“And they don’t breed many magicians there. At least not that I know of,” Mina agreed. “I just sort of fell into things here.”
“You’ll have to fall into a few more,” said Mrs. Baldwin. “You’ve been a help with the chores already, but we’ll all have to take on more—”
“—and so will the gentlemen,” Mina said firmly. “Or at least S—Lord MacAlasdair. I don’t know if we can convince his brother, especially as Master Colin’s got a broken arm. But if one of them doesn’t come and work down here, they can send out for their meals and pay for it. With that and the four of us, we’ll survive.”
Then she remembered the manes reaching for her and the gashes in the pantry door, and wished she’d come up with another way to phrase things.
Thirty-five
Two days later, Colin was sitting up and talking. Stephen joked that it would take more than a demon to keep him silent for long. His arm was healing slowly, though, almost as slowly as a purely mortal man’s would have. Stephen, as part of his share of the household work, brought trays up to his brother’s room, though Colin said he would have preferred someone more attractive and less related. Because of the broken arm, Stephen let that remark pass.
He had his own tea with Colin as well, keeping his brother company and trying to figure out the next steps of the conflict with Ward.
“If he doesn’t live in the Brick Lane place,” said Stephen, “he’ll at least have left a few traces there, perhaps. Though I’d need to find a way in, and one that wouldn’t get the bastard’s attention.”
“The first is easy enough,” Colin said around bites of muffin. “Find whoever owns the building and persuade him to let you borrow the master key. They’re bound to have one. And if the building’s in Brick Lane, a tenner should do it. Maybe a bit more if the gentleman seems inclined to ask questions.”
“From the sound of it, you’ve done this before,” said Stephen.
Colin shrugged with one shoulder, which made him look even more indolent than usual. “Not underthesecircumstances. A friend had some letters he wanted back, and I volunteered, being the generous—”
“If you say ‘paragon of virtue,’ I’ll pour the tea out into your lap.”
“I thought I’d go with ‘warmhearted soul,’ as a matter of fact. Variety and whatnot. And if you’re just going to toy with that kipper, you may as well give it to a man who appreciates good food. It must be Mrs. Baldwin’s day to cook.”
“Polly’s, I think,” said Stephen.
“Really? The girl’s a wonder. You do have a talent for discovering staff.”
“Makes up for my lack of choice in relations.” Stephen smiled quickly, then settled down to consider Colin’s suggestion. Discovering a building’s owner wouldn’t present any great difficulty, only wading through a bit of bureaucracy and perhaps providing enough money to grease any particularly stubborn wheels. “And if we can’t,” he thought aloud, “or if Ward turns out to own the place—”
“Then there are a few less legal methods we can manage. You might as well be honest first, though. You don’t have the face for a scoundrel.”
“You’re just worried I’d be better at deception than you.”
“Never.”
Stephen drummed his fingers on the table. “Unless getting the key takes far longer than it should,” he said, eyeing his brother’s arm and the still-white look of his face, “you’ll be staying here. You’ll be no good at tiptoeing about and picking locks, not like this. I’ll need a set of eyes here at any rate, and ideally one familiar with magic.”
“Nice of you to try and make me feel useful,” said Colin, “but I’m quite happy to be idle and ornamental. Still, I’ll keep a lookout. What about your Miss Seymour? Are you planning to leave her here and risk the wards?”
“No,” Stephen said. “She knows that part of town better than I do, and she’s good with a bluff if need be. I think it’d be best if I didn’t end the evening in jail or with my name in the paper. Besides, a human—and someone who knows London—might spot something neither of us would.”
“You’re just repeating what she told you, aren’t you?” Colin smirked.
“You’re a remarkably unpleasant wee churl,” said Stephen, and confiscated a muffin by way of vengeance.
“You’re insulting an injured man, and you haven’t denied the charges.”
He hadn’t. He couldn’t. Five minutes with Mina’s ruthless logic and hard eyes, and Stephen had known a lost battle. He also hadn’t wanted to stay and see where the fight would lead.
Well, he had wanted to. That was the problem.
“She says she’ll keep well out of danger,” he said, “and that having two people along is better in case one of us needs to go and get help.”
“You’ll be able to send me a message anyhow,” said Colin. “At least, if you’ve still got the ring Judith forged.”
“Aye,” said Stephen. Each of the rings contained blood: his, Colin’s, Judith’s, and their father’s. Wearing it, he could speak to Colin at some distance, though Judith and Alasdair were each, in their own manner, too far away. “But if I need more immediate assistance, it’d be good to have her there.”
