by Lexi Ostrow
Every cell in his body screamed for him to find a way to flee, and every exhaustive effort was met with the same result, he was stuck.
“Please do not believe we mean you harm,” McKenna said, rising to stand next to her husband. “What we do is of the utmost importance and secrecy.”
“What you are able to learn is a matter far greater than even national secrets,” Jacob added, finishing his wife’s sentence.
“He will be fine. Really, you humans are ridiculous.” The redhead named Seraphina spat as she looked down at her painted nails.
“It does not matter how many decades pass, you will never see humans for anything more than cattle if they are not apart of the Alliance,” Layel said.
She smirked, and her eyes flashed black. “I have made countless progress and strive to protect their kind. Do not ask too much of me at once.”
Jacob cleared his throat, and Layel began to speak.
“I am an Angel.” He gestured betwixt himself and Seraphina. “We are Angels. We are also nothing more than a species of demon.”
Hugo wanted to scream more than he’d wanted to do anything in his life. These people were mad.
“Demons are very real and very much a threat to your life and the lives of every human. Decades ago, I made a choice to make a human aware of what lurked just beneath their noses. A king—Jacob’s father actually—who took my warnings seriously and the Alliance of Silver and Steam was born. Every member in this room holds a seat on the council for that group, each one of us a deadly fighter in our own right.”
“The Alliance was created to save humanity. Unbeknownst to us for many years, we worked without the help of Angels to destroy the demon threat. Do you recall the battle that shook London just over 12 years ago?” Jacob asked. “Seraphina, let him go at least to respond.”
All at once his head was nodding, bouncing to a fro as if it were on some kind of lever.
“I suspected as much. In the colonies, word must have been we were embroiled in a civil war.”
Again, he nodded, not certain he could stomach the implication of what the war might have been.
“It was not. We were fighting demons and thanks to Angels, a veil protected unsuspecting eyes and those who stumbled where they did not belong had their minds wiped.”
His eyes bulged in panic at the notion a person could have memories erased as it meant one could just as easily be controlled.
“Whilst those who hunt the demons are the protectors of this city, of this world, those that create inventions for them to do so are the real heart of the Alliance of Silver and Steam.” As Layel spoke, he pulled a strange gun from his pocket and fired it.
A brilliantly bright purple beam singed the tile mere millimeters from his arse. Swallowing hard, he tried to process what he had just witnessed. It appeared as if the gun had shot a beam of light, not a bullet. A third, no a fourth, impossible feat. Before he could process what he’d seen, a voice filtered into the giant chamber. A voice he hadn’t heard before.
“This is Eliza. Layel, is all well? Is my husband causing problems?” A stern, yet feminine voice demanded.
Layel raised the watch to his wrist and spoke into it. “Not this time . . . Not presently. I have someone I would like you to say hello to. Eliza Cooley, I have before me a Hugo—”
He tried to supply his last name but still could not force sound to come from his lips.
“Seraphina,” Layel growled.
“All right, all right.” With a roll of her eyes and a small hand wave, she looked at him. “Go ahead. You may speak now.”
“Clark.” He was rather shocked to find his voice sounded normal. He’d been certain harm to his vocal chords had been done. “But I really must —”
“Hugo Clark? Tesla’s apprentice?” Excitement had radiated through the communication device before the woman’s tone fell decidedly flat. “So Tesla was not interested?”
McKenna chuckled. “Tesla bolted in such a quick fit I am impressed he did not slip and crack his chin open.”
“Oh,” all the sorrow of the world seemed to drift on that word from the female.
He’d always been in Tesla’s shadow, and whilst he shouldn’t care that these people found him inferior, he did. “I’m not second rate.” He said stubbornly, drawing all eyes to him.
“Please forgive me. I hadn’t meant to imply such. My name is Eliza as you heard. Should you accept the position, you will be working for me.”
Under a woman? What other oddities do these people have up their sleeves?
