Giving his wife a tight hug and a gentle kiss, Roulet said his good-byes and joined them as they clamored into the back of the steamer behind Wesley. When the younger man faltered, Roulet wordlessly gave him a hand and sunk into the seat beside him. The steamer rattled to a start and rolled down the gravel drive. Within moments of moving, Wesley’s eyes shut and he huddled against the wall. The colonel cast him worried looks but said nothing as silence filled the back of the cab. At any moment, Nadir feared they would feel a thump against the side of the steamer and it would go over like a carriage in a penny dreadful. It was foolish to think, but the fear was there in the way all three of them cast glances out the windows at any sign of motion in the forest.
Reaching for the notepad and pencil tucked into his coat, Nadir watched Wesley sleep. He looked awful. It had all happened so fast, he hadn’t even gotten to properly thank him. If he hadn’t heard and come to help, Nadir would have been dead. He didn’t want to imagine Emmeline finding him or her brother like that. If he had stayed in the house, perhaps Gernier wouldn’t have found him, or maybe, it would have been worse. He could have gone into the house and killed them all. Nadir pinched the bridge of his nose. He was getting a stress headache.
“Do you think they’re already in London by now?” Roulet asked, watching the trees pass across the glass.
Nadir tried to remember how long it had taken to get to St. Herve. “Not yet. They didn’t leave that far ahead of us.”
“They’ll breakdown before they reach it,” Wesley murmured sleepily.
“What do you mean?”
Drawing himself up with a wince, a wry smile crossed Wesley’s lips. “Last night, I made a few preparations of my own. I chewed most of the way through the belts on the remaining cars. I assumed they would take them both. I thought about adding something to the steam chamber, but I was afraid they would notice. The belts should blow before they get there.”
“Wesley, that was brilliant.”
“What other preparations did you make?” Emmeline asked, her voice edged but neutral.
He eyed her before answering, “I ran to the nearest town and made up a phony emergency to get them to let me use their telegraph. I told Pa we’re on the way and to wait for us at your house.”
Emmeline’s mouth dropped open, though Nadir couldn’t tell if it was in surprise or anger. “So now he’s at my flat?”
“Is that a problem? I figured you’d rather have him there than making a ruckus at the Interceptors by himself. In case the belts didn’t work, I didn’t want him getting there the same time they did.”
“You think he knows to go?”
“Do you think he hasn’t stuck his nose in it already? We both took off at the same time. He’s not stupid. He knows something is going on.”
Rubbing her temples, Emmeline hissed under her breath. “He’s probably sitting in gaol now.”
“I doubt it. He’s too well-known. He’s probably making a ruckus in someone’s office. That’s what he does when Les Meutes does something stupid.”
“Enough squabbling,” Roulet said sharply. “Haven’t we had enough fighting for one morning? Wesley, save your strength. When we reach Miss Jardine’s home, I want you to stay behind.”
“That isn’t fair. I’m—”
“Barely able to stand. You are in no shape to fight.” Looking every bit the commander, he gave Wesley a stern but not unkind look. “You will remain behind. If your father has any sense, he will suggest the same thing.”
Emmeline and Wesley glared at each other before he turned toward the wall and she unfurled the book on her lap from its wrapping. Nadir eyed Colonel Roulet as he returned to watching the road. Nadir had seen many men who felt sympathy for their comrades in arms or their dear friends. He wondered if Colonel Roulet or Wesley Bisclavret realized the narrow road they walked upon. But that wasn’t his business.
Folding his body toward Emmeline, Nadir leaned closer to get a better look at her grimoire. The book was massive, taking up her lap and falling partly onto his. The smell of parchment and vellum tickled his nose as she let the cover fall open. From the style of drawings, the book was far older than he expected. It was somewhere between the Renaissance’s grasp of anatomy and form and a Medieval stylization. The humanoid beings within were close enough to be familiar, yet the things happening to them and the flat expressions on their faces felt oddly alien. Emmeline carefully flipped between pages. She passed drawings of small lights growing into beacons, self-scrambling messages, a talking skeleton, and a monstrous being appearing from a hole in what looked like the sky. Nadir blanched. He hoped that didn’t foretell what was to come. If he had a say in the matter, he would much prefer the talking skeletons. Flipping faster, she suddenly stopped. Emmeline readjusted her hands and bent close to the tight, antiquated letters. Her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed into a cockeyed squint as she read under her breath. Only when she moved her head down the page did Nadir see the image of a robust man standing beside a shriveled one.
