Susan Dennard - A Darkness Strange and Lovely

Joseph’s mouth opened, but I surged on before he could fling out any more unwarranted accusations. “Both of you are running around chasing your tails and attending parties and salons while les Morts run free. While an amulet with seventy-three compulsion spells hides somewhere, waiting to be detonated. While Jie is missing! And while Marcus could be here any blasted moment. The Spirit-

Hunters are an ineffective joke.” I pounded my chest. “But I have power, and I intend to use it.”

Before Joseph or Daniel could answer, I spun around and knelt beside the still-unconscious Laure.

“Ollie, can you lift her? She’s small.”

“I can manage,” he answered, crouching beside me. Together we hefted the woman into his arms.

“We will take her to the lobby and call for a doctor,” I said as we trudged past the Spirit-Hunters toward the stairs. But I barely made it two steps before Joseph’s voice rang out.

“Stop. I cannot let you go free.”

Oliver and I paused, but I nudged the demon to keep going. Then I pivoted around and advanced on

Joseph. “And what will you do to me? Blast me to pieces like one of the Dead?” I spun to Daniel.

“Shoot me?”

“If we have to,” Joseph answered quietly, “then yes.”

“Well, you do not have to because I am not your threat. You know me, Joseph. Daniel.” My gaze darted between them. “All I want to do is search for Jie, and after I find her I will leave Paris—leave you—for good.” I pushed out my chest, pumping all the assertion and command I could muster into my words. “I am not a threat to you—not unless you try to stop me. If you get in my way, then this”—

I motioned to the corpses—“will seem like child’s play.”

Without waiting for a reply, I marched after Oliver, and together we descended.

It was a bluff. I couldn’t fight Joseph. Oliver and I could barely carry Laure down the stairs, much less use any more magic. But it didn’t mean I wouldn’t fight Joseph if he got in my way.

The truth was, despite my exhaustion, I felt ablaze with potential. I would finally do something. I would find Jie and stop Marcus.

“Are you . . . all right?” Oliver asked between gasps for air, his cheeks bright pink.

We were passing my floor. Tufts of putrid fur and feathers littered the carpet, only broken up by brown bloodstains or by mounds of rotting corpses. And every so often, a dazed hotel guest gawping at the disaster. It was a replica of the top floor—as was every floor in the hotel.

“I am . . . fine,” I answered, panting. Laure was a small woman, but Oliver and I had no energy left. We rounded a bend in the stairs, and the dull roar of a distant crowd hit my ears. It must be all the guests—they must have gone downstairs.

“That . . . didn’t go well.” He slowed and shifted his grip beneath Laure. “With . . . the Spirit-

Hunters, I mean.”

“It went how we thought it would go.”

“And you’re not . . . sad?” Oliver pressed.

“No,” I said stoutly as we trekked past the Spirit-Hunters’ lab and the sounds from below grew louder, nearer. I wasn’t sad. Not at all.

“That’s the magic, you know.” Oliver spoke the words carefully, watching me for a reaction.

“When the power wears off, you will feel this.”

I wiped my face on my shoulder, but the movement was sloppy . . . and I realized I was shaking.

We were almost to the foyer, and the frantic cries of all the guests were now thunderous; but it wasn’t the noise that tremored through me. I was keyed up on magic.

And that meant that Oliver was right. When this passed, I would probably feel a great deal of guilt over Laure, over the Spirit-Hunters, and over all the damage I had caused. But for now I did not. All I cared about was finding Jie.

And, I thought, anticipation warming my blood anew, if the magic begins to wear off, I can always use more. . . .

Most of the hotel’s patrons had taken refuge in the restaurant. Everyone was a disaster—clothes torn, eyes wide with shock, and skin coated in bits of animal corpses. No one even noticed Laure and me, and while I dealt with her slowly rousing form, Oliver had his eye out for the Spirit-Hunters.

It was all going surprisingly well. We had called for a doctor to tend to Laure—not that she had any injuries to tend—and she seemed to have no memory of what had happened. She thought she had fainted, and she was in a happy buzz from Oliver’s magic.

But then Laure noticed the blood on her dress, and the panic set in. “Qu’est que c’est? Qu’est que c’est?” she breathed over and over again. “It is blood, non? Mais comment? How, Eleanor, how?”

I grabbed her hands and forced her to look at me. “Listen, Laure: it’s not your blood. It’s mine.”

This was perhaps a poor response, because although she stopped her frantic questions, she now looked incredibly suspicious.

“Your blood?” Her lids lowered slightly. “But you are not even hurt.”

“I’m not?” I glanced down, and for the first time I realized the state I was in. My sleeves and skirts were ripped to shreds; my hair hung in thick, crusted clumps before my face; and my arms were covered in jellied animal blood. Yet the skin beneath was as smooth and perfect as Laure’s.

Oliver had not only healed the young woman.

