Demon in the Machine

by Lise MacTague

  The action was completely undignified and Isabella couldn’t help but smile for seeing it. “You’ve awakened a lot of emotions in me.”

  “I could feel that.” Briar met Isabella’s smile with one of her own. “It was rather chaotic, but I think I understand.”

  “So you don’t think I’m under an enchantment?”

  “I’m not sure why you feel so strongly about me, but it’s too messy to be magic.”

  “It may not be magic, but it is magical.” Isabella leaned forward and pressed her lips to the bone behind Briar’s ear. She inhaled Briar’s scent before pulling back. Could she smell any better?

  Briar laughed. “You are ridiculous, Isabella Castel.” She took Isabella’s hands and brought her arms up. Isabella enfolded her in an embrace, marveling at how Briar relaxed against her. To think she’d wondered if this woman ever unbent. She’d never imagined that she would do so in her arms.

  “Maybe I am, but it’s the truth.” Isabella squeezed Briar firmly for a moment. “But don’t think you can distract me with compliments. What did your mother mean? And why do you look so…flat?”

  When Briar’s shoulders stiffened, Isabella tightened her grip and sent soothing thoughts her way. Briar could trust her.

  “It’s the magic I’ve been performing. It takes a lot of energy, energy that is difficult to replenish here. I had to use my own energy, instead of that of another. Translation of demonic energy in this world can be taxing, especially in large amounts.” She shrugged against Isabella’s hug. “All I need is time.”

  “A month’s convalescence in bed doesn’t sound very fun. I can think of better ways to spend that time in bed with you.”

  “She exaggerates. My mother is good at that.”

  “Maybe so, but you don’t look like quite right. Not like your real self. What did she mean when she said you could replenish yourself.”

  “Absolutely not. I won’t use you or anyone else that way.” Briar shed Isabella’s arms and started unbuttoning the front of her coveralls.

  “Which way is that?”

  “Pleasure or pain. My dearest mother sees nothing wrong with using another person for sex to feed her magic. The other option is to exploit someone else’s pain. It doesn’t matter if it’s physical or emotional. It’s one of the reasons she likes humans so well. She gains a lot of power from infatuating them, then breaking their hearts. She feeds very well on humanity.”

  “Oh.” That hadn’t been what Isabella had expected. She’d thought maybe a posset or a draught, possibly involving animal blood or some such. “I don’t mind if you feed on my pleasure. There’s a lot of it when I’m with you.”

  “There is nothing to discuss, Isabella.” Briar got up and crossed the room to Isabella’s trunk. She opened the lid and started pulling out gowns. “I won’t feed from you. I am not my mother and I won’t treat somebody else as a—a canapé. I shall be quite well, never fear. Do you mind if I wear this one?” She held up a teal gown with a high neckline. It was a recent acquisition, one purchased after Isabella had passed off Millie’s necklace to be fenced.

  “I don’t mind.” Isabella meant it as an answer to both of Briar’s statements, but of course Briar took it only to mean about the dress. She stepped forward when Briar turned and did up the multitude of small buttons down her back. She would much rather have been pulling the dress off. The memory of the sound of buttons hitting the stone floor left her fumble-fingered on the last of the ridiculously small fasteners.

  The two deep scores on Briar’s back had closed and seemed to be healing, though one was red and puffy. Isabella made a note to do something about that presently, but she was aware of her parents waiting for them. It wouldn’t be long before someone came to fetch them. She started pulling underthings out of the trunk. When she had everything out, she turned away from Briar to get changed, not because she was embarrassed, but because she knew where her thoughts would go if she was naked and looking at Briar.

  “I shall have to take another look at your wounds,” Briar said, “especially the new ones. They should be cleaned and bandaged.”

  “I cleaned them out as best I could while we traveled. Your own wounds need tending.”

  “Those accursed imps. There is not much filthier in either of our realms than an imp.”

