"They're already home. I checked. That's why I woke you."

"To warn them," I finished for him. The cold dampness seeped through my clothing to my skin, all the way to the bone.

I started to run.

Jacob easily kept up but the candle extinguished. He tossed it away. I would have taken several wrong turns in the soupy miasma if it hadn't been for him guiding me. We half walked, half ran and reached Belgrave Square quickly.

At first I thought the house was silent, safe, but then I heard it.

A scream. High, nerve splitting, and filled with terror.

"Adelaide!" Jacob disappeared.

Lights came on inside the house. Adelaide screamed again. Another, higher scream joined hers-Lady Preston's?

Oh God oh God oh God. I raced down the stairs and banged on the servants' door, praying someone was in the service area, hoping they heard me.

"Open-!" A hand clamped over my mouth, stifling my shout. I was wrenched back up the stairs to street level, my attacker dragging me. My heels scraped against the stone steps as I tried to stand. Then I was shoved against the wall of the house. My head hit the stucco and a jolt of pain ripped through my skull. The night turned blacker for a moment but I fought against the fog trying to cloud my brain. Someone held me upright with an iron-clawed grip, stopping me from sliding to the ground.

My vision cleared. A face loomed over me like a moon in the murky night. I didn't recognize it but it was familiar nevertheless. He had the same drooping eyes and small mouth as Maree Finch.

Tommy.

"Let me go," I said. "Please."

Finch laughed, baring two rows of crooked teeth like old headstones. "Who's gonna make me? You?" He leaned in, his wide, white face close to mine. His breath, hair and his very skin reeked of ale and cigar smoke, sweat and something worse. I retched. That only made him laugh harder. "This the girl who can see ghosts, eh?" Was he talking to me or someone else? I tried to look past him but he was too big and the night too dark. "Looks like a mad thing." He sniffed my hair. And he thought I was the mad one.

Suddenly the sound of glass shattering filled the air. Finch pulled back, glanced up. "Christ," he muttered.

I followed his gaze just in time to see Jacob and a man dressed in servant's livery of scarlet breeches and coat falling from a high window. They were locked in battle and they fell together amidst a shower of glass, hurtling towards the footpath.




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