In Absinthia

by Alexandra Christian

  “Maybe I liked having someone need me again.”

  “I tend to believe it was destiny. I mean, I was a mess when we met. Mom had died. I hated my job. I couldn’t pay the bills and they were threatening to take the house. My sister was literally in outer space. Just when I thought my life had spun so far out of control that I would never get it back, there you were.”

  “I know about spinning out of control. After Corinne and Lily, I didn’t want to go on. I burned every bridge I had and all I could see was vengeance.”

  Phoe smiled. “I’ll be your anchor if you’ll be mine.”

  “Deal.” Cage finished washing off the soap and pulled the plug on the tub. “Come on, mouse. You need to rest.”

  Phoe tried to stand up. The world tilted and she had to grip the tub to keep from falling over. “Damn, I hope this dizziness goes away soon.”

  “Alfie said you should be back to normal in a couple of days.” She leaned against Cage as he wrapped a towel around her body. “In the meantime—” with a swift movement, Cage swept Phoe into his arms and carried her into the next room “—we need to get you into bed.”

  Phoe squealed, laughing and hanging on for dear life as they made their way over to the bed. “Don’t drop me.”

  “I never have before.” He grinned, dramatically throwing back the covers and setting her down.

  Phoe pulled the blanket around herself, sinking into comforting squishiness of the mattress. “I’m not sleepy though.”

  “Well I’m afraid that the evening’s planned activities have been derailed by your attack of the vapors,” he teased, turning down the oil lamp down to almost nothing.

  Phoe laughed and nudged him with her foot. “That wasn’t intentional.”

  “Even still. I’ve already told you, woman. No sex for the invalid, so stop asking.” He leaped over her body gracefully and lay down beside her.

  She immediately snuggled into his side. Her body craved his warmth. “Hold me, then.”

  Fifteen

  Cage yawned and lay back against the fluffy chaise. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of this whole relaxing vacation thing before. The last few days had been blessedly peaceful, and he had to admit he’d enjoyed it. It had also rained for the last few days, so there wasn’t much point in going out. He and Phoe were able to lie around each day, napping often and wandering the gardens during the rare breaks in the weather.

  Phoe seemed to be recovering from her concussion, and Lisa Brown didn’t remember a thing. Nor did she have any more episodes, so all had been quiet on the home front. Sigerson had sent Cage a couple of messages on his eSlate, but nothing terribly urgent. The Alice & Ludwig was nothing if not accommodating and provided ample opportunities for entertainment—lavish dinner parties, concerts on the pianoforte in the salon, billiard tournaments, and afternoon bridge circles.

  But as he lay here on the chaise, Phoe’s head in his lap, now the third afternoon in a row of do-nothing bliss, Cage began to realize that he was going to lose his mind if he didn’t do something soon. Not only that, but his vampiric hunger wasn’t going to be quelled by the near-empty flask locked up in their nightstand for much longer. He needed to hunt. He needed to move. He needed out of this place. Quickly.

  “The last few days have been glorious, don’t you think?” Phoe asked. “No worries. No murders.”

  “Indeed,” Cage replied simply. He was trying so hard to be accommodating. He didn’t want Phoe to think he wasn’t having a nice time with her.

  “Three whole days of peace and quiet.” She held up the loose pages of Eleanor’s newest, as yet unpublished, Agnes Shrewsbury novel. “A good book, the love of my life, and nothing to do but enjoy them.”

  “Mmhmm,” he hummed.

  Phoe sat up, staring at him over her shoulder. “You’re going out of your mind, aren’t you?”

  “Kind of, yes,” he admitted with a sigh.

  Phoe giggled and sat up, kissing his cheek then wiping the traces of her lipstick away. “I was wondering how long it would take you.”

  Cage gripped her shoulders gently and turned her to face him. “Phoe, you know I love you. I love spending time with you. We have everything in the world in common. We can talk about anything, and are equally as comfortable talking about nothing. So please don’t take offense, but I have to get out of here, love.” He examined her face for any sign of anger or hurt and found none.

