Mission_Improper

by Bec McMaster

  needed was the duke getting in the midst of all of

  this. Malloryn pulled strings. He didn't prance into

  vampire dens.

  "They're over. Martial law has been declared.

  Nobody is allowed out after night falls, and the

  Nighthawks are going to flood the streets."

  "Have you thought about this, your Grace?"

  Byrnes asked him. "We're going into vampire-

  infested tunnels. It's possible some of us might not

  return."

  Malloryn settled that unsettling blue stare

  upon him. "Do I look like I need you to hold my

  hand, Byrnes?"

  "I've never seen you fight. This won't be a

  duel, your Grace."

  "Oh, good. I'd best leave my rapier behind

  then," Malloryn replied, tugging off his cravat and

  then piling his rings in the mess of his coat.

  "Someone fetch me one of those armored

  waistcoats."

  "As you wish, your Grace," Jack murmured,

  and shot Byrnes a steady look as he left to find

  Malloryn some protective gear. Debney continued

  trying to fade into the wallpaper.

  "And stop treating me like I'm going to be

  bloody underfoot," Malloryn bellowed, so that

  Jack could hear it. He glanced at Byrnes.

  "Problem?"

  Byrnes crossed his arms. "You can come on

  one condition. You're not in charge of this mission.

  You don't have any experience in the streets, or

  beneath them. I do. Ingrid does. Even Charlie

  knows what he's doing. So order of command goes

  like this: Me, then Ingrid, then Charlie. If all three

  of us are down, then, and only then, do you get to

  take charge. One hint that you're not listening, and I

  will personally truss you up and deliver you to the

  Nighthawks until all of this is done, do you

  understand?"

  A slight smile crossed Malloryn's lips. "I

  think I can manage not to get myself killed. You're

  in charge. So let's get this briefing underway, shall

  we?"

  IN A WAY, Malloryn actually helped. The borough

  was quietly cleared by the Nighthawks, and a troop

  of the metal Cyclops suits that the humanists had

  created to overthrow the prince consort were

  supplied to help clear any tunnels. Charlie

  enthusiastically claimed one of them, strapping

  himself inside the heavy metal suit and tugging the

  harness into place.

  The entire thing was unnerving, but Byrnes

  had to admit that the enormous steel automaton

  would prove handy if they needed to clear tunnels

  or take on a vampire. It clomped along at his side,

  pistons hissing as Charlie worked the gadgetry

  inside it.

  “If all goes well, Zero will kidnap me off the

  streets, you’ll track me to her den, and then you can

  come in guns blazing and we’ll take down the

  entire nest of vampires in one fell swoop.” The

  plan pleased him, but he had to admit there was

  doubt there too. It knotted itself in his stomach like

  a leaden weight, and the cause of it tilted almond-

  shaped eyes up to his. “Ingrid,” he murmured,

  capturing her hand. “Don’t do anything stupid, and

  stay safe. You’re lucky I’m letting you do this.”

  “Letting me?” she replied, in the kind of tone

  that was the exact reason he hadn’t bothered

  arguing against it.

  This was one fight he wouldn’t win.

  “Zero’s made a threat against you,” he pointed

  out, and caught Charlie’s eye over her shoulder.

  They’d already had a quiet little chat, man-to-man.

  But the last thing he wanted was for her to know

  that. He squeezed her hand and dragged her closer,

  his voice lowering. “If anything happens to

  you….” This was unfamiliar terrain.

  Ingrid’s gaze softened. “I’m not the one

  walking into a vampire den unprotected,” she

  pointed out.

  “Then you know how I feel.”

  Ingrid toyed with the lapels on his coat. "I

  know how you feel."

  Their eyes met. Byrnes squeezed her waist.

  He'd never gone into battle like this—worried

  about anyone else's safety, or even his own, now

  that he had a promise to fulfill.

  "Are we quite done with the sweet nothings?"

  Malloryn asked, striding back to the group and

  priming his pistol. Sunrise turned his brown hair

  coppery.

  Byrnes stepped back from Ingrid and cleared

  his throat. He'd never been one for public displays.

  "Time to see if she takes the bait."

  Ingrid grabbed him by the lapels and hauled

  him against her. Clearly she disagreed. Their

  mouths met, fast and furious, and saying more than

  words.

  When she let him go, Byrnes cupped her

  cheek in his hand. So many emotions raced through

  her bronze eyes. He knew how much she'd lost,

  and how much she feared the idea that he might not

  return.

  "I'll come back to you, I promise. And I

  always speak the truth, Ingrid." Then, giving her

  one last kiss, he turned and walked away.

  HE WENT AHEAD ALONE.

  Ingrid bit her lip, pacing in the shadows as

  Byrnes's lean form slipped into the fog... then

  disappeared. She ached to go with him, to guard

  his back, but this task needed to be undertaken

  alone. Even if it felt like she was cutting her heart

  out of her chest.