  Isabella pulled on a brassiere and girdle. There was no one from polite society there and she would be damned if she would wear a corset when there was no need. Those were followed by stockings and a chemise. She sneaked a glance back at Briar. Their eyes met. Briar had been staring. She blushed and looked away when Isabella caught her. A wide grin spread across Isabella’s face. Maybe being stuck here wouldn’t be so bad. They simply needed to make sure they weren’t interrupted by her parents. With no other distractions, Isabella doubted it would be too difficult to get her parents distracted by each other. If they survived the explanations.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Would she rather have had another discussion with her mother or be heading down the stairs to try to explain the past few days’ events to Isabella’s parents? Briar didn’t have to contemplate that question for more than a few seconds. As painful as this promised to be, it was nothing compared to being spoken to by Carnélie.

  Without talking about it, they paused in the hall. Isabella transferred the candle to her other hand, then reached out and took Briar’s hand for a quick moment. She had her gloves on again, but Briar found she rather missed the flood of emotions she felt when Isabella touched her bare skin. They shared a quick smile. Briar tugged at her waist, trying to smooth out some of the wrinkles the dress had acquired while stored in the trunk.

  “There you are,” Althea said when they entered the parlor. She was still in the chair, but Joseph sat on the floor in front of her, leaning back against her legs. “I thought perhaps you’d gotten lost.”

  “Sorry, Mother.” An embarrassed flush tinged Isabella’s cheekbones. Althea shot Briar a sharp look.

  “We came as quickly as was possible under the circumstances.” Briar wasn’t about to enlighten them about her mother’s visit. It must have taken a serious amount of power to track her to an unmarked mirror. Carnélie had been concerned, which was odd since her mother had not one maternal bone in her body. She did care greatly, however, about bettering the family’s assets. As a succubus, she could and did read the body language of others with an ease that bordered upon telepathy, but she didn’t have Briar’s unique ability to read inanimate objects. Likely Carnélie was only worried about losing Briar before this trait could be bred into the bloodline.

  “I see.” When Briar didn’t elaborate, Althea focused her oppressive stare back on her daughter. “Then perhaps you’d like to explain why we were forced to leave our perfectly comfortable home in London for this drafty monstrosity?”

  “It’s a bit of a story,” Isabella said. “Perhaps Father would like to go to bed? You can appraise him of our discussion tomorrow.”

  Joseph’s chuckle was dry and devoid of humor. “Thank you for the concern, Izzy. I’m sure you have nothing else but my continued good health at heart with that suggestion.”

  “You have been up all day, my dear,” Althea said, placing her hands on his shoulders and rubbing gently. “You rose much earlier than I.”

  His face grew thoughtful and he stood up. The fireplace was the length of three of Joseph Castel’s strides. He paced those steps off twice, hands clasped behind his back. “When my wife and my daughter both request my presence elsewhere, I find that my curiosity is piqued all the more. I shall remain.” He stopped at one end of the mantel and captured some flame on a piece of kindling, then held it to his pipe. The smell of sweet tobacco filled the room.

  This was it. Briar arranged herself on one of the couches Patterson had uncovered for their use. He must have swept in here while she and Isabella had been upstairs. The soot was gone from the floor along with the thick layer of dust. The couch was a strategic decision. Despite her words to Isabella, she
was feeling the effects of her magical over-exertion. The couch would support her without betraying her weakness.

  Isabella perched herself on the arm next to Briar. She took a deep breath and looked from her mother to her father, then exhaled. Briar jumped into the breach left by her hesitation.

  “It all started with my first ride in the Earl of Hardwicke’s new Mirabilia horseless carriage. I found I couldn’t abide to be in it and wondered why. I engaged Isabella’s help to determine what was awry with the carriage.”

  “We know that much already,” Joseph said. He puffed busily at his pipe. “Isabella and I helped you with the engine removal. It’s a fascinating piece of machinery. Or more accurately non-machinery. J.P. says it contains some alchemical components, which is unusual.”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Briar said. “While it isn’t unusual to find machinery augmented by infernal magic or locations amplified by aethereal magic, I thought alchemy was dismissed by modern magicians.”

