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Wicked as They Come

Page 52

   



Mine, I thought.
Something nudged me from behind, and one of the old ladies cried, “Pardon me, sir!” and cast a vicious glare at one of the young men, adding, “If you’re going to go smacking people with your stick, you’d best learn some manners.”
The young man stared at his pool cue in confusion and apologized. I had to be more careful, before someone really bumped into me and caused a ruckus.
I held up my skirts and tiptoed around Tabitha until my back was to the wall behind her. I could see Rafael by the bookcase watching her around the woman’s towering white beehive, his old man’s brow furrowed in worry. Then he looked frantically around the room, searching for me even though I was invisible.
I flattened myself against the wall as a Bludman pushed past to join Tabitha’s circle of admirers. I couldn’t help but breathe the air in his wake. Yuck. Old-man breath, with an overpowering stench of blood—even worse than Tabitha. No wonder Emerlie thought Bludmen smelled bad.
Tabitha was laughing now, and I could see the chain around the back of her neck, tangling in the loose hairs of her updo. Every fiber of my being yearned to tackle her and rip the locket off and run with it, but I knew that would be a disaster. I just had to stay close and follow her when she left the party. Still, the necklace drew me, and as much as I hated her, I couldn’t help creeping closer and closer until I was near enough to touch the glinting gold.
The door behind us opened, and the busy clerk ushered in a new couple. A gust of air rushed in behind them as the door slammed shut, and my skirts whooshed around me. Tabitha stiffened, and before I could react, she spun around and raked the air with her gloves. I tried to leap backward, but it was too late. Her hands clutched the ruffles on my dress, and she shrieked in triumph.
“I’ve got her!” she called. “Party’s over!”
Master Holofernes leaped up like a much younger man and wrestled with my invisible form, pinning my arms behind my back. I couldn’t see Criminy, but I hoped he was already safely hidden and planning my rescue.
I struggled, stomping hard on the boot of Master Holofernes. A young man’s voice screeched from his mouth, “She kicked me! The Bludhoney kicked me, Tab!” And then he cuffed me so hard I saw stars. I guessed Criminy wasn’t the only magician in town who could craft a disguising spell.
“I’ve got the other. It’s our new Mr. Fester!” cried the talkative clerk from somewhere out of my sight.
The bitch, it seemed, had won.
Back in our room, we watched two Coppers toss our bed and rummage through Criminy’s sack, which held nothing but spare clothes and a few vials of blood. I wondered if any of them were mine.
Criminy stood proudly between two more Coppers, still wearing his Rafael disguise, his old man’s arms pinned tightly behind his back. I was held likewise. They apparently hadn’t invented handcuffs in this world. Outside, the storm raged, the heavy clouds finally unleashing their tempest.
Looking in my general direction, Rafael flicked his tongue out at me. It seemed a strange time to be rude, and I returned the gesture before remembering that he couldn’t see me. Then he did it again, more slowly. Like a snake.
Aha! I had forgotten Uro around my wrist. The Coppers holding my arms probably didn’t know that I had my own invisible clockwork protector. I felt along the bracelet and pressed the head scale. At that moment, another Copper joined us, carrying a thin, coiled rope over one arm.
Drat.
Tabitha looked up from her rifling to hiss, “Well? Tie them, idiot.”
Rafael’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the rope, but Tabitha laughed and said, “You escape, she dies. I’ll drain her myself.”
That was enough to keep him still with fury as they bound his arms. In addition to being a magician, I hoped he was an escape artist, because I was starting to form a plan. But I didn’t know if I could save us both.
The Copper with the rope moved toward me next, looking confused. How, exactly, does one tie up an invisible woman? But he could see where his comrade held my arms, so he aimed for those. I held the uncoiled snake, waiting. The timing had to be just right; he couldn’t know what I was doing.
“You’re about to feel my bite,” I said calmly, but I put a particular emphasis on certain words.
What I’d actually said was “URO bout to feel my BITE.”
It sounded ridiculous, but it worked. The little snake struck, cold and hard and quick. I caught him as the bitten Copper screamed and started dancing around and swatting the air.
The other two Coppers turned their attention to his bizarre behavior. I jerked my arms loose and lunged at Tabitha, who was just turning around in irritation. After snatching the locket off over her head, I ran for the door, flinging it open and running for the stairs. I heard tumult behind me, and I imagined that Criminy was doing everything in his power to hinder pursuit.
“After her, bloodbags!” Tabitha shouted.
I heard violent retching in the hall as I slipped on the landing and pounded down the stairs. Looks like I owe Vil further thanks.
