The Friday Society by Adrienne Kress

She’d got turned around somehow.
    She needed to get back upstairs soon. She didn’t want the Magician to worry, plus he’d promised she’d get to take a cab home, and she didn’t want to miss out on the chance. She turned back the way she’d come.
    “Hello, there.”
    Standing in her path was a footman, some young guy who looked like all the other footmen.
    “Hiya,” replied Nellie, walking forward. He took a step to the side to block her way. Nice.
    “Ain’t you pretty.”
    Nellie sighed. “Uh, thanks.” She kept her eyes lowered.
    “Tomorrow’s my day off.”
    Nellie was starting to feel uncomfortable. It was creepy standing alone in a strange hallway with this guy. “Good for you.”
    He took a step toward her, and she took a step back.
    “Come to the pub with me.”
    “No, thank you.”
    “No?”
    “I’m . . . busy tomorrow.”
    The footman reached up to push a stray curl away from her cheek. It made her flinch. He started to laugh. “You scared of me?”
    Yes . “No.”
    He laughed some more. And took a step closer. Nellie found her back against the wall. How’d she get turned around like that? Her heart was racing, and she could feel herself start to panic. The footman could obviously sense this.
    “Hey, just sayin’ you’re sweet. Ain’t nothin’ to be all fussed about.”
    “I know. But could you back off?”
    The footman smiled. “I think you like it.”
    “I think I don’t.”
    “I think you do.”
    “No. I really don’t think she does,” said another voice. And then the footman got it—right across the kisser.
    * * *
    C ORA HAD ESCAPED from the din of small talk by hastening down the servants’ staircase, much to her relief. Okay, sure, several servants she’d passed had given her some pretty filthy looks, but Cora really didn’t care. All that mattered was that she wasn’t upstairs anymore.
    The downstairs was considerably larger than it was at Lord White’s, though probably that had something to do with a secret lab taking up most of the space at his place. She thought it was interesting, the difference between the atmospheres in homes. Even in the servants’ part of this house, there was a general air of superiority.
    She’d made her way down the wide hall toward a narrower one that branched to the left when she heard voices. Normally she’d try to avoid any voices that were emanating from around corners, but there was a quality to this conversation, combined with a strange shuffling sound, that made Cora curious. She took a moment to steady herself and then turned the corner. One of the footmen had the Magician’s assistant backed up against the wall. The girl looked really scared. Who could blame her? What a sleaze.
    Cora didn’t know why, but seeing this footman attempting to take advantage of the assistant made Cora’s blood boil.
    “I know. But could you back off?” the assistant was saying.
    “I think you like it,” replied the footman,
    “I think I don’t.”
    “I think you do.”
    Cora approached the footman from behind. “No. I really don’t think she does.” He turned in surprise at the new voice, and she punched him in the face.
    “Bugger and hell!” she said, holding on to her fist. She’d never punched anyone before, and prior to this moment, the concept that her hand might hurt as much as his face had not occurred to her.
    The footman massaged his jaw for a second, looking at her in total shock. Cora backed off slightly as he walked toward her. Oh shit . Then he struck her, palm open, across her cheek. Now, that was a feeling she was very familiar with, from her days on the street.
    “You arse!” This time he turned back to look at the assistant, who kneed him in the groin. Quite firmly. So firmly that he let out a high-pitched squeal, much like a mouse might do if it had been squashed underfoot. He doubled over.
    Cora was about to express her gratitude when the Magician’s assistant kicked her leg up high and then brought her