Brass and Bone (10 page)

“You see, my dear old fellow?” Abigail said. “No hole. The bullet went through you—I have it in my pocket—” Really, Abigail has the most grisly tastes! “—but you’ve healed, thanks to Mademoiselle Cynara!”

Cynara rose wearily and stepped closer. She swayed, and Abigail turned me loose to assist her.

“It is…my power,” Cynara whispered. “It is…what I do. I am a healer.”

“Well, I say. This is a corker. Does it work every time? I mean, can you do hangovers and such?” I was hoping to see her smile and was delighted when my plan succeeded.

“That is not something I have ever tried, my…Mr. Thorne.” Already her voice was sounding stronger. “The healing…takes a great deal of energy, both from me and from the subject. It is lucky you are so strong.”

“Energy from you?” I cried, aghast. I stepped forward and took her other arm. “Do you mean you weakened yourself to save me? How…how…how can I ever thank you?”

“Indeed, mademoiselle,” Abigail said, her voice as grave and solemn as ever I’d heard it. “I owe you more than you can imagine.” Well, you can imagine just how that made me feel! “But I believe,” she continued, in a brisker voice now, “we should get out of here. I’ve a carriage waiting for us in the little village down at the bottom of this hill, so if you two are quite through confiscating the spoils of war, why don’t we get going?”

Rupert tightened the neck of his sack and swung it over his shoulder. “Just coming, m’lady.”

D’Estes turned as well, a satisfied smirk on his face.

At that instant, one of the dead men rose up. I saw him over Cynara’s shoulder.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rupert turning, a knife flying from his hand to blossom in the throat of the bandit with the revolver. Cynara dropped to the floor in a dead faint. I wanted to go to her; I truly did.

A strange dimness rose before me. I fought against it for as long as I could.

Really, this is getting to be quite a habit,
I thought.

Then I could fight it no more. Darkness descended at last.

I seemed to go from sleep to wakefulness in an instant. Though the shadows were thick, it only took a moment for me to realize where I was. The wooden walls and comfortable bedding told me I was back aboard the
Invincible
. As I struggled to push the covers aside, a hand shoved me back against the pillows. I tried to push it away, but I was too weak.

“It’s all right, my darling. You’re safe. I have you back.”

Henri was leaning over me. He brushed my hair away from my forehead, as if I were a sick child instead of the woman I knew he despised.

Henri?

I heard a hiss of gas, and the lights in the cabin dazzled me when I blinked. As soon as I could open my eyes I looked up into Henri’s dark, dark irises. And was that relief I could see in there? Surely, I must be wrong.

I was confused by my nightmares. And as I stared at Henri’s veiled expression, the memories that had spawned my horrible dreams came flooding back.

The bandits. The blood-soaked man. The gunshot.

Simon.

I jerked my hand away with a cry and shoved him aside. Weak though I was, I almost made it to the door before he caught me. I whirled to face him, scarcely recognizing my own voice. “Let me go, Henri, I beg! I must see him. Did I help him enough? Is he well, is he free? Is he…alive?”

Henri grew angry, I could see, but I did not care. I needed to know.

“Get back on the bed, Cynara,” he ordered. “You had quite the excursion over the past two days.”

I ignored his harsh tone but ceased my struggle. Henri led me back to the bed. I sat down, itching with impatience though I looked at him in silence.

“Monsieur Thorne…” he had to force the words between his clenched teeth, “is perfectly fine, though still somewhat weak. Though it concerns me he has been just as insistent—or perhaps adamant is more the word—on seeing you as you are him this morning.”

Of course Simon was. I had healed him. I had seen the wound close beneath my hands. I shook my head to chase away the final threads of the vivid dream where Simon had not been healed. One where he’d died in my arms instead.

Henri knelt down before me, forcing my head around to face him. I resisted the urge to pull away as he brushed my disheveled hair back from my eyes. “Cynara, have you gone completely mad? Your little escapade almost cost us this assignment. Imagine what I would have faced if we had to return to Eli with his damned box instead of delivering it to the wilderness as he so madly insists! To teach you a lesson, I should beat you within an inch of your life.” He shook me, but gently. “Of course, it would do no good, no good at all.”

I freed myself from his grasp and stood, but Henri didn’t notice how his words enraged me, bringing up a fierce anger that burned within me. He was too wrapped up in his own rant.

I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “All my fault, was it? As if I could control an earthquake or stop the bandits before they kidnapped us. Your faith in my abilities surprises me, Henri.”

“I know what you are capable of far more than you yourself. But this assignment for WFG is vastly important for me. Yet you run off! You defied my direct orders.”

