A Study in Darkness (43 page)

“That’s not a problem anymore,” he said, sounding almost amused. “Athena has taught me much about my Blood.”

“So that’s how …”

Before she could finish, he pulled her to him, warm and strong. A rush of sudden shyness took her, making her drop her eyes and turn her face away. This was the same old Nick, and yet he was utterly new. Her cheek brushed the soft fabric of his shirt. He smelled of soap and healthy male, and the flutter in her stomach turned to a delicious warmth. He tipped her face up, cradling her to his chest as if she were a wounded thing. And then his lips found hers, both gentle and bold, kissing one corner of her mouth, then the other, nipping her bottom lip, then the top. Evelina kissed him back, opening her lips to catch the maddening, biting teeth, and then finding herself lost in a deep, hot kiss. Then all sensation fell away but the taste of him, the heat, and the hunger.

“I thought we were taking things slowly,” she protested.

“I don’t know how to go slow.”

His hands found the buttons of her jacket, slipped one, then the next free to loosen the collar. She’d worn ball gowns that had dipped almost indecently low, but Nick’s lips on the sliver of throat he uncovered made her feel infinitely more daring. His heart pounded beneath the silk of his waistcoat, hard and quick against the palm of her hand. As she slid her hand down his chest, muscles jumped, live and electric, beneath her touch. A rumble came from deep inside him, vibrating through her. She sucked in a gulp of air, suddenly
giddy with the contrast of the heat where they touched and the coolness of the September world around her.

His hands ran down her shoulders until he found the line where her stays cupped her breasts, then he let his fingers stray across the curve of it, his touch as light as a bird’s wing. His breath released, a shuddering sigh, and fanned hot across her cheek.

Desire foundered her, filling her senses and leaving reason shattered beneath their feet. She could feel his magic now—bright as a sword in the sun, as a dawn on Midsummer Day. It was like nothing she’d ever known, and she realized that he’d been hiding the strength of his Blood since they’d met last night. It had an attraction all its own, the way the loudest roar or the longest mane called to the lioness.

“You have changed,” she murmured.

He didn’t need to ask what she meant. “I’ve learned control over my power.”

“If not over some other impulses.”

Evelina pulled away, needing to clear her head. Athena’s Casket had taught him more than control; the deva had shown him how to marshal his strength, the way Magnus had been teaching her. She could feel it hard and hot inside him.

He studied her face. “You’ve changed, too. There is a new darkness in your power.”

“Things have happened.”

“Be careful,” he murmured, running his thumb along the curve of her cheek. “I’ve always thought of you as my dark goddess. Don’t take that too literally.”

Evelina smiled, but was already wondering how she was going to keep Nick from finding out she was learning her magic from the very sorcerer Nick and Striker had done their best to kill.

EVELINA RETURNED TO THE MAGNETORIUM MUCH LATER
that afternoon. She’d taken a long route home to clear her head, but she had promised to meet Nick again later that night. After so long apart—and now that so many barriers were gone—they both felt an urgency to make up for lost time.

Yet still more obstacles awaited. In three and a half days, she would deliver the Gold King’s answers, and then—what? Go home? Have tea? Go walking with her pirate through Hyde Park on a fine day? Where did Nick fit with her life?

Evelina pushed through the back door to the theater and set her purchases down on the workbench. Her trip to the market had taken far longer than intended and the other employees had arrived. She hadn’t mixed with them much, but she’d learned their names.

The ones that worked with the dolls were Franco and Vitale, and at the moment they were getting the automatons into their costumes. The two assistants didn’t speak English—or pretended not to—and her Italian was limited to opera lyrics. And since she didn’t want to serenade them, seduce them—they were both far too old—or swear vengeance, she was reduced to sign language.

“Serafina,” Franco said, pointing at the ceiling the moment Evelina had set down her things. Then he wiggled two fingers, mimicking someone walking up stairs and then down again.

“She’s gone upstairs?” Evelina asked. “You want me to go find her?”

“Up.” He pointed, and then did the finger stairs again.

Evelina complied, mounting the narrow staircase. It was the same path she took to Magnus’s rooms for her morning magic lessons, and it already felt familiar, the particular creaks of the old wooden steps a worn-out song.

Whether she liked it or not, Magnus had opened her eyes to the possibilities of her magic. Not just knowing how to use it, but how to enjoy it—and to enjoy the freedom of talking about it. And yet, while she wanted more, and yet more, the experiment with the wand had terrified her. It had reminded her that the road Magnus showed her would eventually go places she didn’t want to travel. He was, and always would be, a sorcerer.

Still, she would learn what magic she could while she worked under his roof. Nick might have his air deva to learn from, but Evelina was of the earth. She had never been able to speak to Athena the whole time the cube had been in her possession, so there was no hope of honing her craft alongside Nick. Their Bloodlines might be able to coexist now, but they still weren’t the same.

Unfortunately, if she wanted Nick, she would have to give up Magnus—and that meant no more lessons.
Three and a half more days
. And yet, there was no way she could let Nick go. Not again. She would have to make hard choices, and she was in no rush to do it.
Keating has to let me stay a little longer
.

She reached the top of the stairs, looking for Serafina. She found her standing outside the locked room, except that it was no longer locked. It stood open, curtains drawn, the floor dusty around the edges.

Curious, Evelina looked inside. There was a clean square in the middle, as if a carpet had been removed. And then shock ran through her, the jolt like a spell gone wild—followed by a tight, hard anger.

