Against her will, her eyes burned. “I don’t get many of these anymore.”
“Then, we will have to remedy that.”
Hugging her tightly, her father held her close enough that Emmeline could feel his heart beating against her cheek. She suddenly realized how desperately she didn’t want him to leave. Losing her mother had made life’s impermanence dreadfully clear and the battles from the last few weeks had hit that home. She didn’t want to be far from him, but her life was here and his was in Louisiana. He wanted to know her better and have her in his life, and she would make certain she didn’t lose the family she had left.
“I gave Wesley envelopes with our address on it. The moment you want to come, we will have a room made up for you. You’re always welcome with us, Emmeline.”
“Are you staying, Wesley?” Nadir asked.
“For a little while at least. A delegation from Les Meutes is coming next week to discuss what to do with Roulet and any other suspected English werewolves they have on record.”
Silas sighed. “I’m hopeful it will put a stop to the capital punishment. You can’t exactly save someone’s hide and not ask for some compromise.”
“If you need a place to stay now that Papa is leaving, you’re welcome to use my guest room.” Her aunt might not approve, but at this point, she didn’t give a fig. Let her reputation fall to tatters; she didn’t need it anyway. “I won’t force you to spend time with me if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Chuckling, Wesley shook his head and bit at the corner of his bruised lip. “Thank you. I might take you up on that. It would be nice to finally see London now that things have calmed down.”
“We would be happy to show you. There are so many places you ought to see. Theatres, museums, shops. I know a wonderful tailor who could make you a suit that rivals any in America.”
Emmeline let out a bark of laughter at the look of regret on her brother’s face. Only when Nadir clapped him on the shoulder did he finally relax. The corners of their father’s eyes crinkled with quiet joy at seeing his children together. Emmeline still couldn’t shake the image of him as a wolf, powerful and graceful, contrasting with him as the man she first met searching for his son and telling her stories of her mother’s youth. At the porter’s call for the New York bound dirigible, they said their good-byes. Silas pulled Nadir aside for a moment and spoke low enough that Emmeline couldn’t hear. Clasping Nadir’s hand, he held it for a long moment before returning to his children. He embraced each of them before grabbing his bags and disappearing into the hanger without looking back.
“Are you heading into the city?” Wesley asked Emmeline when the dirigible grew small on the horizon.
“No, we have one more stop. I told Price you might be staying with us if you want to get settled. We’ll be back by night fall.”
“Thanks, sis.”
***
For the majority of the drive to Oxford, Emmeline and Nadir sat in silence. Now that they were getting close, it felt like a fool’s errand, but she had to see it one more time. As the ruins of her mother’s house came in to view, the breath caught in her throat. Nadir’s hand gently pressed hers even though his eyes were locked onto the missing chunks of wall and the tattered fabric flickering through an upstairs window. The steamer stopped in front of the portico where the smoke-stained front door still remained shut.
The wind whispered across their cheeks but no birds or animals called as they left the steamer’s warmth. It felt as if they had stepped into a pocket of time where they and Perkins were the only beings alive. Emmeline stared up at her family home. She could still see the carved pumpkins lining the road that night and the way costumes of every color swirled around her. It felt as if that electric energy had been sucked out and replaced with hallowed ground.
“Are you certain you want to do this?” Nadir asked softly.
“Yes, I need to see what’s left. I doubt there’s much I can save, but perhaps there’s something.”
Shoving open the swollen door, Emmeline’s mind reeled at the sensation of déjà vu. She knew this house. She knew the good places to hide, the squeaky steps, yet it no longer was her home. The walls were splotched with black and the windows had blown out during the blaze. The spidery remnants of vines crept along the walls and a small tree had started to grow in the far corner of the parlor. The back rooms were nearly gone, but they didn’t interest her. Emmeline wondered what Nadir thought as he studied a hole in the ceiling and the remains of what she was fairly certain was a piano. Did he see only devastation or could he see her childhood home beneath it?
