Mission_Improper

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,