Bitches and Brawlers_A Steampunk Fairy Tale

by Melanie Karsak

  He had not shifted form, had made no move to resist Lionheart. He didn’t appear to be carrying any weapons. In fact, he’d done…nothing.

  “Lionheart,” I said.

  The constable’s whistles were growing louder, coming closer.

  Lionheart’s grip on the boy’s throat squeezed tighter. He growled again.

  “Lionheart.”

  The boy managed to get out a single word, “Sir.”

  “Richard, look at him. He’s scared. He’s not a threat. And we need to go,” I said.

  Lionheart studied the boy’s face closer and breathed in deeply. Realizing I was right, he relaxed.

  I watched in awe as the man I knew returned, the wolfy features dissolving back into the handsome knight I’d grown accustomed to. Of course, now his clothes were tattered, but otherwise, he was once more the scholar I knew.

  “Alodie’s auto,” I said, touching Lionheart’s arm gently. “We need to leave before the constables show up. I’ll keep an eye on him,” I said, motioning to Cole.

  Lionheart looked from my hand to my face, the shadow of the unfamiliar rage in his face slowly flickering out. He nodded.

  Pulling my silver blade, I took Cole by the arm. “Don’t try me,” I told him.

  The boy looked from the knife to me. “No, ma’am,” he said then came along quietly. I pushed him into the auto, sliding in beside him.

  Lionheart slipped behind the wheel and a moment later, we were rocketing through the streets of London back toward Temple Square.

  As we drove, the boy’s wide eyes took in the city. As we rounded Tinker’s Tower, he frowned visibly.

  “Never a more hated sight,” he whispered then sat back in the seat, his expression dark. For the first time, I saw a flicker of red in his eyes.

  I stared at him.

  Dammit, Alodie. Just, dammit.

  I leaned forward toward the driver’s seat. “Richard,” I whispered.

  “Yes. I see,” he replied but said nothing more.

  I sat back and slipped my knife into my belt. I wasn’t going to need it.

  Chapter 19: Get the Message?

  When we arrived at Temple Square, there was a flurry of activity.

  Cole and I exited the auto and waited while Lionheart spoke to his knights.

  “The Templars are honorable, not like the others,” I whispered to Cole. “Tell them the truth about how you got here. They will believe you.”

  The boy looked down at me. He really did look like his father, except for his eyes. In Cole’s eyes was a softness and sensitivity that had nothing to do with Cyril.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said. “I just… I just want to go home.”

  Lionheart rejoined me, pulling off his tattered shirt as he slipped on another.

  My eyes lingered where they shouldn’t have. From his chest to his stomach, he was a wall of muscle. But he was covered in scars. The knight’s history was written on his flesh.

  “Thank you, Agent Louvel,” Lionheart said, motioning to two Templars to take Cole from my watch.

  “Remember,” I told the boy.

  He inclined his head to me.

  “And what should he remember?” Lionheart asked me.

  “That the Templars are a force of good and that he should tell the truth.”

  “The truth being?”

  “You saw for yourself. That boy is no alpha. Alodie was using him. He doesn’t want to be here.”

  Lionheart nodded. “I concur. We’ll question him.”

  “I need to go back to headquarters and address the mess at the dock,” I said. “And you?”

  “Alodie is still missing. I’ll go with a band of knights and hunt her down. By morning, you may be in want of a job, Agent Louvel.”

  “Ah, but you forget something.”

  “And that is?”

  “Someone still needs to keep an eye on you.”

  Lionheart chuckled. “Whatever would I do without you, Agent Louvel?”

  “I’d hate to imagine.”

  A moment later, Sir Handel joined us. “Sir, a message,” he told Lionheart.

  Lionheart nodded to him, motioning for him to wait a moment.

  The knight pressed the message toward Lionheart again. “Sir.”

  Lionheart took the note from Sir Handel’s hand.

  Taking my cue, I inclined my head to Lionheart. “Be careful, Sir Richard.”

  “You too, Agent Louvel,” he replied.