Carefully climbing the steps, Emmeline listened for the groan of wood snapping beneath her feet, but they held. The rooms at the front of the house were oddly whole. Surely someone had pillaged their jewelry boxes after the fire, but most of the furniture remained. As she passed the door that led to what had been her bedroom, Emmeline stopped Nadir when he reached for the knob.
“We don’t need anything from there.”
Across the hall stood her mother’s room. Emmeline rested her hand on the door. Even with the stench of mold and the remnants of smoke in the air, she expected to open the door and see Mama brushing her hair at the vanity or lying in bed with a book. That would never happen, she firmly reminded herself as Nadir shouldered open the door. Goosebumps rose on Emmeline’s skin. The room looked as it did the night of the Samhain party. Her mother’s perfumes remained on the dresser lined up like soldiers. She pocketed a thin, yellow glass bottle, her mother’s favorite, before heading for the unassuming ottoman in the corner. Lifting it up, she found the familiar loose board. Emmeline yanked it open with a clatter to reveal a small safe. As she bent to inspect it, Emmeline traced the faint outline of arcane symbols carved in the floorboards around it. Something had darkened them a few shades more than the rest of the grain, and she was willing to bet it was blood that had long since washed away.
“Nadir, can you take this to the steamer for me?” Hefting the steel box with a grunt, Nadir staggered back waiting for her. “I’ll be down in a minute. I just want to say goodbye.”
He opened his mouth as if he might protest, but with a solemn nod, he retreated down the steps. When she was certain he was gone, Emmeline pulled the letter from her purse. Tearing open the envelope, she held it in the light with shaking hands. She skimmed each line of Lady Dorset’s efficient hand, her throat tightening until she saw the final verdict.
They would do it. They had spoken with her aunt and uncle, and they had agreed to relinquish guardianship to the Dorsets. Emmeline should have been upset that her own family would have willingly given her up, but she had gotten what she wanted. She would be able to stay in her flat until her majority. She could have screamed with joy, but instead, she schooled her features and returned to the steamer where Nadir waited solemnly with Perkins.
They stood as quiet and respectfully as they would at a funeral. Emmeline resisted the urge to smile as she approached. Nadir watched her warily as if she might burst into tears when she came to stand before him. Motioning for him to lean closer, she waited until he was level with her face to throw her arms around his neck and pull him in for a long, deep kiss. He gasped against her mouth, his lips parting for her in time with her fingers weaving through his hair. His top hat tumbled from his head and by the time they breathlessly parted, Emmeline’s feet were several inches off the ground.
“What was that for?” Nadir asked with a smirk as he carefully lowered her. “Not that I minded.”
She pressed the letter into his hand and kissed him once more. “Our plan worked.”
Skimming the missive, his eyes brightened. A triumphant laugh escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around her and twirled her around until they were both breathless and heady with joy. Nadir rested his cheek against her head, and Emmeline let out a contented sigh.
“I knew you could do it. So what now?”
Looping her arm through Nadir’s, she turned away from the crumbling
house and all the memories attached to it.
“Let’s go home.”
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About the Author
Kara Jorgensen is an anachronistic oddball with a penchant for all things antiquated, morbid, or just plain strange. While in college, she realized she no longer wanted to be Victor Frankenstein but instead wanted to write like Mary Shelley and thus abandoned her future career in science for writing. She melds her passions through her books and received an MFA in Creative and Professional Writing in 2016. When not writing, she can be found hanging out with her dogs watching period dramas or trying to convince her students to cite their sources.
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Also by the Author
The Earl of Brass (IMD #1)
The Gentleman Devil (IMD #2)
“An Oxford Holiday” (An Ingenious Mechanical Devices Companion Short Story #1)
The Earl and the Artificer (IMD #3)
“The Errant Earl” (An Ingenious Mechanical Devices Short Story #2)
Dead Magic (IMD #4)
Selkie Cove (IMD #5)
The Wolf Witch
Act One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Act Two
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Act Three
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thank you for reading!
About the Author
Also by the Author
The Wolf Witch Page 28