  “I started to suspect at breakfast this morning when you interrogated Miss Abecrombie about the scones.” Earlier, Cage had suspected that the scones were made from synthetic eggs that were grown in the colonies rather than gathered from the free-range chickens they’d begun raising in one of the farming colonies. He’d nearly made the cyborg weep with his gruff questions about medicated feed and nesting boxes.

  “It isn’t that I’m bored, Phoe. Or have some primal urge to violently move my body—I need to hunt.”

  “Okay,” Phoe acquiesced with a chuckle.

  “If I don’t get some fresh blood, I’m going to start picking off mice in the attic. And wouldn’t that be the talk of the pension.”

  “Fine. Let’s go.”

  “Not that I’m going to go through Absinthia draining tourists, but I’m sure that I can find some source of nourishment. Thanks to the vampire covens, all the colonies have an underground blood supplier.”

  Finally, Phoe grabbed Cage’s hand and kissed the back of his knuckles. “Yes. I think we should go.”

  He started to enumerate more reasons for their leaving, and then realized that she was agreeing with him for once. “Wait. You do?”

  She laughed. “Yes, idiot. I know you’re restless. And now that I’m pretty well patched up, I am too.”

  “Now Professor Pankenthorpe said you shouldn’t overdo it. You’re still concussed.”

  “I won’t overdo it. Perhaps we could take a walk through the artist district or replace the clothes we killed the other night. Then some dinner at one of those little cafés?”

  Cage pulled Phoe into a hug then kissed her cheeks over and over until they were both giggling. “That sounds amazing.”

  Phoe disentangled herself from his grasp and went to the wardrobe. She began looking over her clothing choices with a discerning eye. “Tell you what. You go out and grab yourself a snack and by the time you get back, I’ll be stylishly dressed and ready for action.” She glanced over her shoulder with an expression so wicked that Cage felt his cock give a subtle twitch.

  “I’m looking forward to the action part.” He wiggled his brows.

  *****

  As Cage had suspected, it didn’t take long to find a blood source. Even in Absinthia where they prided themselves on being completely free of modern technology, it only took him a half an hour to locate a teahouse that dealt in synthetic opium, whores, and blood. He’d been approached by a couple of babydolls who recognized the glowing in his eyes in the dim light of the teahouse, but that was not a relationship he wanted to forge.

  Cage had been careful not to hook up with babydolls since his accident. For one thing, he found their gratuitous pursuit of immortality to be distasteful. Most babydolls he’d met were desperate to trade their blood for the promise of being turned. Cage didn’t think of himself as a full-fledged vampire, but he understood the responsibility of turning another. It was a relationship that was a bit too paternal for his tastes. Also, there was the expectation of a sexual aspect that he was not interested in for obvious reasons. Cage would only use a babydoll if absolutely necessary.

  Fortunately, he’d been able to buy enough bags to keep himself fed for the rest of their vacation and managed to get back to the pension in less than an hour. By the time he stored the blood bags and made it back downstairs, Phoe was waiting for him in the parlor.

  When she turned, Cage’s jaw dropped. He had not seen this dress in her shopping bags from Babbage’s. The light green brocade dress would have scandalized Queen Victoria. The bodice was a fitted corset that clearly showed a line of
her pale skin where the leather ties crossed over. There were no sleeves, but ivory lace opera gloves covered most of her arm. There was no skirt, merely a bustle that covered her unmentionables in front that left her striped, wool-stocking legs exposed with leather garter belts attaching to the bodice.

  “Wow, Phoe. That’s some dress.”

  She winked and balanced a matching hat on top of her curls. “I thought you might like it.”

  “I definitely do.”

  Miss Abecrombie entered, balancing a basket in her hands. She paused as she passed Phoe and gave her a disapproving once over. “Here’s your picnic basket,” she grumbled before shoving it at Cage.

  Cage looked down at it then at Phoe. “A picnic?”

  “I thought we could have a little picnic. Perhaps a romp through the park.” She smiled coquettishly and brushed past him on the way to the door. Her words had been innocent enough, but that smile definitely was not. Cage tipped his hat and followed her out.