He eyed her warily. She had complained about his involvement with the Interceptors, but how much of her power did he truly know? She could speak to the dead, but somehow he knew there was far more of her waiting to be discovered. No, shown. Emmeline kept her secrets close to her chest. He would know if she chose to let him know. In the meantime, he would prepare for whatever monsters lurked in Emmeline Jardine’s shadow and do his best to keep up.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Penance
By the time they reached London, Wesley was starving. Every inch of his body ached and his limbs shook against his will. He couldn’t help but think how his brother Theo had to deal with a body that could turn against him every day. Now that Wesley had experienced it, even if it paled in comparison to Theo’s predicament, he had a newfound respect for Theo’s ability to keep going about his daily life, even when everything hurt or felt wrong. Wesley was accustomed to sleeping it off and waking up achy but refreshed. Being this injured was frustrating. Sleeping hadn’t helped at all, and he feared stretching or sitting the wrong way would reopen the tenuous scabs and skin barely keeping his flesh together. The colonel was sadly right; he was in no shape to fight.
As the steamer pulled in front of what Wesley assumed was Emmeline’s flat, his heart pounded in his ears. Standing before the door talking quietly with a maid was Silas Bisclavret. He pointed toward the steamer and the maid nodded. Wesley closed his eyes and wished he could turn invisible. His father would be furious with them for leaving and not saying where they were going. He would rail at both of them for being irresponsible and risking their necks for no reason, and worst of all, Wesley knew he deserved it. The moment the steamer stopped, Nadir Talbot swung out of the cab to ask the driver to remove their trunks and then take them to the Inner Temple Gardens. By the time Talbot returned, Silas was entering through the other door.
Wesley instinctively shrunk under his father’s keen gaze, keeping his head low as his eyes roamed over every cut and bruise.
“What the hell happened? You leave for three days and come back looking like you’ve been through a goddamn war. And where the hell were you? You two,” he ordered, pointing his fingers at Wesley and Emmeline, “out. We need to talk.”
Emmeline sat ram-rod straight, her lips pinching to a haughty pout that matched the arrogant cock of her head. “We don’t have time. Get in and sit down. Weargs are going to try to take over the country if we don’t beat them to it.”
For a moment, Silas Bisclavret merely stood with his hand on the door, staring at them. Then, he nodded in understanding and raked a hand down his face. “Are you certain they’re weargs?”
“If they aren’t, they’re still monsters.”
“I killed one in the country, Pa. It wasn’t a wolf.”
Drawing in a long breath, Silas vaulted into the steamer and squeezed between Wesley and Colonel Roulet. As the cab jerked forward, Silas’s nose twitched toward Roulet. The colonel sat perfectly still with his head down
as the other man sniffed the air and regarded him with a furrowed brow.
“An English werewolf. I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Silas drawled.
A hopeful but brittle smile crossed Roulet’s lips. “I doubt I’m the only one of my kind, and your son has helped me tremendously these past few days. I owe you a debt of gratitude for raising such a man.”
Heat rose in Wesley’s cheeks as he hunkered down further into his coat.
“Wesley knows the importance of a pack, family or found. You are welcome to come visit us in Louisiana if you want to meet some other wolves, but you may want to start building a pack here. All it takes is one person to step from the shadows for others to find their way.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bisclavret. If we survive this, I would love to ask you some questions.”
“I’ll answer them as best as I can.” Silas’s features darkened as the carriage swayed and chugged down the cobbled pavement, slowing as they traveled deeper into the knot of the city. “Now, will either of you tell me what’s happened or am I going to have to guess why we’re headed toward the Interceptors?”
