blast! I searched for a key nearby, but found none. It must be in a drawer or on either Jasper or Jimmy's person.

I couldn't believe I'd got this far only to stumble at the last hurdle. I quietly opened the top drawer of the reception desk, but it mustn't have been quiet enough. Jimmy snorted and woke up. I froze.

"Oi! What're you doing?" He lunged at me, but I jabbed the fire poker into his stomach, not hard, but enough to keep him at bay and make him think I would run it through him if pressed.

"Where's the key to the front door?"

Jasper groaned from the next room. Jimmy glanced toward him, and swallowed heavily "Captain! Captain! You there?"

"He's dead," I told him. "That's the sound of his spirit waking up inside his body."

He licked dry lips. "You're pullin' me leg."

"Am I? Just wait a moment and we'll see, shall we? It takes spirits time to become aware again, but once they are, they're under my control. I'll get him to show you how strong he is now that he's dead." I smiled, injecting it with as much wickedness as I could muster. Please believe me, you stupid blighter.

"Don't," he said, licking his lips again. "Don't let him out here. I don't want no trouble."

"Give me the key so I can leave."

Jasper groaned again and called out something unintelligible.

Jimmy crossed himself with a trembling hand. "Take him with you!"

"I have to get out to do that."

"Second drawer." He nodded at the desk.

"You get it, then unlock the door."

I stepped aside and he jerked the second drawer open. The key sat on top of some paperwork. He fished it out and dashed to the door. He fumbled once but managed to insert the key in the lock. I glanced back at the office. I could hear Jasper recovering. If he managed to come out and convince Jimmy that he was alive, I wouldn't stand a chance.

"Hurry!" I whispered.

Jimmy finally unlocked the door and wrenched it open. We jostled to be the first out, and burst through together. I ran one way and he another.

I kept the fire iron with me and fled down lanes and streets that were both familiar and not until I felt I was far enough from the office that I wouldn't be traced.

I slowed to catch my breath and take note of my location. The cold air made my cheek ache even more. Pain shot up from my left foot too and blood dripped onto the pavement. I'd cut it on something sharp.

I held the fire iron tighter and limped out of the lane. I knew this spot. It was near one of my favorite places to relieve gentlemen of their wallets. I was far from Lichfield, but at least I knew the way. I walked on, but the pain in my foot grew worse. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, at least, but I couldn't put all my weight on it. I'd grown soft since moving into Lichfield. I used to be able to walk barefoot for miles in the cold and not feel this wretched.

Few people were awake at such an early hour. Some delivery boys eyed me up and down, and one made a lewd comment about my state, but no one offered me help. I didn't care. I would be home soon.

Home, at Lichfield, with a warm bath and bed waiting for me, and friends to bandage my foot and see to my cheek. Friends who cared for me, not because I was a necromancer, but because they liked me.

Lincoln was among them. At least, I hoped he still considered me a friend. Somehow, that didn't matter as much as being welcomed back. We could rebuild our friendship in time if I were to remain at Lichfield.

It took me twice as long to reach Highgate as it would have without a limp. The traffic going in the opposite direction thickened as bank clerks and office workers headed into the city. Several gentlemen asked if I needed assistance, but I politely refused and limped on. It felt like I'd been walking all day, but it had probably only been two hours since setting out from Savile Row.