The Carnelian Crow: A Stoker & Holmes Book (Stoker and Holmes 4)

by Colleen Gleason

  “You are, as usual, quite correct.” Her mirthful features sharpened as she looked at me. “As it happens, I’ve changed my mind about you, Miss Holmes. At first, when you interfered with me during my attempt to reincarnate as Sekhmet, I wanted to destroy you. You were a fly in my ointment. You and Evaline Stoker—and Irene, of course. She’s always been…difficult. We were once great friends—but that changed long ago, and now, I want nothing more to see her destroyed. But I’ve since changed my mind about you. After having met you adversarially in several ways, I’ve come to the realization that to destroy you would be a detriment to us.”

  “Us?”

  She spread her hands. “Our gender, of course. The so-called weaker sex.” Now she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Think what the two of us could accomplish. Think. We could change the world, Mina! We could, together, alter the way we’ve been controlled—the way our race has been repressed and depressed. The way we’ve been forced to be broodmares and workhorses and delicate trophies to be brought out and glamorized and petted…then put back safely away in our gilded cages.

  “We could work together to change the way we’re perceived, treated. We’d have everything we ever wanted—the freedom to act and dress as we choose—trousers every day if we like!—the ability to possess and manage our own money, property, businesses… To marry whomever we wish—or not at all. I suspect your partner Evaline would be particularly interested in that part of it, wouldn’t she?

  “We could even govern a nation, unlike our own, which is managed by a cadre of men—most of whom are too rich and soft to have any concept of what it’s like to lack for anything, let alone to be a female.” She scoffed, flapping her hand at the absent Parliament. “These men make laws for and about us women without our consent or opinion—many of which keep us placed even more deeply under their control.

  “And don’t patronize me with the reminder that our current queen has reigned longer than any other. Victoria Regina is a mere figurehead, and you’re intelligent enough to know it. The last time we had a queen who actually reigned, it was Elizabeth. And she was magnificent—yet even she had her limitations.”

  To say I was stunned would be an incredible understatement. The Ankh wanted me to join her? To become part of her murderous plot to…do what?

  I managed to find my voice even as my heart thudded wildly in my ears. “What is it we would do? Together. If I…joined you.”

  “We would begin by wresting—gently, of course, for we females are, if nothing else, elegant and deliberate,” she said with a sharp, tight laugh that might have bordered on maniacal. And yet I saw no hint of mania in her eyes. They were calm and lucid and very, very serious.

  “We will wrest control of Parliament—beginning with the House of Lords. Oh, I have it all worked out, Mina. I’ve been planning this for years. You—along with many others—witnessed the first step in my plan last Saturday, at the tragic death of my husband.” She gave a patently false swoon of grief, then smiled at me with sparkling eyes. “Of course you are aware I engineered that. And it was a demonstration to the other wives of parliamentarians, to other women shackled to their men, of what I am capable of doing…and what I would give them the power to do as well.”

  I was nodding. I’d suspected something of that nature, but I confess, I hadn’t anticipated such a broad plan. Lady Isabella didn’t only mean to rid herself of her husband. She meant to help other women do the same. But then what?

  “I see you’re beginning to understand.” Her lips curved in a soft smile. “Good. But you have questions, of course.”

  “You used one of those small battery devices with the wires to…to somehow control Lord Cosgrove-Pitt. You also use it to control the vampires.”

  “Yes, yes, indeed. When you invaded my underground workshop weeks ago, you interrupted the final stages of my experimentation. I was forced to move the laboratory to a different location—namely, here, in a different wing of The Carnelian Crow. It’s much securer here, as you have seen. Now the experimentation is complete, and I offered evidence of that on Saturday. Belmont did precisely what he’d been—if you will—rehearsed to do. He was impeccable in his role, do you not agree?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to verbally do so, yet I didn’t deny that his actions had been quite convincing. “And now what?”

