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Chapter One

Have you ever heard tell of the Hellequin? …

--Froend of the Hellequin

LONDON, ENGLAND

MARCH 1740

The night Godric St John saw his wife for the first ti a pistol at his head Lady Margaret stood beside her carriage in the filthy St Giles street, her glossy, dark curls tu from the velvet hood of her cloak Her shoulders were square, both hands firleaht his breath in ader

BOOM!

The report was deafening but fortunately not fatal, as his as apparently an execrable shot This did not reassure Godric as aret ie

Even the worst shots could get lucky on occasion

But Godric hadn’t the ti hirateful hide froe here, in the erous part of London

Godric ducked the enor at his head and kicked the footpad in the stoo down, probably because he was as big as a draft horse Instead, the robber began a counterclockwise circle of Godric as his compatriots--four of them, and every one quite as well fed--closed in on hi one in his right hand, a short one in his left for defense and close fighting, and--

God’s balls--Lady Margaret fired her second pistol at hi off the decrepit buildings lining the narrow street Godric felt a tug on his short cape as the lead ball went through the wool

Lady Margaret sith a startling breadth of vocabulary

The footpad nearest Godric grinned, revealing teeth the color of week-old piss "Don’t like ’e aret was trying to kill the Ghost of St Giles Unfortunately, she had no way of knowing that the Ghost of St Giles happened to be her husband The black leather mask on Godric’s face hid his identity quite effectively

For a moment, all of St Giles seemed to hold its breath The sixth robber still stood, both of his pistols aiaret’s coachent tones froaret back to safety The lady herself glared froe, apparently oblivious to the fact that she ht be murdered--or worse--if Godric failed to save her froh overhead, the wanbrick buildings, the broken cobblestones underfoot, and a single chandler’s shop sign creaking wearily in the wind

Godric leaped at the still-grinning footpad

Lady Margaret ht bethe instincts of any feral predator who runs down the careless prey that ventures into his path, but it mattered not Godric was the Ghost of St Giles, protector of the weak, a predator to be feared hiht, and, daaret’s husband

So Godric stabbed fast and low, irin had tian to fall as Godric elbowed another footpad advancing behind hi sound

Godric pulled his sword free in a splatter of scarlet and whirled, slashing at a third onally across the , his hands to his face

The reht was nearly always fatal

Godric charged the as it swept toward one of the footpads His strike missed, but he stabbed the short sword in his left hand deep into the thigh of the fifth footpad The man shrieked Both robbers backed away and then turned to flee

Godric straightened, his chest heaving as he caught his breath and looked around The only robber still standing was the one with the pistols

The coachh, reddened face--narrowed his eyes at the robber and pulled a pistol out from under his seat

The last footpad turned and fled without a sound

"Shoot hiaret snapped Her voice tree rather than fear

"M’lady?" The coachman looked at his ht

But Godric knew quite well that she wasn’t ordering theinside of hiht dead for years--woke

His nostrils flared as he stepped over the body of the man he’d killed for her "No need to thank uise his voice, but she see him

The bloodthirsty wench actually clenched her teeth, hissing, "I wasn’t about to"

"No?" He cocked his head, his sood luck?"

Her eyes dropped to his mouth, left uncovered by the half-ust "I’d rather embrace an adder"

Oh, that’s lovely His s?"

He watched, fascinated, as she opened her mouth, no doubt to scorch his hide with her retort, but she was interrupted before she could speak