The Parasol Protectorate Boxed Set

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The Parasol Protectorate Boxed Set Page 154

by Gail Carriger


  “Prospero,” Dispatch called through the walkie. “Backup is on its way.”

  “Copy. The vic?”

  “Ambulance arrived and confirmed death. M.E. is on his way to make it official.”

  I looked around to get my bearings. He veered right on Mercury St. “The suspect appears to be headed for the Arteries,” I spoke into the communicator. “I’m pursuing.”

  “Copy that, Officer Prospero. Be advised you are required to wait for backup before entering the tunnels.” She told me their coordinates.

  I cursed under my breath. They were still five blocks away and on foot.

  A block or so up I could see one of the boarded-up gates that led down into the old subway tunnels. The system had been abandoned fifty years earlier before the project was anywhere close to completion. Now the tunnels served as a rabbit warren for potion addicts wanting to chase the black dragon in the rat-infested, shit-stench darkness.

  In front of the gate, a large wooden sign announced the site as the “Future Home of the Cauldron Community Center.” Under those words was the logo for Volos Real Estate Development, which did nothing to improve my mood.

  If Speedy made it through that gate, we’d never find him. The tunnels would swallow him in one gulp. My conscience suddenly sounded a lot like Captain Eldritch in my head. “Don’t be an idiot, Kate. Wait for backup.”

  I hadn’t run halfway through the Cauldron only to lose the bastard to the darkness. But I knew better than to enter the tunnels alone. The captain had laid down that policy after a rookie ended up rat food five years earlier. So I wasn’t going to follow him down there, but I could still slow him down a little. Buy some time for backup to arrive.

  The salt flare’s thick double barrel was preloaded with two rock salt shells. A bite from one of those puppies was rarely lethal, but it was enough to dilute the effects of most potions, as well as cause enough pain to convince perps to lay down and play dead. The only catch was, you had to be within twenty feet for the salt to interrupt the magic. The closer, the better if you want the bonus of severe skin abrasions.

  The runner was maybe fifteen feet from me and a mere ten from the gate that represented his freedom. Time to make the move. I stopped running and took aim.

  Exhale. Squeeze. Boom!

  Rock salt exploded from the gun in a starburst. Some of the rocks pinged off the gate’s boards and metal fittings. The rest embedded in the perp’s shirtless back like shrapnel. Small red pockmarks covered the dirty bare skin not covered with tufts of dark hair. He stumbled, but he didn’t stay down.

  Instead, he leapt from the ground with a snarl. His hands grasped the top edge of the gate. A narrow opening between the gate and the upper concrete stood between him and freedom.

  “Shit!” Frustration and indecision made my muscles yearn for action. My only choice was to take him down.

  Speedy already had his head and an arm through the opening at the top of the gate. I surged up and grabbed his ankles. Lifted my feet to help gravity do its job. We slammed to the ground and rolled all asses and elbows through the dirt and grass and broken potion vials.

  The impact momentarily stunned us both. My arm stung where the glass shards had done their worst, but the pain barely registered through the heady rush of adrenaline.

  Speedy leapt off the ground with a growl. I jumped after him, my grip tight on the salt flare. I still had one shell left, not that I expected it to do much good after seeing the first one had barely fazed him. In my other hand, I held a small canister of S&P spray. “BPD! You’re under arrest!”

  The beast barely looked human. His hair was long and matted in some patches, which alternated with visible wide swaths of pink scalp—like he’d been infected with mange. The lower half of his face was covered in a shaggy beard. The pale skin around his yellow eyes and mouth was red and raw. His teeth were crooked and sharp. Too large for his mouth to corral. Hairy shoulders almost touched his ears like a dog with his hackles up.

  If he understood my command he didn’t show it. That intense yellow gaze focused on my left forearm where a large gash oozed blood. His too-red lips curled back into a snarl.

  I aimed the canister of salt and pepper spray. The burning mixture of saline and capsicum hit him between the eyes. He blinked, sneezed. Wiped a casual hand across his face. No screaming. No red, watery eyes or swollen mucus glands.