  “Now that I’ve demonstrated the technique, I will be implementing the next stage of my plan: to take over Parliament by controlling the men in it—with the help of their wives.”

  “But…why would you not keep Lord Cosgrove-Pitt alive, and control Parliament through him?” I asked—quite reasonably, I thought. “Why kill him?”

  “Because I detested him. Detested being married to him. Being controlled by him. And because—well, you’ll see. My plan is to bring down the English government completely. Soon, there will be no Parliament—no Home Office.” Her eyes glittered. “Your father will be one of the casualties, you know. Wouldn’t you like that, Mina? Wouldn’t you like to show him how you feel about having been ignored and shunted off by him for years?”

  She was mad…and yet there was more lucidity and forethought in her plans than in those of many a sane man. Or woman, for that matter.

  Lady Isabella leaned forward and covered one of my hands with hers. “The question is, Mina Holmes…would you like to join me?”

  Miss Stoker

  ~ Wherein Miss Stoker’s Acting Ability is Exercised ~

  Pix froze next to me, and I turned at the familiar voice.

  “Princess Lurelia,” I said by way of greeting.

  I wasn’t completely surprised it was the Betrovian princess standing there. After all, the last time I saw her, she had been with the Ankh, publicly stealing the chess queen from us in the Tower of London.

  (Obviously, not the real Ankh, as Mina had explained to me.)

  Either way, both Mina and I had speculated on whether Lurelia had run off to get married to someone of her choice, or whether she’d gone into hiding and remained in contact—or cahoots—with the Ankh.

  Our questions were now answered.

  “Why don’t you step inside?” she said, and I saw that she held some sort of wicked-looking weapon similar to Mina’s Steam-Stream gun. Lurelia was pointing it at me, not at Pix, for which I was grateful. Whatever it was would do less damage to me than to him. “Since you were so eager to see what we have in here, perhaps you’d like a closer look.”

  My companion tried to position himself between me and the gun, but I elbowed him out of the way. Even with my blood loss and injuries, I was stronger, faster, and healed more quickly than he did.

  He was mere mortal—as his previous death had proven.

  Pix shot me a dark look as he recognized my manipulation, and I gave him one right back as we followed Lurelia’s suggestion. This gave me a better look at the setup of the chamber that had been so securely locked.

  There were chairs lined up along two walls in the room. In the center of the space was a large table that contained perhaps two dozen of the small, battery-like devices Pix had been buying and selling on the underground market. I knew he’d never intended for them to be used in the way the Ankh had done—in an attempt to control vampires.

  Or to kill, which was what the Ankh had done to Pix in her underground lair.

  “You—take a seat.” Lurelia nodded at Pix, but kept the weapon trained on me.

  I realized the blood was still trickling from my neck and wrist, despite the fact that I’d sprinkled salted holy water on the wounds. I realized I could use that to my advantage, especially since I didn’t believe Lurelia knew the details about my vampire-hunting heritage.

  As Pix sat in one of the ominous-looking chairs, I made myself stagger a little. I clapped a hand to the bite mark at my neck and tried to appear weak and confused without overdoing it.

  Lurelia pretended not to notice, but I saw a light of satisfaction flicker in her eyes. Still training the gun on me, she moved behind the chair and appeared
to be turning some dials or other controls.

  There was a soft hum and restraints appeared from the back of the chair, fitting around his chest.

  “Hands on the armrests,” Lurelia ordered.

  Pix’s face was a little pale as he complied, and I guessed he was remembering the last time he’d been under the control of the Ankh. If it hadn’t been for Dylan Eckhert, he’d still be dead.

  But even as he complied with her orders, he looked at me, holding my eyes with intent, from across the room. I wasn’t certain what he was trying to tell me, but I got the impression he had a plan.

  Well, that made two of us.

  By now Pix’s wrists were affixed to the arms by a second set of restraints.

  “Comfortable?” Lurelia asked as she came around from the front of the chair. “Excellent. Now, let’s see…what shall we do with you?” She eyed me.

