Clockwork Looking Glass (Heart of Bronze Book 1)

by Michael Rigg

Clayton Landry had thoughts of his own.

  ~~~~~~~

  "Daddy, look!"

  Wilco approached the gilded desk where Pandora was sifting through papers in the center drawer. He had been investigating a large brown stain in the carpet with bits of jagged bone and teeth. "What is it?" He kept glancing to the door.

  "It looks like orders for a fleet mobilization—a naval blockade."

  Wilco shrugged. "Must be old. There hasn't been a blockade since—"

  "It's dated today."

  "Let me see that." Wilco grabbed the papers and read while Pandora continued looking around the office. "Pandy, this mark."

  "I know."

  His beard rustled and his eyes grew wide. "I saw this when I was … dead. Do you know what this means?"

  She knew all too well. The symbol that marked the location of Atlantis—three circles with a line between them—It was also the mark on Alice's back. And it also stood for something else, something stronger than any witch or ghoul could ever imagine.

  She nodded toward the large stain, changing the subject and hiding her worried expression from her father. "I see how Mr. Wolfe retired."

  Wilco responded absently as he continued studying the map and accompanying orders. "Our ghoul, I'd imagine."

  The double doors rattled in their frame as the air pressure changed in the foyer. Both Pandora and her father looked to the doors. Wilco drew his arc pistol and took aim. Pandora stood tall and prepared to cross her fingers.

  The loud striding footfalls were too purposeful, too direct. Someone knew they were here. Pandora was sure the doors would swing open and they'd come face to face with Teivel Hearse.

  "Daddy."

  "I know."

  "Daddy."

  "I know, Pandy."

  "If it's him, let me handle it."

  "Like blazes." Wilco cocked the pistol.

  The doors swung open and in stepped Bradford Thorne. "What the hell is going on in here? Who the hell are you?"

  Pandora crossed her fingers. "I'm your new girl, Mr. Thorne. That there is Willy... from maintenance."

  'Willy' quickly lowered his pistol and tucked it back inside his jacket.

  Thorne blinked once, then twice more. His smile was slow and greasy as his eyes took in Pandora's blouse. "What is your name, my raven haired beauty?"

  "Doroth—"

  "No!" Wilco coughed. Thorne and Pandora looked at him. She nodded in understanding with a knowing smirk.

  "My name's Doris. Doris Gold."

  Thorne's eyes remained on the dwarf.

  Pandora followed Thorne's gaze and said in a stern voice, "That will be all, little man. Be gone!"

  Wilco scowled, but turned and stuffed the blockade papers into his flight jacket before turning to leave.

  "Wait... Just a moment," Thorne hissed as he stepped in front of the door to block it.

  Pandora took a step and raised her hand. Her other hand remained hidden behind her. "Oh. It's ok, Mr. Thorne, sir. He was just leaving."

  Thorne nodded. "He was just leaving."

  Wilco grumbled as he passed Thorne on his way out. "I was just leaving."

  A moment after her father left, and Pandora sensed he was a safe distance away, she turned on a false smile and said, "Well, is there anything I can do for you before I retire, Mr. Thorne?"

  "Call be Bradford."

  "Bradford." The look in his beady black eyes made Pandora's skin crawl. She was tempted to use magics to start a fire in the room, but recognized something in Bradford Thorne that she could use—the way he apparently used his secretaries.

  The president of the new Thorne & Hearse Incorporated licked his lips and grinned salaciously as he slowly approached. "I have a mad posh to take a letter, Miss Gold. It has been a delightful day, fraught with frustrations but... all nice in the end."

  Pandora glanced around as if for an exit rather than a steno pad. "A letter, Mr. Thorne?"

  He stepped closer.

  She moved her fingers closer to an X position behind her back.

  Thorne moved around the table and glided toward her. "Miss Gold, how long have you been in my service?"

  "Just this evening, sir. Like I said, I'm the new girl. Frustrations, you say? Um, like what?"

  Thorne spoke as he stepped inches from her face, Pandora fought against wincing. The pastrami hit her like a cloud of acid. "You have quite the mouth, lovely lady. I like my girls to have... sass."

  "Oh, my father always said I was full of sass... or was that something else?"

  He leaned close, his rancid breath brushing her lips and nose. "About that letter." He smiled showing yellow-brown teeth. "I'm thinking we'll begin with the letter 'L'."

  “The letter 'L', sir?”

  He nodded. “The one you can form by getting on your knees.”

  That was enough.

  Pandora thrust her crossed fingers between them and said, "No! Why don't you kneel, you slimy pervert!"

  Bradford Thorne jolted with the spell and did as he was told, dropping to his knees before Pandora. He looked up at her, his beady eyes stunned but held by her magics.

  "Tell me about the blockade you got goin' on in the Atlantic. And tell me what the ghoul's got to do with it."

  Thorne's jaw worked soundlessly for only a few syllables before he said, "I-It's to protect the Atlantis site, to keep the Confederates and Landrys away. We're—"

  "Landrys?"

  "They defaulted on the Atlantis contracts. Now it's mine."

  "Really?" Pandora smiled slyly. It was all starting to come together. The mark that bound Atlantis and Alice somehow formed a combination to attract anyone bloodthirsty for power. She had to get this to Bryce, and confront him about her mark... "Do you have the paperwork to this Atlantis thing?"

  Thorne nodded up at her.

  "Well then," she smiled. "I'll be taking them."

  The doors opened silently.

  Teivel Hearse stepped in, his eyes practically glowing like coals. "And I'll be taking that pretty little hand."