So I wound up telling her the truth. “It was magic, Laure. We . . . we were both attacked by the

Dead, and I healed us.”

Her brow furrowed. “Magic. You healed me with magic?”

I nodded wearily. “I am afraid there’s much more to it.” I glanced at the restaurant’s entrance.

Oliver was motioning to me—the doctor had arrived. I turned back to Laure. “But I cannot tell you everything now. And your doctor is here.”

She pushed to her feet, the picture of vitality. “I do not need one. I shall call a cab and return to my friend’s house. However”—she leaned close, her eyes boring into mine—“I expect to hear the whole story tomorrow, Eleanor. I will call on you. We have plans for breakfast, non? So tomorrow morning before I leave for Marseille, I will return.”

“Fair enough,” I murmured.

After walking with her to get a carriage, I returned to the crowded foyer to search for Oliver.

Sometime in the last hour of hell, I had decided I would turn to the demon for help finding Jie. I had been willing to give him my letters—had decided I could rely on him—until he’d ruined my moment with Daniel and my temper had clouded everything. No, perhaps I would never trust the demon completely, but he at least deserved my respect. He had saved my life and Laure’s. . . .

Besides, he was all I had left now.

“Mademoiselle Fitt!”

I paused, searching for who had called me. “Mademoiselle Fitt!” The Marquis’s dark hair and oily mustache appeared nearby, and he pushed through the throngs to finally pop out directly in front of me. “Mon Dieu, are you hurt?” His eyes ran over my destroyed gown.

“I’m not hurt.” I tried to smile, but I found I was too distracted by all the panicked people closing in. What if the Spirit-Hunters were here? What if I missed Oliver?

As if sensing my distress, the Marquis took my elbow and guided me through the people to the relative calm of the stairs.

“I heard les Morts were here,” he said, breathing heavily and leaning on his cane. “I came immediately! C’est horrible—très, très horrible!”

I nodded, unsure what he wanted from me, and turned my gaze back to the crowds.

“I cannot find zee Spirit-Hunters,” the Marquis went on. “I went to zee lab, but it is empty. Are zey hurt?”

“Uh . . .” I glanced at him just as he set his cane against the wall.

And suddenly I found I could do nothing but stare at it. The handle had changed shape again—I was sure of it. Now all five craggy fingers were curled inward into a fist . . . a fist that would fit perfectly into my hand. . . .

I wet my lips, unable to look away. All I wanted to do was touch the ivory. Feel the grooved carvings, see how the ivory could form such a realistic human hand. And above all, how it could change its shape.

“Mademoiselle?”

I started and jerked my gaze to the Marquis’s face. “Pardon me? Wh-what did you ask?”

“Are zee Spirit-Hunters hurt?”

“Oh, um, no.” I blinked quickly and tried to clear my head. “I-I believe they are fine.”

“Dieu merci, Dieu merci.” LeJeunes pressed his hands together as if praying. “I was so, eh . . . so worried when I could not find zem. Do you know where zey are?”

My eyes flicked to the cane and then back to the Marquis’s worried face. “They must be somewhere in the hotel, sir, for I saw them not too long ago.”

“And zey will still be attending zee ball tonight?”

“Ball?” My eyebrows shot up. Yet again I had completely forgotten about the ball—not that it really mattered. It was hardly something I would be attending now. “I do not know, but I would assume they will still go. Although . . .”

“Oui?”

“One of the members is missing.” I bit my lip. “Jie Chen—the Chinese girl. She has been missing since yesterday.”

The Marquis nodded. “It is very bad. Monsieur Boyer asked for extra men on his patrol force. I gave zem to him gladly. Gave him zee best inspectors we have.”

“Oh.” My brow knit. Perhaps Daniel and Joseph were not as unconcerned for Jie’s safety as I had thought. “And have these inspectors found anything?”

“Non.” LeJeunes wagged his head, almost sadly. “Zey have not . . . how do you say? Have not found any clues. But zey are looking—and will continue to look until zey find Mademoiselle Chen.

But listen.” He bowed toward me, peering at me from the tops of his eyes. “It is impératif zat

Messieurs Boyer and Sheridan come tonight. All of zee other senators will be in attendance—over seventy men and families—and despite zee missing mademoiselle, a public appearance such as a ball is vital to zee Spirit-Hunters’ continued support. And to my own continued support for zee election.”

I found myself nodding in an almost emphatic agreement. Madame Marineaux had said the same thing, had she not?

“Très bien—I am glad you understand, Mademoiselle Fitt. You must tell zem zis, oui? Tell

Messieurs Boyer and Sheridan what I have told you.”

“Perhaps you should tell them—”

“Non, non. I will let you tell zem. It is better. Zey like you. Zey listen to you.”

Not anymore, I thought. But I bobbed a polite curtsy, hoping LeJeunes would interpret it as compliance.