“Will that present a problem?”
“No Ma’am. I’m not certain I understand how a woman could have risen to power over a man, but I am beginning to realize I know very little outside the scientific world.”
A bark of laughter escaped. “Our time with this device grows near the end of its power supply. I look forward to meeting you in person, should you decide to join our fight.”
A small buzzing sound filled the room, and Layel pushed in a knob. “We call this a communicator. It is among one of many inventions the Alliance has kept a secret. Our goal is to develop more tools and to slowly allow the world to see their creation. It was never our intention to stay completely in the shadows, and with the dawn of automation all around us, it is time for us to help London share inventions.”
“Where do I come in?” He asked, embarrassed by the nervous quiver in his voice.
“We would like you to join our team of inventors. There is little danger in such a position.” Jacob spoke.
“Save for when Eliza blows something up,” McKenna added with a giggle that sounded far younger than she appeared to be.
Seraphina yawned dramatically. “He doesn’t seem to be prepared to tackle or kill any of you. I have an evening with an Irishman to get ready for.” With a wave of her hand, she vanished.
“Bloody hell,” he whispered, unsure of whether he should worship the woman or fear her.
“Fear her,” Layel said. “Angels have many gifts, and mind reading is merely one of them some of us can achieve.”
“I would not have to . . . fight . . . the supposed demons?”
“You would not. You will learn of many species in an effort to help you create tools for the hunters to utilize. You will not stand in the line of harm ever unless you choose to do so.”
“Before you decide, and you must before you may leave this chamber, we want you to know this isn’t something you can run from. If you join us, your life will be different in many ways, but it will unlock untold resources and other brilliant minds for you to work with.” McKenna patted him on the shoulder as if he were a small child.
“I have to choose now, in this very moment?”
Three grave faces nodded at him.
I must be bloody insane. I’m considering this. I should be declining and rushing after Nikola to make certain my job is safe.
Despite the thoughts running rampant through is mind, Hugo didn’t move a muscle. “I would like to join. I want to see what the world is being shielded from.”
“Is it for certain?” Clara asked, tinkering with the large metal wing on the work desk before her.
Eliza pulled up the goggles and grinned, happy as a lark. “It would appear so. Sadly, Tesla was too grounded in science to see the truth before him, but his assistant was interested. They should be arriving shortly. The discussed plan included bringing any new recruits directly to the Guild so they could not run off.” Eliza stuck the tip of her tongue out as she tinkered with the gear where the wing attached to the central body piece. “Almost,” she huffed, “got it!” Leaning back she beamed at Clara. “If this works, I’m almost certain the hunters would prefer to ride on the back of dragons versus inside a dirigible.”
Clara bit her tongue to silence her chuckle. She’d heard many a tale about the near fatal trip in a flying balloon to save Guildmaster Cosgrove’s life. Though, she scarcely believed riding in a saddle on a flying metal beast would make them feel any safer, even
if the beast did have the capacity to breathe fire or squish someone by landing on them.
“We can’t test it out in here. I’ll never hear the end of it from anyone if the blasted thing explodes in here.”
“So how will we know it’s functional enough to attach the left wing?” Clara asked, wiping a stripe of grease off her forearm.
“Well, it shouldn’t be a matter of working or not working. I’ve been designing these beasts since I first began at the Alliance. It’s merely a matter of making sure the metal wings are dense enough to, well, flap and the still sturdy enough to lift everything off the ground.”
She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small bird. “Much like this one.” Smiling, she tossed the tiny bird into the air and pushed a button on her communicator.
The miniature metal bird reached its peak height in the air and slowly crashed onto the work desk, exploding in an instant and sending debris into Clara’s face and hair.
“Oh, bullocks! Why is it that when I need something to function, something I’ve done a half million times before, it explodes?” She grunted and dropped her hands on her hips before looking at the other men and women in the workroom. “No one say a bloody thing. Understood?”
