London Calling

by Sorcha Mowbray

  Griff wasn’t particularly pleased with the plan. Specifically the part where Jo was in danger. But, he realized arguing with her would be pointless and slow him down, so he nodded, as did Holt.

  “Excellent, I need but an hour to make the change and then we can go. I will meet you both here, though we’ll need to leave separately.” Jo was like a field marshal giving orders.

  Turned to the window to avoid giving away his own plans, he simply replied, “We will see you later.”

  Jo flattened against his side and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “All will be well, my love.”

  “Yes, it will.” And she would be safe. Spitting mad, no doubt, but safe for all that. As soon as she departed, he turned around and pinned Holt to the spot where he stood.

  The other man held up one hand. “Before you say anything, I don’t suppose there is any chance I can talk you out of whatever it is you’ve got planned?”

  “No,” Griff said. “I cannot watch her walk into danger on my behalf anymore. The fight in the air lock nearly killed me.”

  Holt pinned him where he stood with an implacable stare. “She will be furious that you have cut her out again.”

  Griff considered the alternative, and determined quickly he would rather have her alive and angry than dead and happy. “It’s a price I’m willing to pay to keep her alive.”

  “Very well then, tell me how you are going to keep Jo safe.”

  Satisfied that Holt was on board, or would be, Griff explained everything.

  It took a mere twenty minutes to arrive at the Electric Cock. As one would expect in Cheapside, it was a ramshackle building that had a distinct lean to the left. Perhaps it had always been so, because the front door appeared to be cut to fit the left leaning hole that acted as an entrance. Determined to have the meeting over and done with before Jo could figure out what had happened, he strode into the tavern. Dell sat with his back to the wall near the fireplace. It was a damp day and the fire served to dry everyone out as well as to chase away the chill that came with the weather.

  A scant five steps brought him over to his onetime friend. “Dell.”

  He waved at the chair across from him and winced, “Sit, Griff. You’re drawing unwanted attention looming over me in that fashion.”

  Griff snorted and sat down. Dell had always resented being the shortest of the three of them. It wasn’t enough to have brains and good looks, the man seemed to need to be the best at everything. Always the one with the right answer, or so he’d argue until he and Cole gave up on more than one occasion. “Well, I’m here. Other than trying to kill me, what do you want?”

  “I want you to go away.” Dell’s tone sounded pleasant enough, but Griff had known him for many years and could hear the hostile undercurrents.

  “Simply pack up and leave London? Retire to the country?” He had to be honest, that was not what he’d expected from Dell. It didn’t seem enough like a win to satisfy the man he knew.

  Dell laughed and then sputtered as though in pain, the whole of it a bit of a manic sound which gave Griff pause. “Don’t be obtuse. I want you to pack up and leave England. Forever. You will never come back and never be known as the Earl of Melton again. For all intents and purposes, you will be dead. Or that will be the declaration made in seven or so years. Long enough to leave your seat empty and to remove your steam-mad influence from parliament.”

  Now this sounded more like the man he knew. So he’d be alive, but dead to all who relied upon him, who needed him. “You cannot possibly think I am the only Lord who is a supporter of steam technology in Parliament?”

  His old friend sneered at him. “No, but you are the leader of the Free Steam movement, even if no one else knows it. With you gone, I kill two birds with one stone and can start to reign in the other Lords. None of them are so enamored of the technology that if given another means to meet their needs, they wouldn’t switch. You though. You are one of them. One of those blasted tinkers who likes to build things and create machines that make it impossible for electricity to lead the way forward.”

  Griff considered his former friend’s scrunched up face and the vitriol that oozed off him as his hand clenched into a fist. “And what occurs if I do not agree to leave?”

  Dell looked him in the eyes, his gaze glassy and animated in a way that one might associate with a bedlamite. “You die.”