***
Between the four of them, they managed to tell Silas Bisclavret what happened at St. Herve. When Emmeline spoke of Mr. Doughty’s murder, Colonel Roulet paled and looked to Wesley, but he appeared to have fallen asleep. With each revelation, Silas grew quieter and his countenance more stern. The hard lines around his eyes deepened as the energy around him flickered fitfully. The entire story sounded far worse when said aloud. Two murders, two attempted murders, and two weargs and a sorcerer headed for London. What did they have? Three wolves, a man with a sword, and a girl who could speak to ghosts. Emmeline rubbed at the aching tension in her cheeks and temples. She was so tired, yet when she had the opportunity to close her eyes, all she did was think.
“I wish you had contacted me sooner. I could have sent for Les Meutes.”
“What good would they do? They wouldn’t have gotten here in time.”
“Someone from the French branch could have come. It would have added a little more legitimacy to your claims. Do you think the Interceptors will believe you?”
Emmeline sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. They’re distrustful of me, and I doubt they want to hear anything a werewolf has to say.”
“They might listen to me,” Nadir added. “I gathered information for them for a brief time. I’m an outsider to all of this, and I’m not nearly interesting as the rest of you. Besides, I have no stake in this fight.”
“Except you’re partnered up with Emmeline,” Silas replied with a raised eyebrow as he looked from his daughter to Nadir.
Sputtering, Emmeline waved off the idea. “He is not. Besides, they don’t know any of that, and I would ask that you keep your nose out of my business, Father.”
When Emmeline looked up, Silas was shrugging and Nadir looked stricken yet resigned. Emmeline cursed herself. “That’s not what I mean, Nadir! Just… just not now. I can’t think of that now.”
“So you really aren’t his wolf witch?” Roulet asked slowly.
“Mr. Talbot isn’t a wolf. It was a ruse to keep the others from killing him.”
Silas eyed his daughter as if trying to read her magic. “But are you a wolf witch?”
“I— I don’t know.”
Wesley opened one eye as if to say something before turning to the window and closing his eyes again. He knew. She had ordered him to change, and he had been pulled from wolf form against his will. She hadn’t realized it at first, but that must have been why he was so mad at her when he shifted.
“I am one.” Emmeline’s heart raced as they turned down the road and the familiar greenery surrounding the Inner Temple Gardens came into view. “Father, are weargs wolves?”
“Bastardizations of them. You have to have wolf blood to become one, or at least that’s how I read it.”
Her voice sounded far away and ragged in her ears. “And how do you become one?”
“I’m not certain. Most books aren’t specific for a reason. Like most magic, I would assume you need a focus, like a talisman, and a sacrifice. Monstrous things usually require blood. Why?”
“I don’t know yet, but Nadir and I will do the talking when we arrive. If anyone is to wind up in gaol, it’s us. I need the rest of you on the outside if trouble starts. Do you understand?”
While Colonel Roulet didn’t look pleased, he assented when Silas gave her a solemn nod.
“I’m coming with you,” Wesley added, slowly straightening. “I’m not allowed to fight, so I can at least talk, right? Remember, I saw the wearg up close. I can answer questions.”
“Fine, but don’t say anything stupid.”
Wesley rolled his eyes, but when the steamer came to a stop, he climbed out first. Emmeline and Nadir walked ahead of him, heading for the inconspicuous door that led to the anthill that was Interceptors Headquarters. Releasing a tense breath, Emmeline looked across the sweeping lawn behind them. Despite the cold drizzle, the grounds were peaceful. Perhaps they had arrived in time. Emmeline drew herself up as Nadir knocked and presented his papers to the guard at the door. The man looked over Nadir’s shoulder at Emmeline and Wesley with narrowed eyes.
“We need to speak to someone urgently,” Nadir added when the man looked as if he might shut the door in their faces.
Huffing, Emmeline pushed past them. “I am going to speak to Miss Elliot. She should be expecting me. Don’t worry, I know the way.”