  His nostrils flared and he lowered his face to sniff the air closer to me. His yellow eyes stayed focused on my wound. An eager red tongue caressed those sharp teeth in anticipation.

  For the first time, actual fear crept like ice tendrils up the back of my neck. What kind of fucked-up potion was this guy on?

  I don’t remember removing the Glock from my belt. I don’t remember pointing it at the perp’s snarling face. But I remember shouting, “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

  One second the world was still except for the pounding of my heart and the cold fear clawing my gut. The next, his wrecking-ball weight punched my body to the ground. My legs flew up and my back crashed into the metal gate. Hot breath escaped my panicked lungs. His body pinned me to the metal bars.

  Acrid breath on my face. Body odor and unwashed skin everywhere. An erect penis pressed into my hip. But my attacker wasn’t interest in sex. He was aroused by something else altogether—blood. My blood.

  My fear.

  The next instant, his teeth clamped over the bleeding wound. Pain blasted up my arm like lightning. Sickening sucking sounds filled the night air. Fear burst like a blinding light in my brain. “Fuck!”

  The perp pulled me toward the ground and pinned me. The impact knocked the weapon from my hand, but it only lay a couple feet away. I reached for it with my left hand. But fingers can only stretch so far no matter how much you yearn and curse and pray.

  The pain was like needles stabbing my vein. My vision swam. If I didn’t stop him soon, I’d pass out. If that happened he’d drag me into those tunnels and no one would see me again.

  Fortunately, elbows make excellent motivators. Especially when they’re rammed into soft temples. At least they are usually. In this case, my bloodthirsty opponent was too busy feasting on my flesh and blood to react. Finally, in a desperate move, I bucked my hips like a wild thing. He lost contact with my arm just long enough for me to roll a few centimeters closer to my target.

  I reared up, grabbed the gun and pivoted.

  The pistol’s mouth kissed his cheek a split second before it removed his face.

  Backup arrived thirty seconds too late.

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  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Welcome

  Book 1: Soulless

  Soulless: Cover Image

  Soulless: Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One: In Which Parasols Prove Useful

  Chapter Two: An Unexpected Invitation

  Chapter Three: Our Heroine Heeds Some Good Advice

  Chapter Four: Our Heroine Ignores Good Advice

  Chapter Five: Dinner with an American

  Chapter Six: Driving with Scientists, Dabbling with Earls

  Chapter Seven: Revelations Over Chopped Liver

  Chapter Eight: Backyard Shenanigans

  Chapter Nine: A Problem of Werewolf Proportions

  Chapter Ten: For the Good of the Commonwealth

  Chapter Eleven: Among the Machines

  Chapter Twelve: Nothing but Werewolf

  Chapter Thirteen: The Last Room

  Chapter Fourteen: Royal Interference

  Epilogue

  Book 2: Changeless

  Changeless: Cover Image
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br />   Changeless: Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One: Wherein Things Disappear, Alexia Gets Testy Over Tents, and Ivy Has an Announcement

  Chapter Two: A Plague of Humanization

  Chapter Three: Hat Shopping and Other Difficulties

  Chapter Four: The Proper Use of Parasols

  Chapter Five: Lord Akeldama’s Latest

  Chapter Six: The Lady’s Dirigible Invitational

  Chapter Seven: Problematic Octopuses and Airship Mountaineering

  Chapter Eight: Castle Kingair

  Chapter Nine: In Which Meringues Are Annihilated

  Chapter Ten: Aether Transmissions

  Chapter Eleven: Chief Sundowner

  Chapter Twelve: The Great Unwrapping

  Chapter Thirteen: The Latest Fashion from France

  Chapter Fourteen: Changes

  Book 3: Blameless

  Blameless: Cover Image

  Blameless: Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One: Wherein the Misses Loontwill Cope with Scandal in Their Midst

  Chapter Two: In Which Lord Maccon Is Likened to a Small Cucumber

  Chapter Three: Alexia Engages in Entomology

  Chapter Four: Tea and Insults

  Chapter Five: In Which Ivy Hisselpenny and Professor Lyall Are Given Too Much Responsibility

