Smiling lightly, he averted his eyes then turned back to his work.
My heart thundered in my chest, and a hundred inappropriate thoughts raced through my mind. It took every ounce of me to remind myself that I was attached to Edwin Hunter and that I liked Bryony Paxton.
Lionheart rose and sat down at the foot of my bed. He handed the vambrace to me then studied my face as he pulled off the gloves.
As I met his eyes, I realized that there was a ring of grey around his blue irises, a small scar by his eyebrow. If one didn’t know better, if one didn’t realize, he would seem entirely human. In truth, he had been. He was just different now.
Lionheart reached out and gently stroked my long hair, pushing it behind my shoulder which he touched lightly.
My heart beat hard.
“That’s a very nice dress,” he said, looking briefly over his shoulder at the gown hanging there. “Going somewhere?”
“Just an outing.”
“With?”
“With someone. You’re distracting me.”
“From what?”
“From the fact that I’m angry with you.”
“Are you? I always thought you looked like you could use a little distraction, Agent Louvel.”
“Perhaps, but I like to choose what I’m distracted by.”
“And?”
“And I maintain that letting you distract me is a terrible idea.”
“But you are very distracting. And this mix of gardenia oil and your lovely rosy scent is more distracting than I care to admit.”
I swallowed hard, ignoring the image of me pulling Lionheart down on top of me, the thoughts of my tongue roving around his mouth, and the feel of him between my legs.
Hell’s bells, Clemeny. Get yourself together.
“Then, perhaps, you shouldn’t come crawling through my window.”
“I didn’t. I came in through the front door.”
“Good lord, I hope Missus Coleridge didn’t see you.”
Lionheart huffed a laugh. “I sneaked past a Saracen camp once. I think I can get around Missus Coleridge.”
I gave him a wry grin. “Good. Now, before something regrettable happens, tell me why you’re here.”
“I owe you an explanation.”
“Yes, you do.”
Lionheart sighed. “My pack is unhappy.”
“Why?”
“Because they don’t want to marshal the realm. They want to continue to do their work uninterrupted by nonsense.”
“Nonsense like the return of Fenton and Cyril’s old dogs?”
“Yes.”
“And Alodie up to…something?”
“Indeed.”
“They do know they are still under a mandate from the Queen.”
“They do, but they are not happy about it. And honestly, neither am I. I am also…distracted.”
There was that word again. “By?”
“Bryony…”
Ah. My stomach twisted into a hard, jealous knot. To my surprise, my brow flexed with annoyance. I did like her. I did. It’s just…
“With Alodie plotting, I’m concerned. I don’t want anything to happen to her. Bryony is an innocent in all this…mess,” Lionheart said.
His words hung heavy in the air between us. It was no business of mine that his heart was set on her. And Lionheart’s distance had allowed me to set aside my unspoken, unwanted, and confusing feelings for him. In that space, Edwin had filled my heart. And I liked Bryony. I did. I do. I just… But this time, I realized a truth. Sir Richard Spencer also felt this strange struggle when it came to me. That was why this big, bad wolf was such a terrible temptation. That was also why he was here, at least in part.
“I see,” I said, forcing out the words.
“I… I had a family once, very long ago. My wife and son perished while I was with King Richard. They died in a fire. I wasn’t there. I did nothing to protect them. They too were innocents. They died while I was away doing the bidding of my monarch. And then God saw fit to turn me into this,” he said, a tinge of angry disgust in his voice. “I can’t let something happen to Bryony because of me. Do you understand?”
“I do, but stepping down or pulling back won’t help. If anything, now is the time to show this realm you are the alpha. Alodie is a sneak, and she is plotting something. We need to stop her before she gets whatever plan she has underway. You must show them all once and for all that if they trifle with you, there will be a reckoning.”
“Or, I need to cut a deal.”
“Do you think Cyril’s old dogs will let you back away? You know better, Richard. And that’s beneath you. They will come for you all the same.”
“Not if I’m gone. Not if I leave things to Sir Blackwood.”