  “As did I. I know of only a few alchemical texts still in existence. Once they realized the quest to turn lead into gold wasn’t only impossible, but ill-advised, alchemy fell out of favor. That was almost two hundred years ago.”

  “About the same time infernal magic went on the rise.”

  “And about the time aethereal magic began to decline.”

  “That can be argued. Aethereal magic has been in much more widespread use for millennia, but most people these days simply call it religion.”

  Joseph withdrew the pipe from his mouth and used it to point at Briar. “I don’t think you can make that argument. There’s no real evidence that aethereal magic and religion have much in common.”

  Briar couldn’t believe her ears. Here she was being lectured on the magic of the planes by a human, one who—as far as she could tell—could perceive neither infernal nor aethereal energy. “The forms are all there,” she said. “Consider the words and the ritual of worship. The architecture of the great cathedrals are all designed for the transfer of aethereal energy.”

  “Dearest,” Althea said. “We are perhaps straying from the discussion at hand?”

  “Quite.” He nodded at Briar. “We’ll continue the other topic later. Please continue.”

  “Very well.” She balled her hands into fists on her lap. This was the difficult part. Joseph knew about infernal magic—his partner practiced it extensively in the course of their inventions—so Althea likely did also. How much did he know, and how much could she avoid giving away while still satisfying their curiosity?

  “After seeing that the engine was designed to use almost exclusively what you’d term ‘demoniac’ energy, I knew I had to read the grimoire of the person who invented the engine. We tracked down the Mirabilia factory and Isabella broke in to purloin the book.” Was purloin the right term? It sounded more criminal than it had felt before she said the word out loud.

  Isabella now found herself the target of her parents’ combined attention.

  “Isabella, we talked about this,” Althea said furiously.

  “Why would Izzy be sneaking into someone’s factory to steal something?” Joseph wanted to know. It took him a moment to register his wife’s words. “Thea, you didn’t!”

  “Joseph, darling, you will cause yourself apoplexy if you don’t calm yourself.”

  Althea might be right, Briar thought. Lord Sherard puffed at his pipe with such intensity that smoke wreathed his head in a small cloud. His face grew redder at his wife’s words.

  “Isabella, did your mother instruct you in the skills of a thief?” he asked around the stem of his pipe. His teeth were clenched around it. It would be a wonder if the pipe didn’t crack. Briar hoped he’d brought a spare.

  Caught between her parents, Isabella said nothing. Her gaze flicked back and forth from her mother to her father and back.

  “Althea?” Joseph stared accusingly at her.

  “Joseph, I did what had to be done after Wellington went to the Continent. Our household is still intact, thanks to my efforts with Isabella.”

  “Whatever do you mean? We have enough funds, even allowing for our difficulties with the boy.”

  “He decimated our savings. The cost of his education in Germany has long-since used everything that was left once we paid off his debts.”

  “Impossible!” Joseph stumbled over to a nearby chair and dropped into it. He stared at Isabella’s mother in disbelief. “I check our finances regularly, and there is always money. Our estates produce enough to provide for us.”

  “Dearest, the estates produce barely enough to cover their own expenses. Our household costs more to run, even in its much reduced capacity, than the estates can provide. That doesn’t include the cost of Wellington’s tuition and board, nor your supplies, nor what Isabella requires for her season.”

  “Then we should have sold one of the estates, and Isabella need not have come out this year. I can certainly reduce my work. And the boy…” Joseph’s voice trailed off. “Why did you not tell me?” His voice was plaintive.

  “I was trying to protect you. To protect the family. You haven’t lived in poverty. I have. The inside of a debtor’s prison has none of the romance of the stories. I don’t know if I could have survived that again. Isabella would have been forever damaged, and you…”

  Briar knew quite well what Althea meant. Privately, she agreed with her assessment of Joseph’s ability to withstand prison. His head was far too much in the clouds to have the fortitude to handle such a place.

  “Then what have you been doing to supplement the income of our estates?” Joseph closed his eyes as if he were afraid to hear the answer but knew he must. “What have you convinced our daughter she must do?”

