The Girl and the Clockwork Conspiracy: Clockwork Enterprises Book Two

by Nikki Mccormack

  Now for the tricky part. If the man they were looking for was somewhere around or in the building, she needed to get his attention, but she didn’t want to be too obvious about it. It seemed unlikely that he would shoot her in the open right outside the Tower, though the mere possibility made her skin prickle. There weren’t many people out this late in such miserable weather, but Thaddeus couldn’t want another incident so close to home.

  To keep attention away from Chaff on his way to meet Ash, she moved back around the opposite side of the building and crossed the street before walking down the block in front of the Tower. She made a show of trying to stick to the deeper shadows, enough so to draw the suspicion of anyone who might be watching for trouble.

  She was less than a block from Em’s coach before she actually saw it through the still increasing downpour. It was starting to feel like walking through a waterfall. A waterfall in flood no less. Macak was trying to crawl inside her clothing to escape the wet and she could only get so annoyed with him. This was rubbish. How would anyone even spot her in this? Maybe Em would have to call it off and try another night. Besides, she was getting cold enough now that she had started to shiver and that wasn’t helping her pain in the least. She stopped trying to keep to deeper shadows and made a direct line to the waiting coach.

  The coach driver sat hunkered down, his hat pulled low on his forehead.

  Poor chap must hate his job on nights like this.

  She walked up and grabbed the door, yanking it open. Macak twisted in her arms, digging in his claws and scrabbling free of her grasp as she ducked into the dark interior to get out of the rain. He sprinted back out into the downpour and she began to turn to go after him when someone grabbed her wrists, yanking them up behind her and flipping her around face down on the narrow floor of the coach.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Pain streaked through Maeko’s back and neck with the force of a lightning bolt, stealing her breath away. Someone else stepped up into the coach behind her and shut the door. The new arrival pounded on the roof and it began to move. She couldn’t get her head around far enough to see either of them.

  The man holding her wrists, at least she assumed it was a man given the size of his hands and his strength, lifted her and she twisted around, kicking out so her foot caught the second man across the jaw. The maneuver sent a flare of pain through her back that stole her breath away again. One hand let go of her wrists and something struck the back of her head. The interior of the coach spun around her and she sank to her knees, dazed. All she could do for several agonizing seconds was try to catch her breath and not be sick.

  A soft click drew her attention to the man now sitting on the seat she was facing. He wore a bowler cap low on his head. It shadowed his features. He held a gun in one hand rested across his lap, the hammer cocked. He touched a finger to his lips and she flinched when he spit blood on the seat in front of her face.

  “Not much of a lady, kicking your host like that before we’ve even said hello.” He had a soft voice, a familiar voice that made her skin crawl.

  “Joel Jacard?” Her voice cracked, betraying the swell of terror that made her throbbing head spin faster.

  He raised his head enough that she could see his face and smiled. He looked thinner for his brief stay in the jail, but no saner.

  Wearing a smug grin, he took his hand away from the gun to draw a cigarette out of his pocket and struck a lucifer. After lighting the cigarette, he ground out the match on the seat, leaving a scorch mark there next to the wet spot of blood.

  “I’ve been keen to see you again, Rat. I believe I owe you something for shooting me. My arm still doesn’t work right, which is why I had to have Bennett join our little liaison.” He nodded to the man behind her. “He’s quite practiced in the handling of little problems.”

  Her wrists ached, still twisted back in the other man’s tight grip, and the position set her back on fire. “Little problems like Commissioner Henderson?”

  Joel’s expression was cold and unyielding, but she wasn’t going to let him trick her. They were responsible for the commissioner’s death. She was certain of it. She’d drawn out the killer as planned. Too bad the blasted detective wasn’t holding up her end of the deal. But Em wouldn’t have abandoned her like this, not if she had a choice, and that didn’t help settle her nerves.

  She licked her lips and asked, “Where’s Em?”

