Supernatural Devices (18 page)

“With me caught in the middle,” Scarlett pointed out.

Cruces looked briefly ashamed. “Yes. Please forgive me. If it weren’t for me, Rothschild would probably not have put his mark on you. He would not have kidnapped your friend.”

“But he would still be trying to find the Devices,” Scarlett said, “and for that, he would still need me.”

Cruces nodded. “That much is true. We cannot allow the Order to succeed, Scarlett. Their plans call for chaos and the sacrifice of innocents. I have lived among humans a long time. I have seen their brilliance and their foibles, the best and the worst of them. I do not want to see them hurt in the ways that the Order would hurt them if it were to succeed.”

“Neither do I,” Scarlett agreed.

“And I do not wish to see Rothschild using you like that. Believe me, Scarlett, I would never willingly see any harm come to you. Not from him. Not from anybody. If there were another way to do this that did not involve you…”

Scarlett kissed Cruces then, mainly to shut him up, so she thought. But he immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her with a kiss that made her toes curl. She kissed him for long seconds before finally pulling back, cradling his head in her hands. “There isn’t, though. I believe you, Cruces. Let’s stop the Order, and let’s find Gordon.”

****

Steampunk Scarlett’s adventures continues in

Book 2 of Steampunk Scarlett

Immortal Devices

December 2011

Immortal Devices

Steampunk Scarlett Novel #2

S
carlett sat in the dining room of her family’s London home, eating a breakfast that had been brought through by her maid, Frances. The young woman had arrived back from the country just this morning with several of the other staff, and currently seemed to be determined to make up for not having been there when Scarlett arrived by not letting her do anything for herself. Already, she had insisted on helping Scarlett dress in a simple dress of bright blue that went with Scarlett’s eyes, and put her blonde locks up in an elaborate arrangement that Scarlett had barely had the patience to sit there for.

The breakfast almost made up for it, though it was ludicrous, having to put up with the formality of a fully set dinner table even when breakfasting alone. Still, at least the tea was well made, the servants having long since learned how important it was to Scarlett. She sat there and sipped it, working her way through the food on the table methodically.

One of the broadsheets sat to one side, but there was little in it to catch Scarlett’s interest after the events of the previous evening. In a world full of secret orders and magical Devices, not to mention vampires bent on exploiting those Devices for their own ends, the news that the Empire was in discussions with Germany about reorganizing some of their African territories hardly seemed that important.

Scarlett sighed. She supposed most young women her age in London society would have been happy for an adventure like the one of the last few days to be over. They would have at least welcomed the opportunity to sit down and relax after days and nights spent investigating. They would not have been sitting there, tapping out an irritated pattern on the tablecloth with their fingertips in a way that would almost certainly have drawn a sharp word from her mother had she been there.

Of course, they presumably would not have felt quite so hemmed in by what passed for normal life. They would not have felt, as Scarlett had felt when Frances helped her to prepare for the day, that they were somehow being readied for a part playing the role of the dutiful young woman. What would her day include today? Visiting one of the families she knew in London? Reading some “improving” book or other? After yesterday, it hardly seemed like enough to fill the time.

Scarlett was still sitting there contemplating that when a knock came at the door. She resisted the urge to leap up and see who it was out of sheer boredom. After all, it was not done for well off young ladies to answer their own doors. Instead, she waited as patiently as she could while Frances hurried off to answer it, muttering darkly about people who called on others so early in the day, rather than at the usual hours for visiting.

It did not take long for Scarlett to detect the sounds of an argument, and less than a minute after that, a figure came barging into the room, pursued by Frances. He was a more than familiar figure, from his long, dark hair to the slightly tanned skin and strong features that made him more than handsome. Scarlett had looked into those Kohl lined green eyes just yesterday, after all. She had stared into them, and even kissed their owner, getting a vision from doing so in a way that she still wasn’t sure she fully understood. It had been a good kiss, too. Perhaps a day ago, that thought might have made Scarlett blush. She did not now.

“Tavian.”

“You know this gypsy, Miss Scarlett?” Frances asked with obvious concern. “He pushed his way right past me, demanding to see you.”

“Thank you, Frances,” Scarlett said with careful restraint as she stood. Would it make any difference to the maid if she knew that Tavian was not just a passing gypsy, but also one of the magical fey, left as a changeling after birth? No, probably not. “That will be all for now.”

“You want me to leave you alone in the room with this young man?” Frances sounded almost incredulous.

“That will be
all
, thank you, Frances.”

The maid hurried out, and for a moment, Tavian and Scarlett stood there looking at one another.

“Tavian,” Scarlett asked, “is everything all right? Please tell me you did not come over just to scandalize the servants.”

“No, I… it is better if I show you.”

Perhaps Scarlett should have guessed what Tavian meant before he rushed over and swept her into his arms. The kiss that followed was brief, but passionate. More than that, it brought with it images, exactly the same way that his kiss had let her see so much before. Only this time, it wasn’t the long distant past that Scarlett saw.

She found herself standing by Tavian’s caravan in the moments after Cruces had whisked her away the night before. How she knew that, Scarlett wasn’t entirely sure, but she
did
know it. She could see the almost unnatural good looks of the vampire Rothschild across from her, as well as Tavian’s sister Cecilia. Together they looked so similar, with the same dark hair, sharply elegant features and piercing eyes.

