His Lordship Possessed (19 page)

She didn’t.

“You’re not really going to do this,” I assured her.

“You can’t hand me over to them like I’m nothing to you.

I was your friend long before you met Charlie.” When

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she said nothing, I felt my heart clench. “Sweet Mary,

Bridget Sullivan. Were you ever mine?”

A mask of real anger settled over her face. “I never

met anyone as bloody mule-headed as you, Kit. Told

you to stay away from the Hill, didn’t I? But no. You

had to go nosing round Walsh and his business. You did

this to yourself, dearie.” She strode to me, grabbing me

by the hair and jerking me close. In a murmur, she said,

“Th ey took Charlie and the kids, and they’re holding

them on a ship somewhere. Said I’d only get them back

alive if I did this. Sorry, love.” In a louder voice she said,

“And I’m done with you.” She slipped her hand into a

seam on the side of my skirt that shouldn’t have been

open. I understood why it was when I felt the second

of Wrecker’s blades being tucked in my garter. “If you

know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up now, and when

they take you to the master, give him exactly what he

deserves.”

I had to put on a show for Walsh’s men when they

returned, so I struggled and called out to her, begging

for her to save me while wanting her to do no such thing

at all.

Bridget pretended to be indiff erent, although just as

they dragged me off she looked sick.

Outside the shop the men used the rope to bind my

wrists and ankles, so there was no getting to Wrecker’s

blade after they tossed me in the back of their carri. I fell over on my side and stayed there, enduring the jolting as

I thought through every possible course of action.

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Obviously Zarath wouldn’t be fooled by renewed

protestations of my love this time round. I’d count myself

a lucky gel to get a word out before he took retribution.

As long as I was bound I couldn’t use Wrecker’s knife to

defend myself. Anyway, the blade was steel, and would

do nothing to hurt the Aramanthan. If I were smart I’d

plant it in my own heart as soon as I got a hand free.

Zarath couldn’t hurt a corpse.

But the Reapers intended to turn everyone in Rumsen

into walking corpses, and I couldn’t allow that, not if

there was something I could do to stop them. I’d also

promised Dredmore that I would set his spirit free.

I smelled the docks a few seconds before the carri

screeched to a stop. I closed my eyes and went limp,

keeping up the pretense of a faint until one of them

tossed me over his shoulder. From that vantage point I

saw (upside down and in snatches, of course) that they

were delivering me to a big clipper with black sails and

a pitch-covered hull. Up the gangway we went, and I

caught a few glimpses of a group of men in bankers’ suits

before I was dumped on the deck before them.

“Untie her; she’s not going anywhere. Th is
is
the one who attacked the master?” one of the suits asked as the

rope was removed from my wrists and ankles.

“Aye. Caught her at the gowner’s.”

Th rough the slits of my eyes I watched the two

footmen retreat before I concentrated on being nothing

more than a pile of laundry.

“Very good. I wasn’t anxious to cut the throat of such

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a valuable pawn as Duluc,” the suit said, his chilly voice

closer now. He nudged me over with a careless prod of

his shoe. “I know this tart. She hires herself out to dispel magic.” His tone hardened. “Bringing her here was

foolish. Even on the Hill she has a reputation for being

most eff ective.”

“She has but a few pathetic tricks,” a new but very

familiar voice replied. “None of them will stop us or save

her now.” Celestino. So, he had survived my stabbing.

I could only cringe on the inside and pray that Zarath

would make an appearance before his underling repaid

me in kind.

“I know what happened when the master returned to

us,” the suit said. “If she is so harmless, then why would

Lucien Dredmore surrender his body to protect her?”

“Walsh said the fool was in love with her.”

I dared lifted one eyelid, just enough to see the Talian,

his hair hanging in oily rings over his forehead, his arm

bound up in a sling tied over his blood-blotched jacket.

He walked to me and as he crouched down I closed my

eye again. “Why is she like this? Did you beat her into

unconsciousness?”

“No, sir,” the footman said. “She fainted.”

“Th ey are so delicate, the ladies of this country.”

Celestino stood up. “But this one, she is more like the

cockroach. You must crush her under your heel slowly,

like a tick.”

Guessing what he meant to do, I bit the inside of my

lip, but the boot that slammed into my belly kicked a cry

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of pain up through my teeth.

“Th at would be for stabbing me,” the Talian

mentioned as he drew back his boot. “And this”—he

kicked me in the back—” is for the master.”

Knowing there would be more of the same or worse, I

curled over and made pitiful noises, crawling a bit while

I measured the distance between my body and the edge

of the deck. Th ere was railing to contend with, but not a

great height of it.

“Zarath wanted her alive, did he not?” one of the suits

inquired.

“So he will have her,” Celestino said. “A few broken

bones will not make any diff erence to him.”

When his boot struck my ribs, I turned onto my

side, tucking my arms against me and wailing as if he’d

cracked something. Th e fourth time he came at me I let

the impact roll me over—and kept rolling until I collided

with the railing.

I was up and over the side before anyone could react,

and plummeted down the side of the ship like a stone.

Before I fell between the hull and the dock into the

murky water I reached out, catching a mooring rope with

my hands. Splinters of oakum stabbed into my palms,

and grabbing on in mid-fall nearly wrenched my arms

out of their sockets, but I didn’t let go. Once I stopped

bobbing I swung my legs out and back, out and back until

I had enough momentum to make the leap to the dock.