  Chapter Six: Under the Name Tarabotti

  Chapter Seven: The Trouble with Vampires

  Chapter Eight: Trial by Snuff, Kumquat, and Exorcism

  Chapter Nine: How Not to Cross an Alpine Pass

  Chapter Ten: In Which Alexia Meddles with Silent Italians

  Chapter Eleven: Wherein Alexia Encounters Both Pesto and a Mysterious Jar

  Chapter Twelve: The Great Scotch Egg Under the Thames

  Chapter Thirteen: Picnicking with Templars

  Chapter Fourteen: In Which the Infant-Inconvenience Becomes Considerably More Inconvenient

  Chapter Fifteen: Ladybugs to the Rescue

  Chapter Sixteen: On a Bridge over the Arno and Other Romantic Misnomers

  Book 4: Heartless

  Heartless: Cover Image

  Heartless: Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue: P Is for Preternatural

  Chapter One: In Which Lady Alexia Maccon Waddles

  Chapter Two: Wherein Alexia Will Not Be Flung

  Chapter Three: Matters Ghostly

  Chapter Four: Where Tethered Specters Meet

  Chapter Five: The Lair of the Octopus

  Chapter Six: In Which Mrs. Tunstell Proves Useful

  Chapter Seven: The Werewolves of Woolsey Castle

  Chapter Eight: Death by Teapot

  Chapter Nine: In Which the Past Complicates the Present

  Chapter Ten: Ivy’s Agent Doom

  Chapter Eleven: Wherein Hairmuffs Become All the Rage

  Chapter Twelve: Formerly Beatrice Lefoux

  Chapter Thirteen: The Octopus Stalks at Moonlight

  Chapter Fourteen: In Which Lady Maccon Mislays Her Parasol

  Chapter Fifteen: Where Dirigibles Fear to Tread

  Chapter Sixteen: A Clot of Vampires

  Chapter Seventeen: In Which We All Learn a Little Something About Prudence

  Book 5: Timeless

  Timeless: Cover Image

  Timeless: Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One: In Which There Is Almost a Bath and Definitely a Trip to the Theater

  Chapter Two: Wherein Mrs. Colindrikal-Bumbcruncher Does Not Buy a Hat

  Chapter Three: In Which Lord Maccon Wears a Pink Brocade Shawl

  Chapter Four: Several Unexpected Occurrences and Tea

  Chapter Five: Under Cover of Thespians

  Chapter Six: In Which the Parasol Protectorate Acquires a New Member

  Chapter Seven: Biffy Encounters a Most Unsatisfactory Parasol

  Chapter Eight: Alexia Makes an Unexpectedly Damp Discovery

  Chapter Nine: Biffy Experiments with Flirting and Felicity

  Chapter Ten: Wherein Our Intrepid Travelers Ride Donkeys

  Chapter Eleven: In Which Prudence Discovers Sentences

  Chapter Twelve: Wherein Alexia and Ivy Meet a Man with a Beard

  Chapter Thirteen: In Which Idle Letters Waste Lives

  Chapter Fourteen: Wherein Alexia Loans Mr. Tumtrinkle Her Gun

  Chapter Fifteen: In Which We Learn Why Werewolves Don’t Float

  Chapter Sixteen: The Curative Properties of Nile Bathing

  Chapter Seventeen: A Gastropod Among Us

  Chapter Eighteen: The Truth Behind the Octopus

  Chapter Nineteen: How to Retire to the Countryside

  Chapter Twenty: In Which Times Shift

  Meet the Author

  Also by Gail Carriger

  A Preview of Etiquette & Espionage

  A Preview of Dirty Magic

  Orbit Newsletter

  Copyright

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 by Gail Carriger

  Excerpt from Etiquette & Espionage copyright © 2013 by Gail Carriger

  Excerpt from Dirty Magic copyright © 2014 by Jaye Wells

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the US Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Orbit

  Hachette Book Group

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  Orbit is an imprint of Hachette Book Group. The Orbit name and logo are trademarks of Little, Brown Book Group Limited.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  Published by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  First ebook edition: October 2012

  ISBN 978-0-316-21227-4

  E3

 

 

 


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