Minerva shivered. “You’re a monster. You pay these poor people a pittance and force them to work in hellish conditions, and yet still you’re not satisfied.”
Monk stamped his walking stick. Spittle flew from his mouth as he raged. “Ingrates, every one of them. Always bleating for more money. They used to be grateful for any scrap of work I could throw them, but not anymore. Now they’re getting too picky. And all thanks to that interfering friend of yours, Mr. Quigley.”
Minerva stared at him. “Mr. Quigley? What has he to do with you?”
“He stopped the potato blight, didn’t he? Now half the Irish are packing up and going home.”
“And you’re complaining because you can’t exploit your workforce as much as you used to.” She let out a laugh. She couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop laughing at the irony of the situation.
Monk’s face turned a furious red. “Hold your tittering. I won’t have nowt of your cheek.”
She tried to halt, but the laughter kept bubbling up. Hysteria wasn’t far off. Her father was dead, Asher had no idea where she was and she was in mortal danger. Why shouldn’t she laugh?
Monk raised his walking stick and brought it down hard on her shoulder. The lash ripped through the material of her dress. Agony seared through skin and bone and muscle. Crying out, she crumpled to her knees.
“Let’s see how much you laugh when I turn you over to my men, my fine lady. You’ve always thought yourself too good for the likes of me, haven’t you? Even my son isn’t good enough for you. Dorian’s infatuated with you, but I’ve seen the way you turn your nose up at him. Well, you’ll have no more false airs and graces once my men have had their way with you. You’ll be begging them to put you out of your misery.”
Dorian. Was he part of this plot too? She couldn’t believe him capable, but then she’d been so wrong about Mr. Monk too.
Monk turned to the two men standing guard at the door. “Jago, you can have your fun with her, but keep her mouth gagged. We don’t want too much noise, even here. And make sure you get rid of her properly when you’re done. Understand?”
“Understood, guv’nor.”
Minerva’s stomach dropped as Monk left the hovel. Grinning, the two men turned their attention to her. The one in charge, Jago, she was already too familiar with. The other was not the one who had rescued her. This man looked as mean and brutal as Jago.
“Time for a party, hey?” Jago smirked as he pulled out a filthy handkerchief and snapped it tight between his hands. “But first, we must stop up yer pretty mouth.”
She backed away from them, snatching up a length of wood. “Stay away from me.”
“Yer feisty, that’s for sure.” The man circled her, a big leer painted on his face. “I’m going to have fun taming yer.”
He lunged for her. She leaped sideways, swinging her piece of wood wildly. It connected with the man’s elbow.
“Argh!”
The second man grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her side. She screamed and thrashed about. Jago rubbed his injured arm, then backhanded her across the face. Her head snapped to one side. She screamed and carried on screaming. The slum dwellers wouldn’t come to her aid, but she’d be damned if she let these two savages violate her without protest.
“Shurrup!”
Snarling, Jago advanced on her with the handkerchief, ready to stuff it into her mouth. The vicious intent in his eyes gave her extra strength. As he approached, she lifted her knee and drove her boot into his groin. Surprise and agony burst over his face before he collapsed to his knees. The momentum of her kick forced her backward. The man holding her stumbled and toppled over, bringing her crashing down on top of him. She writhed about, desperate to free herself, but the man had her tight. Swearing, he dragged himself upright, imprisoning her in front of him.
“Hold still, yer bitch!”
The door flew open, shuddering on its hinges. Asher burst into the room, the ray gun firm in his hand. Jago stopped rolling on the floor. Minerva’s gaze locked with Asher’s. Her heart came to a standstill, then began to pound against her ribs.
He raised the ray gun, cool and detached. “Let her go, or I will kill you.”
Her captor gripped her tighter as he backed away. “Yer might kill her too.”
Asher took a few more steps. A movement on the ground caught Minerva’s eye. “Asher, watch out!”
