Chapter Eleven

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A/N: Here it is, the eleventh installment of Haunted. Chapter twelve will be the last, and I hope to have it posted in a few days. From there, I've got several other works in mind, including a series of one-shots and another, shorter multi-chapter story. Don't worry; I'm not done with the Sweenett ship yet!

I want to thank everyone for their continued support of this story, including SweeneyT97bellatrixdear, and writingidleteen. Your reviews, messages, and votes have been much appreciated!

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Moonlight streamed bright on the reflective flakes of snow that blew down from the navy sky, the stars hardly visible under the harsh streetlights that adorned the wealthy neighborhood where they now stood. The party of four loitered in the shadows between the beadle's mansion and the adjacent house, the horses tied down the street in front of a shop. "Now what do we do?" Anthony asked in a loud whisper.

Gathering the heavy skirt of her dress, Johanna clomped around the side of the house. Mrs. Lovett's boots were too big for her. Anthony traipsed after her through the snow. "I'm going to get a look at the whole building. The lights are on in the parlor—that means he's awake. Faster we can figure out where she's being held, more likely we are to get out with our skins." Sweeney put a hand on the small of Toby's back like an escort, and they followed the ferocious young woman around the corner of the building. He watched her from behind in the dress that belonged to his Nellie, big brooding eyes on the mansion, her jaw grinding as she thought. She wasn't like he had imagined. Perhaps a physical clone of Lucy, but much more than a fair and tame lass lay behind the very dark eyes they shared. "Mr. Todd, what does this Mrs. Lovett look like?"

"Sort of short with really frizzy reddish hair. Big brown eyes. I'd imagine she's the only woman inside."

"Yes, I'd imagine. They normally off themselves pretty shortly after he gets them, in a few months, or he finds a way to dispose of them." She spoke in a flat, matter-of-fact manner that left Anthony's jaw dangling open in horror. Sweeney tightened his grip on Toby's shoulder. "Even a man like him wouldn't aim to keep two of them at one time. He's a pervert, not an idiot."

The sailor adjusted his hat. "You mean that this has been going on before? That is, the beadle taking women and, and just shutting 'em up like bloody animals for transportation? That's awful wicked!"

She snorted. "Of course it's wicked. He's done it for years in coordination with my father." Sweeney ground his jaw. He is not your father. "Every time there's a ball, it's for a woman the beadle wants. That's how I came under the judge's care—my mother offed herself after the beadle put his slimy hands on her. My governess told me so." She continued to sweep the side of the building with her eyes. They misted over slightly as she spoke. "I always thought my father to have a cleaner heart than that nasty man, but I suppose it's proved now that they both have dirty hands and souls."

Anthony pressed, "Didn't you have a real father, though?"

Her eyes flitted back up to him. "Transported for life for petty theft and battery." They have lied to you, and I am so sorry. Abrupt, she cleared her throat, and she swung back to face the building. "I'd put three pounds that she's in that room with the barred windows." Faint light streamed through; the bars had stark silhouettes. She drew nearer to the brick wall of the house. "But I can find that out for certain. Anthony, give me a boost." She hauled herself up onto the windowsill of the first window, but she wasn't quite tall enough to peer into the second story, so she jumped back down onto the ground.

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