Supernatural Devices (A Steampunk Scarlett Novel: Book 1)

by Kailin Gow

  “Well, that is good to know,” Gordon said, “what with your adventures.”

  “Is this the point where you tell me that I should be more careful, and that this isn’t the business for a young woman?”

  Gordon shook his head. “You know me better than that, Scarlett.”

  “Yes,” Scarlett agreed. “You’re a good friend, Gordon.”

  “A good friend, yes.” Gordon looked like he might say something else, but he did not get a chance, because in that moment, a figure burst from the crowd of shoppers around them, heading straight for Scarlett. It was a young man, unkempt and tattered in his appearance, with matted hair and dirt streaked features that Scarlett might have expected in parts of the East End, but not in such a wealthy district. The young man’s expression was feral as he glared at Scarlett. He opened his mouth wide, hissing like a cat and revealing wickedly sharp fangs. Then, without warning, he leapt at her.

  Scarlett whirled automatically, avoiding the move while dropping to one knee. It meant that the vampire’s dive took it over her head, so that it rolled, coming to its feet. Several people in the surrounding crowd cried out in fear, while one or two began to call out for a constable. While they were busy doing that, Gordon lashed out at the vampire with his cane. The creature dodged back, but it gave him the opportunity to draw his blade. He lunged at the vampire, a perfect thrust in the Italian style, and skewered it, recovering elegantly into an en garde position.

  The vampire just ignored it, stepping forward to swing a punch at Gordon. Gordon dodged the blow barely, thrusting his sword home again, and again, it made no difference to the creature. It did, however, mean that its attention was not on Scarlett. That allowed Scarlett to reach under her skirts and draw the dagger she had there.

  The vampire seemed to sense her doing it, whirling to face her while ignoring another blow from Gordon. Gordon, seeming to sense the futility of sword work, used the cane sheath of the thing instead, striking one of the vampire’s knees as it tried to leap at Scarlett once more. That brought its leap short, and Scarlett managed to slash at it with the knife, opening a wound that had it screaming its anger and pain.

  “Oh, you felt that one, did you?” Scarlett asked.

  The vampire’s answer was to swing a rapid blow at her head. Scarlett did not bother trying to parry it. She knew she would not be strong enough. Instead, she did the one thing the vampire could not have been expecting, stepping inside the blow completely, just inches from those waiting fangs of his. It would have been suicide, except that Scarlett had the blade she held up at heart level as she did it.

  She felt the knife slide home under the ribcage, and there was just time to see the vampire’s eyes widen in shock before it was gone, vanished into a cloud of silvery dust. Some of it settled on Scarlett’s dress, and she did her best to brush it off.

  Around her, one or two people looked on with shock, but a couple muttered about how that kind of street performance was all right for other markets, but wasn’t really appropriate there, while a few even applauded. Apparently, it was the only way they could explain people who vanished into thin air. Scarlett quickly put her knife away as best she could without attracting further attention, while Gordon sheathed his sword.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked. Around them, the crowds went back to their shopping.

  “I’m fine,” Scarlett replied, “though I wish I hadn’t had to kill the creature. This way, we will never know whether that vampire was working alone, or if it was under instructions from the Order. I should have found a way to question it.”

  “You should,” a voice from beside them said, and Scarlett turned as Tavian approached. The young gypsy man looked tired, as though he had not slept. “Though I think that if you had delayed, the vampire would have ended up harming you.”

  “Who is this?” Gordon asked, moving forward just a little.

  “Tavian,” Scarlett said. “How are you? How is the search for your sister going?”

  Tavian shook his head. “Not well. There is no sign of her anywhere I was able to look. I asked around the camp. I thought someone might have seen something. No one had.” He nodded towards Gordon. “Is this another detective, or perhaps one of Lord Darthmoor’s friends?”

  He said that with an obvious note of caution, not to mention a suspicious glance towards Gordon.

  “Neither yet,” Gordon said carefully, “but I could be both. Who are you?”

  “Tavian is Cecilia’s brother,” Scarlett said hurriedly, deciding that she needed to effect proper introductions quickly if she was going to avoid difficulties between the young men.

  “The girl you are trying to find?” Gordon asked.

  “Exactly. Tavian, meet Gordon. Gordon and I have been friends for years, and I imagine my parents asked him to come back to London to keep me out of trouble.”

  “He is like a brother to you?” Tavian asked.

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Very well. Now, we should walk, before someone decides that what happened here was not simply entertainment, and you have to answer questions that will be difficult to answer.”

  Scarlett nodded. She certainly did not want attention from the police. Not because she had done anything wrong, but because that was the sort of scandal that would undoubtedly have her parents demanding she stop her involvement in the case. She, Tavian and Gordon started to move away through the market. As they did so, Tavian spoke in low tones to Scarlett.

  “You should know, I was able to find out one thing about my sister.”

  “What is that?” Scarlett asked.

  “You understand, she is still my sister, and I must do what I can to keep her safe.”

  Scarlett nodded. “I know that.”

  “But I believe that she is not the innocent victim in this she appears. I looked through some of her things, trying to find out more about the ring she had taken. I… I do not believe she took it simply because she believed it should rightfully belong to our people. Maybe a little, but not completely.”

