Kipps's arm encircled me, pulling my body from the blast radius of the Greek fire. With the force of the explosion, we were flung backward.

I inhaled dust as I pawed my hair out of my eyes in time to watch Seamus lunge at the nearest relic-man, rapier blazing in the flickering light. Holly shrieked profanities as she ripped her rapier free and tackled the second relic-man. I sat up, squashing Kipps in the process.

Anyone who was not engaged in combat was laying in a bed of smoking embers and dust, all save one. Louis Tann stood in the eyes of the storm, hand on Francis's shoulder, ectoplasm swirling like a thick cloak around them.

I struggled upright, one hand pressed against my side to relieve the stabbing pain I felt there and picked up my sheathed rapier. With a flick of my wrist, the sheath sent flying across the room and I stalked toward the two.

# #.

Three hours earlier

#

"There's no light over Paris today," those words set me off on the most life-altering leg of my journey in France. I returned to my hotel room with Holly, feeling hopeless. Clueless. Listless.

I felt it all as I sat on a chair, staring at the walls of newspapers and red string.

My yarn had let me down, as had my intuition. I had a lead, I had one. It had been so close I could have reached out and grabbed it, then it slipped right between my fingers. Holly perched on my unmade bed - a brave move- and whispered, "I got a name from her."

Holly had lingered in the orphanage to question Ms. Black further but I had slipped, nay, bolted from the room. I stood out on the tree-lined street to breathe. I had needed to breathe.

"His name is Louis Tann. She gave me his business card."

"Let's make inquiries," I said. Holly nodded, offering to run down to the lobby. I agreed and she left, leaving me alone.

Well, not alone. The ghosts were there too.

They sat on the window, the overcast sky giving them enough darkness to flicker weakly. They twitched in the photograph, ectoplasm curling.

"There's no light over Paris today," Simon mused, his voice barely above a whisper. I didn't know if he was talking to me or to himself.

"If you know something, now would be the time to speak up," I growled, balling my fists in the now wretchedly hot sweater dress.

"We know Mr. Tann," Brigette said. "Thought, you probably don't want to talk to us. We are such deceiving creatures, we ghosts."

I was ready to stand up, swear profusely and demand them to tell me but that was what they wanted. And I didn't want to play their game any longer.

"Don't you want to know?" Brigette coaxed.

"No," I said, settling back down into my chair and smoothing my dress under my trembling fingers. "I don't need your help. Holly and I have this." I was a pretty good list, I had to admit. My devious untruthfulness had gotten me out of trouble very often but this time was different. As I spoke the words, I felt very, very unsure. I wasn't the leader, decision-making type. That was always Lockwood and in a pinch, George. But me?

No. It was in fact, inadvisable to place me in charge.

Brigette chuckled. "Bet you wish you had Lockwood."

Do you know what I said about not playing their game? Well, I followed their plan perfectly from then on out.

"How weak do you think I am?" I growled, standing up so quickly I knocked over the armchair. "Lockwood is lucky I'm around to fix his problems He is an absolute moron, at the best of times, an imbecile of the highest order. He is a greedy, gorgeous, big-headed, incredibly attractive and annoying man who I could strangle in an instant. Just, why do you think I need him to fight my battles?"

I felt all doubt fly from my body, replaced with burning red indignation. In spite, I felt confident taking place of my fear.

Lockwood solve my problems? Bet.

When Holly returned with her information, she found me stuffing the jar into the toilet bowl of the ensuite bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

"If they insist on being vile, they belong in here!" I said, slamming down the toilet lid and ignoring the pleas for forgiveness and disinfectant.

"Ah," holly perched on the edge of the tub, clutching a slip of hotel stationery. "Louis Tann, 35. Father, Andrew Tann, sister, Vivienne Tann, both deceased."

"Job? Residence? Phone Number?"

"No luck on the phone number left a message, but he worked for Golden Age Antiques here in Paris. Has been a recluse in his home for five years, since he returned from Scotland, as Mrs. Black said."

"Connected to the Charon Club?" I asked, settling down on the bathroom floor.

