Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(15)

My mouth fell open. “If what I say is true? What do you mean?”

“People take advantage of us,” Daniel said. “More than a few have come here with false or overblown tales. But we’re not here to take on their family’s two hundred-year-old haunting—we’re here to stop a necromancer.”

“But I don’t have a haunting! I have a missing brother and—”

“And we don’t have time.” Daniel’s lips curled up, challenging me to argue.

Joseph intervened. “Miss Fitt, what Daniel says is true. We are extremely busy. This necromancer first raised the Dead in New York, and the police called us in several weeks ago. Several opium addicts were found, well... let us just say they were in a rather gruesome state.”

“There’s no need to censor yourself.” I sat up straighter. “I can handle the details. I grew up with stories of the Dead like everyone else.”

Daniel choked out a laugh. “Go on then, Joseph. You heard the lady. Might as well tell her the men were decapitated sacrifices.”

Joseph sighed. “Daniel, you have the manners and tact of a gorilla.”

“Ha.” Daniel shot me a wide grin. I spun my gaze to my shoes. The ruffian.

“Continue, please,” I mumbled.

“Well, the manner of their deaths”—Joseph flourished a gloved hand toward his head—“suggested the men were killed as a sacrifice for power. The fact that the corpses were also found as reanimated corpses proved it was the work of a necromancer. But then as suddenly as the bodies had begun appearing, they stopped.

“Or so we thought. We soon heard about a Philadelphia man found dead but walking, and judging by the similarity in... well, the similarity in sacrificial methods, we knew our necromancer had moved. Here.”

Daniel picked up the story, “People can handle one or two walking Dead—just burn ’em or blast ’em to smithereens—but a whole cemetery’s worth? And a necromancer decapitating the living? Not too many chaps are comfortable dealing with that.

“So we offered our services to the Exhibition board. Most folks with Joseph’s skills”—he cocked his head toward the Creole—“don’t leave New Orleans.”

“No,” Joseph said, “they do not.” For a moment his face sagged, but in an instant the expression passed and he gave me a curt nod. “Thus far the Dead have only harassed the Exhibition, and fortunately, these corpses have only been moderately dangerous. The rest of Philadelphia is untouched.”

“But it won’t stay that way.” Daniel slumped against the table, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No.” Joseph’s lips thinned. “And though the board has hired us, it is a constant battle to prove the investment is worthwhile. The members cannot see the danger of the situation, and there are politics involved. We have only been hired for show—to soothe visitors’ nerves.

“Nonetheless, we have a job to do. We must first protect the Exhibition, and in our available time, we must train the Exhibition patrolmen to fight the Dead. Fire will not do in a place that ignites easily.” He waved his hands toward the Main Building, which could be seen through the window. “But most important of all, we must stop this necromancer.

“And so, Miss Fitt, if the corpses and the spirit are not directly threatening you, then I see no reason we should strain ourselves further.”

“No threat!” I jumped to my feet. “What of my brother? They have him!”

Daniel scoffed. “There’s no proof of that.”

“What about the spirit? It was evil.” My voice came out loud and filled all the space in the tiny lab. “I know it—it touched me!”

“Miss Fitt.” Joseph stood stiff and straight, his jaw clenched. “There are many spirits free in Philadelphia. Hauntings happen all the time, and most are harmless. My job is here, where the most danger exists for the most people.”

“Besides,” Daniel inserted, his lips pressed into a grim line, “if the Dead do have your brother, he’s probably dead himself.”

My stomach flipped. It punched the breath from my lungs. I toppled forward, grasping for the table. Both men jolted. Joseph, who was nearer, caught me and slid a supportive arm under my elbow. He eased me back onto my stool.

“Just because a corpse delivered your brother’s letter,” he murmured gently, “does not mean the Dead have him.”

I nodded, unable to speak. Daniel’s words repeated over and over in my head. Probably dead himself. Elijah. Dead. No—I couldn’t believe it. It was too soon to give up.

Joseph must have understood my thoughts. “Ignore Daniel. Please, Mamzèi. Perhaps if you bring us your brother’s letter tomorrow, I will see what I—”

A rapid clanging erupted outside the lab and cut him off. The telegraph leaped into action.

It was the Dead alarm.

CHAPTER SIX

Daniel reacted instantly to the peal of the alarm.

He dropped to the floor and dragged a machine from under the table. It looked like a spinning wheel attached to a wooden platform, and it was as tall as my knees. Rather than wooden wheels for making thread, though, this machine had two glass wheels for making... I hadn’t the faintest idea. The glass wheels were connected by gears and a handle, and at both ends of the platform, metal spindles shot up over the glass.