The Last Necromancer (The Ministry of Curiosities, #1)

by C.J. Archer

If I couldn't have my liberty, I could at least hold onto some dignity.

"Death's a machine," Gus chimed in. "And like God, too. A god-machine. Don't push him or he'll come down on you like a ton of bibles."

"You're a tosspot." He grunted. "I expect a gutter dweller to come up with something more offensive than that." "A fucking tosspot." "Better.

"I am in charge of the ministry now, and I say how we treat our informants." Fitzroy's voice was cool and ominously quiet.

As a prisoner, my duty is to escape. As my jailors, it's your duty to keep me in here. Which one of us failed?"

"Think of us as the sword of the empire," Seth said, puffing out his chest. "And Mr. Fitzroy is the pointy end."

If he wanted to keep a close eye on me, I might as well annoy him. It was my duty as his prisoner.

"And you call my sense of humor dry," I muttered when I caught up to him near the stables. "Yours is positively parched."

"We hit a dead end, sir," Seth said. "Five years ago, he just seemed to suddenly appear from nowhere. The gang he joined doesn't know where he came from before that. The trail went cold in Tufnell Park. We're sorry, sir."

"I have nearly starved to death, almost frozen to death, been beaten to near death, left to rot in jail with men who wanted to do things to me that made me want to die. Unless you plan on killing me, your drastic measures will be a gift by comparison."

"You lied to me." The familiar, deep voice sent my heart plunging to my toes. I opened my eyes to see Fitzroy standing beside me, his fists clenched into tight balls at his sides. From the angle of my position, I could not see his face, yet I knew he could see me. All of me. There was no hiding my nakedness now, or my womanliness.

Lady Harcourt turned a winning smile onto me. "What is there for a girl to do here?" "Gamble and play cards," I told her. She clicked her tongue. "Drink whiskey and smoke cigars."