  Scarlett thought about questioning Tavian on that, but for now at least, the right thing to do seemed to be to wait.

  “I think,” Tavian said after a few seconds, “that Cecilia was paid to get the ring. I think that she was in trouble, and that she was working for someone else, along with Lord Darthmoor.”

  “Someone who belongs to the Order?” Scarlett guessed. It was too much of a potential coincidence otherwise.

  Tavian nodded. “I think so. I cannot be sure, but who else could it be?”

  Scarlett tried to think that through. If what Tavian had said turned out to be true, then was Cecilia in more or less danger? An employer would be less likely to hurt her, but then, if things were that simple, why kidnap her? It might be that the Order had decided she was no longer useful to them, in which case, Cecilia might conceivably be dead already. There was no way of knowing.

  “This all keeps coming back to the same thing,” Scarlett said at last. “We need to find the Order. Do you know how to do that, Tavian?”

  Tavian shook his head. “People do not find the Order,” he said. “It finds them.”

  Chapter 13

  Scarlett was not sure exactly how they should go about bringing the Order to them, but the simplest way seemed to be to ask further questions until the Order could not ignore her any longer. Neither Tavian nor Gordon seemed particularly happy with that idea when she suggested it, but they did not speak out against it openly, and that was enough for the time being.

  Scarlett set off with them in tow, ostensibly browsing the shops and emporia of Central London with the two men to escort her, but actually endeavoring to remember all that she could of Holmes’ network of informants. She stopped at a small bookshop to talk with the owner about what he had heard, paying sixpence more for a copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy than it was worth, then paused in an alley to hand a penny to a street urchin, with the promise of half a crown if there was useful information from him later. She talked to newspaper ve
ndors and cab drivers, wandering traders and a few more specialized individuals, including one purveyor of ‘artifacts’ whose wares were nowhere near genuine, but who could still be relied upon to hear news in that field from those who dabbled in it.

  It was not easy. Holmes would no doubt have had the information from his network over the course of an hour or so, but he had a reputation to play on, as well as access to far more individuals who might have heard something than Scarlett did. Scarlett only knew of a few of the more important informants, and they were generally less willing to deal with a young woman than they were the city’s most famous detective. Money eased the way a little, but still, Scarlett got the feeling that people were not being as forthcoming as they might be.

  The presence of Gordon and Tavian helped at first. Scarlett would have liked to believe that she would have gotten through all the informants without giving up even had she been alone, but the presence of two handsome young men to escort her certainly made things a little easier.

  They even helped to get information from some of those the three met. Those who could not believe that a mere girl might be playing at the serious business of detection were prepared to address such answers as they had to the other two. To their credit, both young men consistently reminded people that it was Scarlett they should be talking to, but she had no doubt that they got more answers than she did.

  Not that there seemed to be many answers to be had. Almost no one would admit to having heard of the Order. The few that did admit they did so in hushed tones, and were able to tell Scarlett no more than Tavian had before. Scarlett tried to console herself with the thought that gaining information was not the point of the exercise so much as catching the Order’s attention, but even so, it was disheartening.

  Perhaps that was partly to blame for the increasing fractiousness between the two young men, although Scarlett had to admit that they hardly started the day as the greatest of friends. They were not openly hostile, but neither went out of his way to be friendly to the other, and both seemed a little too willing to pass pointed comments. When they met a couple of urchins who were clearly looking for pockets to pick, Gordon actually remarked that Tavian should deal with them, since they were as unkempt as most gypsies, while Tavian shot back that at least, unlike most well to do young men, he knew that children like this existed.

  That wasn’t the worst though. Once they had been to see the bookseller, Gordon suggested that they should call it a day.

  “Are you getting tired?” Tavian asked, with obviously false concern.

  “No, I just do not think that this is getting us anywhere.”

  “Typical,” Tavian said, “the moment things get a little difficult, the fop wants to quit.”

  Gordon glowered at that. “I am only a fop in comparison to you. Frankly, that could apply to almost anyone who isn’t one of your band.”

  “Gypsies aren’t good enough for you, then?” Tavian demanded. “Still, what should I expect from some gadjo who clearly thinks my people should not be allowed near his precious city?”

  “Gadjo?” Gordon bridled. “Is that some sort of insult?”

  “Only when applied to the likes of you,” Tavian said.

  Scarlett decided to intervene. “It means outsider in the Romany tongue, Gordon.”

  “Well I’m glad of that, at least,” Gordon said, with another glare at Tavian. “Or did you think that any civilized man would want to be anything like you?”

  Tavian looked at Gordon, and then at Scarlett. “I think there’s at least one respect in which you would love to be like me, isn’t there?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Gordon snapped back. “Who do you think you are, anyway, talking to me like this?”

  Tavian shrugged. “I’ll talk to you any way I please.”

  For a moment, Scarlett saw Gordon’s hands tighten into fists. She moved quickly, stepping between the two of them.

  “That’s enough, both of you. What do you think you are doing?”

