Familiar dark boots paused at Simon and Kate. The magician muttered a word with stiff lips and the shimmering shield fell away like water.
“Are you alive?” Malcolm crouched next to them, his pistol aimed at the far door, his hand resting on Simon’s shoulder.
Simon could only nod.
When Malcolm started to give chase, Kate cautioned, “Stop! Barnes is dangerous. He’s a necromancer. We’re not ready to face him here. We must withdraw.”
Malcolm grunted in disappointment but reached down to pull Simon to his unsteady feet with Kate’s help. The Scotsman locked eyes on the two women covered in amber. He shivered in recognition. “God help us. Is that Madeleine Hawley?”
“Yes,” Kate said. “And Cecilia de Ronay.”
“And both of their portraits are in the cellar,” Malcolm said.
Simon grinned in a strange vicious way. “So he kills them, stitches them up, and reanimates them.”
“I’m going to be sick,” Kate muttered.
They went to the window and Kate was relieved when Simon was able to throw a leg over the sill. Heavy footsteps were heard in the hallway and he began to clamber back in, intent on a fight.
“Don’t you dare!” she told him.
Malcolm forced Simon out the window, holding him by the arm. “Is there a fish wagon still below?”
Before Kate could answer, Malcolm released him. Simon dropped onto a mound of shining fish and toppled to the street in a landslide of herring. Kate jumped down after him, scowling at the smell and the slime. Malcolm landed just behind and vaulted off the wagon.
Simon took Kate’s shoulder for balance with a hand smeared in paint that mimicked Kate’s skin tone.
“Come on,” insisted Malcolm. “We need to leave. Now.”
A large man filled the window above and glared at the three figures below, who were surrounded by fish. Malcolm raised the pistol and fired. The ball struck the man in the chest and smashed him back inside the room.
“Malcolm!” Simon gasped, grabbing his gun arm. “You’ve killed that man! He’s an innocent in this.”
Malcolm began to pull Simon down the street as the fishmonger screamed at them. “He’s not innocent. And I didn’t kill him.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because I already killed him in the alley earlier.”
Chapter 17
Kate gave a quick rap on Simon’s bedroom door at Gaunt Lane and entered. Simon stood in a shaft of morning sun. He reached for a shirt as he saw Kate’s form appear. His tattoos were dark shadows against his pale skin. They entwined along his muscled back and across his broad shoulders, reaching down to his strong forearms. She stopped, bemused, as he slipped into a shirt.
“Sorry,” she said without conviction and with a touch of suspicion. “Did you actually throw on a shirt out of modesty?”
“There is such a thing as decorum.” The shirttail hung below his waistband, with his braces dangling lower. He was in his stocking feet still.
“Think of me as a physician.” She smirked as he ran a hasty hand through his pleasantly disheveled sleek raven hair. “However, I could fetch a chaperone.”
“A man’s bedroom is sacred. You may see things you’d rather not.”
“How terrifying.” Kate picked up his razor from the marble-top basin. It was still warm and damp from shaving. She found the worn heft of the ivory handle comforting.
“You have been warned.” Simon wiped his face with a small towel. “I’m sorry if I leapt in too soon at the Red Orchid. I suspect you were close to securing information from Barnes, but when I saw those two women, I had to act.”
“I understand. I don’t know how much Barnes would have actually told me.” Kate set down the razor. “I assumed you were lurking in the hall. How exactly were you outside the window? Can you fly?”
Simon smiled.
Kate waited, but he said no more about it. She idly took the towel from him and folded it onto the rack next to the basin. “God help me, but I keep thinking we should just go to the Red Orchid today and level the place.”
“I do as well, but Barnes is no fool, in addition to being a powerful magician. He surrounds himself with innocents so any enemies with a moral compass, such as ourselves, must hesitate before launching an attack.”
“I know.” Kate handed Simon his hairbrush with a slight smile, enjoying the brief moment of domesticity. Watching a man prepare himself was a rare glimpse into a secret world, and she found it oddly appealing. He proceeded to brush his hair with slow, measured strokes. Then he slowly tucked his shirt into his waistband and struggled to lift the braces over his shoulders with a painful breath.
Kate came forward and adjusted the braces for him. “Perhaps I should examine you.”