  *****

  Even Cage couldn’t help being impressed by the attention to detail the architects in charge of building the colony had wrought. Absinthia was a conglomeration of the whole of Victorian life, so everything was there on display: the palaces, Piccadilly Circus, Hyde Park, and the Crystal Palace, where he and Phoe had decided to take their picnic.

  “Everything is so beautiful,” Phoe mused, lying back on the grass. “Don’t you think?”

  “It’s like a painting,” Cage said. He wasn’t sure if it was a compliment. “Sterile, but still beautiful, I suppose.”

  “You hate it, don’t you?”

  “Hate is a strong word. It’s possible that I don’t understand it.” He pointed to the animatronic dinosaurs that roamed the green field across the creek. They must have known he was watching, because they looked at Phoe and Cage and made a nonchalant barking sound before going back to munching on the grass. “In the real Crystal Palace Park, those dinosaur sculptures have been there for ages, delighting children.”

  “I know,” Phoe said. “We took Ben there as soon as we got him back to London last summer. Remember how he squealed at seeing them?”

  “Yes. In fact, I can’t imagine him being any more excited at seeing these technological knockoffs.”

  “What do you mean?” Phoe asked, sitting up and pouring herself another glass of Miss Abecrombie’s lemonade.

  “I mean, do we really need the dinosaurs to move?”

  “I don’t know.” Phoe shrugged. “I think it’s kind of nice, though. Especially for children who had never seen the real thing.”

  “That’s exactly my point,” Cage continued. “People are seeing all this instead of the real thing. It’s as if we’ve turned the whole world into a fantasy land.”

  “Is that such a bad thing? And don’t forget, these dinosaurs won’t rip your arms off.”

  Before he could reply, Phoe was pulling him in for a kiss. Her lips tasted of the tart lemonade and sugary teacakes they’d had with their picnic, making her the most delectable of desserts. As with all their kisses, it was never merely a peck but a long and lingering embrace. The taste of her filled him up with an intoxication that satisfied him like nothing else. Soon he was pushing her down in the grass and rolling on top of her.

  “Careful, you animal,” Phoe giggled, feigning distress. “You’re going to rip my dress.”

  “That is exactly what I had in mind, dear lady.”

  Phoe thrashed, both of them laughing as she struggled to break free. “Cage, you’re not playing fair.”

  “Do I ever?”

  She grinned and drew her fingertips along his spine and shoulders as he kissed the slope of her throat gently. One leg curled around his, leaving her open. Cage pressed his pelvis against hers and moved slightly so she could feel how much he wanted her. Phoe chewed on her lower lip, almost ready to surrender. Of course, she wouldn’t let him win quite yet. With a sneaky move she’d learned from him, she used the leg curled around his for leverage and rolled him over, straddling his hips and pinning him to the ground. “Neither do I.”

  “Look at you fighting dirty.” He grinned. “I taught you everything you know, naughty mouse.”

  “You did such a good job,” she replied. “So now you’ll have to beg for mercy.”

  “Never,” he growled playfully, trying to sit up. He caught the lace on her bodice in his teeth and tugged, but Phoe swatted him away.

  She leaned over, licking his lips and kissing him over and over until he could barely breathe. “Then tell me you love me.”

  “I tell you I love you all the time, silly.”

  “No, you don’t. Unless we’re in the throes of passion, you never tell me you love me. It always comes out all snarky. So come on…tell me you love me.”

  Cage reached back and caught the mess of curls gathered at the base of her skull, pulling it roughly until she turned, loosening her grip. Before she could stop him, they were rolling over and over in the grass until finally Cage landed on top of her. This time he sat up and pinned both her arms back with his hands and kept his knees planted firmly on her thighs to keep her splayed and helpless beneath him. “Oww…Cage. That hurts.”

  With a raised eyebrow, he cast his smoldering gaze down on her until she was practically shrinking under it. “You can’t fool me, mouse. We both know you like a kiss of pain.”

  Phoe squirmed, albeit weakly now, beneath him. “Someone’s going to see us here, cavorting in the grass like lunatics.”