  I was pretending to surreptitiously lean against the wall, and made it appear like I was straightening up when she looked over.

  “What are all those for?” I asked so she’d think I was trying to buy time.

  “Those,” Lurelia said when she saw I was referring to the battery devices, “are about to be sold to the wives of more than half the members of Parliament. As well as some other well-placed men in government.”

  “For what?” I swayed a little, and made a show of trying to hide the fact that I was clamping a hand over the bite on my wrist.

  “You don’t know?” Lurelia laughed. “Well, allow me to demonstrate. This is the training room, where all of the wives will learn just how to use those cunning little devices to control their husbands. Your friend here will be an excellent demonstration.”

  She smiled, and I was struck by the fact that she no longer looked like the bland, colorless princess I’d met almost three months ago. There was not only a spark to her eyes that hadn’t been there before, along with a layer of determination, but her entire being was more…well, hardened. More experienced and confident.

  “I was going to wait for her,” said Lurelia as she picked up one of the devices, “but there’s really no need.” Two wicked-looking wires protruded from one end, and I shivered because I knew what she was going to do with them.

  Still doing my best to appear weak and lightheaded, I sagged noticeably against the wall. “What are you going to do?” I asked, as I supposed most heroines in those novels Mina was always complaining about would do.

  “Watch, my dearest Evaline.” Still holding the gun pointed in my direction, Lurelia made her way back to Pix’s chair. She wasn’t taking any chances, but the gun wavered a bit as she had to work one-handed to set up the device.

  I saw the way Pix’s face tensed when Lurelia inserted first one, then the other, wire into the back of his shoulders and neck. He didn’t struggle, but nor did he look at me.

  I was afraid to make my move too soon—for she could just as easily aim her weapon at Pix as she could at me, and she was much closer to him. And then there were the electrofying wires to be concerned with.

  But my heart was beating like wild, and I knew I didn’t have much time—but I also couldn’t make a mistake. If I moved too quickly or too late, Pix would be fried or he’d be shot.

  “There we are. Comfortable, now?” Lurelia asked Pix. She shot a sharp look at me as if to ensure I hadn’t moved—I hadn’t—and then, with a flourish, she turned on the device.

  I heard the soft hum, and saw Pix’s eyes widen and his mouth tighten as if in pain.

  Oh, gad. I had to move.

  “Don’t worry, it takes a minute or two to warm up,” Lurelia told me with a smile. She had that gun pointed straight at me as she walked over to where the wall was holding me upright. “We can watch together.”

  She trailed the barrel of the gun along the edge of my jaw as she leaned close and murmured, “You should know I have a particular fondness for you, Evaline. I—”

  But I’d moved, surging up and knocking the gun from her hand. It went flying through the air, spinning over the floor—but I didn’t go after it.

  There was a sharp pain at my neck as I dove across the room and, without hesitation, yanked the wires from the back of Pix’s neck. Something sizzled and burned my fingers, but they came free. In that instant, our eyes met and I saw relief, gratitude—and fury.

  He was unhurt. I’d managed it in time. Thank Providence.

  I turned back to face Lurelia, who, to my surprise, hadn’t gone after the gun either. Instead, she’d moved to what appeared to be a control panel in the wall. I noticed she had a large silver cross dangling from a broken chain in her hand. Mine. That had been the sharp pain when I pulled away.

  “I’m not very happy with you now, Evaline,” she said. “You’re just going to make it worse—for him and for yourself.”

  With a great flourish, she slammed her hand down on one of the buttons inside the panel, then pulled a lever. “She’ll be here any moment now. I wonder whether you’ll still be able to greet her.”

  I looked over at the sound of a quiet rumble and saw a door scrolling open at the other end of the room.

  All at once, the back of my neck turned to ice…and then the UnDead came in.