She and Tavian were attacking Rothschild in concert. Tavian was lashing out with Cruces’ fey spear, which could freeze a vampire in place with a wound, while Cecilia was using a knife that, even if not magical, still looked wickedly sharp. Between the two, Rothschild was having to keep his distance.

Cecilia was talking as she attacked. “You’re going to regret using me,” she promised, in tones that made Scarlett almost glad that the girl had no reason to hate her too. “First, my brother is going to freeze you, and we’ll kill you like the vermin you are. Then, I’m going to make sure that your Order doesn’t achieve anything, because I’m going to tell Miss Seely exactly how to find her friend Gordon.”

Gordon. Scarlett’s longtime friend and fencing teacher, whom she had believed had been helping with the case. It had turned out, however, that Cecilia had been impersonating him using the magic of the fey. The real Gordon had been moved to another world by Rothschild, using one of the magical rings created for the first vampire’s “children”. The idea had been to force Scarlett into tracking down the magical Devices for him as part of the search for her friend. If Cecilia knew of an easier way to find Gordon…

It was clear though that things were not going to be that simple. Even as Scarlett watched, Rothschild reached out to grab Cecilia, ignoring a thrust of the knife she held and then twisting it from her grip.

“I cannot let you tell her that, Cecilia.”

“What are you going to do?” the fey girl demanded. “Strangle me again?”

Rothschild laughed. Even though it was just a memory, and even though she knew what he was now, Scarlett could not help being caught up in the beauty of that sound. “I was thinking of something a bit more permanent, this time,” the vampire said.

He lifted his left hand, on which his ring glinted golden even in the moonlight. The air next to him and Cecilia seemed almost to split, tearing like the seam on a badly sewn garment. There was light beyond, so much of it that Scarlett could not see anything other than it past that gap. She saw Tavian start forward towards it, knowing already that he did not have the time.

He did not. Rothschild held Cecilia, lifted her, and stepped through the gap he had created as though it were nothing unusual. The gap sealed behind him almost instantly, healing up so that just a second later, it looked like the ragged opening in the air had never been there. Tavian was left simply staring at the empty space where his sister had been.

The vision faded then, leaving Scarlett looking at Tavian from just inches away. She stepped back reluctantly, knowing that even though her parents had little time for the usual formalities and proprieties, they would not like it if someone like Frances were to write to them suggesting that something untoward was going on.

“Where do you think Rothschild took Cecilia?” Scarlett asked.

Tavian shook his head. “I am not sure. It was another world, clearly. Perhaps the world of the fey. It would be an obvious place for them to go, particularly with Rothschild so determined to be rid of Cecilia.” His expression grew bleak then. “This is the third time in just days that I seem to have lost her. First when she pretended to go missing. Then, when I thought Rothschild had killed her. Now… now it is hard to know even where to begin looking.”

Scarlett reached out to take his hand, ignoring what the servants might think. “We will find her,” she promised. “Just allow me a minute or two to get ready.”

She headed upstairs, trailing Frances in her wake, and retrieved her Egyptian dagger from her bedside table. Lifting her skirt, she strapped the sheath for it to her thigh.

“Miss Scarlett-” Frances began in a reproving tone.

“Frances, the matter I am about to get involved in may well mean people trying to kill me. Would you rather I were unprotected?”

“But your parents-”

“They gave me the dagger. As for how I have to wear it… well, I admit that it would be a little easier if women didn’t have to wear such utterly impractical things, and one day I hope to be able to wear perfectly sensible trousers in the middle of the City…”

“Miss
Scarlett
!”

“…but for now, this is the best I can do. If it makes you feel any better, I am about to pay a visit to an aristocrat in one of the most respectable areas of London. Given the reputation of the aristocrat in question, though, I cannot imagine it is that much of an improvement. Now, would you hand me my coat please?”

Frances did as she was told, thankfully, and Scarlett went back downstairs to meet Tavian.

“Come along then,” Scarlett said, offering the young gypsy man her arm. He took it without hesitation.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Where can we go?” Scarlett countered. “We need to hunt for your sister in another world. That means using a ring like Rothschild’s. There might still be two more extant, but only one of them is in London. We need to talk with its owner.”

Tavian did not appear particularly happy at that. “You mean…”

Scarlett smiled. “I mean that we are going to see Cruces, Tavian. Please do try to get along with him this morning. After all, he holds the key to getting Cecilia back.”

From Kailin Gow

FADE

What if you find out you never existed…

A stylish, action-packed romance roller coaster thriller of a series with enough twists and turns to keep you guessing.

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FADE

Book 1 of the FADE Series™

By Kailin Gow

ONE

M
y name is Celestra Caine. I am seventeen years old, which makes me a senior at Richmond High. I never thought this would happen to me, but it has… I’m one of those people you see every day, go to school with, remember seeing at the supermarket or the mall, and then one day you don’t hear about them any longer. They’re gone, and eventually, you forget them.

Not that I’m easy to forget, as much as I might occasionally wish that I were. I’m tall, about five-seven, and I’m willowy. Built for running, my mom always says. Then there’s my hair. It’s a bright blonde that always attracts attention, from men and women. The women always want to know what I’ve done with it, and some of them won’t believe that it’s simply my natural hair color. The men… like I said, sometimes I wish I didn’t attract quite so much attention. Sometimes I think it might be better if I blended in a little more.