  The time for action had come, much sooner than he had anticipated. While he had not bothered to order a drink, Dell had a tankard sitting on the table. Griff grabbed the vessel and threw the contents of it into Dell’s face, unfortunately it was empty. In a moment of inspiration, Griff hurled the metal cup instead. He heard the thunk and a loud curse, so he assumed he hit his target. But he had not tarried to see since he had spun and lurched toward the entrance, thankfully still a mere five steps away. Just as he was about to make the door, a large hand landed on his shoulder and stopped all forward progress. Spun back around, he came face to face with a brute of a man.

  Just behind the behemoth hovered Dell, dancing about like an enraged rooster with a lame wing. “Kill him!”

  Determined to be free, Griff punched the man in his midsection to little avail. He had a throbbing hand and was no nearer escape. Amid the hubbub they had caused, he could see Holt fighting with another man as he tried to make his way through the crowd from the rear of the tavern. Seeing that he was very likely on his own, he reached down and yanked out the knife he’d tucked into his boot before leaving the house.

  Jo walked into chaos. The Electric Cock was a sea of heaving bodies, but for the moment there were only two she cared about. Still furious with Griff and Holt for leaving her behind, she found Griff immediately since he was closest to the door. The colossus that had him in his grips looked rather amused at the whole spectacle. Jo was neither amused nor interested in dragging the display out. This needed to end now.

  Blades and guns at the ready, she had gotten more than a few looks as she raced down the road on her steam-cycle. It wasn’t every day a woman tore through London harnessed with a dozen knives across her chest and two steam-pistols strapped to her thighs. Intent on ending things quickly, she drew her guns first. Griff was currently slicing his oversized assailant down to size. Dell, the root of all their issues, appeared to be watching intently as though waiting for something. Jo decided to end his suspense. She took aim and gently squeezed the trigger, unfortunately someone knocked her arm down, jarring the gun free from her grip, just as she fired. Instead of hitting Dell between the eyes, she caught the right side of his chest, possibly his shoulder. He went down, so she couldn’t be sure. Mad as hell, she turned and shot the man who’d knocked her arm with her left gun. He dropped the knife he’d been about to stab her with as he died at her feet.

  A quick glance to check on Griff revealed he was in trouble. The giant was wearing him down, but she still hadn’t seen Holt and she needed to ensure Dell was down permanently. Moving forward, she got close enough to the behemoth to jab a long wicked stiletto just between his ribs on his back. The wound would weaken him enough for Griff to finish the job and let her keep moving. After wiping her blade on her pants, she shoved it back in its sheath and knelt to check on Dell. Damn it, she’d winged his arm and he lay passed out like the coward he was…or was he playing dead? There were multiple ways to find out, she lifted her steam-pistol and cocked it. The man slapped the barrel away from his face and reared up to push her back.

  He grunted as his weight hit her, but whatever pain he felt, from either his ribs from the airship or the more recent shoulder wound, didn’t slow him down from attacking or talking. “You are turning into a very real pain in my ass.”

  Jo opted to conserve her strength and not waste the breath explaining to the fool that he was going to die and that his chatter was only going to expedite the process. So she let him shove her backwards and used the momentum to keep rolling. Back on her knees, surprise at her agility made him hesitate, which she capitalized on. In
the blink of an eye, she retrieved and threw a small knife that lodged in his other shoulder. With a growl, he yanked the blade from his flesh and stood up. She rose as well and met him in the middle as they clashed. They were wrestling more than anything when a flash of movement by the back of the tavern caught her eye. Holt!

  But her momentary distraction gave Dell the small window of opportunity he needed to slash her ribs and then try for the other side. Fortunately she managed to block his second strike. Unfortunately with the momentum he had, in addition to the drunk who stumbled into him from behind, he fell forward into her with his knife landing in her thigh. Jo cursed and slashed at his face with the blade in her hand causing Dell to howl as he jolted backwards, clutching his ruined cheek. Jo followed that up with a hard kick to his ribs near the spot she’d recently stabbed him on the Black Gryphon, all of which left the villain curled on the floor yelling in pain. By the time she turned to look for Holt, there was no sign of him.

  Griff materialized by her side. “Holt?”