“Then they will come for your brothers instead. I know you won’t allow that either. The Templars must show they rein control. If you don’t, there will be chaos. You aren’t thinking clearly.”
Lionheart looked up at me again from under that lock of hair. There was a vulnerability in his expression which I had never seen before. His eyes danced across me. “Clearly not.”
I smirked. “Stop that. You already have enough relational troubles. Maybe being a knight cost you in the past—and I am truly sorry for it—but now you need to be the knight you are. This is no time to retreat. I know your brothers would rather be buried in books, but the Dís said it well. Until you show your teeth, they will test you.”
“The Dís? You spoke with the Dís?”
I nodded.
“I didn’t know she was awake this year.”
“That she is.”
“And she speaks to you?”
I shrugged.
Lionheart huffed. “Interesting. Have you gone to the summer country, as I advised you?”
“I’m too busy cleaning up your messes.”
Lionheart grinned then rose. He went to the window and looked out. “Nice view of the factory. Why do you live here, of all places?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Perhaps. But this place? Why?”
“The river throws off my scent. I don’t want anyone finding their way to my grand-mère ever again.”
“You’d be safer on holy ground.”
“Well, if I see a chapel come up on the market, I’ll be sure to buy it. Enough avoiding the point. What are you going to do?”
“I’ll do as you suggest, on one condition,” he said then turned. He crossed the room and stood in front of the gown hanging on the door to my wardrobe. It was a pretty dress, pale blue with lace at the bodice.
“Yes?” I replied, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I want to see you in this. Though, I admit, red is a better color on you.”
“Very funny. I was about to pack it away again.”
Lionheart held the silk skirt in his hand, letting the fabric slide through his fingers. Once more, part of me that had no business thinking of him like that trembled.
“No, you should wear it,” Lionheart said softly. “I’d very much like to see you in it.”
I willed the butterflies in my stomach be still. “You’ll rally the brothers and help me snuff out this mess?”
“Yes.”
“All right. We have a deal.”
At that, Lionheart smirked. “Good,” he said then went to the door. He unlocked it then turned the handle so gently I didn’t even hear a click. “Don’t forget to lock it behind me. Never know what kind of monsters might be lurking about.”
I grinned. “Goodbye, Sir Richard.”
“Goodbye, Agent Louvel.”
After Lionheart left, I slipped out of bed and went to the door, locking it once more. I listened for any sound of his footsteps on the stairs or in the hallway, but there was nothing. He really was bloody quiet. And complicated. And handsome. And very dangerous for me. I closed my eyes, a guilty feeling sweeping over me. Lionheart was a vexing, wolfy distraction. And one I didn’t need. I had Edwin now. Lionheart was just…a pro
blem. Right now, what we needed was to keep the realm in order. Right now, I need to stop Alodie. I also need to do my part in keeping Bryony safe—which included not getting into any indiscretions with her man. A twist of jealousy stabbed me.
I sighed.
Putting my feelings aside—but leaving the gown hanging outside the wardrobe all the same—I went to get redressed. I grinned as I glanced down at my perfectly polished gear. Time to get back to work.
Chapter 7: The Dark District
Navigating the dark district was not a task any Red Cape ever looked forward to. For one, just about every bad thing that lurked in the realm lived there. From indifferent to downright hostile, the preternaturals living there had little use for us. Those humans who traveled through these zones did so unknowingly, for the most part. The supernatural had always existed in our world, but they had worked hard to keep their true nature secret. If there was one thing that was universally true of mankind, humans did not like anyone who was an other. From vampire to werewolf to goblin, there were plenty of others living amongst us. Wisely, they had let the truth of their natures become the thing of fairy tales. Honestly, I didn’t blame them for keeping their natures secret.
My senses on full alert, I entered the dark district. The alleyway was so narrow, the peaks of the medieval buildings leaning so close together, that you could barely tell it was daytime. My boots clicked softly on the cobblestone. The gas lamps here were still lit, but they were spaced far apart and cast weak shadows. I kept my head down and made my way into the dark district. Since her brothel closed, Alodie and her pack had retreated into the dark zone. Now I had to go figure out what she was doing.