  “I imagine she’s a bit preoccupied right about now.” Joel chuckled. “I think you have enough troubles of your own to worry about, don’t you?” He sucked on the cigarette and exhaled nauseating stale smoke into her face. “What were you doing in the Tower?”

  She fought to gather her thoughts through the haze of pain from her various injuries. The blow to the head hadn’t helped with clarity, nor did the building terror making her insides into a quivering mess. Did they know about Chaff or Ash? “You saw me go inside?”

  “We saw you arrive with the other rat a bit before the detective pulled in down the street. I figured you were all up to something. Mr. Folesworth has enough to deal with right now, so I thought it would be most practical to wait until you came out to the coach where we could have a little private meeting to work out our differences.” He took another draw on the cigarette and blew smoke in her face again.

  She coughed and turned away. “How delightful.”

  “Back to my question. What were you doing in the Tower?”

  One wheel hit a pothole, jarring the coach and sending a spike of pain through the tender spot on her head where the other man had struck her. She ground her teeth and fought to focus. Not that it mattered now. There wasn’t much chance of escaping them in the tight confines of the coach. She just had to keep her wits long enough to get wherever they were going and reassess the situation. “We were trying to lure out the man who shot the commissioner.”

  Joel glanced at the man behind her, mock severity in his tone. “Did you kill Commissioner Henderson.” The man behind her remained ominously silent. Joel shrugged. “I didn’t think so. You’re barking up the wrong tree, Rat.”

  “I am not,” she grumbled. One of them was wearing heavy cologne that made her unbalanced stomach clench. She swallowed hard to fight the urge to retch.

  “This is how we ended up enemies, Rat. You can’t keep your nose out of other people’s business.”

  Pain made it hard to breathe, hard to focus. Joel’s mocking tone crushed her, bringing the sting of hopeless tears to her eyes. They both knew he had won. Without Em, there was no one who would know to come to her aid and she couldn’t fight them like this. She ground her teeth, fighting back the threatening tears. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. There was still hope. There had to be.

  “What do you expect me to say? We both know you aren’t going to let me go.”

  His smile faded. “No, I’m not. I wouldn’t get any satisfaction out of that. However, I can’t have your body showing up near the Tower and disrupting poor Lucian in his time of mourning so we have a few more minutes to discuss where you’ve been spreading your lies about Mr. Folesworth’s situation before we wrap up our little meeting. Have you told anyone other than your little detective friend?”

  They weren’t lies. They couldn’t be. Lucian was dead. She was certain of it, wasn’t she? What if she was wrong? “Go to hell.”

  Bennett twisted her arms back hard and she cried out. Joel released the hammer on his gun and set it on the far side of the seat, well out of her reach. He leaned forward. The coach rolled to a stop. Part of her wanted to curl up in a quivering ball and beg for her life, but she couldn’t disgrace herself that way, not in front of him. It wouldn’t do any good beyond giving him a chuckle anyway.

  End of the road. She hoped Macak found safety. He was a victim in all of this chaos.

  “I guess we’re out of time, but when it comes down to it, I don’t really care what lies you told and who you told them to.” He leaned down, putting his face in front of he
r. “After what you put me through, I only regret that I don’t have time to stick around and watch you die.”

  His breath smelled like smoke and rotten fish. Her stomach heaved and she couldn’t stop the rush of bile this time. Joel hopped sideways on the seat, avoiding the spray of vomit with all but the very edge of his trouser leg. He sneered and nodded to the man behind her who began to bind her wrists with an abrasive rope. She twisted, terror giving her strength. Both men grabbed her and threw her face down on the floor again. Joel pressed a foot down between her shoulder blades, his boot heel digging into bruised muscles across her back. He picked up the gun. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the shot. Something struck her head and darkness sucked her down.

