Lord Lusk crossed his arms. “No more than any of us do.”
“So there’s anus.” Van Helsing leaned in triumphantly. “The sameuswho made their decision about Mr. Bishop?”
“Mr. Bishop is hardly the reliable source you seem to think he is,” Lord Lusk said.
“Shh.” Hel cocked her head, as if listening to something.
“Are you threatening?—” Lord Lusk began.
Hel cut him off. “Do you hear that?” Her hand strayed to her revolver.
Van Helsing’s whole body shifted. “Hear what?” It was as if he were only truly alive when there was something to kill.
The wind surged, and Lord Lusk’s hand tightened on his cane.
“It’s coming from outside.” Hel swept out of the room, her long tan coat winging behind her.
“Stay here,” Van Helsing ordered Sam and Lord Lusk. “It’s not safe. Not for you.”
“You do not get to tell me what to do,” Lord Lusk said, his voice clipped with aristocratic indignation. The two men strode after Hel, shouldering each other to get through the door.
Hel glanced over her shoulder at Sam and nodded minutely, before sweeping out into the storm-ridden night.
Sam rushed to tear off her right glove. There was no time for squeamishness; the others would be gone but moments. Heart hammering in her chest, she grasped Mr. Enfield’s wrist just below his watch. At once, afeelingghosted through her, cold as the heart of winter. Suddenly, Sam couldhearthe wind scream, punctuated by wingbeats, couldfeelher feet tighten with blood, her clothing whipping at her limbs. She gasped, the sweet-rot smell of old meat filled her lungs, and then?—
Nothing.
Not nothing,the song whispered, stirring in the cockles of her ears.Listen?—
Sam jerked her hand away. The sensations fled. She pressed the back of her gloved hand to her mouth, the acid taste of her bile washing her teeth. Tears clung to her lashes, her heart beating like a bird that would escape her chest.
Sam had barely managed to brush the tears from her eyes before the others returned.
“I’m sorry,” she managed. Van Helsing eyed her narrowly, but he hadn’t seen anything. If he had, he would have wasted no time in accusing her. He only suspected. Which meant all she had to do was slip on the glove before Van Helsing noticed its absence. “It’s just?—”
Lord Lusk softened. “You are right. We’re here arguing like fools, when a man is dead.”
Van Helsing stalked toward Sam as she eased the glove back on behind the table. He looked down at her hands. Just in time. They were gloved and clasped innocently in front of her.
“Do not misunderstand me,” Lord Lusk was saying. “I mean to aid you in your investigation. But trust me when I say that if I knew anything of import, I would already have disclosed it.”
If he knew it was important. It seemed to Sam that every case inevitably hinged on the most inconsequential of details. The luxurious drowsiness of a vampiric victim, or the odd dreams of one beset by a night hag.
“We understand,” Hel said, with a hard look at Van Helsing, who had the decency to look abashed.
Mr. Fionnail returned with a tray of dark beer sloshing about in tall glasses. Van Helsing moved to pay the man, but Mr. Fionnail waved him away. The first round was on him. For a moment, they all drank. The beer was caramel smooth with an edge of bitterness that lingered in the foam on Sam’s lips.
Her gaze caught on Mr. Enfield, and Sam’s brow furrowed. There was something... different about him. Some detail on which she couldn’t seem to fix her mind. But what? It was probably nothing, she scolded herself, just the chill rigor of death setting in. She had heard it made strangers of even those we loved best. Then the family arrived, and the three of them were ushered back into the night.
Halfway back to the hotel, Sam figured out what she had been missing. Mr. Enfield’s right hand had been ornamented with a ring when they’d found him on the cobblestones?—Sam remembered the way it had tangled in his hair, the halo of diamonds around that cushion-cut emerald. By the time Sam had reached for Mr. Enfield’s hand, it had been bare.
Lord Lusk had stolen Mr. Enfield’s ring.
Chapter Seven
The Shelbourne Hotel, Dublin (Baile Átha Cliath)
Four Days Before Samhain