I could feel eyes watching me from the darkened windows. A goblin wearing a heavy cloak sat in an alcove drinking. The heady scent of alcohol surrounding him burned my nose. He cast me a passing glance.
“Better take off that cloak, Agent,” he said with a laugh. “Looks more like a bullseye.”
I frowned at him and turned the corner. I didn’t like his words, but he was right. Passing a rail thin woman who stopped and stared at me, her black eyes tracing my every step as she tittered madly. Dammit. Even if I found Alodie, everyone in the district would be whispering that I was there before I could get a look at what she was doing. I scanned the nearby buildings. There was a stack of crates sitting in the alley. At their peak, the buildings almost touched one another. Moving quickly, I climbed up the heap of boxes then scaled the side of the building, moving from one jutting stone to another, scaling the side of the building. Grabbing the roof peak, I pulled myself up onto the rooftop. My heart beat hard from the exertion. Clapping off my hands, I eyed the roofs of the dark district. Now I was on common ground. Turning, I headed across the rooftops to the building where Alodie was rumored to have taken up residence.
The hair on my scalp rose, the bottom of my feet and palms tingling, as I worked my way through the district. Scanning with my mooneye, I had to blink hard when my good eye spotted an empty street, yet my mooneye distinctly saw the shape of a woman moving down the lane. I could only make out her silhouette in the field of white, the shapes of the buildings looming around her. She wore a black dress and twirled a parasol. She was there and not there. I watched as the phantom turned the corner.
Wonderful. The last thing I needed was to tangle with a demon, specter, or some other unholy thing I knew nothing about how to handle. An elemental and an exploding vampire had been quite enough for this week already. And then there was the emotionally conflicted werewolf who was toying with my heart. The fact that Lionheart had once had a family whom he’d loved and lost moved me. But I needed to focus on the job, not on Lionheart’s personal dilemmas. I had enough of my own.
With the phantom gone, I took a running jump and leaped across the alleyway, following the street to the spot where Alodie had been seen. The block where she’d taken up residence looked to be her regular speed. I noted a tavern, an opium den, and a brothel—but not her brothel.
I moved between the gables until I found a spot to hide with a good eye on the werewolf’s new lair. Alodie’s auto was parked outside a gaming house. Gambling was not much of an improvement over a brothel, but at least her work was now vertical. Pulling out my spyglass, I scanned the building. There were two werewolves guarding the door. They checked visitors entering the gaming house, including a group of drunk airship pirates. I eyed them over. Not Skollson’s crew, thank god. Skollson had gone limping back to Oslo and hadn’t been heard from since. So far, at least. No, these unfortunate souls appeared to be human.
The wolves were both heavily armed. One I recognized as part of Fenton’s old pack. The other was a stranger. I panned my spyglass on the windows, looking past the curtains inside. People were playing cards at gaming tables, rolling dice, drinking, and smoking tobacco. No sign of Alodie or her girls. Her auto was there, so she was likely inside, but I didn’t see her. I sighed. I really didn’t want to be here after dark, but for now, I had to wait.
It was nearly dusk when I decided it was time to get the hell out of there. For all I knew, only Alodie’s auto was there. There was no sign of the wolf. And as it was, my mooneye had spotted at least four more phantoms, some unidentifiable creature who sped faster than the common eye could detect, at least one vampire—and it was not my week for vampires—and what might have been a succubus. Alongside them, some of London’s common criminals came and went like there was nothing abundantly wrong with this part of town. How could such clever operators be so blind?
I was just gathering up my things when the door to the gaming house opened. Alodie emerged with two of her girls and two more werewolves, both of which had served Fenton. Hell’s bells, almost a dozen, if not more, of the old pack had returned.
“Tomorrow night,” Alodie told Antoinette, her direct subordinate. “Seven o’clock sharp.”
Antoinette nodded. “I’ll see to it.”
