by Bec McMaster
Byrnes crossed his arms. Interrogation it was,
then. Never let it be said that he was afraid to face
the worst womankind could throw at him. "Answer
me this first: why is she so frightened of rats?"
"This is not an exchange of questions."
"Rosa," he warned. "She practically leapt into
my arms when a rat scurried over her foot. She
was frightened, and she won't tell me why. I want
to know."
Rosa paused. "What do you know of her
past?"
"She was stolen from her family and sold to
Lord Balfour," he replied promptly, "who by all
accounts was a right rotten bastard."
"Well, that is succinct." With a sigh, Rosa
continued, though hesitantly, "She's only ever
spoken of this to me once, Byrnes, so consider this
a matter she's extremely reluctant to deal with."
"I won't say anything."
"Imagine being a little girl, stolen from your
family and placed on a ship by men who don't
speak your language, and don't consider you even
human. She wasn't the only child taken, either.
There were two other girls in the hold, and a little
boy in the cage next to her. His name was Viktor,
and he'd sustained quite a beating in his capture.
And, like most ships, there were rats."
Byrnes
shifted
uncomfortably.
"What
happened?"
"Viktor didn't survive," Rosa said, quite
brutally. "You can imagine what the rats did to his
body, and what she had to see. Ingrid would walk
into a burning house to save someone she loved
and not bat an eyelid, but rats... She's terrified of
them."
"She's still looking for her family."
"Wouldn't you?"
He looked away. This was more complicated
than he'd expected. "We have a... challenge set in
place. If I win three challenges, she'll allow me
into her bed. Those are my intentions. Now, if
you’ll excuse me, I have a vampire or two to
catch.”
"Byrnes.” Rosa caught his sleeve as he
opened the door. Those eyes were molten
chocolate as she looked up at him.
"I’m not your husband, Rosa. I’m not going to
fall for those innocent eyes. I know exactly who
you are, and what you’re capable of." He couldn't
forget that she'd once been an assassin, despite the
fact that Lynch seemed to be able to.
"But do you know who Ingrid is, and what
she’s capable of?”
"Rendering a man senseless, or tearing his
head from his shoulders? She’s verwulfen, Rosa. I
know what she can do. I've seen her take on a
vampire, after all.”
"But do you know what it means, to be
verwulfen?”
He paused then. There was something beneath
the words that he couldn’t quite identify.
Rosa took his hesitation as intended.
"Verwulfen are passionate and loyal and
completely enslaved by their emotions. The
Scandinavian verwulfen often mate for life, and
when their partners die, they rarely take another.
They refer to marriage as mating, and when they do
so, it is only ever once. Ingrid’s wary when it
comes to letting a person into her life, but when
she does… it’s forever. If she falls for you, then
she won’t let you go. Not in her heart, though she
may watch you walk away. She has her pride, after
all, and Ingrid has learned how to adapt to loss.
Sometimes I fear that a part of her won't accept any
man as her mate, for fear of losing him, but... I
hope that one day she will find someone."
"And that someone is not me," he said coolly,
his fists clenching at his sides, even though
rationally he could admit that he agreed with the
duchess.
"That someone is not you."
Byrnes looked away. It was one thing to know
that she spoke the truth, quite another to... accept it.
"If you become her lover and you walk away,
where does that leave her? Alone? Pining for
someone who doesn’t give a damn about her? She's
lost enough in this lifetime, don't you think?”
"Who’s to say she’ll fall for me? After all, if
it’s not the first time she's been with a man….”
"This is not the same,” Rosa told him firmly.
"She won’t speak to me about you. Just changes the
subject. She’s never hidden a man from me before,
nor avoided me, which means that there’s
something different about you. I don’t like this.”
The floor felt like it tilted, just a little,
beneath his feet. And the image of Ingrid bouncing
that chubby child on her lap returned with full
force, a gut punch that made his nostrils flare. What
was he thinking? That he wanted her despite the
fact that he would be the worst thing for her?
"What I am saying, Caleb, is that if you intend
to pursue this, then step lightly, and be certain
about your intentions. Because if you break my
friend’s heart, I’m afraid it will never mend, and
then I shall make it my business to haunt you until
the day you die. Do you understand?”
He stared at her for a long time. "Quite.”
"YOU WERE QUIET TONIGHT," Ingrid said,
gathering her skirts as she descended the stairs at
the front of Lynch's house.
Byrnes paced in the driveway, staring at
nothing. There was a remote set to his shoulders,
as if he'd subtly withdrawn from the world. Or
perhaps her. Ingrid frowned, her steps slowing.
"Are you all right?"