  ~~~~~~~

  After dinner, Bryce grudgingly went with his father to discuss matters, particularly matters concerning Alice and the distraction she was causing the entire family.

  Clayton and Lydia excused themselves separately before heading in different directions, Clayton toward the porch to smoke a cigar and Lady McFerran to the powder room. Savannah and mother helped the servants.

  Adeline took Alice by the hand as the servants came to clean up the dinner dishes. She led her to the back patio, a playful smile lighting up her face.

  Seven Orchards at night was even more beautiful than during the day. Electric lanterns and countless torches carrying the scent of Citronella formed a network of yellow stars throughout the garden, lining the path and illuminating the porch. Cricket song filled the air as a light summer breeze played through Adeline's hair. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear as she brought Alice to the edge of the porch and glanced at the house. "I have a secret," she beamed.

  "Secret?"

  Adeline nodded, biting her lower lip before pushing back a strand of Alice's long red hair behind her ear and giggling.

  "What's the secret?"

  Adeline wiggled her eyebrows and glanced around. She could hear the clanking of pots and dishes through the open kitchen windows, see the servants and mother moving back and forth. "Not here. Let's go to the gardens. Secrets are best told in secret places."

  Alice's nose wrinkled as she glanced toward the gardens, a timid glaze overcoming her eyes, but she nodded slightly.

  Taking her by the hand, Adeline led the way toward the large willow by the greenhouse. As they neared the glass enclosure, which glowed green from the mossy windows illuminated from within, Adeline had to tug harder on Alice's arm. "Come on, you'll love this!"

  "I think this is far enough, Addy." Adeline sighed, her giddiness almost uncontainable as she stopped and turned to face Alice. She bounced on her heels and wrinkled her nose mischievously. "Ooh, okay."
She sucked air through her teeth as she drew a long breath.

  “Alice in Wanderland!”

  Adeline's head dropped as Savannah's voice carried over the gardens. "Oh, that little twerp is gonna ruin everything!" She grabbed Alice by the shoulders. "Wait here. Don't move."

  "But—"

  Adeline was already turning back toward the house. "I'll be right back! I'm just gonna chase the little scamp back to the house."

  "But I—"

  "Wait here, Alice! I swear, you'll love this!"

  Clayton Landry watched his sister run by, her shoes clipping on the cobblestone path, before he stepped out onto the path and strode purposefully toward the greenhouse. His eyes were dark and heavy, his mustache drawn down at the corners as he scowled.

  When he saw Alice standing near the willow, wringing her hands and glancing between the greenhouse and the main house, he smiled and ducked out of sight. He could almost feel her nervousness and knew what was going through her mind.

