Page 32 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
I abandoned the papers on the desk and reached for a drawer.
‘You won’t find anything of interest in there, you harlot! Get your mucky fingers out of my drawers!’
‘Who’s the harlot now?’ I murmured. ‘I have no interest in your drawers.’
Unfortunately I had no interest in the café owner’s drawers either; they contained nothing more than a half-eaten packet of mint humbugs and some chewed pencils. I turned towards thefiling cabinets, desperately hoping that the woman who ran the café alphabetised her papers.
‘I have had enough of this!’ Lady Augusta shrieked. ‘Harriet! Harriet! Get in here!’
I winced. ‘Shush! Harriet is busy!’
‘I am in charge of this establishment! If I want Harriet, Harriet will come!’
Goddamnit. Any second now she’d scream the whole building down. I yanked the nearest cabinet drawer.
‘I’d have thought,’ I said in desperation, ‘that running a café would be beneath a lady of your standing.’
‘Despite my efforts, my family has fallen on difficult times,’ she sneered. ‘But I am not afraid of hard work. I will work these delicate fingers to the bone if it means that the De Marcys can be returned to their rightful position in society.’
‘I have told you that the De Marcys are gone, Your Ladyship,’ said a new voice. ‘They haven’t existed for three generations. There’s nobody left and no rightful position to reclaim.’
I turned my head and my eyes met those of the brown-haired café owner. Then my gaze dropped to the large kitchen knife she was clutching in her hands. Uh-oh.
A half second later, Lady Augusta started to cackle.
Chapter
Twelve
Harriet – because presumably that was the café owner’s name – looked fierce enough to use the sharp knife she was brandishing, but my old assassin’s instincts had stirred into life and I’d already established three different ways I could use the weapon against her. It would take very little effort to bring her down because she wasn’t a professional; neither was she a witch or a druid, so it was unlikely she’d be throwing any spells my way.
It seemed unfair to hurt her, though, when she was only defending what was hers. She hadn’t done anything wrong – and I still didn’t have the information I needed. I took charge of the situation before she panicked and did something we’d all regret.
‘My name is Kit,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m not here to hurt anyone or to steal from you. All I’m trying to find is a teeny-tiny piece of information about a member of the Blue Tattoos.’
It might have been my imagination but it seemed that Harriet relaxed slightly. ‘Two of them are out there.’ She jerked her head towards the café. ‘You could have asked them.’
‘I could have,’ I agreed pleasantly. ‘But they wouldn’t havetold me, not without some persuasion. And I’m trying to avoid hurting people unnecessarily these days.’
‘Kill her, Harriet!’ Lady Augusta shouted. ‘Stab her in the heart! Now!’
Harriet lowered the knife. ‘Are you succeeding?’ she enquired, ignoring the painting.
‘At not hurting people?’ I considered. ‘Mostly. Apart from when they really deserve it.’
Lady Augusta wasn’t finished, and she didn’t appear to care that Harriet was paying her no attention. ‘Claw her eyes out!’
‘She’s quite bloodthirsty, isn’t she?’ I commented.
Harriet rolled her eyes. ‘You haven’t heard the half of it.’ She took another step into the room and closed the door behind her.
‘Slit her throat!’
‘Hush,’ Harriet said to Lady Augusta, then gazed at me. ‘The werewolf. He’s with you?’
There was no point in lying; we’d been sitting together for twenty minutes before Thane had started his coffee-complaint diversion. ‘Yes.’
‘I’ve thrown him out,’ she said casually. ‘And I’ve told him he has a lifetime ban. He can never come back here. I don’t appreciate false complaints with underhand motives.’