"Definitely," Holly confirmed. "He was sent to Scotland by them and, after I did some digging, was in contact with the Winkmans."

"How?"

"Not many details. His past employer was sketchy."

I sighed, pursing my lips. A gargled voice came from the toilet bowl. "His father dealt in black market relics. Andrew was in the society with us."

Holly and I exchanged a furtive glance before I reached over and lifted the lid. "Any ideas if it was a family business?"

"How should we know?" Brigette sniffed. "We're dead remember."

I slammed the lid down again and pulled my hair back from my face, trying to think.

"We could stop by and talk to him?" Holly suggested. "Not just you and me though Luce. If he is a relic man, I don't want to face him alone."

"Not Lockwood," I said, quickly. I couldn't bear to see his face right now.

"Of course," Holly raised her hands in a placating gesture. "Seamus and Kipps?"

I nodded. "I'll get the scribes going on-" Holly started to say but I cut her off. "I'm done running everything past Lockwood."

"Oh. Okay,"

"If we do this, it's you, me, Seamus, and Kipps. No government, no restrictions."

"Very well," Holly agreed. "I'll get that address copied down. Tomorrow morning?"

Looking back over my shoulder at the midday sky peeking clearly through the windows, I shook my head. "No, I want this done today."

"Alright. I'll get Quill and Seamus."

###

One Hour Later

###

Our taxi dropped us off late afternoon when a dreary daze seems to sink into the very bones of the world. This is a time of yawns, sleepy eyes and multiple watch checks. Quill hefted the only bulky bag we carried over his shoulder and looked at the house in admiration. It was a terrace house, relatively new, very nice. A place where people took their shoes off in the entryway.

Holly gave Seamus a once over to ensure his uniform completeness than looked at me expectantly. I marched up the top steps feeling a weightless fall over me.

Maybe it was the lack of kit bags since we had chosen to travel light?

Maybe it was the absence of the chattering ghost children, who were still in the commode's porcelain depths?

Or maybe it was because I had a purpose again?

I rapped my knuckles against the dark wood door and stepped back, folding my hands neatly in front of me. As the door opened, Holly, Kipps, and Seamus closed ranks, ready to pounce on our prey. The Victim of today was a small old woman, about 70 years of age, stooped and thin but with bright green eyes that snapped with a fire.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Her accent reminded me of home, a thick brogue that screamed of the north.

"Lucy Carlyle, inquiring a meeting with Mr. Tann," I said, stepping forward and passing the old woman. The interior of the house was just as pretentious as the exterior. We did not remove our shoes. "We'd like to ask him some questions about a child from St. Lavaline's orphanage."

"I don't know about any boy," the lady said quickly. "But if it's Mr. Tann you'll be wanting, best leave a message with me. I'm Mrs. Neil, his housekeeper."

I looked around at the entrance hall. White marble floors, a grand wooden staircase climbing into the sky. Doors leading off to all sorts of regions of the house. As I turned round to face Mrs. Neil, I saw a flash of movement in a doorway and heard the creak of floorboards. "Is he not home?"

"No, Ma'am, he's away," Mrs. Neil shuffled her clogged feet. She too had seen the flash of movement. "As I said, I'll take a message."

"What about the child from St. Lavaline's?" Holly asked. "Is Francis home?"

"I don't know of any boy named Francis in this house!" Mrs. Neil insisted.

I tilted my head to the side. "Whoever said Francis was a boy?" Mrs. Neil blanched a deathly white and wobbled in place.

"I suggest you sit down, ma'am," Kipps said. "We are agents of Lockwood and Co. If you cause problems, we'll have to charge you with obstructing an investigation." he led her away to some sitting room in the depths of the house while I shut my eyes and listened. Great pulsing energy ran under this house, like a supernatural heart under my feet.

"Downstairs," I said to Holly and Seamus. The moments that stretched between our finding a door down to the basement and our descent down the stairs felt endless. In it, I endured Holly's anxious breaths and Kipps's stomping footsteps. When we stopped on the landing, I took a steadying breath and pushed through the door. The room beyond was the length of the house and lined with alcoves filled with shelves, on which a variety of curiosities glowed with an ethereal green.