  Everything that Colonel Clayton Landry had worked for his entire life hinged on certain secrets being kept. He was content and happiest when the dark skeletons were held deep within the Landry closets. And now, on the eve of war, a war that could very well wipe out the Imperial North forever if what Lord Landry said was true, this... snipe... threatens to bring it all down like a house of cards. His affair with Lydia McFerran won him favor in future corporate holdings. She had already wired him thousands of dollars to help fund his own private air transportation company. Daddy definitely wouldn't like the idea of his first born splintering off from the family name to start his own corporation, or that—in Clayton's mind—Landry & McFerran, Inc. had a very different meaning. His seduction of the Lady McFerran had been a long time in the making, and now that the secret had been discovered by some Property....

  He looked around near his feet, kicking at the overgrowth of ferns near the path where he stood until he found what he wanted. He hefted the softball-sized stone and tested its weight before taking the path to his left, a wide arc that would bring him behind Alice. As he thought about cracking open her skull, his blood boiled in his veins. No one would miss her, and he knew the amnesia was only a ploy. Alice was as she appeared, a New York Property, a prostitute with designs on the Landry coffers. Clayton always thought his brother was dim, always hated him for garnering more favor with Daddy—why does he always get to go to the Hall of Thinking Machines?—but falling for the batting eyelashes of an Irisher whore.... Fool.

  ~~~~~~~

  Adeline shooed Savannah into the house and turned to run back to the garden when her mother called out to her.

  "Yes, Mother?"

  "Come here, dear, I need you in the kitchen."

  Adeline grunted as she glanced out to the starlit garden, then back to the house, the garden—

  "Adeline!"

  Sighing, she hurried into the house. "Coming, Mother!"

  ~~~~~~~

  Clayton moved slowly, cocking back his arm, anticipating the blow as he inched toward Alice.

  She hadn't heard him, hadn't sensed him, hadn't felt the warm air move around him. She toyed with her hair, loosening it from its bun and letting it fall over her shoulders as she glanced repeatedly between the greenhouse and the main house. As he stepped even closer, he began to realize what she was up to, why she and Adel sneaked off here to the greenhouse. She was going to tell Adel about what she spied. Adel, the family telegraph. His timing was perfect.

  He paused within striking distance as Alice reached up to fix her hair into a loose ponytail. Then, as soon as she lowered her arms, He swung the rock at her head.

  Alice's head snapped to the side and she stumbled forward. She fell to her knees and raised her hand to her head before staggering back up, knocking over a garden bench before struggling to her feet and turning.

  Clayton closed the gap and raised the stone for a finishing blow. Alice's wide eyes fell on him and he knew she was going to scream. He swung hard to silence her, but was caught off guard. Because, instead of screaming, the redhead set her jaw and ducked the blow. She charged into him head first and gut-punched him.

  Clayton dropped the stone as he blew out the contents of his lungs with a loud "Oof!"

  Alice righted herself, her hands cocked in some martial arts attack posture. Clayton narrowed his eyes at her and saw that she was struggling to remain conscious, She kept blinking and wincing as she tried to focus on him in the dimly lit garden.

  He prepared himself for another attack as she spun, intending to throw her heel into his soft belly. But her movements were too slow. She couldn't hold her momentum, didn't have the strength to charge her muscles and the kick—stopped by the long skirt Adeline dressed her in—only sent her spinning into his arms.

  Clayton reared back and swung as she tumbled forward, catching her on the jaw and sending her sprawling to the cobblestones.

  "Bitch," he swore under his breath.

  The pitched battle only lasted a few seconds, but Clayton stood over Alice's unconscious form breathing heavily as though he'd just gone three rounds with a heavyweight. He looked around for the stone, but didn't see it. He'd have to move quickly to dispose of her.

  Holding off on the killing blow until he got her out of the open, Clayton crouched and rolled Alice onto her back. He rested a hand on her chest and felt the rise and fall, felt the thudding heart beneath, then he cupped one of her breasts and gave it a hard squeeze to make sure she was fully unconscious. He stood and took her by the ankles.

  Glancing over his shoulder to set his path toward the greenhouse, he dragged the unconscious Property backwards until he found the door. Alice continued breathing but made no sound as her dress rode up underneath her, exposing her long legs, and smudged stockings where she skinned her knees on the fall.

