Free Requiem (The Penny Dreadfuls Book 1) by Skye Knizley Page A

one at a time onto the stove top and shuffled them around like pieces from a puzzle. Most were articles from the Times and Dispatch Crime and Punishment section, but others were from the small ads. One in particular, though badly charred, read “The Slender Man Wanted” with a description of the man needed and an address on the north side of the city.
    Whoever placed this advert may as well have addressed it to Moody , Chastity thought. No one else could possibly fit the bill.
    She broke off the worst of the char and added the advert to her purse. When she straightened, she noticed that her breath was coming in plumes; the room had grown increasingly cold while she worked. She moved to the window, surprised to find it was not fogged over, but rather covered in a thin film of ice. She wiped it away enough to see and was surprised to see it was still only raining.
    “Passing strange,” she muttered. “Peculiar, to say the least.”
    She turned and huffed on the room’s single mirror. It fogged over slowly and froze as if the room were far colder than it should be. With her curiosity piqued, Chastity began another search of the room, this time searching for the spell or device that was putting such chill in the air. After several minutes with nothing but knees bruised from checking under the furniture, she frowned and dropped into a chair. By now her fingers were growing numb from the cold and she was beginning to shiver. She considered lighting the stove while she searched, but that was sure to be noticed when Moody returned. She resolved to leave and get one of the runners to watch the place on the off chance that Moody came back, when she heard a noise. A sort of odd shuffling, slithering noise that came from the wall beside her. She pressed her ear to the wall and the noise got louder, moving back and forth inside the wall, a whisper of sound barely audible above the patter of rain and the gurgle of gutters outside. It carried with it a quality that made the hair stand on the back of her neck and a chill slither down her spine in time with the sound. She placed a hand on the wall and tried to follow the noise as it moved back and forth, up and down. She could feel movement through the plaster and knew it wasn’t her imagination.
    “Oi! What are ye doin’ in here?” a voice roared.
    Chastity jerked away from the wall as if it was on fire and turned to face the doorway. A large man dressed in a suit and sopping wet greatcoat stood in the doorway.
    “I’m sorry,” Chastity said. “I was looking for Mr. Moody.  I don’t think that is you.”
    “Of course not, do I look like a freak to you?” the man asked. “What d’you want ‘im for?”
    Chastity fought for composure. The hypnotic noise and her surprise at the man’s presence had her feeling like a child caught stealing from the apple cart. She patted her hair back into place and favored him with her best smile.
    “I am Chastity MacLeod from the Dispatch. I was hoping to catch up with Mr. Moody for an interview. Have you seen him?”
    The man shook his head. “He ain’t been in for a few days and he’s two weeks behind on the room. I’m here to toss his things into the street, I got payin’ customers waitin’ for this place.”
    Chastity frowned. This was her most solid lead, with any luck, Moody would come back, but not if his meager belongings were pitched into the gutter. “Perhaps I could settle his bill? How much does he owe?”
    It was the man’s turn to frown. He looked Chastity up and down and glared at her with dark eyes. “What’s a spit of a girl like you want to pay the freak’s bill for? You got eyes for ’im?”
    Chastity looked away, feigning embarrassment. “Of course not, I just want the interview. If you throw his things away he won’t come back and I might never catch up with him. It’s so hard for a lady to break a story.”
    She looked back at him with tears in her eyes. “Can you help me?”
    The man’s frown