“And necessary,” I snapped. I marched by him and opened the door, taking a much-needed breath of slightly less-congested air.
The ball was bulging at the seams when we reentered. “Come along,” I said, pushing Mr. Kent forward. “If we find that guard we can just ask her who the head is.”
We looked out over the crowd and I tried to describe her to Mr. Kent, but neither of us saw her. My mind stuttered and fogged like an overworked engine, more time slipping through our fingers.
“Let’s find those lords on Miss Harding’s list—we can play it off as some kind of joke,” Mr. Kent said finally.
I agreed, no longer caring if London society thought both Mr. Kent and me very odd. “Mr. Braddock. Please stay here and keep your eye out for anything that seems strange.” He nodded and I caught those eyes for a long moment. I tried not to let the concern and exasperation I found there warm me too much.
Mr. Kent pulled me into the crush and began to insert himself into conversations.
“Excuse me, lovely to see you again, Lord Overstone—are you perhaps the head of the Society of Aberrations? No? Ah, no, a very new club—I thought for sure that you would know of it.…
“Lord Somers—yes, my father is very happy. No, no—look, Somers, a question for you—are you perhaps the mysterious head of the Society of Aberrations? No—I …
“Lord Warrington! My, we never see you at these things—is that because you’re too busy being the head of the Society of Aberrations? Never mind.”
As he grew increasingly blunt I grew increasingly worried. That was all the men we had suspected. I was getting desperate, ready to accuse a large man next to me, who was angry, drunk, or naturally ill-tempered, when a loud crash sounded.
Mr. Kent hissed in a quick breath as I spun around, along with most of the company.
A servant had dropped a tray of drinks.
“Oh no,” I said, immediately recognizing the embarrassed soul.
Laura Kent was here. Dressed as a servant. And dropping glasses.
Mr. Kent was already striding through the crowd. I followed as another servant began to help her pick up the shards of glass, and the party gave them wide berth, returning to their drinks and conversation.
“Kit! You are in the worst trouble,” Mr. Kent was scolding in a whisper as he pulled her to her feet. Up close I could see that Laura had attempted some kind of disguise using kohl and rouge. It was not exactly effective, more comical.
“Nicky! Emily and I snuck out!” she babbled excitedly. I groaned and looked around, knowing that Emily wouldn’t be far behind. Indeed, she was a few feet away and also dressed as a servant, subtly using her skills to push pieces of glass under a rug.
“Both of you, follow me,” I announced, and turned on my heel.
Blast it. First Mae, then Sebastian, now these girls! Couldn’t anyone quietly sit at home for one night? We didn’t even know who the head of the Society was and they were running around willy-nilly, getting themselves caught up in things they did not fully understand.
I marched them into two chairs next to Miss Grey.
“Miss Grey, don’t let them get up.” Emily and Laura huffed into their chairs and made identical sulky expressions.
“We can help!” Laura said mournfully. “We don’t want you to be forced to work for the Society.”
“Hush,” Mr. Kent said, his face blotchy with fear and anger. “How dare you do something so stupid?”
Laura shut her mouth as though he had slapped it shut. It was the harshest I had ever heard him speak to her, and I suspected the harshest she had heard as well.
“You will sit here. If Miss Grey sees either of you move—or any objects moving that should not be moving, Miss Kane—she will come get us,” Mr. Kent said, then rounded on me. “If we don’t find the head now, he will find us.”
With that, he was stalking across the floor and I rushed to follow. We stood at the edge of the sea of people and I wondered how long it would take to question all of them.
“Damn, damn, damn.” Mr. Kent was swearing softly, as rattled as I had ever seen him with Laura’s appearance.
“Mr. Kent—”
“It’s just been a very long evening, Miss Wyndham,” he said, anticipating my inquiry into his state of mind.
My mother was staring daggers at me as I walked along on the wrong man’s arm. Lord Atherton was standing just behind his mother, per usual, but he had a more desperate, nervous quality than before.
I had had enough of all this. “One moment, Mr. Kent. Follow my lead.”