  Once inside, Clayton dropped her legs and rushed to the greenhouse door. He looked outside, holding his breath for a moment to make sure no one approached, then he turned back to his victim. "How dare you set prey upon this family, upon me!" he growled at her. He glanced around for a weapon to finish her off, letting his eyes skip over garden shears, clippers, pikes, and iron trowels. His anger and blood lust were reaching an apex, but he still held his senses enough to know spattered blood would lead to questions. He had to find something blunt. Then he would dump her in the forest behind the gardens and dispose of her corpse later.

  Clayton grew breathless, anxious. He knew time was against him. He repeatedly glanced down to Alice's form, his eyes lingering on the soft line of her neck, then down to the muscular curves of her exposed legs and Adel's stockings that glowed in the green-lit dim of the glass house. He found himself wondering if she had lured Bryce into bed, if that's how she got here, if that's how she poisoned his mind against him.

  Clayton chewed his lower lip, momentarily forgetting the blunt weapon he sought and crouched to lift Alice off the dirty floor. He turned her around and dumped her body, face first, over the low narrow potting bench, draping her like a giant rag doll.

  "I'll show you what Property is good for," he growled through gritted teeth. Pulling off his jacket and vest, he stepped up behind her, pressing himself against her rump to hold her steady, he used his legs to spread hers, then he unhooked his suspenders.

  Alice started to wake. She groaned, a low, weak sound.

  Clayton dug his clawed fingers into the back of her dress and ripped it open, tearing it down the middle. Then he hooked his fingers on the back of the bunched skirt and started to wrestle it up and over her hips. Clayton hooked his fingers around the skirt of the dress and tore it across her waist. Then he tugged it down over her backside, pulling her underthings with it.

  Then the heat in his head, his heart and hands, his anger and ferocity all drained, replaced by the ice of terror. There on Alice's skin, above the gentle swell of her rear on the left side....

  The mark of the Holy Trinity.

  The clang echoed in the greenhouse as the shovel whacked against the back of Cl
ayton's head. His body tumbled to the side.

  Alice groaned louder and tried to push herself up and off the potting bench. Small but strong hands gripped her arms and lifted her to her feet, then wrestled her clothes into place. "Easy now. Easy. You're all right." Alice turned, blinking, dazed. She gasped when she saw Clayton splayed out on the stone floor of the greenhouse and backed away. She bumped into someone who took her by the arms and repeated. "You're all right. I got him before he could do anything."

  She turned to come face to face with Lydia McFerran. Her jaw fell open, but the Lady quickly silenced her with a gesture. "Listen to me," Lydia pleaded, her eyes wide and filled with understanding and compassion Alice didn't think was possible coming from someone who, until now, had been so calculatingly cold and selfish. Alice's eyes widened but remained unfocused as she reached around herself, attempting to wrestle Adeline's torn dress back into place. Her head felt like hot mush. Lydia shook her gently.

  "Alice... Alice, listen to me."

  Alice blinked again, her vision clearing more as she squirmed and pulled free of Lydia's grasp. "No... You....Him...."

  "Alice," Lydia repeated, more forcefully. Then she bent over and lifted her dress to expose something strapped to her right calf. The Derringer was small and glinted silver-white in the gloom of the greenhouse as Lydia pulled it from its tiny holster and pointed it at her.

  Alice raised her hands and backed away, almost tripping over Clayton as she moved toward the door.

  Then Lydia pointed the gun down to Clayton's face. "Go."

  Alice stopped and lowered her hands. She looked at him questioningly.

  Lydia repeated. "Go!"

  "What are you—?"

  Lydia raised her chin defiantly. "I saved you from a fate worse than death, then death itself, now you'll do as I say. Go. Go, and get as far away from this house as you can."

  "B-But Bryce—"

  Lydia cocked the tiny pistol and stepped up to Clayton's unconscious form. She crouched over him and pushed the tiny twin barrels of the Derringer between his teeth. "I shant repeat myself, young Alice, and know that I am pinning this on you."

  So much for compassionate understanding. Alice's eyes widened as she backed against the greenhouse door. "On me? But he—"