"Just lost in thought," he said, and it felt like
there was more distance between them than just a
foot.
A chill ran through her.
Something had changed. She knew it, though
she didn't understand it. "Rosa is just meddling. I
didn't know that you'd be at dinner tonight. She's
just trying to figure out what is going on between
us. Don't pay her any mind."
"Ingrid," he said, peering down at her with
some strange expression on his face. "Maybe you
were right? Maybe the debris we'd leave behind
wouldn't be worth the risk."
Her heart stuttered to a halt. She wasn't
surprised. She couldn't be, as this was what she'd
been trying to tell him all along. As much as the
fire burned between them, ultimately they were too
different to belong together. But she hadn't
expected it to hurt quite as much as it did.
Nor had she expected it to happen so soon.
Rosa had done this. Her friend had swept
from the room on Byrnes's heels, leaving Ingrid to
try and disengage Phillip's fat little paws from her
pearls.
"What did she say to you?" she demanded.
To his credit, he didn't bother to deny it. "The
truth. That you and I come from different worlds,
and that we have different futures in mind."
"So you don't w
ant to complete your second
challenge?"
Byrnes looked away. "Maybe tonight was a
reminder that the stakes might be too high. We'd
damage more than just ourselves if this ended
badly. Jesus, Ingrid. I don't know."
"Then it's over?" Before it had even begun.
"Maybe... we'd best take a step back? Think
things over before we go rushing into anything?"
Which meant it was over. Ingrid nodded,
tugging her gloves into place. She didn't care, truly
she didn't. This was nothing more than she'd
expected. Why then was there a lump in her throat?
"I'll hail the hackney then," she said, turning to
lifting her hand to hail a steam carriage as she
stepped out into the street.
And tried not to let her hurt show.
NINETEEN
IT WAS ONE thing to declare someone bad for
you, quite another to make your body believe it.
Especially when they were forced into close
proximity with each other until this case was
solved. All Ingrid could think about was the taste
of Byrnes's mouth and how much she wanted to
lose that bet. It even stole into her dreams at night,
leaving her tossing and turning until morning.
Which was when Ava saved her with an
invitation to go question a man about the Doeppler
orbs. Henrik Doeppler was dead, but rumor had it
that he'd once had an apprentice.
Ava caught her in the hallway. "I’ve found a
lead, but I need someone to go with me to... to...."
"Intimidate the suspect?" Ingrid had replied,
with a wolfish smile.
"Something like that," Ava answered, sharing
a conspiratorial smile. "I've seen how Byrnes and
Perry used to work together."
The once-apprentice, Bartholomew Hayes,
owned a small shop near Farringdon where he
catered to the stages in Covent Garden. Ingrid
hopped down out of the carriage she and Ava had
commandeered as it let out a hiss of steam. The
windows to Hayes's shop were full of automata, as
well as a range of devices she couldn't quite make
out. He was no blacksmith of the Royal Academy,
but he seemed to have managed to eke out a well-
to-do living, judging by the sumptuous velvet
beneath the displays.
"Hullo," Ava called as she pushed open the
door and entered. The bell rang. "Mr. Hayes?"
A thin woman popped up from behind the
counter, raking the pair of them with a sharp gaze
that probably weighed them to within a pound of
their worth. "Mr. Hayes is busy, ma'am, but I'm
sure I can help you. Mrs. Hayes, at your service."
Ingrid leaned on the counter as Ava launched
into the spiel of why they were there. There was a
back room just off the counter, and it was filled
with a listening silence. "So you see," Ava
murmured, as she reached the end, "we would very
much like to question Mr. Hayes about the orb."
"I can take a message, ma'am," Mrs. Hayes's
smile held teeth. "But I'm afraid he—"
"Why don't you just fetch him out of the back
room?" Ingrid broke in, eyeing the woman and
letting the wild within her show. "He's standing
right there listening to us."
Ava wanted intimidation, after all, and as
much as a part of her hated to do this—to be what
everyone in London suspected verwulfen were—
they needed information.
Mrs. Hayes nearly collapsed a row of shelves
as she scrambled away from the flare of bronze in
Ingrid's eyes, her heartbeat rabbiting in her chest
loudly. "What do you want with him?" she
demanded shrilly. "My Bart has nothing to do with
this... I see everything that runs through the books, I
do!"
"Is that why he's sweating so badly right now,
and his heart is pounding?" Ingrid inquired
sweetly, before raising her voice. "I do hope he's
not thinking about running. That would be a very
bad idea. If I have to chase him down, well... I'll
be most put out."