  Cold snapped her to awareness again with a gasp. Foul tasting water filled her mouth. Water surrounded her. She was sinking, her hands bound behind her back. She choked. Coherent thought swept away on the wave of panic and terror searing through her. She swallowed more water. Her hands twisted against the coarse rope, grinding away skin. She kicked hard, slowing her descent, but gaining no upward momentum. Her lungs strained, aching for air. Her eyes darted around, finding nothing but darkness. So dark and alone and cold.

  I’m not wrong.

  Her eyes started to sting. Was that tears or just the filthy black water?

  Why couldn’t they have just shot me?

  The thought brought a manic giddiness with it and she almost laughed before self-preservation kicked in and stopped her from drawing more water into her lungs. She kicked her feet again, weaker this time. Black threatened at the edges of her vision. Her body trembled with the effort of not breathing in. She tried to kick again. The effort was too much.

  I’m sorry Chaff.

  There was no doubt now that tears were at least part of what made her eyes sting. She began to sink again. Her lungs ached. Her head pounded. The water was cold, numbing. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sting and the black crept in, closing around her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Maeko’s stomach heaved and she rolled onto her side. She threw up foul water and the little bit of food that remained in her gut. Someone’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her away from the vomit and guiding her up to her hands and knees. A fit of coughing sent shooting pain through her back and neck. Her limbs shook so hard she couldn’t hold herself up so she sagged into the arms that held her.

  “Give me your jacket.”

  Chaff? How? Everything was so cold. Shaking took all her energy away from simple tasks like speaking.

  A jacket appeared from somewhere. Someone yanked her sopping jacket off and Chaff wrapped the dry jacket around her.

  So cold. So tired. She closed her eyes.

  “Pigeon, talk to me.”

  She wanted to. It was much too hard though. Her lips felt numb. Her thoughts were sluggish and broken. She needed to rest. He shook her. Desperate to avoid more rough handling, she made her eyes obey, opening them for a second. They slid closed a second later, not giving her enough time to make sense of her surroundings.

  “We need to get her dry and warm.”

  Em?

  She tried to open her eyes again. This time they refused to obey. Someone lifted her, someone as wet and cold as she was. She tried to push away from the wet body, wanting to escape that extra chill, but the arms held her tight. She gave up, much too weak and exhausted to fight. All she wanted was a little rest.

  *

  The shivering wouldn’t stop. It hurt in her bruised muscles and it sapped her energy. It also kept her from sleep, but she could do nothing to control it.

  “This is your fault.” Chaff sounded angry.

  “She agreed to the plan,” Em snapped. “She knew the risks.”

  “I doubt she expected this.”

  Em was silent a moment. When she spoke again, she sounded almost as tired as Maeko felt. “Neither did I.”

  Her eyelids felt heavy. For that matter, her whole body felt like a weight of bricks lay on top of it. She was still so cold. With great effort, she managed to open her eyes. The first thing she noticed was old green wallpaper peeling off the opposite wall. The room smelled of cheap perfume, a ghastly stench that made her empty stomach cramp. Em stood in one corner glaring at someone outside Maeko’s line of sight. The detective had a bloody scrape on one cheek, a spectacular black eye swelled nearly shut and a thick blood-soaked bandage wrapped around one forearm.

  “You’re not dead.” Maeko’s voice came out hoarse and slurred. The effort made her cough.

  Em looked at her and shook her head. “Less so than you at least.”

  The door opened and Diggs leaned in with a heavy blanket in hand. Chaff stepped out from the corner of the room Em had been glaring into and took it. He gave Em a long hard look. The detective sneered and stormed from the room after Diggs, slamming the door behind them. The coughing eased and Maeko closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain her breath. Her head throbbed. Chaff added the new blanket to the several already weighing her down then touched her cheek.

  She opened her eyes again. His hair was wet. He wore a tortured expression as if someone dear had died and he were trying to hold back the sorrow. Trying to be strong like he always was. He held a cup out in one hand. The hand shook a little. She tried to shift up on her elbow to take it. The strength simply wasn’t there. She gave up, a sigh of weariness whispering between her lips. Chaff set the cup down and helped her up, sitting next to her so she could lean on him.