Snickers could be heard throughout the workroom, but Clara ignored them. Eliza was a brilliant inventor, and due to her marital status, she’d never batted a lash at Clara’s species. Many of the women had balked at having a succubus in an area dominated by men. She’d gone through rigorous tests to prove she had control of her gifts. Thomas, Felicia and Greyston’s eldest, was not so lucky.
Without warning, a second crash filled the lab, this one sending sparks into the air that landed squarely on the oil coating the large wing. Smoke burst forth in an instant. Black curling tendrils wafted from the project and into the air, wrapping metaphorical fingers of smoke around her neck and in her air. The noise grew to a ruckus, and she could scarcely see Eliza over the rapidly growing flames as they stretched in height.
Suddenly, she was not in the lab with five or so of her colleagues. She was back, just below the Tower of London with flames roaring around her and a Thrasher’s sharp claws sinking slowly into the nape of her neck and her buttocks.
Panic seized her, and without thinking, her body released a heavy dose of Succubus pheromones into the small workspace, her body’s natural reaction to protect itself. Someone near her groaned seductively, and suddenly there were men, and two women rushing to her side. One wafted a burlap safety blanket over the flames whilst another man pawned at her chest, seeking to know if she was all right as he allowed himself to grab a handful of her bosom. Clara forced herself to breathe deeply and remember herself, a feat growing harder with every second the lust levels in the room shot to astronomical levels. Her body began to do what it was created to do, take sexual release as a form of sustenance.
A needy moan passed from her lips and without thought, she tugged the man closest to her against her body, mewling like a puss in heat as she ground against the inventor whom she couldn’t identify in her yearning-induced haze. Wetness pooled in her knickers, and when the other creator rubbed a finger over her core through the trousers, she let her head fall back in ecstasy.
“Clara, let me tend to you,” the man whispered gruffly into her ear, his voice identifying him as Christophe, a French inventor rather new to the London sect.
“All right you lot, that is quite enough!” Eliza shouted over the crackling flames and sensual sounds emanating from many as they took their release into their hands, thanks to Clara.
An alarm bell rang vigorously just before an onslaught of water dumped down upon them as the room full of smoke finally triggered the sprinkler system. Water did wonders to wash away the scent she’d cast out into the fray, and even as Christophe’s tongue danced with hers in expert fashion, she could feel his desire waning as it had been a fabrication, and she whimpered, needing her release far more than any in the room could comprehend. It took mere seconds for Christophe to gasp in horror and draw back, leaving her empty and raging with desire.
The look of disgust crossing his visage doused some of the passion swirling through her. His face curled as if he’d dined on sour milk and cheese and she had to stop her from striking in as anger bubbled up in response.
“As I said, that is more than enough. Christophe, remove yourself from the labs immediately.”
“I couldn’t control myself! The demon did it!” he snarled, pointing at her as if she were a witch.
“The demon’s name is Clara, and you were the only one foolish enough to not resist. Do you think hunters would succeed if they threw themselves onto every Incubus prick or into every willing Succubus body?” Eliza glowered at him as her hands landed on her hips. “They would not, so for the present until you hear from me, you are suspended.” As soon as the command was uttered it seemed to dawn on the Lab Master she’d spoken rather crassly, and she flushed.
“Please, do not punish him. I should have better control.” She hated the pleading in her voice, but she did not wish to create enemies in the only home she had left.
Eliza’s face was still a brilliant red, and her eyes still downcast as she spoke. “Forgive my language. Sometimes living with my husband can have a daunting effect on my manners. He will be punished.” She sighed dramatically and lifted her honey-colored eyes. “As will you. As much as any hunter needs to avoid demon talents, any demon working with the Alliance of Silver and Steam in any capacity must control those abilities or be let go.”
There was something in the woman’s tone of voice indicating for the Alliance, letting go was synonymous with death. Her anger shifted incrementally towards embarrassment at what had happened. It had been unavoidable, and yet, she felt guilty nonetheless. Speaking before Eliza could dole out punishment, she asked the question she’d been too afraid to ask for nearly a decade.