Before the man could let out more than a startled noise, they were hurrying for the steps. The winding stairs and alternating marble always dizzied Emmeline, especially when her mind tried to rationalize the size of the exterior with what she was seeing now. Interceptors passed them, casting strange glances as Wesley’s battered face or disdained looks at Emmeline, but she didn’t care. Reaching the uppermost landing, Emmeline paused to catch her breath and release the tension in her calves before approaching the door. She had to maintain composure if this was to work. She couldn’t come in looking like a mad woman. Patting her fraying hair, she turned to tidy Wesley’s clothing. Guilt welled in her once more at his uncharacteristically ashen skin and the shallowness of his breaths. It quickly ebbed when he swatted her hands away with a petulant frown.
“What have I done to deserve this visit, Miss Jardine?”
Emmeline snapped her head toward Judith Elliot’s voice. She stood in the doorway to her office, her clothing treading the line between masculine and feminine with a flare toward militaristic. With a curt nod of her blonde head, she herded them into her office and shut the door with a frown.
“Sit.”
Wesley sank into the hard wooden chair with a relieved sigh. If only she could feel so calm in that office. Somehow Emmeline had expected Wesley to be upset at being back at Interceptors Headquarters. She had been held for questioning there in far more friendly circumstances than he had and she could barely lower herself into the chair. It reminded her too much of sitting beside Immanuel Winter and Adam Fenice, tears for Lord Hale still scalding her eyes. His final kiss still lingered on her lips while the image of his final moments burned into her mind’s eye. Sitting straighter, Emmeline felt the comforting weight of Nadir’s hand on her shoulder.
Judith shook her head and paced to the window before turning back to them with her arms folded across her breast. “Do you like making waves, Miss Jardine? You know how people here felt about you before, and after the stunt with Mr. Bisclavret, it’s far worse. Are you trying to get arrested again? They don’t need much provocation at this point.”
Emmeline stared the other woman down, or up, since Miss Elliot stood several inches taller than her. “Fine, then we’ll leave, but they will wish you listened when they get here.”
“When who gets here?” Elliot’s annoyance faltered into curiosity against her will.
Wesley elbowed Emmeline as the smell of tea and coffee floated down the hall. She frowned at him and asked, “Can we at least get a
tea tray and food for my brother before we continue?”
“Are you joking?”
“I don’t think we’re close enough for that, are we?”
Sticking her head out the door, Judith returned with a pot and cups from the cart. She reached into a cabinet and pulled out a tin of biscuits. “This had better be good, Miss Jardine. I was saving these.”
Grasping the pot with shaking hands, Wesley poured them each a cup before downing his own in one long gulp and immediately refilling it. Emmeline glared at him as he stuffed two biscuits stacked one atop the other into his mouth. Behind her, Nadir stifled a laugh.
“I think it is worth the sacrifice,” Emmeline said primly as if nothing were amiss. “You have a traitor in your midst. One of your Interceptors has joined forces with weargs and wants to overthrow you and the entire government. They’re headed back here as we speak.”
“You can’t let David Elsworth back in,” Nadir said softly.
Elliot cocked a blonde brow. “Elsworth? If this has to do with werewolves, he isn’t one. I don’t think they hire those with an undesirable lineage.”
At that, Wesley piled the remaining biscuits into a handkerchief and put them in his pocket.
“I never said he was a werewolf. He’s working with people who think they’re becoming werewolves, but they’re really being turned into weargs.”
When Miss Elliot shook her head, Wesley rolled his eyes and said, “Weargs. Big scary wolf things that want to gut people. The ‘not-wolves’ I told your detective about when y’all arrested me. Does that ring any bells?”
“As I’ve said before, creatures are not my specialty. Let me go find someone who knows what the devil this is about.” Reaching the door, she turned back to give them a stern look. “Don’t leave and don’t move until I come back.”
The moment Miss Elliot was out the door, Wesley shook his head as he hesitantly rose from his seat. He released a stifled groan as he rounded the desk to inspect the naginata hanging behind the door on a hook.
The Wolf Witch Page 24