  “He was just here.” She strained to look over the heads of the melee. “Your giant?”

  “Finally got the brute under control.” They continued to look for any sign of their friend, but to no avail.

  Annoyed, Jo turned to haul Dell off the ground and beat some answers out of him, but when she looked where she’d left him, he was gone. She and Griff flew out the slanted door just in time to see Dell and two of his minions throwing an unconscious Holt into a steam-car. Dell snarled at them as he clambered into the vehicle.

  Jo found it ironic that the man who had fought so hard to suppress steam technology was currently availing himself of it to escape. With a curse she turned to run back to where she’d left her steam-cycle, but Griff stopped her. “You need to have your wounds looked at before we go after him.”

  She wanted to do a little snarling of her own, but managed to keep her retort to a crisp few words. “If we let him go, we won’t know where to find Holt.”

  Griff indicated the fading headlights of the car with his chin. “Dell will be heading to the Lake District. His rich uncle, Sir Harold Hammersby, has a house there. The old goat is too old to be alive but too stubborn to die. He wouldn’t notice if Dell showed up there with a platoon of men, let alone one unconscious man.”

  “Then why waste time? If Cole can give us a lift in that airship, we can be there waiting for Dell when he arrives.” Jo was anxious about her friend even as the adrenalin began to wane and her ribs and leg throbbed.

  Griff seemed to consider her words and then he offered a decisive nod.

  14

  Jo sat in the chamber she and Griff had been assigned by Cole during their previous foray on the Sweet Annie. The ship’s medic knelt at her feet as he sewed her side up, one slow, painful stitch at a time. She really wanted to punch the man, but it wasn’t exactly his fault she’d been stabbed. He just had the unfortunate duty to fix things up…mostly her. The worst part of the whole process was that she knew she’d have to do a round two when he got a look at her leg wound. That one had gone deep as well and without looking, she knew stitches would be required. She found it annoying that with all the steam-tech available to modern Victorian Society, nobody had come up with a better way to close a damn wound. Something less painful. She cursed again, loudly and with great color. Or so she gathered from the rather wide-eyed look the airman gave her.

  “Have you never heard those words before?”

  He nodded. “Oh, I’ve heard them. Just never from a lady,” he said.

  Jo leaned toward him. “I’ll tell you a secret.” She glanced about as though revealing some great mystery. “I’m no lady.”

  He chuckled at her. “But you must be to mingle with the likes of Lord Melton and Captain Chapman. Those two are gentlemen through and through.”

  She winked at the older man. “Perhaps they’re slumming it with me.” She nodded as though it were true.

  “Ma’am, I’d have to say any woman who’s associating with those two must be a lady. Perhaps not in name, but in here.” And then he tapped his chest.

  A little stunned by the comment, she fell quiet. Sometimes the truest words came from the most unlikely sources.

  “All righty, miss. Is that the only hole I need to sew up?” he asked as he tied off the suture and spread a gel over the wound that Griff had given him.

  “I think you’d best take a look at my leg. I seem to have acquired a hole there as well.” Jo waved at her leg while she still processed the man’s words.

  He laughed a little. “Right you are. Quite a lot of undesired holes for such a pretty lady.”

  For possibly the first time outside of her time with Griff, she felt her cheeks heat at a simple, but sweet compliment. It was the exact kind of response Griff elicited from her, and why she suspected she was so drawn to him. In love with him. “Thank you…”

  “Frederick, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Frederick. You make a spinster like myself swoon. I dare say, Lord Melton best watch out for you.” And then she winked at him.

  Fred, as she instantly called him in her head, smiled and ripped her pant leg open. Then he was busy repairing her damaged thigh.

  Griff walked in just as the last stitch was being set. “Glad to see you didn’t maim anyone while they were trying to help you.”

  “There’s still time.” She couldn’t help but smile a little despite the bite in her words. She was still very angry with him and Holt for going to the meeting without her. As a result, Holt was now a captive of the maniac who wanted Griff dead.

  Fred added the med gel again and stood from his labors. “All set, ma’am. If you ever need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask old Fred.”