I marched over to my mother and the Athertons. “Mother! I have the most wonderful announcement to make. Do you think you could invite the entire party here for it? Every single guest?” I nodded significantly at Lord Atherton.
Mother looked rapidly between us. Lord Atherton appeared rather ill but I smiled widely. “You, ah … why yes, yes of course.” Her face aglow, she started off, but returned to press my hands hard.
“You won’t regret this, darling,” she whispered. Her eyes were bright and the color was high on her cheeks. She looked so confident, so sure of me, and I swallowed down guilt. Once this was over, I would be returning a daughter to her. Surely she would forgive me then.
Mother rushed from the room. Lord Atherton looked like he was trying to summon the courage to say something, but a glare from Mr. Kent kept him silent.
Lady Atherton was scrutinizing me but I refused to meet her eyes and looked out upon the crowd instead. The ballroom began to fill, the hum droning louder like a swarm of insects. The dancing whirred by in a frenzy that threatened to swallow us. The music felt sharper, more discordant with every wail of the violin, every moan of the cello. The walls seemed to close in with every curious guest that pressed themselves into the room, every face rendered sinister by the garish gaslight. My blood curdled. The head could be anyone. It could be everyone.
“Are you ready?” I said to Mr. Kent under my breath.
“Since birth,” he returned.
“All right, darling, go ahead!” My mother was behind me, slightly out of breath. She handed me a small bell and I smiled. The music came to a stop. The guests were already looking around expectantly, confused, and it took only the briefest tinkle of the bell to make them all look my way.
“If you would, please,” I said as everyone turned to me. “My friend Mr. Kent here has a question for all of you.”
“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. He hesitated, and I wondered if he, too, was thinking that this was the moment we would undoubtedly be turning our backs upon good society forever. If we even survived the night. “We would like to know, who here is the head of the Society of Aberrations?”
The question was met with dead silence.
Except for a furious, throaty voice.
“I am,” said Lady Atherton.
Chapter 22
DUMBFOUNDED, I STARED.
Lady Atherton. She was supposed to be a mere friend to the Society! Someone earning her position! Now she was signaling to that blasted bodyguard across the crowd and hurrying through to disappear into the dining room. And we were letting her escape as Mr. Kent and I stood quite frozen in shock.
“A-another dance, shall we?” my mother announced, gesturing to the musicians. She turned to me and hissed quietly. “Evelyn, what is going on—”
“I must speak to Lady Atherton,” I said, shaking off her grip.
“I will get Miss Kane,” Mr. Kent said, darting off through the crowd.
I ignored Lord Atherton, who was beginning to make a protesting noise as I left his bewildered presence.
Across the room, Mr. Kent was admonishing Laura to stay with Miss Grey as he directed Emily to us.
I was gaining on Lady Atherton when Sebastian appeared by my side.
“Please, Sebastian, stay—”
“Not on your life,” he growled, picking up his pace.
By the time we converged with Emily, we were into the empty dining room. Lady Ather
ton had nearly made it across that room when Miss Chen and Oliver dropped through the floor in front of her, blocking her escape. She spun around and hurried for the third exit. “Emily, can you stop her?” I whispered.
She nodded enthusiastically and gestured to the woman.
Lady Atherton was lifted off the ground, floating high up in the air, flailing to no avail. She let out a small “Eek!” and tried to keep her skirts down as she was held suspended in the air. We hurried past the dinner and dessert tables and I prayed that Mr. Hale would show himself. Was he not watching? The room was empty—it was the perfect place to take her away.
Instead, the sounds that came were a series of smooth snaps and rattling. All around the room, paintings and hangings crashed to the floor as the metal chains intended to hold them up broke off and flew toward us.
I turned to Emily, who looked distressed, and Lady Atherton fell slightly as Emily’s focus turned to the door we came in.
“Emily, are you doing thi—”
A chain reached out and wrapped around my neck, dragging me across the room. A second later, another one struck my legs, pinning me hard to the wall. This wasn’t Emily’s doing.
As I gasped for air, restrained by two chains, I saw two figures emerge: the drab bodyguard, who waved her hand and ensnared Emily, Sebastian, and Miss Chen in more chains, slamming them against the floor—and a man who went over to help Lady Atherton back to her feet.