I could feel my anger flashing in my eyes as I tried to sputter a response to him. In my delay, Henri grabbed me in an unexpected and unwanted embrace.

He whispered against my ear, his voice soft and yet so full of the malice I’d come to associate with him. “And if you believe that you can escape from me, hide behind that bastard you’ve attached yourself to, then you do not know me at all.”

I shoved him with such strength that I fell back, but I moved quickly enough to close the gap between us so that I could meet his dark expression with one of my own. “I do know you. I know you care more for my wealth than me. I know you are convinced of some ridiculous claim that I am yours, that you can command me as you wish. But let me tell you this one thing, Henri d’Estes. I will speak with, I will see, anyone I wish. Without your damned threats hanging over my head.”

The fight darkened his features; he was attempting to hold back his temper. Instead of the anger I expected, a cold smile etched itself across his handsome features.

“Stay here and rest, my dear girl. When you have come to your senses, then perhaps you will have earned my permission to join the rest of us.”

He turned on his heel, storming out of the room. The tension left me as soon as he did. But when I heard the lock on the door click into place, I realized what he had meant. Henri was locking me in. Keeping me where he wanted me.

I rushed across the room, grabbing the handle and shaking it. Nothing happened. I banged my fist against the wood once in my frustration before sliding down against it. I had done so well at keeping my hurt regarding Henri’s treatment toward me at bay, but this was too much.

The longer I stayed there, the more the memories of that last night in captivity played again and again in my mind. How the bandits had hurt one another just to see if I could truly heal them. As if my powers were a sport for them. How my anger had taken over, and I became determined to do anything to set us free.

I had never been happier than when Lady Abigail opened the door to that horrible room, though the man had been quick enough to grab me to protect himself. Then Simon entered, and I saw that he was well. Relief like nothing I’d ever experienced broke through my fear, but it was erased at once when a shot rang out—Simon jumped before Lady Abigail, and he fell. I wanted to scream, even willed one to come forth, but no sound escaped me as Rupert’s knife found its mark over my own shoulder. The man crumbled, and I rushed over to where Simon had collapsed. Lady Abigail had gathered him to her, moaning and cursing.

“Captain Moran,
s’il vous plait
. Allow me…” I finally said.

She glared at me but fell silent as I explained to her what I could do. I tried to press upon her that there wasn’t much time. After what seemed to be an eternity, Lady Abigail released Simon just enough for me to reach the wound. I pushed open his shirt and jacket, placing my palms against his chest. Though I was still bound, my power had begun to flow through me. Simon’s body shuddered, and soon—I could only pray it was soon enough—the wound began to close. I will admit, the room darkened around me until at last, Simon was whole once more.

I groaned once before falling back against Rupert. He freed my hands from their chains and settled me into a rickety chair. Simon awoke only a few minutes later. He was sore and confused, but my dearest friend was alive. That was all that mattered.

It had all been too much. Too soon for my heart to accept all that had happened. I buried my head against the thin cloth of my gown and allowed my emotions to overwhelm me.

***

I was never one who could be set to tears for long, so it was soon enough that I became resolved in finding a way out of the prison Henri had created. In my attempts I destroyed an entire box of my most expensive hairpins trying to open that damned door. But then, I’d never been one for locks. My life as a thief had been limited to charming passing patrons on the streets of Paris. Or picking their pockets if there was nothing more I could do to separate them from their money.

When I was spent, and the wooden floor was covered with the little bent pieces of brass, I relented to dressing myself to focus my mind on anything other than the walls that seemed to grow closer with every passing hour. I was sitting at my makeshift dressing table, praying to my own reflection in the dancing glow of the gaslight, when I heard the lock click once and the door swing open.

“Cynara.”

I whirled around toward the voice and uttered a small cry of happiness before rushing across the room. Simon shut the door, crossing the floor to me, as I launched myself into his embrace. We held each other, whispering breathless phrases of nothingness before he spun me around once and set me back before him. He was speaking, but I didn’t hear him. I was too focused on searching him for any sign of injury, pressing my fingers against the bones in his arms, his chest, to ensure that he was intact. I gave a slight laugh at my own success before I realized he’d stopped trying to speak and was watching me with a mixture of amusement and concern.

“Thank the gods…you are well,” I said.

“I am.” Simon grabbed my hand and led me to the bed. After I sat down, he beside me, he began to look me over. “But what of you? Are you truly all right, Cynara?”

I wanted to tell him everything. Relinquish the burdens that made my heart so heavy. But as I searched his topaz eyes, that selfish desire left me. Instead I shook my head. “I am fine,
mon ami
. Only, when I woke up this morning, my door was locked.”