  Althea flipped her hand at Isabella, authorizing her to answer the question.

  Isabella pretended not to have seen her mother’s attempt at direction and focused on her father’s face. It was time to lay everything out in the sunshine. “I have been using my jump suit to break into homes and steal valuables.” When her father said nothing, Isabella continued. “I made sure to note who had impressive jewels when I was at a ball and to keep my ears open for those who had recent good fortune. I would watch their house for a few nights to determine the best time to break in.”

  “You stole from our peers? Our friends? This is unconscionable!”

  “It is only meant to last until Wellington returns from university.”

  “Yes, the boy.” Joseph shook his head. “His selfish actions started us down this road to ruin, and now I find out that my wife and daughter have finished the job. Without ever telling me.” He buried his head in his hands. “Would you ever have told me, had it not come out this way?”

  “Likely not,” Althea said. “It would have no longer been necessary.”

  “You and I will talk more on this later,” Joseph said. He turned his attention back to Briar. “Continue.”

  “There isn’t much more to tell, truth be told. There was an alarm of some sort upon the book and when Isabella took it, a legion of imps tried to stop her.”

  “Imps?”

  “Yes, small demons.”

  “Demons.” Joseph wasn’t the only one who looked skeptical. Althea had sat back and crossed her arms across her impressive bosom.

  “Demons. What is it with you people who use demoniac energy, but don’t believe in demons? The term is not coincidental, I assure you. Three imps came out of the engine in your workshop and retrieved the grimoire.”

  Joseph pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I thought perhaps it was birds. Or bats.”

  “What manner of bats, or birds for that matter, do you know who could do that much damage?” The capacity of humans to lie to themselves was remarkable and extremely inconvenient at this moment. Briar worked to keep her voice neutral and not to betray the impatience that burned within her. “They left six-inch-long gashes in my back. Surely you didn’t miss that. You shot at one with a harpoon gun.”

  “When you say it
that way…” Joseph struggled against the suggestion of his own traitorous mind. “Are you certain they weren’t bats?”

  “Father,” Isabella said, “they were demons. And they could be after us. If they even suspect what we know, it’s likely we should have seen another attack had we stayed home. Only this one would be much stronger than only three imps. What I saw in that factory is impossible to describe, but it was something straight out of Hell.” She shuddered violently at the memory. Briar put her hand discreetly in the small of her back where neither her mother nor father would be able to see it. “Something is going to happen, something bad.”

  “The inventor of that engine has discovered a way of powering it using demons directly instead of the energy that comes from the infernal plane.” The statement engendered no response from Joseph. He didn’t understand the magnitude of the issue there, not surprising in someone who didn’t yet believe in demons. “His grimoire also described a way to overlap an area of this world and that of the infernal. It would create a large portal for demons into the mortal plane, one this world is unlikely to survive unscathed.”

  “That does sound concerning,” Joseph said. “I believe you should both retire for the night. My wife and I have much to discuss.”

  Isabella scooted out of the room in a flurry of skirts. She clearly had no desire to be around for that. Briar followed Isabella rather more decorously and found her waiting at the top of the stairs.

  “I thought you could take the room next to mine,” Isabella said quietly. She looked back down the stairs and seemed to be listening for what her parents might be saying. As far as Briar could tell, all was quiet down there.

  “I have no objections,” Briar said. If Isabella had been expecting a more enthusiastic response, she was doomed to disappointment. The only thing Briar wanted was bed and sleep. She followed Isabella down the hall and mumbled a quiet “good night” to her before continuing to the next door. The room was adequate enough. The bed was covered in a large dust cloth. Briar pulled it off as well as the one over the plain dresser, remembering at the last moment to keep the mirror covered. There were sheets and heavy blankets in the wardrobe; Patterson must have brought them up. She did the best she could to cover the bed, then bent down to undo the ties of her shoes. Those efforts sapped the remainder of her energy so she crawled under the blanket without removing her dress. She couldn’t remove it without help, the rows of buttons went too far down to reach.