I collapsed on the boards as soon as I landed, and

for a moment I wasn’t sure I could rise again. Th en I

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heard fast, heavy thuds and the gangway bouncing and

struggled to my feet.

I hiked up my skirts and ran from the ship to the way

station, where I glanced back. Celestino and his men had

reached the bottom of the gangway, but they weren’t

chasing me. Th ey were just standing there, watching.

Slowly I turned round to see Dredmore walking

toward me with an unhurried pace. He wore a new set of

powder-free clothing, over which he had put on Lucien’s

greatcoat, and carried a strange black club covered with

scarlet symbols.

“Oh, hello, Lucien.” I had nowhere to run, and too

many reasons to stay. “Did you have a nice nap? Sorry

about the headache. A little chamomile soother will work

wonders on that. Shall I go fetch some for you from a

cart?”

“I knew you would return.” He didn’t try to club me

over the head or grab me, but put his knuckles under

my chin to tip up my face. “Mortal love makes you this

foolish. But even if you could dispossess me, woman, the

spirit of your man will not return to this body.”

“I know.” And I was a fool for thinking I could do

this.Someone groaned, and I heard the door of the way

station rattle. “You out there. I can’t get out. Help me.”

“I see.” Zarath ignored Montrose Walsh’s squealing

as he stroked my cheek with his fi ngertips. “You came to

prevent me from casting the spell. Th at will not happen.

You may watch instead. In a few moments, you and every

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mortal in this city will belong to me.”

I turned my face away. “Not if I break the spell fi rst.”

“It is not one spell, foolish child. It is thousands upon

thousands. Once it is released, not even I could stop it.”

Th e scarlet symbols on the black club began to glow. “But

I shall use it to send you into a waking dream, where you

will know every time I take my pleasure of your pain and

your fl esh, where you can do nothing but feel it.”

“How delightful.” I shuffl ed back and reached behind

me for the way station’s door latch, and from it removed

the iron rail tie I’d used to keep Montrose imprisoned

inside. “I can’t fathom why everyone fi nds you so utterly

repulsive,” I mentioned as I pocketed the spike. “I mean,

other than the way you talk, behave, think, and smell,

you’re quite the catch, aren’t you?”

He grabbed hold of my bodice, tearing it as he jerked

me close. “Open your mouth.”

“Go back to hell.” I spat in his face.

He took hold of my throat with one hand and cut

off my air, and no matter how I clawed at him, kept

strangling me. Shadows loomed before my eyes, inviting

me to throw myself into them. Looking into death was

such a terrible relief that I gasped.

Zarath’s hand clapped over my mouth at the same time

he released my neck, and the need to breathe overcame

everything. I didn’t realize he had shoved a stone into my

mouth until it slid to the back of my tongue and went

down my throat. It burned my insides as it went down,

and I fought to stop it, coughing and retching violently.

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Nothing came out, and then I felt it in my stomach, hot

and cold, an unbearable weight.

Zarath put his mouth next to my ear. “Do you feel

her? Th at is my queen, Anamorg. She is inside you now,

and she will keep you from breaking any spell. I have only

to release her from the stone, and your body will be hers.

Th en Anamorg will devour your spirit, and you will be

nothing.”

“Not a very pretty name, is it? Anamorg.” I rasped

out the words as I reached in my pocket for the rail tie.

“Sounds to me like a disease of the bottom.”

His expression tightened with outrage. “For that I wil

make you know agony as you could not imagine.”

“Sorry, but it’s my turn now.” I threw myself against

him, knocking him down on his back. I had only a

moment to straddle him, raise the iron spike I’d taken

from the door handle of the way station, and strike.

I thought I might hesitate, staring down at Dredmore’s

face, knowing what I was about to do. Yet my hand never

wavered or faltered, and I plunged the spike deep into his

chest, thrusting it down with all my strength.

Zarath heaved me off , clutching the end of the spike

as he convulsed. He rolled onto his side, curling over

before he lurched onto all fours. His head came up and

he roared out his pain and fury until the sound died and

a bloody froth bubbled from his lips. I backed away into

Montrose, who stood gaping at the sight.

“What have you done?” he yelped.

Zarath staggered onto his feet, pulling at the spike as

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obscenely wet sounds poured out along with the blood

from his mouth.

“I killed a monster.” I couldn’t bear to see him die,

but I couldn’t look away until I was sure he had. “And I

saved a man.”

Th e Aramanthan reeled toward the ship, but he

strayed too close to the edge of the dock, where he fell

into the water with a tremendous splash.

Celestino, who had run toward us, stopped in his

tracks. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed

like a rag doll. I saw the other men by the gangplank do

the same, and then Montrose fell in front of me, face-fi rst into the dock.

I knelt on the edge of the pier, shoving my fi ngers

deep into my mouth so that I might cast up the stone, but

it wouldn’t come out of me. Th e sensation of burning and

freezing faded, leaving me with only the feeling of a rock

in my belly. Anamorg, queen of the Reapers, waiting to

awake inside me.

“Miss Kittredge.”

I turned my head and saw Inspector Doyle standing a

few feet away. “Oh, hello, Tommy.” Two beaters fl anked

him, and each held their nightsticks ready. “Filthy day,

isn’t it? All this smoke is plaguing my eyes something

awful.”

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