  “You heard him,” Gordon said. “He…”

  “Enough,” Scarlett repeated. “You have been bickering for half the day, and I do not know why, but I have had enough. I am going to continue this trip out alone, thank you very much, and when I get back home, I hope you will both be able to behave better than this.”

  Scarlett walked away, hoping that her rebuke would do the trick. Because she had run through the small store of informants and potential sources of information she knew about, she headed for a nearby shop instead. Scarlett was not particularly thinking of buying anything; it was simply the best way of getting away from the two boys for a while.

  The shop in question was a jeweler’s, with everything from pocket watches to diamond broaches in the window. Scarlett went inside, with half an idea of asking the owner to keep an eye out for the ring, but she gave that up quickly enough. After all, the Order was not likely to try to sell it. Instead, she merely looked at the items on display.

  One caught her eye almost immediately. It was a pendant necklace in an elegant clockwork design with a sapphire as the central stone, set within a web-like net of intertwining silver and gold gears, on a silver chain. Even in its case, it glittered with cool beauty, and the craftsmanship involved was quite extraordinary.

  “Does that piece interest you?” A hand touched Scarlett’s elbow and she turned, finding herself looking at a man who appeared to be in his twenties. He had flowing blond hair, powerfully handsome features, a complexion so pale that it seemed like he had never been out in the sun, and deep blue eyes that seemed to bore into her. There was something dangerous in those eyes too, something that forced Scarlett to fight to avoid stepping back. So soon after working out what Cruces was, and so soon after fighting another of his kind, Scarlett had no problems identifying the vampire for what he was.

  “I am Rothschild,” the vampire said. “Welcome to my little emporium. Would you like to try the pendant on? I believe it would suit you.”

  “It is lovely,” Scarlett agreed, though she had not intended to spend the kind of money today that such a thing would undoubtedly cost. Before she could say so, however, Rothschild had the pendant out of its case, holding it up.

  “Allow me,” he said, moving Scarlett’s hair aside so that he could fasten the pendant behind her neck. He paused like that a little longer than was strictly necessary, and Scarlett wondered if it was wise to let a vampire stand behind her so close for so long. What if he bite her? What if this was all a ruse of some kind? Except that even as she thought it, a second explanation occurred to Scarlett. Placed as he was, Rothschild would be easily able to see the mark on her neck.

  “There,” Rothschild said, “it is perfect. The same color as your eyes. Look.”

  He indicated a mirror off to one side, and Scarlett looked at herself in it. The pendant shone against the dark backing of her dress, and was indeed bright enough to draw attention to her eyes. It was the kind of thing Scarlett was prepared to admit she would have loved to own, but there seemed to be no way she would be able to meet the price for it with the money she had to hand. Still, she could ask.

  “How much is it?”

  Rothschild shook his head. “For you, Miss…”

  “Seely.”

  “A beautiful name. And a beautiful young woman to wear it. Consider the piece a gift.”

  “I couldn’t possibly accept something as valuable as…”

  “What is money beside beauty?” Rothschild argued. “The most beautiful women deserve to be dressed in the finest jewels. Besides, everyone who sees you wearing it will want to know where you got it. It will earn me far more about such a lovely neck than languishing in a case.”

  He leaned close to her, and Scarlett readied herself to step back. Merely giving her a gift did not give him the right to bite her. As suddenly as he had leaned in though, Rothschild pulled back.

  “Roses, chocolate, and just a hint of wine. Even your scent is lovely.”

  “Thank y
ou,” Scarlett said automatically. “I… I have to get back to my friends.”

  “Then of course you must go,” Rothschild said, holding her gaze for a second or two with those deep blue eyes of his. “We should not keep you from them. I am sure we will see one another again soon enough, in any case.”

  “Yes,” Scarlett replied. “I am sure we shall.”

  She wasn’t sure why she said that. Did she not have enough good looking men clustering around her without adding to the list? And wasn’t one vampire, in the form of Cruces, more than enough? Encouraging young men like that certainly wasn’t something her parents would have approved of.

  Yet Scarlett knew that things were rarely so simple. She had seen other young women of her age, and for all that they might try to hide it for the sake of propriety, they felt everything that Scarlett felt when it came to young men. Scarlett was not going to pretend that she felt nothing when she was the object of the attentions of handsome young men. Nor was she going to try to put space between herself and them for the sake of how things looked, not when that would mean abandoning the investigation she had committed herself to.

  No, she would keep going. She would continue as she was to see where it led. And if it happened to lead places that involved her being surrounded by such good looking men as Cruces, Tavian, and now Rothschild… well, Scarlett thought to herself with a slight smile, that was all the better.

  Chapter 14

  Scarlett left the jeweler’s quite quickly after that. She did not want the complications that remaining there might have brought. Instead, she went back to where she had left Gordon and Tavian, hoping that, despite her talk of seeing them once she got back home, they might still be around.

  In fact, she found them in a nearby public house, drinking together at a corner table. It was a distinct improvement on their arguing with one another, though Scarlett suspected that it was not something that had come about without outside intervention. After all, Cruces sat there with them, drinking from a wine goblet. Would he be drinking blood? Scarlet dismissed the idea. An ordinary public house would not stock it, surely.