Jago launched himself at Asher’s legs, a blade flashing in his fist. A blue ray of light lit up the hovel. Jago shrieked once as he fell back, a smoking black hole in the center of his chest. An awful smell of charred flesh filled the air, accompanied by a low death gurgle. The man holding Minerva flung her from him, straight at Asher, who lowered his gun and caught her just as the man escaped.
“He—he’s getting away,” she whispered.
She thought Asher would release her and give chase, but he didn’t. He wrapped her in his arms and hugged her tightly.
“Are you unharmed?”
“Yes, b-but my father—”
“—is alive. I fished him out of the river.”
“Oh, Asher, is he really alive?” Relief surged through her. “I thought he surely must have died. The rope…”
“I used my ray gun to cut him down. I could have done it much earlier if you hadn’t been in the way.”
“Thank God you brought your ray gun.” She flinched from the dead man lying at their feet and swayed. “That man, Jago…he…”
He folded her closer to his chest. “He’s met his just deserts.”
The power of his embrace gave her renewed strength. “He also works for Mr. Monk, who left just a few minutes before you arrived.”
“Your landlord? So he is the kidnapper?” Asher let out a low whistle.
“He’s a nasty, foul piece of work, and I’m determined to confront him.” She frowned, her fury rebuilding. “Come on, we must get to his house before that other fellow has a chance to warn him and he makes his escape.”
“How do you know he’s gone back to his house?”
“I don’t, but that’s as good a place to start our search as any.”
She caught his hand in hers and ducked out of the hovel.
Chapter Eight
Outside, the rain had dropped off, but the laneways were slippery and dank. Minerva paused in dismay as she realized what a maze they were caught in.
“Follow me.” Asher tugged her forward.
She followed him with growing astonishment. How he knew his way through this labyrinth of alleys she couldn’t guess, but he steered her unerringly, and soon they had left the worst of the slums behind them. Her wet clothing clung to her uncomfortably, and the night breeze chilled her even further, but the feel of Asher’s hand in hers more than made up for the discomfort. They hurried down deserted streets, heading for the more prosperous city center until eventually Asher was able to flag down a passing hackney carriage.
“Where is my father right now?” Minerva asked after they had settled inside the carriage and Asher had instructed the driver.
“I raced him to the Royal Infirmary and left him in good hands.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
Asher paused before replying, “He was too comatose for speech, but he was breathing normally.”
“And…what of his ear?”
“It looks bad, but it should heal.”
She bit her lip and looked away.
“Minerva, your father is alive, and you’ll soon be able to see him.” He took her hand and massaged it between his palms. “It’s you I’ve been so anxious for.”
His warmth upset the rhythm of her heartbeat…as did the look in his eyes. Her breath pitched as she struggled not to fling herself into his arms.
“How…how did you know where to look for me? And how did you even manage to find me? Those slums are impenetrable.”
He touched the collar of her dress. “That’s why I gave you this.”
“This pin?”
“It’s really a stalking device in disguise. A little invention of mine. The gold isn’t real gold, but iron pyrite, better known as fool’s gold. It’s a natural semiconductor. These copper coils on the pin connect with the iron pyrite crystals to emit tiny magnetic waves, which are picked up by my receiving device.” He pulled out a round brass instrument from his pocket and extended a thin wire antenna. “It acts like a compass, with your pin as magnetic north. It only has a range of about a hundred feet or so. I knew you’d been taken downriver, so after I dropped Silas off at the infirmary, I commandeered a boat and followed your route. Luckily, the hut you were taken to lies close to the river. I picked up the signal and it steered me directly to where you were.”
“How ingenious.” She examined the small pin, which even on close inspection did not reveal its true nature. “You should have told me what it was.”
“It’s still experimental. I didn’t want to give you a false sense of confidence.”
No, instead he had given her a different false sense. A sense that he still cared for her enough to give her a pretty trinket. “Well, it’s a good-luck charm after all,” she said as lightly as possible.