  “I wouldn’t find anyone else with so deft a touch. But don’t tell my maid I said that.” She winked at the gruff airman.

  “A real lady, I tell you,” he muttered and shuffled out the door.

  Griff glanced at her, then back at Fred as he left, and back to her. “I see you’ve managed to gather another among your harem of men.”

  Jo scoffed. “I believe the men of the middle east would object to so small a collection being referred to as a harem. And do not think for one moment that we are not going to discuss you and Holt leaving me behind. Nevertheless, how are we proceeding?”

  “I could not imagine you not wanting to discuss that topic as much as I wish you wouldn’t. Cole has us on course for the Lake District. We should arrive within the hour. The trouble is we don’t know Dell’s available modes of transport. He could be driving, which would give us the advantage. Or he could be using an airship, though where he would find another since the Black Gryphon was confiscated, I can’t imagine.”

  “I doubt Sir Hathaway was his only sponsor. It seems to me a man so determined to be rid of a technology would have more than one financier. So, let’s assume he has arrived at his uncle’s home. What is the best approach?”

  A knock at the door interrupted them. Griff opened it and let Cole in. “I hope I haven’t missed all the good parts,” Cole said and offered her a jaunty grin along with a pile of clothing. “I believe these should be close to your size.”

  “We were just discussing our plan of attack.” She eyed the dashing airship captain and his offering, then reached out and took the pile. “And thank you for the clothes.”

  “Of course. And this is terribly exciting, I haven’t gotten into a good scrape in far too long. Success has its downside, primarily a lack of adventure.”

  Griff scowled. “Cole, I can’t ask you to get any more involved—”

  “Do shut up, Griff. I am well and truly involved and I will come along on this little exploit. Consider it payment for my services.”

  Griff scowled again, but she decided to press on and accept the assistance. “Excellent. Another body in the fray will help immensely. Particularly since we don’t know how many men Dell has at his disposal right now. Based on that, I think we try to slip in, find Holt, and slip out. A front
al attack is not likely in our favor considering our available manpower.”

  Cole chuckled. “My dear Josephine.” His endearment had Griff scowling even more.” I doubt I could stop my men from joining in a good fight. I am not the only one chafing under the shackles of success. You have a veritable army at your disposal. If a frontal assault is your desire, my men will be game.”

  Jo couldn’t resist grinning at the charming rogue. He was terribly unprincipled and she suspected he enjoyed every moment of it. How he and Griff were such good friends she could not fathom, but somehow it was true. “Well then, let’s devise a strategy. The one thing we are short on is time.”

  Twenty minutes later, they had a plan. Cole left to organize his men, and Jo rose from the bed to change into the fresh garments. Griff stood there as though waiting for her to wobble or crumple. Despite the pain in her leg as she took a step, she grinned and kept moving toward the privacy screen in the corner of the room.

  Griff awkwardly cleared his throat, “I have seen you naked a time or two.”

  “Indeed, but I was not angry with you then.” She slipped behind the wood and fabric wall and worked her shirt free of her injured arm.

  “Jo, I did what I thought would keep you safe.” She could hear him shuffling around the room aimlessly, as though he didn’t know what to do with himself.

  She’d gotten her pants off and stood naked, both physically and emotionally. “I don’t question your motives. I considered slipping away to meet Dell and confront him myself. Perhaps just killing him and ending this. But then I thought about how angry you’d be if I did that. How you would feel as though I didn’t believe you were strong enough to be my partner, not just in this but in life. How perhaps—” She couldn’t continue. To say the words, to admit the one niggling fear that made her unsure if loving him was the right choice.

  Suddenly Griff was there, behind the screen, crowding her against the bulkhead of the ship. “I will always need you—love you. I’ve told you I can’t imagine not having you in my life.” And then he crushed his lips to hers and invaded her mouth. Tongues tangled, she barely noticed the metal beam and rivets grinding against her spine as need took over. She needed the man in her arms. Needed him to love her, and needed to love him in return.