I shot out through the front door into the driving storm. The street was empty, and I turned left and ran as fast as I could without looking back, the visible locket floating in midair as my boots slipped on the rain-wet cobblestones. Criminy had warned me that only things touching me when the spell was cast would be invisible, and the locket was no exception.
I was soon panting but didn’t slow down. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew that I had to get out of Darkside and into a relatively safer area for humans. And then, of course, I had to avoid the bludrats. Judging by my glances at the caravan, that would be no mean feat.
Whenever I came to a bigger crossroad, I turned, angling ever upward with my eyes on Goodwill’s church. I soon found myself in a wealthy residential area of the Pinky part of the city, the fine homes locked up tight for the night. I read the store signs as I passed, hoping for inspiration but thinking on a very animal level. Escape. Run. Live.
Then a sign caught my eye: For Sale. The narrow town house from which it hung was dark and quiet. I stopped. The street was empty, the sky perilous, the lightning crashing. The rain bounced off me like vindictive gumdrops. I was soaked to the bone.
I looked up and down the street. Every single home had at least one light in a window and a lit gas lamp outside the front door. The For Sale house was utterly dark. I put my ear to the door and heard nothing within.
I held my wrist up to the keyhole and said, “Uro, unlock,” hoping it would work for me just as it had for Criminy in the lighthouse. I couldn’t see what the invisible snake was doing, but I heard a metallic clunk. When I tried the doorknob, it opened. I stole inside and locked the door behind me.
The garish colors were shrouded in darkness, the mosaic fountain empty. Furniture wrapped in white sheets lurked throughout. But it was dry and quiet, and I was alone. I took the grand staircase up to the second level and dripped into the master bedroom, where a heavy four-poster bed waited under a canopy of spiderwebs. I thought about unlacing my boots and getting undressed, but I was too exhausted. Plus, if someone showed up, I’d have to run again, and I didn’t want to run barefoot or naked in Sang.
I dragged myself onto the bed and lay down on the white sheet, feeling aches that I had never felt before. I had walked more in the last few days than in my entire previous life, and I had magically aged five years. Or maybe more. But it wasn’t only sleep I was after. Now that I had my locket around my neck, I wanted to go home.
I slipped Uro off my wrist and set him on a sheet-covered side table. I said, “Uro, guard,” and listened to the sound of my invisible bracelet contorting into a tripod. I was almost too excited to close my eyes as I curled on my side, holding the locket against my heart.
I stroked my thumb over the ruby and smiled. “I’ll come back, Criminy,” I said.
As I drifted off to sleep, I had a vision of Nana and me sitting at her table in the bright morning sunlight, eating waffles and laughing.
33
Like a kid at Christmas, I wasn’t ready to open my eyes yet. I could sense the darkness, but I wanted to savor it, enjoy the delicious comfort and joy of my own bed, or at least a hospital bed. But no—I had to be home. The bed was soft, and there was a weight on the mattress next to me. I stretched and reached a hand out to pat Mr. Surly.
But the thing under my hand wasn’t my silky-furred house cat.
It was hairy and prickly, and it hissed at me.
I screeched and smacked the bludrat off the bed, then heard the satisfying pop as it hit the wall.
I groped for Uro on the nightstand. When I finally found him, he was toppled over, broken, a tangle of jagged metal and wires. They’d killed my clockwork, the bastards.
Those bludrats were smarter than they looked.
A crack of lightning lit up a roomful of small eyes focused on me, red and hungry. Perched on the sheet-covered furniture, crouching on the dusty floor, writhing up the posts and canopy of the bed. They couldn’t see me, but they could smell me. They knew I was there, and they knew what they wanted to do with me. I guessed Criminy’s icky powder had finally worn off.
Another one scrambled onto the bed and chittered, and I kicked it with the heel of my boot. The others grew bolder and started to creep forward. I had to get out before they started swarming. I stood up and ran out the door and down the stairs. Behind me, dozens of sharp claws scrabbled on the mosaic floors as red, furry bodies thumped down the stairs.
I burst through the front door into the cool, damp world of early morning. Slamming the door behind me, I heard their bodies strike the wood. Their claws scritched against it, and then I heard one start to gnaw. I shuddered and kicked the door.
I jogged uphill toward the church, my wet skirts dragging through the puddles. I needed to get off the streets before the early risers noticed a floating locket. A useless floating locket that was either damaged or a clever forgery. As I walked, I pressed the stone to pop the locket open. Inside, where Criminy’s face should have been, there was a carefully folded piece of parchment.
Magistrate Jonah Goodwill of Eden House looks forward to seeing you again, said the elegant script.