Another bodyguard. He was spectacularly mustachioed and blond—cheerful-looking even, like an overgrown boy.
“Thank you, Mr. Drake,” Lady Atherton said, sounding just as commanding and unconcerned as she always had during our morning calls. How had I missed it? “Miss Miller, please hold them here; I will be leaving at once.”
I struggled against my restraints, ignoring the pain of the metal digging into my skin. A series of sharp clangs rent the air, over and over, and my chains actually fell apart. I slid back down to the floor wondering briefly if I had developed some sort of strange new neck power … until I saw Miss Chen crouched in the center of the room, focusing on Emily and Sebastian’s restraints, shattering them into hundreds of small pieces.
But Miss Chen needed time to focus, time our enemies were using. With more control than Emily, Miss Miller had somehow managed to collect all the silverware in the room and swirl it into a ridiculous sort of tornado that separated us from them. Mr. Drake was helping Lady Atherton limp toward the next room. I seized a small painting off the floor and a fire poker beside me and ran, charging at them.
As I stumbled across the room with my terrible excuses for a sword and shield, utensils clattered and thunked against my painting, ripping at the canvas, delivering small cuts to my arms and legs.
From the corner of my eye I saw Miss Chen staring hard at a chandelier above Miss Miller. But even as it fell, with a flick of her hand, Miss Miller flung it back toward my friends. Miss Chen reacted quickly, shattering it so it fell to pieces before it could hit anyone. Emily was using her powers to pull up a thick rug as a barrier against all the flying debris. I took advantage of the distraction and slipped by, hoping they would be fine on their own for a moment.
The next room was a billiards room, the air filled with the stench of whiskey and cigar smoke. I caught up to Lady Atherton and Mr. Drake, dropping my ripped shield and gripping the fire poker with two hands. I stepped quietly and swung as hard as I was able to at Mr. Drake’s head, feeling a fleeting bit of pity for the nice-looking man, but when I made contact, something struck my own head, sending me to the floor, my ears ringing.
Spots floated in front of my eyes and I felt blood run down my cheek for a moment before the cut on my head closed up and the ache faded away. As I dizzily stood up and regained my balance, I found Lady Atherton hurrying away on her own, while her guard stood between us. He seemed completely unhurt. He didn’t even look irritated.
So I attacked again. I swung at Mr. Drake as he held out his arm to block the blow. Again, a searing pain hit me, this time in my right arm instead of his. He seized me by the throat as I dropped the poker. I thrashed around but he was a large man and he seemed entirely unaffected by my struggles.
Is this how I die?
But no. Oliver, climbing up through the floor, spotted the poker and grabbed for it. He gave a vicious swing at the guard’s back and yelped, collapsing in pain, as if he’d been struck himself.
Mr. Drake, still squeezing my throat tightly, looked past me and gave a wet little chuckle. I kicked at him, feeling more pain in my own legs. As Oliver tried to rise to his feet again, Miss Miller walked into my line of sight, the dining-room door shutting and locking behind her. The fire poker in Oliver’s hand lifted him up and then wrenched itself away. It spun around and tore into his shoulder with astonishing speed, propelling him like a rocket up at the wall. He managed to use his power before he hit it, but the momentum still sent him flying through the wall, way into another room.
A harsh cry was all that Mr. Drake’s grip would allow, and I redoubled my efforts to get free. No, not Oliver—I needed to get to him. Now.
Metal rods floated and bent eerily in front of Miss Miller. “I’ll restrain her,” she said placidly. I struggled to open my fan, ready to fight the woman, when a voice sounded from behind me.
“You’ll let her go,” Mr. Kent said. He entered the room from the far door, holding Lady Atherton next to him with his pistol aimed at her head.
Mr. Drake’s hold on my throat loosened. The dining room door shattered and Miss Chen, Emily, and Sebastian filed in behind me. Sebastian made to move closer, but I held out my hand, telling everyone to stop for a moment.