  “Who cares?” he murmured. He feathered kisses over her lips and cheeks. His body responded, and he felt his cock lengthen, almost reaching out for the warmth of her sex. “And Phoe, I do love you.” He kissed her again, this time more gently but stealing her breath all the same.

  “My goodness. Some people have no couth whatsoever.”

  Cage looked up to see a couple of women pointing and staring at them as they passed by. When he and Phoe had started their picnic, they’d had the entire park to themselves. Apparently, others had found their secret garden. Cage sat up and straightened his tie, offering a sly nod to the ladies. Evidently, they realized they’d been found out and both blushed bright red as they hurried on down the path.

  “Nosy Nellies,” Cage grumbled.

  “They’re jealous,” Phoe said. She sat up and brushed her hair away from her face. “Speaking of Nellies. Eleanor said something the other night after the séance that’s still eating at me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She said that Mr. Sockersby didn’t come down that day until nearly noon. And that when he did, he looked a bit worse for wear.”

  “Yeah, so. He was hung over.”

  “Yes, but then right after the séance, as Lisa started to lose it, he showed back up. Hanging back in the shadows like he didn’t want anyone to know he was there.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want anyone to see the vicar attending a séance.”

  “I don’t know, Cage. I have a strange feeling about him. He’s the one person who has been conveniently absent every time there’s been an incident.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The night of the murder in the alley. The night after the opera. The séance. Think about it. Who is always missing?”

  “No idea.”

  “The vicar. Mr. Sockersby. He goes out every single night after dinner. He told Tuggingham before that he was out doing mission work. But he’s employed by the colony, right? He’s not a real vicar. Why would he be doing mission work?”

  Cage started to answer but paused. “Wait, Phoe. Aren’t you the one that said we shouldn’t be involved in all this? We’re on vacation and all that jazz?”

  “Well, yes. I suppose that was me, but I can’t help thinking that there’s something fishy going on with Mr. Sockersby. His behavior seems pretty odd.”

  Cage laughed. “You’ve been reading too many Agnes Shrewsbury novels this week. You assume it’s the vicar because he’s the least likely candidate. Being a man of the cloth and al
l.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Phoe snarked, turning up her nose in a monumental pout. “And I didn’t say I suspected him of being the killer, but that maybe he knows more than he’s telling.”

  “Phoe, I—”

  Before he could finish the thought, a scream from somewhere in the park floated on the breeze. “Did you hear that?”

  Cage and Phoe leapt to their feet and followed the screams toward the hedge labyrinth on the other side of the creek. They raced over the bridge and into the garden beyond. A large maze made of ivy loomed ahead of them. The screams were louder now. Cage reached out and grabbed Phoe by the wrist, holding her back.

  “Shush,” he hissed. Cage closed his eyes and listened for another scream. Or movement. He could smell the blood, somewhere among the hedges. Without warning, he took off down the path, following more shrieks. He could only pray that they weren’t about to discover another grisly crime scene. The maze twisted and turned and Cage considered shifting so that he might leap over the walls and find the source of the screaming faster. He thought better of it though. He didn’t want to risk shifting in broad daylight unless absolutely necessary.

  “Cage. Over here.” He zeroed in on Phoe’s shouts and dodged around another corner. His heart sank as he burst into the clearing. Another woman’s body lay bleeding on the ground surrounded by Phoe and the two women who had been so scandalized by their public display of affection.

  “It’s all right.” Phoe soothed the one woman as she hid her face in Phoe’s shoulder.

  “Is anyone hurt?” Cage asked, breathing heavily.

  “Only this poor dear,” the other woman answered, pointing.

  Cage knelt by the bleeding body. She was a young girl, but obviously not an unfortunate. Nor did she appear to have any visible mech. She hadn’t been ripped to shreds like the others. Cage moved her head slightly and noticed that the source of the blood pooling on the ground was from a small wound at the girl’s throat. “This isn’t a Ripper victim,” Cage noted.

  Phoe looked to the two women. “Did you see anything?”