They were about to start down the corridor when the portly doorman with the ruddy face and gimlet eyes who’d let them inside the building stepped in their path.
“You forgot the entrance fee,” he said gruffly.
Ginny sighed, fished inside the pocket of her dress, and dropped a shilling in his hand.
The man didn’t budge. “Fee’s gone up, love.” He flashed tobacco-stained teeth at them.
Ginny wrinkled her forehead. “Since when?”
“Since I said so.” The man leered and reached for her. “You’re a pretty little thing. I can forego your entrance fees if you let me kiss?—”
The rest of his words disappeared on a high-pitched wheeze.
Evander winced.
Ginny had twisted the doorman’s wrist and grabbed him by the balls.
“Would you care to complete that sentence?!” she hissed in his face.
The man shook his head jerkily, legs crossed and tears pooling in his eyes.
“Good.” She released him and started down the passage.
The doorman gasped and crouched, hands covering his privates. An incoherent sound of protest left him when Ginny retraced her steps and swiped her shilling back.
“That’s for being a prick,” she said coldly.
“Wait,” the doorman protested. “I need to pat you down for weapons.”
Ginny arched an arrogant eyebrow.
The doorman sagged. “Just tell them I did so if they ask, will ya?”
The man guarding the next door knew better than to challenge her. His gaze moved curiously over Evander as they passed him, no doubt wondering what their relationship was.
Considering the outfits he and Ginny were wearing, it would be difficult for anyone to guess they were nobles.
“Henry will be proud,” Evander drawled as they negotiated the passage beyond the second door. “You’ll have to report that you turned yet another man’s genitals black and blue and not in a nice way.”
Ginny rolled her eyes.
Henry “Jab” Flintlock was a retired Navy man who owned a training club in the East End. There, he taught anyone willing to learn the fighting skills he’d picked up from his time in the military and the years he’d spent traveling through the Far East studying under various masters of Kung Fu, Karate, and Jujutsu. It was Hargrove who’d introduced Evander, Ginny, and Rufus to Flintlock after Ginny had requested an instructor to teach her the art of street fighting. Being a high-end courtesan came with its own risks and she’d been determined to be ready for any situation she encountered.
Though Evander and Rufus had initially tagged along to make sure she was safe, they’d soon found themselves swept up by the atmosphere of sweat, determination, and camaraderie that characterised Henry’s club and soon became his students. There were no ranks or titles on the training floor. No differentiation between magic users and thralls, between nobles and slum dwellers. Everyone was equal in Henry’s club and he treated them as such.
The corridor branched off after some twenty feet. Ginny turned left, crossed two doors, and stopped in front of an opening leading to a stone staircase.
The steps spiralled beneath the building. She started down them.
Evander followed.
A low murmur of voices reached him when they arrived at the first landing. He frowned when they got to the third landing with no visible end in sight.
“How far does this go?”
“This place was built over a network of limestone caves,” Ginny said guardedly. “It’s deep.”
The noise swelled to a brouhaha that soon filled Evander’s ears, the raucous sound of chanting and whooping making the air buzz with an energy that made his skin tingle.