  I turned and headed out of Temple Square. I groaned inwardly when I thought about all the paperwork I was going to have to fill out regarding the incident at the docks. But first, I needed to check in with Edwin. Running around with Lionheart all night had my heart and mind twisted up. Seeing Edwin would set me back to right again. I was sure of it.

  When I arrived at headquarters, it was late at night. Stopping at dispatch, I asked for a few agents to be sent to the docks to clean up the mess and to hush the Bow Street Boys. With that done, I headed inside to see if Edwin was still there.

  Annoying, distracting, and completely endearing, Lionheart’s behavior confused me. He had a woman who loved him. But he didn’t love her. What did that mean? Did it mean anything? I didn’t know what to think. He cared enough about me to inquire with the Dís. What did that mean? Did Lionheart actually have genuine feelings for me?

  Distracted by my thoughts, I didn’t even notice that someone was sitting in my chair until I’d nearly stumbled upon her. Agent Rose was leaning back in my seat, her feet up on my desk. She was scanning through a file.

  “Your wolves are making a mess in the dark district, Louvel. It’s practically a bloodbath down there,” she said, flipping through the pages.

  “The Templars are cleaning up the streets tonight.”

  “That’s all well and good for you, but damned if I didn’t lose a mark in the process.”

  “Sorry,” I said with a grin.

  “Looking for Agent Hunter, I suppose,” she said absently as she pushed a lock of her long, blonde hair over her shoulder.

  “I was. How did you—”

  “Come now, Agent. I’ve been around awhile. And you two skulking about the file room for a little snogging is not exactly covert.”

  I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. I was very glad that Agent Rose was not looking at me. “You’re right. You do seem to be well-versed in soft, whispered tones between two people in love,” I said, thinking back to the way Agent Rose and the vampire Constantine had spoken to one another.

  Agent Rose paused as if she got my point. She looked at me over her shoulder, her blues eyes playful. “Something like that. Anyway, Agent Hunter isn’t here. A runner came for him a bit ago with an urgent message. He looked a bit flustered. Never saw him like that before. He said he was going home.”

  A terrible feeling rocked my stomach. “Rose, do you have your auto?”

  Sensing my alarm, she stood. “What is it?”

  “Edwin’s in trouble.”

  Chapter 20: Dirty Deeds

  As Agent Rose’s auto sped through the London streets, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  Alodie’s threat of revenge repeated in my mind over and over again.

  As Rose’s auto slid to a stop outside Edwin’s townhouse, my worst fears came to life as I saw the door had been bashed in and there was a pool of blood on the front steps.

  From somewhere upstairs, I heard a gunshot.

  I jumped out of the auto. Pulling both of my pistols, I raced toward the door.

  “Louvel,” Rose called behind me, cursing under her breath when I didn’t stop.

  Racing into the townhouse, I saw a very dead werewolf lying by the door. It was his blood that was dripping, thank God. The table in the foyer had been toppled over, the lamp broken. The scents of lamp oil and the musty odor of werewolves permeated the place.

  There was another gunshot and the sound of commotion upstairs.

  Rage rising up in me, I turned and raced up the stairs. A soft noise on the steps
behind made me pause and look back. I was surprised to find Agent Rose there. How had she gotten there so quickly?

  Upstairs, glass shattered, and I heard the sounds of fighting.

  I raced up the steps in time to find Edwin cornered by three werewolves.

  He was holding his own but clearly outnumbered.

  Raising my pistol, I shot.

  The first werewolf fell.

  Agent Rose jumped onto the banister, and moving fast, she rushed another of the werewolves. Pulling the knives she always wore on her belt, she sliced as she leaped toward the werewolf.

  There was a hissing sound as silver met flesh. The werewolf howled then fell.

  Grabbing a silver candelabra off the table behind him, Edwin swiped the remaining werewolf across the face then kicked her toward me. Unsheathing my knife, I seized the Lolita and slid my blade along her throat, ending her sorry life. I dropped the werewolf and rushed to Edwin.

  “Edwin,” I said, eyeing him over. He was unhurt.

  “Clemeny, thank god. I got a message you needed me to return home urgently.”

  “Should have taken me with you,” Agent Rose said.