  “Drink this.” He held it to her lips, tipping it up a touch.

  She took a small sip. It was hot and a little sweet. It burned going down. She started to cough and he moved the cup away until the coughing passed again. He brought it back to her lips and she managed to swallow without coughing this time. After several drinks, she put a hand up and pushed the cup weakly away. He relented, taking a swallow himself before setting it aside. The shivering let up a little.

  “How?” It was as much talking as she had energy for yet. She figured it would translate well enough.

  “I know you, Pigeon. I knew you’d find trouble the minute you left me. I passed off the package to your boy and struck out after you. I came on the detective in time to save her being shot, or shot in a fatal way anyhow. We were making our escape from that sticky situation when that cat—”

  “Macak,” she corrected.

  There was a hint of smile in his voice when he continued. “Macak came sprinting out of the rain at us. We were just lucky to catch sight of the coach before it got too far and tail it to the river.”

  “You dove in after me,” she murmured, knowing it was true without needing his confirmation.

  “What else was I going to do?”

  She managed a fleeting smile. “Did they see you?”

  “No. I don’t believe so.”

  “Good. Then they’ll think I’m dead.”

  He put his arms around her and squeezed her tight. She didn’t mind the pain it caused in her back. Not at all.

  He kissed her head. “You almost were.”

  The shivering still shook her, continuing to sap her strength. She curled against him, closing her eyes. He reached out and pulled the blankets in around her. She listened to his heartbeat, letting the steady rhythm lull her until a more violent bout of shivering took hold and jarred her back to miserable awareness. Tears of frustration slipped out, hot on her icy skin.

  Chaff shifted her, encouraging her to lie down again. She squeezed her eyes shut and curled under the blankets, trying to get warm. Moments later, he slipped into the covers behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in against him. It wasn’t until then that she realized she wasn’t dressed. Someone had stripped away her sopping clothes before putting her in the bed. Chaff had taken off everything but his drawers. The pain in her bruises and the lack of appropriate clothes became unimportant, however, when weighed against the warmth of his bare skin against her icy back.

  She felt him wrap himself around her, s
avoring his warmth. If only it could reach the cold at her core. He moved his lips next to her ear and whispered to her while he held her to him.

  “Remember when we first met? You were trying to nick a meal from a vendor’s cart and I told you that you were going about it all wrong. You told me to bugger off. You said you didn’t need help from a bloody street rat.”

  She smiled tiredly. She had said exactly those things, just that crudely. He’d laughed and told her she had a lot of cheek for a bird and she’d stomped on his foot before storming away. It was the turbulent start of what would become a brilliant partnership.

  He continued to speak, reminiscing on past escapades, the ongoing monologue holding her at the edge of sleep. Eventually, the shivering stopped and she began to feel warm again. He stopped talking then and the silence allowed her to sink the rest of the way into sleep.

  *

  When she woke, Chaff was gone. Every muscle and joint ached and her head throbbed. Tentative fingers found the lump where one of the men had struck her before dropping her into the river. She groaned and opened her eyes to find a woman in a corset and bright skirt, drawn up in front to reveal even brighter layers of petticoats, sitting in a chair by the bed. Her face was painted and she wore high boots and stockings. A dollymop if Maeko ever saw one, which meant they’d taken refuge in a brothel. That explained the cheap perfume and other questionable smells in the air.

  “Where am I?” Her voice came out stronger now, if a bit raspy.

  “Relax, sweetie. Yer safe enough. If ye come with me, I’ll ‘elp ye clean the river smell away and we’ll get ye back with yer friends. Yer beau’s already ‘ad ‘imself a bath.”

  Maeko flushed at that and considered arguing that Chaff wasn’t her beau, but there didn’t seem to be much sense in it.