I stepped forward, lingering on the outskirts of the room. I avoided the great mosaic that was embedded in the floor. Holly paused to study the art but I barely glanced at it - hooded figure on some boat- before swirling my eyes around the room.

Kipps and I met eyes and had a silent conversation.

Kipps: Ask for him?

Me: But he could be waiting for us.

Kipps: Ambush? Mrs. Neil warned him?

I shrugged: Maybe.

Kipps: well, just do it and if we're ambushed, we deal with it.

I sighed and pulled Seamus closer to me. "Mr. Tann?" no one leaped forward from the shadows to stab me so I felt encouraged.

"Mr. Tann? It's Lockwood and Co., we've come to speak to Francis,"

A great, monstrous, shadow stretched out before me on the tiled floor. I turned and saw a man in the doorway, his hand resting on a large, silver sword. Holly and I backed into each other, sandwiching Seamus between us.

"Lockwood and Co.?" the man said softly. He stepped out o the shadows into the light of the singular lamp, swinging from the ceiling. His broad shoulders and hulking figure was cloaked in a dark trench coat. The single iridescent feather earring hanging from his ear was the only colors he wore. "Yes, I know of you." his time in Scotland had given him a rough accent, I noted. "You were acquainted with Julius Winkman?"

I winced. "Acquainted isn't the word I would use."

"Lockwood and Co. The Bone Glass, you just seem to foil our best-laid plans."

"Maybe if your plans aren't endangering people's lives," I said, placing a shaking hand on my rapier hilt. "We wouldn't have to intervene."

"And what right do you have to intervene between me and my nephew?" Mr. Tann asked. I looked behind me; an alcove door opened and let in two more burly men, three times the size of Kipps. Panic began to grip my stomach tight in its fist. I tapped my rapier hilt with my fingernails, trying to stay calm. "Your nephew is a witness to a haunting. I need to speak to him about his involvement with the ghosts."

"Francis doesn't wish to speak to you," Louis said. Two more men slid into the room. We bunched together, safety in numbers. "I need to ask him about Brigette and Simon. He'll understand,"

"Francis doesn't' want to talk to you," Mr. Tann repeated and snapped his fingers. The four relic-men inched forward.

"Is he here?" Holly asked, gripping Seamus's hand in her own.

"He's always here." Mr. Tann stepped aside to reveal the small form of Francis. He seemed to have grown a few inches and the steely glint in his eye was new.

"I like it here," I murmured. "I know what I can do here, I'm powerful here."

"Lease just talk to us!" I insisted. "I want to know about Brigette and Sim-"

"YOU KILLED THEM!" Francis screeched. The glass vials of glowing ectoplasm on the shelves exploded and chaos broke loose. Someone drew a rapier. Seamus ripped away from Holly. I unbuckled a canister of greek fire and in a blur, chucked it across the room.

##

Now

##

"You killed them," Francis spat.

"They were already dead Francis," I said, sending spears of ectoplasm away with my blade. "They wanted to manipulate you. That's what they wanted to do with me," the tendrils of ectoplasm seemed to emanate from Francis himself as if he controlled the energy.

"They were my friends!" he shouted, the green in the waves of ghostly otherlight became extraordinarily vibrant. I looked over my shoulder for a split second. Holly and Seamus were out of their league and Kipps was unconscious. I had to end this quickly.

"They aren't gone," I said, playing my hand in full. The ectoplasmic energy flickered.

"What?" Francis's voice broke. He sounded so hopeful, so lost. My heart went out to him.

"They are still in this world. We didn't destroy them."

The storm vanished as Francis fell to his knees and Mr. Tann tossed the boy over his shoulder. My vision went blurry, I felt dizzy. The pain in my side was excruciating. I stumbled but strong arms wrapped around me.

"Woah, Luce," a warm voice murmured in my ear. "Take it easy."

"Tann?"

"He's gone, Lucy." my vision cleared enough for me to look up and glimpse familiar hair and eyes. "Oh no. Not you."

Anthony smiled down at me.

"I'm going to kill Holly." I growled then blacked out.