Ashes To Ashes: A Ministry of Curiosities Novella (The Ministry of Curiosities Book 5) by C.J. Archer Read Free Book Online Page B

O'Neill?"
    "A mick?" He snorted then winced and rubbed his throat. After a long sip, he said, "Thought she had better taste than that. He's not one of those freaks, is he?"
    "He was the strong man."
    Buchanan paused, the glass near his lips. "Was?"
    "He died two nights ago."
    Buchanan nodded thoughtfully then took another sip. "Then she'll be more available now. Twice a week isn't enough."
    Lincoln waited while Buchanan finished the rest of his drink. What had Julia ever seen in this parasite? Perhaps he'd been less of a prick when she'd first met him at The Alhambra. Perhaps their prior connection, and her subsequent rejection of him in favor of his father, made her feel guilty enough to allow him to stay on at Harcourt House. Then again, Lincoln wasn't sure if guilt was an emotion she was capable of feeling.
    "What does the fellow's death have to do with me?" Buchanan drawled.
    "Did you kill him?"
    "No! Do you think I'm jealous of a greasy mick freak? I didn't even know about him until now."
    Lincoln believed him. The man was easy to read, and Lincoln's senses told him he had nothing to hide. Buchanan hadn't killed O'Neill. "He knew about you," Lincoln said. "I found this address among his things."
    "Blimey. Do you think he was jealous of me ?"
    "It's possible. It's also possible that he was killed before he had a chance to come here and confront you, if that were his intention."
    Buchanan swallowed and touched the red mark across his throat. "Thank God for that."
    "Have you seen anyone lurking outside lately? Have you been followed?"
    "Not that I am aware. What did he look like?"
    "Regular height and average build with brown hair. He sported a beard and moustache, and would have had an Irish accent."
    "Doesn't sound familiar." He frowned. "Wouldn't the circus strong man be, well, strongly built? I thought a thick build would be the order of the day."
    "O'Neill's strength was quite ordinary. His feats were a result of his supernatural power. He could move objects with his mind."
    Buchanan leaned forward and held the empty glass by the tips of his fingers. His eyes flared. "Incredible. What a power to have! Image the things one could do."
    Imagine the things that could be done if someone like Buchanan had powers. It was why it was so important to document the lineage of supernaturals and know where each one was at all times. Lincoln might not always like the committee members, but he agreed with their philosophy and that of the ministry on the whole. Having supernaturals living among regular folk had the potential for danger, if certain powers were controlled by the wrong people. It was why he'd told Charlie not to let anyone see her use her necromancy, and why he'd not told a soul where she'd gone.
    Lincoln took the liberty of pouring himself a snifter of brandy. He drank it and set the glass back on the sideboard. It didn't make him feel any better.
    "I say, are you listening?" Buchanan said.
    Lincoln turned and gripped the edge of the sideboard at his back. He hadn't heard a word. "Go on."
    "I was telling you about the strange thing that happened to me last week. On Tuesday, I think it was. I'd spent the previous night in the arms of the delightfully supple Ela at our usual meeting place."
    "Which is?"
    "A dreary little establishment in Kensington where rooms can be rented by the hour." He screwed up his nose and snorted. "The landlord resembles a rat. Can't recall his name now. Anyway, I left after we…you know…and came home a little after dawn. I was almost at the steps here when I slipped over on the pavement." He looked at Lincoln, waiting for a response.
    "You were drunk."
    "Not very. Besides, I can drink a bottle of champagne and still walk a straight line, I'll have you know." He sniffed then frowned at his empty glass. "It was strange. The ground was dry, I didn't trip, and I had an odd sensation of my legs buckling under me. Then there was the laughter."
    "Go on."
    "I thought I heard a man laugh. When I looked