“Do you regret allowing me to work amongst the scientists?”
“Good heavens no!” Eliza tried to smile but fell short. “You showed a remarkable interest in our undertakings when you were deemed to be an ally. I would never wish to destroy or deny the love of science to any.”
The words warmed Clara’s soul. She’d always known she belonged with the hunters; it was what demons did after all. It was in the labs, discovering and helping create new tools that she had always felt like somewhat of an outsider.
“Thank you. I am sorry for my actions. Sometimes the fear from the night of the battle cannot be ignored.”
Shadows passed over Eliza’s face, and she took Clara’s hand tightly. “Do not run from the scars of your past. Embrace them, let them make you stronger.” Her eyes closed and for a moment, it appeared the inventor was lost in a memory of her own. “Nonetheless, I believe it will be best if you seek out an assignment with the hunters for the next few nights. There will be tension amongst everyone after what occurred this eve and if I can shield you from it by sending you to Odette for reassignment, I will.”
Clara knew that Eliza truly meant to help protect her. She also knew that it was the only punishment the woman could assign without involving Odette and the Council on the matter, which could lead to her dismal or death.
Slowly, she nodded her head and sucked in a deep breath to further calm the remnants of anger from Christophe’s reaction. “I understand. I will seek an audience with her now.”
Turning to leave, she couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for Eliza to have to punish those she worked with. The woman was rather timid unless Lucius was in danger and reprimanding others took a resilient heart. She must be stronger than she appears, after all, she will not age at a usual rate, and perhaps she has already lost many to the rigors of age. It can’t be easy seeing McKenna and Jacob age.
Lost in her thoughts, she crashed into the thick steel door that blocked the laboratory from the rest of the below ground level where Odette had her office. Biting her cheek, she withheld from shouting the obscenity running through her mind as pa
in mingled with the ebbing desire to find release. If she did not seek comfort soon, she would likely be unable to control herself and would create another mess. Incubi and Succubae might look human, but their sexual desires were sustenance, and it was as if she’d smelled a feast and denied herself even the smallest morsel.
Allowing the door to close behind her with its weight, she walked the small distance betwixt the lab and Odette’s work chambers. The Guildmaster called out when Clara knocked.
“Please return at a later time. I am expecting someone of great importance.” Odette’s voice held all the command of a leader, despite the woman being thin as a rail. Odette was a Halfling, part human, and part Angel, making her a desirable candidate to lead thanks to her natural compulsion gifts and strength.
“Understood,” she said to the closed door and turned.
She was still fighting off the flames of need with every step and knew that she needed to retire to her chamber and resolve the issue. Desire bloomed hotter with each motion as her body swayed and her thighs gently rubbed together with brilliant friction.
Stepping onto the lift was utter torture as her body knew what was coming, but she was unable to touch herself in the small transport system because it did not rise to the level she resided her. A tremble began to surge through her, a nagging urge to slip her fingers inside her core and take what she needed when the lift came to a stop and opened on the main level at the back of the Grand Hall.
The sight of so many Christmas festivities was enough to derail her hunger for the moment. The hall sparkled with holiday spirit from the front to the back. Each wall was adorned with a wreath complete with an ornament that represented the guild in which the Alliance used as a front. Candy cane sweets were hung with care off oil light fixtures, and red and green balls of paper and delicate glass orbs adorned a giant tree in the center of the hall. Stunning gold and silver bows were tied to many of the tree’s branches, a gift from The Royals as none in the guild could afford such luxurious fabrics for the purpose of trimming a tree. Clara had no clue as to what type of tree it was, simply that it was a pine tree the Danes had begun decorating for Christmas a little whilst back. The tradition of a Christmas tree had launched quickly, and she knew that there was a smaller, less splendid version in the dining hall and Odette’s office.