  “I—I wasn’t thinking straight. I could only think of—” Edwin began then looked at me.

  “I’m all right,” I reassured him then looked at the bodies lying on the floor. “Alodie. She told me we were going to pay for messing up her plans. Your servants?”

  “In a safe room in the basement.”

  I nodded then looked over the bodies lying there. Alodie had sworn revenge on us. Tonight, her entire plan was unraveling. This was a desperate move, one last strike to take vengeance before it was too late. But it wasn’t just Edwin and me on which she’d sworn revenge. She’d also promised to take revenge on Lionheart.

  As I stood there, my mind went back to Temple Square and Sir Handel who’d been pressing an urgent message to Lionheart.

  I gasped.

  “Clemeny? What is it?” Edwin asked.

  “Bryony. Oh my god, we need to hurry.”

  The three of us headed across town to Temple Square. When we arrived, I spotted Sir Handel at the gate.

  “You there! Sir Handel.”

  “Agent Louvel?”

  “Where is Lionheart?

  “He left right after you, Agent.”

  “The message you gave Lionheart. Who did it come from?”

  “Sir Geoffrey.”

  Dammit! “Where did Sir Geoffrey take Bryony Paxton?”

  “Miss Paxton?”

  “Yes! Quickly man, your alpha is in trouble.”

  “They were headed to her flat in Chelsea then out to the Lionheart’s country house,” he said then pulled out a notepad. Jotting down both addresses, he handed a paper to me.

  I rushed back to the car. “Chelsea,” I told Agent Rose as I jumped back in. Rose pulled a lever on her auto. The vehicle shot down the street.

  “Clemeny?” Edwin said.

  “I just hope we aren’t too late,” I said, glancing out the window, a sharp pain rocking my stomach.

  Agent Rose slowed her auto to a stop, pulling up behind the vehicle Lionheart and I had lifted from Antoinette. I glanced up at the windows of Bryony Paxton’s townhouse. Everything was dark. Slipping my hand into my vest pocket, I pulled on my night optic.

  The three of us slid out of the auto and headed up the steps to the townhouse. It was as silent as the grave inside and just as dark.

  My heart was slamming hard in my chest, and a sick feeling rocked my stomach.

  What if we were too late?

  What if Bryony and Sir Richard were both already dead?

  No. That couldn’t happen.

  Edwin pulled his pistol and slowly opened the door.

  Activating the light on my optic, everything glowed green. My pistol in one hand, my dagger in the other, I entered the building.

  Edwin and Agent Rose followed behind me. There were visible signs of a struggle. From broken glass, toppled furniture, to blood smeared on the wall, it was very evident a fight had gone down. As we neared the base of the stairs, I found the first body. From what was still recognizable of his mangled face, I knew him as a former member of the Whitechapel pack.

  “Watch your—” I was about to say step but Agent Rose deftly worked her way around the body as if she saw it plain as day. I glanced at her, suppressing a surprised gasp when her eyes shimmered silver for the briefest of moments.

  She met my gaze then winked at me.

  What the hell?

  Reaching out for Edwin, I gently guided him around the body then we headed up the steps.

  I listened for signs of trouble.

  There was nothing.

  It was deadly silent.

  We passed another body on the stairs.

  On the second floor landing, we came across four more bodies.

  Edwin paused at a side table and lit a lamp. We all stood and stared at the bloody scene.

  At the end of the hallway, I heard a strange sound, like a muffled sob.

  “Richard,” I whispered, rushing to the end of the hall.

  As I went, I spotted the body of Sir Geoffrey lying in the hallway.

  Agent Rose and Edwin rushed after me.

  When I got to the door, I stopped.

  Again, I heard that strange sound.

  Standing beside me, Agent Rose nodded to me then slowly opened the door. I pulled the hammer back on my pistol and stepped inside.

  The light coming from Edwin’s lamp cast a soft orange glow in the room, making long shadows out of our silhouettes.

  The place was a bloodbath. There were wolf parts everywhere, blood on the floor, walls, and ceiling.