  Miss Holmes

  ~ An Exceedingly Satisfactory Tete-a-Tete ~

  As I considered Lady Isabella’s offer, I thought of all the criticism I’d borne over the years—of being too intelligent, too unladylike, too loud and opinionated. Too emotional. I thought of the way people stared and whispered askance when I wore trousers, split skirts, or other Street Fashion ensembles with over-corsets.

  I thought of the man who’d stood, haranguing me as I examined poor Belmont Cosgrove-Pitt’s body as the blood oozed from his nose and ears, and the crowd that had snickered behind its hands and gasped in shock and ridicule when I chased after a pickpocket at New Vauxhall Gardens. I remembered Evaline’s drawn, hopeless expression as she spoke of her predicament: to marry when she did not care to do so, because it was required of her.

  And I remembered what Dylan had told me about the future. About how things were different there. About how women were treated differently then. Perhaps not completely equally, but they were, at least, allowed to wear trousers and curse and drink ale and smoke and not to marry. They could be doctors, lawyers, scientists—even members of government. They could vote.

  But there were other ways to accomplish those improvements.

  I pulled my hand back. “I think not, Lady Isabella.”

  Her face fell. “And in so doing, you will return to a world of repression and control by the male species. You resign yourself to such a restrictive life. You disappoint me, Mina.”

  “Then we are in agreement,” I replied. “For you disappoint me. Instead of harnessing all of your brilliance—and you are brilliant, Lady Isabella; nearly as brilliant as a Holmes—and using it to improve the stature of women, you’re using it to repress and control, and to even murder men. You mean to inflict upon them the precise antithesis of what you want for yourself: freedom to live as you wish.”

  “They deserve it. They all deserve it.” Her expression became angry. “Very well, then, Miss Holmes. Consider my offer of partnership rescinded, and—”

  A sound—a dull tolling noise like that of a bell—drew her up short. She muttered something most definitely unladylike and rose. Clearly, something had alarmed her.

  “Our conversation is over, Miss Holmes. You may see yourself out.” She snatched up her veiled hat and started toward the opposite end of the chamber from whence I’d come.

  I stared after her. That was it? She made me an offer, I refused, and she was simply going to allow me to leave?

  As if reading my mind, Lady Isabella paused at what appeared to be another doorway. “Oh, I could kill you, of course. But that would be too simple, and far too boring. I believe I’ll find it more stimulating to continue to match wits with you—and to enjoy you watching, helpless to stop me, from my plans. After all, who would believe it of me?” Carefully
replacing her hat, adjusting the veil into place, she smiled…then slipped past the open door. It closed behind her, and I heard the distinct sound of a lock clicking.

  I wavered—wanting to follow her before she disappeared, and also wanting to retrieve Grayling, for Lady Isabella was correct. No one would believe me if I told them the truth, but if Scotland Yard Inspector Ambrose Grayling saw that the villainess was the wife of Belmont Cosgrove-Pitt—and his distant relative—then everyone would have to believe. Especially him.

  My decision made, I spun and started back toward the silky curtain barrier, but I stumbled and caught the edge of the table. The force (and I) sent it tumbling to the ground with a great crashing sound.

  I heard someone roar my name, and all at once, there was Grayling, flinging aside the curtains. His false mustache was dangling, and the beard was gone, and accompanying him was the unmistakable smell of UnDead ash. A large silver cross bounced on his chest as he fairly leaped across the room to me.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, but before I was able to respond in the affirmative, he pulled me to him in a rough embrace. His arms went around me, squeezing me tightly, and I discovered I rather liked the feeling of his warmth and the solidness of his figure, and of course I inhaled a great breath of vampire dust—along with his particular minty, lemony Grayling scent.

  He spoke into my hair. “It took me far longer than I’d anticipated, there being two of them left to guard the door. I didn’t want you to go in here alone, Mina. Did she hurt you?”

  “No, no, of course not,” I said, stunned by the show of—was it affection, or merely high emotion that I hadn’t myself become the dead body I had the tendency to attract?