  "He'll be all right," Charlie murmured. He'd

  managed to discreetly give them both some privacy

  by turning his face away and studying the wall as

  they kissed, but she didn't think much slipped past

  Charlie. Despite his youth, he wore the weight of

  the rookeries on his soul. "Byrnes knows what he's

  doing."

  It wasn’t so much doubt about Byrnes’s

  abilities that made her fret, but the fear that she’d

  never see him again. She’d tried so hard to keep

  him at bay, and yet in true Byrnes fashion he’d

  pushed his way into her life, aggravated her,

  argued with her, seduced her… and then stolen her

  heart when she wasn’t looking.

  Now she finally knew what it felt like to have

  something that she could lose. That certain little

  something she’d been missing from her life had

  come from an unexpected direction, but she

  couldn’t fight the fact that she wanted it. Wanted

  him. A future with him.

  And it was only now, standing on the

  precipice of losing him, that she could see that.

  "What if Zero doesn't decide to keep him?

  What if she sets her vampires upon him? Anything

  could go wrong." She could almost see it.

  "I know how you feel—"

  "How I feel?" she retorted. "How could you?

  You're just a boy."

  "I'm old enough." Shadows darkened those

  brilliant blue eyes as Charlie's entire demeanor

  changed. It happened so quickly that she realized

  just how much of a facade that cheerful mask was.

  "You're
afraid because he's walking into danger,

  and there's a chance—just a slim one—that

  something bad might happen and you cannot protect

  him. That's the worst part of this, the fact that

  there's not a damn thing you can do to help. The

  lack of control.... You just have to hope for the

  best."

  Shame washed through her. She was taking

  her emotions out on him, and it was clear from

  Charlie's tone that he had someone he worried

  about too. "I'm sorry," Ingrid said gruffly. "I'm on

  edge, and—"

  “Don’t worry about it.” Charlie flashed her a

  smile. “You’re not the first verwulfen I’ve ever

  dealt with.”

  Ingrid realized she was pacing and stopped,

  brushing her knuckles restlessly against the seam of

  her pants. "Who is she?"

  "Who?"

  "The girl you were speaking of; the one you

  worry about."

  The humor dissolved off his expression.

  Charlie glanced down, thick blonde lashes hiding

  the slither of a blue blood's hunger as it flashed

  darkly across his irises. "Who said I was speaking

  of any girl in particular?"

  "Your tone. Your voice. The fact that you

  cannot control your hunger when you think of her.

  It shows in your eyes." As Charlie fell into

  stillness, she added, "You don't have to tell me."

  "Helps take your mind off matters, doesn't it?"

  Charlie sighed, then glanced at the tracking device

  that he held in his hand; the one they would use to

  hunt Byrnes down if he didn't rendezvous with

  them at the appointed time. "Her name is Lark. And

  she hates me."

  "Why?"

  "I did something reckless during the

  revolution, and the man she thought of as a father

  died because of it. He took a bullet that was meant

  for me." Charlie's voice broke, and he fiddled with

  the tracker in his hand, his agile thumb toying with

  the small compass arrow that was pointing due

  south. Toward where Byrnes had disappeared.

  "Lark's barely spoken to me since that day. That's

  one of the reasons I took this commission when

  Blade told me about it. I just... I needed to get out

  of the rookeries for a while."

  "I'm sorry."

  A translucent smile darted over his face,

  bittersweet and half mocking. "That's why you

  should be careful with Byrnes's heart, Ingrid. You

  just never know when you might lose such a thing

  —”

  The compass arrow suddenly jerked. Both she

  and Charlie leapt to their feet, staring down at it.

  "Why did it do that?" Ingrid whispered.

  Charlie's face paled. "Something happened."

  Something... Byrnes....

  She started to run, but Charlie nearly jerked

  her off her feet. "No!" he told her fiercely, his hand

  locked around her wrist. "No, we can't just rush in

  there looking for him. Zero might not kill Byrnes,

  but she'll cut you down without a second's

  thought."

  Ingrid glared at him. "That's why you're here,

  isn't it? To stop me from—"

  “Doing something reckless.” Charlie's grip on

  her arm slackened, but didn't disappear. "He wants

  to keep you safe. He told me about the threat

  against you."

  A growl sounded in her throat. "And what

  about him? Who's going to protect Byrnes?"

  “We all are,” Charlie replied. “Time to bring

  in the others. Zero’s taken the bait.”

  A whirring sound stopped her tirade in its

  tracks. Ingrid's gut plummeted through the soles of

  her boots.

  The arrow was spinning.

  A HAND REACHED out and jerked the black

  hood off his head.

  Byrnes flinched as light stabbed his sensitive

  eyes. He scrambled back, but his hands were

  bound to the chair they'd thrust him into and the

  chair only scraped on the stone floor. Zero circled

  him with slow sideways steps, wearing a set of

  black leather breeches similar to the Nighthawks

  uniform and a burgundy-colored coat made of

  velvet. Her silvery hair curled over her shoulder in

  loose waves, and kohl darkened her eyes.