  If it wasn’t for the striking color of her blonde, nearly silver-colored hair, I wouldn’t have recognized the heap of pulp that had once been Alodie. She had been beaten bloody and unrecognizable and was missing at least one limb. There were other bodies in the room, but there was no telling who they’d been.

  At the center of the room, with Bryony’s lifeless body lying at his feet, stood Lionheart.

  Blood dripped from his fingers as he stood there shaking. He was covered in blood and bits. He stared at Bryony whose vacant blue eyes looked toward me, the lamplight reflecting dimly where life had once been. She was gone.

  Lionheart’s head was bent, shoulders slumped, his hands trembling.

  “Clemeny,” he whispered in a broken voice.

  In that single moment, I couldn’t breathe.

  Agent Rose set her hand on my arm. “Agent Hunter and I will see to this,” she said then leaned toward my ear. “Get him out of here.”

  I looked back at Edwin.

  He had a strange, frozen expression on his face.

  Holstering my gun, I went to Lionheart. He was splattered with blood, his mouth bloody, his clothes torn. There were bites on his exposed flesh.

  “Come with me,” I said, taking him by the arm. “They will take care of her.”

  Lionheart nodded.

  Bending, I closed Bryony’s eyes. Then taking the werewolf by the hand, I led Lionheart from the room.

  As I passed Edwin, I couldn’t—wouldn’t—meet his eyes.

  I didn’t want him to see, didn’t want him to guess.

  Lionheart’s hand in mine, I led him from the room and back out into the city. I scanned the streets. I needed to get him away from there. Immediately.

  “When you’re feeling better, you’re going to owe me a huge thanks for making me drive this accursed thing,” I said, settling him into Antoinette’s auto. I slid into the driver’s seat. I had hoped the joke would reach him, but there was no expression on Lionheart’s face.

  “It’s all right, Richard,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “I’ve got you.”

  Starting the auto, I turned and headed back across town toward Temple Square.

  Chapter 21: Reckonings

  When I arrived at Temple Square, everything was in upheaval. They let me through the gate. I drove in, par
king the auto.

  Lionheart got out and headed directly to the chapel.

  Sir Blackwood, who looked like his night hadn’t been much better than mine, crossed the square to me.

  “Agent Louvel?” Sir Blackwood said, looking from Lionheart to me.

  I shook my head. “Alodie is finished. But… Bryony Paxton was murdered. I’m sorry, but Sir Geoffrey also did not survive. The Red Capes are on site.”

  Agent Blackwood frowned. “I see. Maybe I should…” he said then turned toward the chapel. He paused and looked back at me. “You go. I will see to the rest of it.”

  I inclined my head to him then went to Temple Church. I entered quietly, holding the door behind me so it would merely click shut. Lionheart was leaning over the pedestal of holy water. He’d washed his hands and face. Streaks of orange-tinted water dripped from his hands into the bowl. His tattered shirt lay on the ground.

  Moving carefully, I stepped toward him.

  I watched as he inhaled deeply. He looked up at me from below a lock of hair. Turning, he advanced on me with such fierceness that I was struck dumb. He crossed the room, grabbed me by the waist, and placed such a fierce kiss on my lips that I was too shocked to think.

  But not too shocked to fall into the embrace I had so desperately been trying to avoid, the kiss I had wanted and wanted to escape at all costs. I closed my eyes and kissed Richard Spencer, the man, not the wolf. The man whom my heart yearned for, but whom I knew I had to deny.

  I felt his hot tears on my cheeks as he pressed me closer and closer. I fell into his embrace until I saw stars before my eyes and felt dizzy.

  After a time, Lionheart pulled back and stared at me.

  I reached out and touched his cheek, wiping the tears from his face.

  The muscles around his eyes twitched and then those around his mouth.

  “Clemeny,” he whispered, touching my face. “I…I…”

  Turning from me, he walked across the chapel to the altar, falling on his knees before the effigy of Christ hanging there.

  “God, why have you cursed me? Why have you made me into this? Why have you done this to me? I was loyal to you, and you took everything from me. I can have nothing. No one. Why, God, why?” Lionheart shouted angrily.