“Wait, so you received this note, and you just... went there?” Sam said. It was, perhaps, the most suspicious note Sam had ever seen. “Without so much as telling us?”
Van Helsing snatched the note back. “It told me not to.”
“And you listened to it?” Sam said. The barest whiff of authority, and Van Helsing was tying himself in knots to prove himself. It was like a sickness. “A note. Over us. Your partners.”
“I don’t see how this is any different from going to see Keogh about a priest,” Van Helsing said, his hackles rising at the implication that he might answer to her on anything. “Besides, it’shim. I recognize the handwriting from the reports.”
“It’s different because we were in that together,” Sam said. “What if it had been a trap?”
“Don’t pretend you care,” Van Helsing said bitterly, and it occurred to Sam that Van Helsingminded, that he thought his efforts ought to be rewarded with her affections, as if he were bringing anything into her life aside from fear.
Well, Sam reflected, that wasn’t entirely fair. He inspired other emotions too. Frustration, for instance, and fury. He had rescued her, she reminded herself. Whatever he thought of Sam, he had done that, even if it was only for the sake of his reputation.
“It’s just that I don’t like secrets,” Sam said.
“Right,” Van Helsing said dryly. “That’s why you keep so many of them.”
“Come now, Miss Harker,” Hel interrupted. “We oughtn’t be surprised. It’s hardly the first time Detective Lynch has wanted to talk to Mr. Van Helsing alone.”
“Thank you, Miss Moriarty,” Van Helsing said.
“So, what happened?” Hel pressed. “You met with Detective Lynch?”
Van Helsing nodded. “The dead car is the Special Branch’s mobile base.”
That actually made sense. If their theories were accurate, the Wild Hunt would come for the Special Branch. But the train was a moving fortress made of iron; even the Wild Hunt would struggle to rip someone from its grasp.
“What did he want?” Hel asked.
Van Helsing sighed and turned away. “Detective Lynch is less than pleased with our progress so far.”
“It’s only been three days,” Sam said. “What were they expecting?”
“They wereexpectingthe foremost experts on abnormal phenomena in the British Empire,” Van Helsing said, a bit more savagely than Sam would have guessed for words aimed at himself.
“Wearethe experts,” Sam said.
“Then perhaps you can explain why, when we were brought here to make things better, we managed to escalate things?” Van Helsing said bitterly. “Because I couldn’t.”
“I’m not entirely certain we did.” But she remembered thecrackof Van Helsing’s revolver, right before Mr. Enfield crumpled to the cobblestones.
“There is a pile of corpses waiting for us in Lusk, Miss Harker,” Van Helsing said, his voice harsh. “The Duke and the Viscount amongst them. Men we’d been sent tosave. I’d argue that constitutes an escalation.”
“If it makes you feel any better, they’ve likely been dead a long time,” Hel offered. “So it’s not so much an escalation as uncovering the slaughter that was already taking place.”
Sam and Van Helsing both turned to stare at Hel, who was gritting her teeth against the glare of lamplight against the windows.
“Lord Lusk will answer for his crimes,” Van Helsing promised at last, his voice grim. “I will make certain of it.”
Sam wasn’t so certain. She couldn’t help but think that it felt awfully convenient, that the bodies should show up at their primary suspect’s residence, even though she knew it was fairly common. If Sam were to murder someone, she would ensure their bodies were as far from her domicile as possible. Roll them into a bog or something. Somewhere they wouldn’t be found. Not soon, at any rate.
And even though it seemed likely that the attack by the fabricated hellhounds was unrelated, Sam couldn’t get out of her mind the fact that Mr. Bishop had referred to aher.
Chapter Fourteen
Lusk, County Dublin (Lusca, Contae Bhaile Átha Cliath)
Two Days Before Samhain