  Rather than finding it enticing, his blood

  chilled. Four maggot-pale vampires lolled around

  the room, resting on the rug in front of the fireplace

  like hounds. Each of them wore a thick leather

  collar with metal coils and wires through it.

  "Looks like you found me, after all." Zero

  smiled, and somehow Byrnes forced himself to

  drag his gaze back to her.

  "Looks like I did," he replied, swallowing his

  fear and distaste. "Now what?"

  "Now," she whispered, straddling his thighs

  and curling a hand around his neck, " my friends

  take care of your friends."

  Byrnes's blood ran cold. "What?"

  "Oh, Byrnes," Zero crooned, tugging at his

  shirt collar and fiddling with it flirtatiously.

  "Please tell me you didn't think I wouldn't notice a

  half dozen Nighthawks wandering around my

  asylum? And your pretty little friend... the

  verwulfen bitch. She looks lonely—" Lifting a

  small flute, she blew out a series of notes. "I think

  she needs someone to play with, now that you're

  mine."

  Several chitters echoed out of the shadows of

  the room as all four vampires sprang to attention.

  Zero lifted a small control box with an antenna on

  the end and smiled at him as she pressed the

  button.

  Electricity buzzed, and two of the vampires

  sank back down, resting their heads on their claws

  as static crackled over their collars. One of them

  had clearly been a woman, with sagging teats and

  straggly white hair that hung in clumps from its

  skull. The other two headed for the door as Zero

  played the same set of notes on her flute.

  Byrnes tried to struggle, but it was no use.

  Zero's weight and the manacles were too strong for

  him.

  "Go and glut yourselves, my pretties," she

  hissed behind her to the pair of vampires that slunk

  out through the door, before wrapping her arm

  around his neck playfully and crooning, "After all,

  we wouldn't want to be disturbed. Would we?"

  THIRTY-ONE

  "AN ASYLUM."

  Of course. The map showed that Byrnes’s

  beacon signal was coming from the abandoned St.

  Mary's Home for the Criminally Insane.

  "Makes sense," Charlie replied, taking a step

  in the heavy Cyclops suit that he wore. Pistons

  hissed as he knelt to peer through the opening that

  he'd just made using the Cyclops to tear down half

  a brick wall. All Ingrid could see through the glass

  slits in the Cyclops's headpiece was his pale face

  with that mop of blond curls. "They'd have cells

  here to incarcerate their vampires when they

  weren't using them. Or to hold people perhaps.

  And they're sitting right on top of this abandoned


  section of Undertown. Nobody would even see

  them coming in and out."

  "Plus the asylum's reputation would keep

  most curious onlookers at bay," Garrett noted,

  running a hand down the stone wall. The

  Nighthawks guild master insisted upon coming

  along and bringing two of his men. Something

  about a debt he owed Byrnes from a few years ago.

  Water dripped in the darkness through the

  hole Charlie had just made, but apart from that, all

  was silent. The smell, however....

  "Jesus," Garrett muttered.

  Ingrid had smelled death before. "That smells

  like old death," she told him. "Something's been

  dumping bodies just through here." One of the

  EMLEDs in hand, Ingrid crept through the hole in

  the wall onto a ledge, and looked down. The

  Electro-Magnetic Light Emitting Device would be

  one of their greatest weapons this morning.

  The room fell away into a pit with a narrow

  pair of boards stretched across it. Ingrid squatted

  on the plank and then activated the EMLED,

  dropping it down into the hollow below.

  The light tumbled end over end, then splashed

  to a halt far below. Something looked up and

  hissed, it's eyes shining blue-white with cat shine,

  and then the shadowy creature fled into the

  darkness. And that's when Ingrid began to make out

  the bodies.

  Bone gleamed as the EMLED burned like

  phosphorus. There were the ragged remains of

  clothes and misshapen lumps of rotting flesh. She

  didn't need to see more.

  "Vampire below," she murmured over her

  shoulder, looking into the darkness where the

  planks stretched. "I'm guessing this is where they

  dump the bodies. You're going to have to leave the

  Cyclops suit here, Charlie. The plank won't sustain

  the weight."

  "Kincaid," Charlie murmured, touching the

  communicator in his ear. "Can you hear me?"

  A static buzzing sounded, and Charlie's

  shoulders eased in relief. "We've got something

  here," he said. "Found a vampire, and maybe a

  way into Zero's holdout. She's been using the old

  asylum as a vampire den. Ingrid and I are going

  in."

  Static crackled, and Charlie smiled as he let

  go of the button. "I think he's actually starting to

  come round," he joked quietly. "Even wished us

  luck."

  "Really?" Garrett arched a brow.

  "Well, it was more like, 'Go kill them

  bloodsuckers, and don't get bit, 'cause I ain't comin'

  in after you.'"

  Ingrid had to grudgingly admit that Charlie