Alodie kissed the she-wolf on both cheeks, then Antoinette and the others slipped into the auto and drove off. Alodie turned and headed down the street back toward the city.
Slipping my spyglass onto my belt, I turned and went after her.
Chapter 8: Alodie
I followed Alodie who turned down alley after alley. She traveled the length of the dark district and back into the city again. It wasn’t long before she approached a modest looking townhouse in an otherwise unremarkable neighborhood. The only thing that distinguished the place was the expensive auto sitting outside. Fluffing her hair, Alodie went to the door and knocked. After a few moments, a man appeared. He quickly ushered the she-wolf inside. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t get a proper look at him. Maneuvering until I got a good spot for surveillance on the rooftop opposite the building Alodie had entered, I pulled out my spyglass and panned the windows.
I caught the faint sound of a paleophone, and could just make out the undertones of voices. A few moments later, a lamp sparked to life in an upper floor, causing the room to glow orange. Not long after, the man passed the window as he pulled off his shirt. I heard Alodie’s soft laugh.
The lamp dimmed. While I couldn’t see what was happening, not long after, I caught the faint sound of, um, acrobatics.
I frowned. That was fast. But what in God’s name was Alodie doing with a human?
I scanned the street. It was surprisingly quiet.
Slipping back down to the street, I quietly opened the door of the auto and slipped inside. The machine was remarkably clean. I checked all the compartments, finding nothing telling. Reaching under the bench, however, I pulled out a case. Clicking it open, I flipped through the papers inside, all of which were addressed to a gentleman by the name of Phillip Phillips.
I chuckled softly. Mr. Phillips had some creative parents.
I scanned the documents. From what I could tell, a company by the name of The Yowie Corporation was seeking to buy out Phillip Phillips’ Australian Trading Company, an airship merchant company based out of Sydney. I scanned through the
documents, most of which were financial in nature. I also found travel documents in the case, as well as some letters to Mr. Phillips from The Yowie Corporation. One was dated almost a month back. In it, it outlined meetings between The Yowie Corporation’s London representative, Alodie Wolfe—seriously, Alodie?—and Mr. Phillips. The itinerary noted several dinners, a show at the Adelphi dated a week back, and other entertainments Miss Wolfe would provide Mr. Phillips.
Pulling out my journal, I noted down all the essential details, including Mr. Phillips’ agenda for the rest of his stay in London. I then slipped the papers back in the case and under the seat once more. I climbed quietly out of the car and turned and headed back into the city.
So, a few things were becoming evident.
The Yowie Corporation was a front to get Fenton and Cyril’s old dogs back into London. Buying a trading company gave them easy access back into the realm and money to boot. It hardly seemed like the kind of plan the old gang could concoct on their own. Alodie, however, was another matter. There was a reason she had survived Cyril’s rein and managed to keep the peace with the Red Capes. She was smart and cunning, a terrible match.
But what was Alodie playing at? The realm had always been ruled by male alphas. Was Alodie planning a matriarchy? And how was all this tied to the American West? What, besides nocturnal acrobatics, was Alodie up to? And why was she playing that card anyway?
I pulled out my pocket watch and looked at the time. It was nearly two in the morning. I was supposed to meet Edwin to make a mid-morning trip to Twickenham to visit Quinn and Jessica. Quinn, as much my protector as ever, had insisted that he get to know Edwin. While Grand-mère had given Edwin her approval almost immediately—a fact which raised my suspicions as to why Agent Greystock suggested Edwin for the job—Quinn would be far more cautious.
I looked over my notes. Phillip Phillips was scheduled to take a tour of the British Museum tomorrow afternoon. I needed to get a look at him, to determine if he was a werewolf, and try to get a sense of what Alodie was plotting. Maybe Edwin would be willing to join me for a tour of the museum. That was something real couples did, wasn’t it? We’d be just another pair taking in the art. What was the harm in that? Now I just needed to convince Edwin to turn our romantic outing into an opportunity to hunt werewolves.
Bitches and Brawlers_A Steampunk Fairy Tale Page 4