Simon nodded, his bright features overcome with a shadow that I couldn’t understand. “That would be your Henri’s doing. He was quite adamant about not allowing anyone in to see you. He claimed you wished to be alone.”

“Alone.” I breathed out the word, and shook my head. “
Non
. I am quite pleased to see you, my dear Simon. I fear this is my punishment from Henri for sneaking off the other night.”

“Punishment?” Simon clasped both of my hands into his, wrapping his thin fingers around them as if to hold them into place. “But you are no longer a prisoner of the Witchfinders. He must know—”

“
Oui
, I am.” I looked down at our hands, trying to find the right words to say. “I will always be until I’ve completed my side of the bargain. Then and only then will Henri release me. You must realize this too, I think. Or else you wouldn’t be here.”

Though only a moment had passed, it seemed as if it were an eternity before he spoke again.

“I’m here to thank you. To make sure you are all right. You saved my life when you healed me, Cynara. Simple as that. I can’t thank you enough for what you did, nor can I tell you…” I could feel Simon’s eyes searching me just before he released my hands and took my face between his palms. “I don’t know what possessed me when I saw you being held by that bandit, nor can I explain my fear when I saw them pull you away from me. Indeed, I don’t understand my own feelings for—”

I reached up, pressing my hand against his mouth to stop his words before they could be released. Or perhaps, before he could regret them. “Simon, stop. I am fine. I swear it. But the words you are about to utter…by all the gods, do not. I too am confused. Yet I do not wish to come between you and your Abigail. She is the woman you truly love, not I. And I fear what you feel now will turn to hate if I come between the two of you. I consider you a dear friend, and I do not dare take the slightest chance of losing you.”

Simon nodded, and I dropped my hand. I was grateful when he changed the subject with his next words. “I still do not believe you were able to heal me, despite what Abigail said. It is too much like fiction, this. I’ve seen the damage a gunshot can cause, yet I find no evidence of an injury on my person.”

“Would you prefer I showed you,
mon ami
?”

“However would you do that?”

Simon appeared surprised when I removed my jacket and began to undo the clasps around my wrists to push the sleeve of my shirt upward. I couldn’t help but giggle as he began to sputter. “Pray tell, but what are you doing?”

“Proving a point without ruining my attire.” I chuckled as his blush returned. I stood and took hold of my sharpest brooch pin, raking it across my arm until the flesh was dotted with blood from the cut.

I finished and bent down in front of him. Simon was still that charming shade of red, looking away from me until I giggled once more. “Oh, you are such a goose! I swear to all that is holy, I am not indecent. Now look.”

“And you, dear girl, are nothing short of a minx.”

When Simon finally turned toward me, I saw that he was teasing me. I held out my arm, and he took it. Within moments the blood stopped, and the rich pink surrounding the thin line disappeared. Soon after, the cut itself closed and faded.

“Incredible…” Simon muttered, no longer hesitant as his long fingers grazed the smooth skin now unmarred by any discoloration.

I fear my smirk disappeared the instant he touched me, and a short gasp escaped. At that moment I could focus on nothing. I was frozen into place by the feel of his touch against my skin, staying completely still as he examined me. The spell he had cast continued as he turned my arm over.

Simon studied the area of my cut in silence. But I studied him as well, taking in how his breathing had quickened. He was so close. Too close. All too soon the passion that had overwhelmed me in San Remo returned, and I felt the flush from it overtake me.

It appeared that same spell had taken hold of him as well. Instead of increasing the distance between us, which I had expected when he was satisfied, Simon reached out to grasp the side of my throat with his palm. He moved as if I would pull away, slowly and carefully just before his lips pressed gently against my own. I couldn’t stop myself and responded in kind, leaning into his embrace as the sweet spell took hold. It broke only when we parted.

Simon whispered against my lips. “
Merci beaucoup,
Minx. For showing me this. For everything.” He placed another featherlight kiss to my forehead before standing to leave the room. Though I fear our embrace left me weakened and breathless in the shadows, I found my voice just as Simon was about to pull open the door.

“Simon, may I ask you a single question?”

My companion stopped to face me, a small smile replacing his stoic expression.

“However did you unlock that door?”

Simon chuckled. “It’s no great mystery, my dear girl. I simply used the key.”

“The key? But Henri…”

He shrugged. “Your Henri isn’t the only one with access to these locks. Indeed, I’m surprised he has those keys in his possession.”

Henri’s threats concerning Simon filled me with a fear so sudden that it stabbed sharp against my heart. I shook my head in response, ignoring the curious look he gave me. “
S’il vous plait,
Simon. When you leave, secure the door once more.”

“I will do no such thing! Why, I’d—”