Open crates of mechanical supplies ringed the room—enough to repair a small village of automatons.
So why was I running all over Whitechapel looking for parts, if these were up here?
She bent to take a closer look. These weren’t dusty, so they had recently arrived.
And if Magnus is in fact
the Blue King’s maker, he would have access to whatever he needed, wouldn’t he? He simply brought these from wherever the Blue King has his stores. So why send me to Nick, unless …

“Damn and blast,” she muttered. So Magnus
had
sent her to the Saracen’s Head to lure Nick. Magnus had always wanted Athena’s Casket, and no doubt he had a bone to pick with the men who had tried to kill him. She’d suspected it before, but this was as close to proof—or a warning—as she was likely to get. Was he presenting a choice—her magic or Nick? Giving her an opportunity to betray her friend and prove her loyalty to her teacher?

Suddenly, in a simple, quiet way, everything became clear. On some level, Magnus was using her as bait. And if that was the case, she didn’t want his instruction as badly as all that. She had to get the information she needed and get out—especially if Nick was in danger.

Evelina started as something touched her shoulder. She whirled to find Serafina standing there, head tilted slightly to the side. She’d forgotten the doll was there.

“Are you well?” Serafina asked in her strange, metallic voice.

“Yes,” Evelina answered, a little unnerved that her distress would be evident to something that wasn’t even human. Then she noticed the doll was staring into the recently unlocked room. “Why are you here?”

“I am trying to remember this place,” answered the doll. “I remember waking up in there, and I was very afraid. But I can’t remember why.”

Evelina stared, forcibly struck by how different she was from Casimir. “What do you think happened?”

Serafina blinked her blue glass eyes. “Dr. Magnus repaired me and made me superior to what I was before.”

“Is that what he said?” The words sounded like something she’d learned by rote.

“Yes. And I daresay it is true, but I do not remember everything from before.”

So it had been Serafina’s hospital room behind that locked
door. Another of Magnus’s experiments. Why there, and not in the workshop below?

“I wish I remembered. There are times that I do not understand myself. My logic processor does not always seem to be properly assembled. And I am not like the others, and yet I am not like you. Is there something amiss with me?” The automaton walked to the window and looked out, every line of her body poised in longing. She reminded Evelina of a caged bird, too rare for its keeper to let fly.

“No.” Mechanically, Serafina was perfect. “I think we all have days when we feel like we don’t fit. And we all have days when our logic processors seem faulty.”

Serafina turned her pure blue eyes on Evelina. “Is that really true?”

Caught between her uncle’s rational universe and her innate magic, between the affluent world of the gentry and her childhood in the circus, Evelina’s world was full of contradictions. “I am still trying to figure out who I am and where I belong.”

Evelina studied the doll, the late-afternoon light slanting through the window to set her auburn hair on fire. It was almost the same color as Alice Keating’s, and the blue of their eyes was the same, too—but there the similarities ended. Where Alice had a fully formed personality, there was still something unfinished about Serafina.
Just how sentient is she?

“It’s time for you to dress,” Evelina said brightly. “You are to be the Beauty in the Sleeping Wood tonight.”

The doll seemed to draw herself up. “I do enjoy that role.”

“Your dress for it is beautiful,” Evelina said, folding the doll’s arm over hers in the same way she would Imogen’s. Maybe it was because she missed her friend so much, and maybe because Serafina seemed to need someone to protect her.

“Am I beautiful?” Serafina wondered.

“Of course,” Evelina said automatically. Serafina was the most exquisite automaton she’d ever seen. The doll tilted its head again. That seemed to be its indication
of curiosity. “Is that why people applaud when I dance?”

There were so many questions that it was like dealing with a child. Did Magnus never talk to her? “In part. But you dance very well. You must not forget that.”

“I like dancing.”

“It shows.”

“Good. I feel when I dance. Just like when I’m with people who like me. Some of the people who come to see me dance like me a great deal. They make me feel, too.”

They started for the stairs, Evelina pondering that last statement. “What do you feel?”

“Like I’m more than I am the rest of the time. Like I’m at peace.”

“Peace,” Evelina repeated, wondering what that meant for a doll.

IT WAS LONG
after dark when Evelina finished her work at the Magnetorium and started toward her rendezvous with Nick. She had taken time to comb her hair carefully, doing her best to tame it without the scented oils she used at home. And she’d done what she could with her clothes, using the brushes from the dolls’ costume trunk to make sure her hem and cuffs were free of spots and lint.

But those were not her only preparations. With all the talk about the death of Annie Chapman and the other murders, she’d strapped the Webley revolver beneath her skirt, making sure it was easy to reach through a slit in her pocket. Nick had said he’d be waiting inside the Ten Bells, but she found him slouching against the wall of the tavern instead, scanning the street with an air of intense concentration. He stood up as he saw her approach, tugging his jacket straight and touching the brim of his hat.

“Taking the air, Captain?” Evelina asked. In the blue-tinted haze of the gaslight, he looked older than his years, sleek and worldly. Her heart gave an extra beat as he began walking to meet her.

“Too many people inside,” he said, one corner of his mouth turning up. “I wouldn’t want to miss you.”

Evelina was lost for a moment, not quite believing he was there. Joy stole up on her, making her smile before she knew it was happening. “I can’t fault your caution. There are a few of the local beauties who’d tie you to a chair the moment they saw you. You’re such a likely-looking lad, and they’re not the type to share.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve seen the women in there. I’m not a paying customer.”

Evelina bit her lip, trying not to laugh at his skeptical expression. “I think they would count themselves at the better end of the bargain nonetheless.”

He drew himself up in mock affront. “Is my virtue at risk?”

“Oh, no, I’m not about to speculate on that mythical beast!”

“Evie Cooper, for shame. You have no faith in me.” He grinned a moment, and then jerked his head toward the door of the Ten Bells. “Is this the best place for a private conversation, given the rampaging locals?”