“Something’s wrong. Please stay here.” He turned and, without another word, pushed through the crowd. Mystified, I called his name as I ran after him. We returned to the alley just outside Hargrove’s. That was when I saw them.
Rook was locked in a struggle with two men dressed all in black. One of them had an arm around Rook’s throat. He kicked out at the other attacker, striking him hard in the chest.
In an instant, I’d readied a blade. Blackwood followed my example, and together we ran toward the fight. Rook’s face twisted in terror.
“Nettie!” he cried. At first I thought it was a call for help, but he put up his hand, a gesture intended to stop me. “No!”
The darkness rushed in from the walls and the crevices. Rook and the two men disappeared behind a veil of shadow. Blackwood and I stood helpless before the void. I could see nothing, but I heard the men’s terrified cries.
“What the devil?” Blackwood breathed. I panicked. He couldn’t know about Rook’s powers, not yet. Hating myself, I collected my ward’s invisible force and threw it at Blackwood. A great blast of energy knocked him against a wall, and he slid to the ground. Checking quickly, I found him unconscious but breathing. I prayed I hadn’t truly hurt him, then ran toward the attackers.
The covering of darkness pulsed before me. Inside, the men’s voices began to fade. I reached out a hand to pierce the shadow but drew back in fear. Something was different and awful about this blackness.
“Let them go!” I cried. “Can you hear me? Rook!” I flung a layer of fire over the writhing mass. The shadow patch dissolved, revealing the three men lying on the ground. None of them moved. Rook was curled on his side.
“Rook, are you all right?” Terrified, I knelt next to him.
Rook lunged at me. His eyes gleamed black. There was nothing human in that look. He gripped my arms and threw me to the ground. My head struck the earth, and I grasped for Porridge. If Rook attacked again, he’d face a spell.
But the attack didn’t come. I waited in fearful silence until I heard him whisper, “Nettie, what did I do?” Slowly, I got up and crawled around to face him. His eyes were their normal blue. His expression was one of horror. “Did I touch you?”
The men on the ground drew my attention. One of them sobbed and shivered, as though he were cold. The other lay flat on his back, staring blankly at the sky above.
“Get up,” I said, trying to sound commanding. The crying fellow hastened to his feet, pointing at me in terror.
“Stay away!” he yelled, and helped his companion stand. The quiet man moved as he was bid but didn’t seem terribly aware of his surroundings.
“What were you doing?” I held up my blade, though I wasn’t so forceful. We were all too terrified for shows of bravado.
“Stay away!” the man cried again, and the two ran down the alley. Rook pulled me to the ground as I tried to go after them.
“Don’t. It’s what they want,” Rook gasped, holding me back.
“But they attacked you.”
“Wasn’t me they were after. They grabbed me when they couldn’t snatch their true mark. Anyone could see that.”
“What?” And then I realized that Rook had been walking with me. Cellini himself had said others would attack. “Oh God.”
“I don’t think they’ll be back.” Rook rubbed his eyes. “I scared them off.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“No.” He shuddered. “I hurt you. How could I have done that?”
“You didn’t know it was me.”
“Exactly. We couldn’t tell you from the others.”
Now I was truly afraid. “We?”
“The voice in the dark whispered…” He stopped. Horrified, he looked at the scars along his left arm. “I’m a freak.”
“We have to speak with Fenswick about this.”
“No. I don’t want anyone else to know,” Rook grunted. He pulled away and went to Blackwood, who was beginning to awaken. We couldn’t argue now, so I bit my tongue and joined them. Rook helped the sorcerer sit up. Groaning, Blackwood rubbed the back of his head.
“What on earth happened?”
“I tried throwing force at the men but lost control and hit you instead. I’m so sorry.” My apology was sincere, which lent credibility to my lie. “They got away.”
“I thought I saw…” Blackwood paused as he studied Rook. He shook his head. “Probably hit my head too hard.”
To change the topic, I said, “Thank God you sensed something. Who could they have been?”
“London’s full of dangerous men,” Blackwood muttered. “This is why you must never leave the ward again without a companion.”
We helped him to his feet and let him lean on us both as we shuffled toward home.
Once we were inside, Agrippa and the housekeeper fussed over Blackwood. Rook seized the opportunity to slip away.
Soon as I could, I ran up the stairs to the servants’ corridor and knocked on his door.
“Rook. Please let me in.”
After my third round of knocking, he said, “I don’t trust myself, Nettie. You must stay away.” His voice sounded strained, as though he was lifting something. Or, perhaps, holding something at bay.
I pressed my palms against the wood. I wanted to claw my way through. “I’d feel so much better if I could see you.”
“I want to let you in,” he groaned. I heard him move farther away from the door. “But I can’t.”
“The ball’s the day after tomorrow. All you need to do is hold on till then. All right?”
“Yes.” His voice was so, so faint.
Only a few more days. Rook could hold on. He would.
He had to.
Lilly helped me into a crimson gown, an outfit I’d not yet worn. I was determined to enjoy this night. Rook was secure in his room, excused from work on account of the afternoon’s attack. That was a comfort; my nerves were raw.
“First time at the theater.” Lilly sighed. “You’ll need something ever so special.” She showed me a paper bundle. “For your hair, miss. From the garden.” They were several red roses, the perfect color of my dress. We de-thorned the flowers and inserted them in my hair where they might stay. When I turned for her, Lilly clapped. “Beautiful!”
I went downstairs, following the sound of the boys’ voices and laughter. When I appeared, everyone fell silent. Dee grinned. Even Lambe and Wolff gave me an appreciative nod. But I felt Magnus’s eyes on me from the moment I came down.
“Shall we?” he murmured, offering his arm.
The carriages dropped us at the theater, directly into a cluster of fashionable people. We entered the red velvet foyer. High mirrors in gilded frames reflected the crowd, giving the impression of a churning sea alive with faces and conversation. Burnished candelabra illuminated murals of pink-and-white ladies seated atop fluffy clouds, playing lyres and surrounded by winged cherubs. We looked about until we found Blackwood and Eliza. The instant she spotted me, she kissed me on both cheeks and took my hands.
“I’m so glad you’ve come. I wanted to show you this particular cut of gown. Do you like it?” She did a full turn for my benefit, charming in an emerald-green dress with puffed sleeves. She fluttered her black lace fan.
“It’s lovely.”
“I told Madame Voltiana to make its style into an especial cut for your commendation, since it’s so fashionable. Do you plan on drinking any champagne tonight? George won’t even let me try it,” she said, tapping her brother’s arm with her fan. He shook his head and smiled. His sister was the only person on earth who could remove his stoic facade.
“I’ve never tasted it before, actually.”
“There! You see, George? If Henrietta gets champagne tonight, then so do I, and don’t tell me I can’t,” she said.
Magnus approached us. Eliza smiled and held out her gloved hand in a rather theatrical gesture. “Hello, Mr. Magnus. It’s been so long since we last met.” She batted her eyelashes.
“My dear,” Magnus said, kissing her fingers. “You’ve grown even lovelier. I didn’t think it was possible.” He bowed deeply as she giggled and fluttered her fan. God, they deserved each other. Blackwood cleared his throat and drew Magnus away.