“You don’t have to do everything she demands,” I said, turning to the guards. My voice came out as a rasp, as though I were struggling with a cold. “They, the Society—she coerces all of us this way, pits us against one another. But if we all stop, she won’t be able to fulfill their threats.” I looked for a bit of reason from the two guards.
“She doesn’t coerce us,” Mr. Drake drawled. “She pays well.”
“And if you followed their orders, you would be much safer,” Miss Miller added. “You wouldn’t be in this situation. Traitors.”
Mr. Kent cleared his throat. “Excuse me, we seem to be forgetting a very important detail: You are the ones in a situation. I have a gun pointed at your head’s … head.”
Miss Miller glared and the barrel of Mr. Kent’s gun twisted upward and back into itself, tying into a neat knot.
“Oh, for God’s sake, that was a gift,” Mr. Kent said, throwing it at them. “Fine, what are your blasted powers, the two of you?”
“My injuries get reflected back on my attacker,” Mr. Drake said.
“I control metal,” Miss Miller said.
“Splendid, and your biggest weaknesses are?”
“Being trapped,” Mr. Drake replied.
“A room without metal,” Miss Miller answered with a growl.
I shut my fan, not wanting her to see the metal blade. We looked about the billiards room. It was … quite the opposite of her weakness. It was practically a museum for medieval armor. Armor that could be used as painful weapons.
“Blast—” Mr. Kent began, but all at once the armor came to life, flying at us before we could react. A helmet struck Mr. Kent, allowing Lady Atherton to escape. A heavy chest plate knocked me over.
When I climbed back up to my feet, I saw Sebastian had managed to seize Mr. Drake with a wrestling sort of hold, but he winced in pain as Mr. Drake kicked him and slammed him into a wall, daring Sebastian to hurt him further. Emily was barely managing to keep Miss Miller’s flying armor and weapon attacks at bay, while Miss Chen, peering at the cracking ceiling, was running out of wall hangings and light fixtures to drop onto Miss Miller, who managed to nimbly dodge them all.
Oliver had yet to return and I was worried I would find him dead. I dodged the flying armor as best as I could, shielding myself with a wingback chair, trying to formulate some plan. Thes
e two guards were too strong. They were too in control. They must have had years’ more practice than all of us combined. They—
I heard a tear. It had come from Mr. Drake. His trousers dropped down in shreds. And not a second later, another rip sounded from Miss Miller as her dress fell apart and she shrieked. Miss Chen was looking more amused than I’d ever seen her.
“Never thought that would come in so handy.”
These two guards were … not as intimidating anymore.
Snatching a wooden pool cue from the billiards table, I rushed at Miss Miller. Even distracted with her wardrobe problems, she managed to see me and sent a dagger into my shoulder and another into my stomach. I stumbled, trying not to cry out as I attempted to remove them, to allow my wounds to heal, but another struck my leg, sending me to my knees. I managed to pull that out and rise back up, but the second I took a step forward, another dagger was flying straight at my heart.
It passed through me like nothing. Oliver, sweating and pale, had slipped through the wall next to me and thrown himself on my shoulder, his touch saving me. I clung to the boy, relieved to see that he had managed to get the fire poker loose.
Miss Miller yelped in pain as a wound emerged on her shoulder. I turned around to see that her dagger had flown straight into Mr. Drake, still restrained by Sebastian, causing the wound to be reflected back on her.
“Keep hold of me, Oliver,” I said, and he clung to my back as I spun around, closing the distance between Miss Miller and myself. I swung the stick at her and it struck her face with a satisfying crack. Oliver was jostled but managed to keep hold. I was about to swing again when he yanked me back, hard.
Above Miss Miller, the cracked ceiling finally opened up and I realized what Miss Chen had been planning, just as a massive wooden cabinet fell through, landing on top of Miss Miller, breaking heavily over her body.
“Ha!” A fully healed Oliver had leaped onto Mr. Drake’s back and solved the problem rather efficiently by pulling him down halfway through the floor and leaving him stuck like that. To silence Mr. Drake’s yelling, Miss Chen stuffed his mouth with the sad remains of his pants.
These Ruthless Deeds Page 23