The curtains parted and a lean young man
stepped through, his Adam's apple bobbing. "That's
not necessary," he told her firmly, though the icy
glaze in his eyes told another story. "Dolores, will
you put the Closed sign up, and go see the butcher
about dinner?"
Mrs. Hayes's lips thinned, but with a parting
glance at Ingrid she complied.
Silence filled the shop, broken by the jingle of
traces and carriage wheels outside. Several clocks
ticked on the walls, and the eyes of numerous
automaton stared blankly at her as Ingrid moved to
tug down the small curtain over the door.
"What do you want?" Hayes demanded the
second she did so. "I don't know anything."
"You do know how to make one of these,"
Ava told him, pulling the Doeppler orb out of her
reticule. "You're possibly the only one who still
knows."
He frowned, turning it over in his hands.
"Yes, I made them." Handing it back, he met her
stare. "Two months back. Three crates of them.
Why?" Sweat darkened his upper lip. "They can't
do anything dangerous by themselves."
"It's a gas-dispersing device, with a timer,"
Ava pointed out. "I can't imagine a good purpose
this could be crafted for."
Hayes looked away. "They paid a small
fortune. I-I—"
"You knew they were up to no good," Ingrid
replied, strolling through the shop and running her
fingers along one of the steel puppets, "but you
didn't care because you wanted the money."
"Y-you don't understand." Hayes licked dry
lips. "These men.... They weren't the type of men
you say no to. I know times have changed—
supposedly—but I still remember what it felt like
when the Echelon were in charge. These... blue
bloods...."
"Describe them," Ingrid suggested, leaning on
the counter and peering at him. "And do try and
remember everything."
By the time she and Ava exited the shop, they
were convinced.
"Ulbricht," Ava murmured. "That name just
keeps popping up."
"And now we have proof he was connected to
the Begby Square disappearances, and a witness,
and a reason to question Ulbricht." Ingrid cracked
her knuckles then lifted a hand to flag down a
carriage.
"That
should
satisfy
Malloryn's
objections to bringing him in."
"I do hope that didn't sound like you mean to
enjoy questioning him," Ava murmured.
"He tried to feed me to a vampire." A distinct
thrill lit through her. Revenge. "There might be a
small part of me that will enjoy it."
Ava shuddered as a carriage ambled to a halt
at the curb. "You and Byrnes—you're terribly well-
suited."
Hell. Ingrid slammed to a halt. The other
woman'
s feelings were apparent to her, even if
Byrnes was shockingly oblivious. "Ava, I'm.... I-I
—"
"It's all right, Ingrid." Ava smiled sadly. "I'm
not angry, or upset. You suit Caleb. I should like to
see him happy with someone, and you... you get
beneath that callous facade he wears so well in a
way I've never seen anyone else do. He needs
someone like that. Someone who makes him feel."
"I don't think he and I shall ever happen,"
Ingrid admitted as she tugged the carriage door
open for Ava. "It would be very easy to begin to
feel something for him. But I think you're
misconstruing his attentions. It's just a game to
him."
"I've known Caleb for nearly four years. Trust
me, Ingrid. I wish he looked at me the way he
looks at you. Don't give up hope just yet."
"You're taking this remarkably well."
Ava's blonde lashes obscured her eyes. "I've
known for a while that nothing was ever going to
develop between Caleb and I. The mind knew,
even when the heart held hope." She swallowed.
"And I think that you are a decent, kind person.
Even when you want to break bones."
"Just Ulbricht's," Ingrid assured her as Ava
stepped up into the carriage.
A sickly sweet scent caught her nose at that
moment. Something familiar. Something strong
enough to cut through the coal smoke.
"Are you coming?" Ava asked, peering out of
the hackney.
"I'm just going to take a look around," she
replied, nostrils flaring as she stepped back. "I
think I can smell something."
Ava's green skirts swished out of the carriage,
and Ingrid realized she intended to follow.
"Alone," she snapped, one hand to Ava's chest
to hold her safely inside.
Ava's green eyes widened a little. "Is
everything all right?"
"It's fine," Ingrid replied, cursing herself for
her bluntness. "But I'm going to be moving quickly,
and you yourself said that fieldwork sets your
pulse racing. It's probably best if you take the
information about the Doeppler orbs back to Baker
Street."
For if she smelled that scent correctly... a
vampire had recently passed through the area.
"If you see Byrnes, maybe send him this way,"
Ingrid said, still trying not to alarm the other
woman. Regardless of her and Byrnes's not-quite-
argument at the moment, she wasn't stupid enough
to track a vampire alone.
She just wanted to see what it was up to.
People spilled through the streets around them,