Supernatural Devices (A Steampunk Scarlett Novel: Book 1)

by Kailin Gow

  Scarlett did not like the sound of that. “Cruces…”

  Cruces was already squaring up to Rothschild, violence promised by every line of his expression. When he looked back to Scarlett, his fangs were prominent.

  “Go now! I don’t want you caught up in this.”

  “It is a little too late for that, Cruces,” Rothschild said. “Scarlett has been caught up in this from the moment it began. Or did you think this was coincidence?”

  “He said I was the reason for this,” Scarlett explained, from the side.

  “You didn’t think this was just about your ring, did you?” He reached into a pocket and produced something that shone gold in the light. “After all, I have my own. We need Scarlett more than that, though I must admit that depriving you of the things you want is rather fun, old friend. First your ring. Then the girl. Most enjoyable. I think you’ll agree that I owe you that much.”

  “No,” Cruces said. “You don’t.”

  “Cruces!” The vampire aristocrat had been correct about the effects of the spear being temporary. Elder stood as he spoke and threw himself on Cruces. The two vampires fought in a flurry of limbs and flashing fangs, trading blows and slamming one another against the walls of the room with seemingly impossible force. When Elder drove Cruces face first into the wall by the fireplace, Scarlett was surprised that it did not give way completely.

  Their struggles were furious, but they also meant that Cruces was no longer in a position to confront Rothschild. Even as Scarlett stepped back towards Tavian, Rothschild pushed past her, lifting the young gypsy man one handed and pushing him back against the nearest wall with his teeth bared. “I believe Miss Seely is with me, not you.” He looked over to Cecilia. “Fetch her for me, Cecilia.”

  Cecilia looked at Rothschild for several seconds, and Scarlett prepared herself to have to protect herself from the other girl. Then Cecilia did the one thing Scarlett hadn’t been expecting. She stepped forward and slapped Rothschild sharply. It probably wasn’t that hard in vampire terms, but the shock of it was enough for Tavian to slip free, darting past them.

  “Why you…”

  “That’s for how you used me, and that’s for my brother,” Cecilia said. “How dare you discard me like that, you… monster.”

  Scarlett admired the other girl’s fire, but there were more important things right then than telling Rothschild what they thought of him. “Cecilia, where is Gordon? Where is Cruces’ ring?”

  Cecilia looked like she might say something, but before she could, Rothschild’s hands were on her throat. They squeezed with the kind of terrible force that only a vampire could bring to bear, and Cecilia fell to the ground, unmoving.

  “No!” Tavian rushed past Scarlett, her dagger in his hand. He had obviously taken it from where it had fallen in the grate, and now he used it to slash and thrust at Rothschild. The vampire was fast, but he clearly knew that the knife could harm him, because he was wary and unwilling to close the distance. He and Tavian darted around in a frantic game of cat and mouse, even while Cruces and Elder continued their wall shaking struggle.

  Scarlett ignored both conflicts for a moment, kneeling beside Cecilia, trying to find some sign of life. One look told her that Cecilia’s neck was broken, her throat crushed, but Scarlett sought for some slim sign of life anyway. There was none.

  “I’m sorry, Cecilia,” Scarlett said softly. “I’m sorry that the people you thought loved you didn’t, and that you couldn’t see the ones who did.”

  She stood then, and saw that Tavian was doing well in his fight against Rothschild. He had the vampire hemmed in and was making short, slashing cuts, ready to move in for the kill with a thrust to the heart. After what Rothschild had done, Scarlett would gladly have plunged the blade home herself.

  In that moment though, a cry came from Cruces. Scarlett turned, and saw Elder with the fey spear in his ancient hands, while Cruces was surrounded with the faint blue glow that suggested he had been stabbed with it. Cruces was helpless, in no position to resist as Elder dropped the spear and prepared to finish him.

  Scarlett reacted on instinct. Without so much as pausing to consider what it might mean, she levered the dagger out of Tavian’s hands, gripped it tightly, and leapt towards the spot where Elder’s arm was already going back for the killing blow. Scarlett plunged the dagger into his back at heart height, feeling no resistance as the dagger plunged into ancient, paper thin flesh. In less than a second, all that was left of one of the world’s most ancient vampires was a pile of silvery dust.

  A pile in which something glinted golden. Cruces’ ring. Scarlett bent, picking it up and holding it to the light. It was almost identical to Rothschild’s. She would have given it to Cruces had he not still been stunned by the spear. Instead, Scarlett held it a second longer.

  Heat poured from it, making the metal almost burning hot. Scarlett dropped the ring, then managed to pick it up daintily in her handkerchief. As she did so, Rothschild laughed. He wasn’t standing far from Tavian, but he was obviously in no danger now that Tavian did not have the dagger.

  “I knew it!” he said, with a level of glee that was almost gloating. “I was the one who told the others in the Order how important it was to find the right girl, and I was right. You are a tracker for us, Scarlett. Every Device you touch will respond to you.”

  “And through the mark on me, you will feel it,” Scarlett guessed. That explained why she had been marked rather than killed, at least.

  Rothschild bowed like an actor receiving applause. “Finally, you understand. Oh, Holmes will be so proud when you go back to him. Oops.” He put a hand to his mouth theatrically. “You can’t, can you?”

  Scarlett looked over at the vampire, then at Tavian. “What is he hinting at? Did something happen to Holmes?”

  Tavian shook his head. “I do not know. He was not there when I went looking.”

  “You think he was there at all?” Rothschild countered. “The right actor, with the right glamour…”

  “You arranged that too,” Scarlett guessed.

  “Well, I had to be sure that you would be pointed at the case. Why else do you think London’s most famous detective did not clear the matter up in a trice? All that nonsense about you being the only person for the job.” Rothschild considered it for a moment. “Well, perhaps it isn’t nonsense. You are exactly the right person to do the job the Order wants done.”

  Scarlett shook her head. “You think I am really going to help you?”

  Rothschild laughed once more. “I think you are going to help Holmes and Gordon.”

  “What have you done with them?” Scarlett demanded. It was hard to keep from using the dagger on the vampire, but if she did so, Scarlett knew that she might not see either man again. It was enough to make her curb her temper, for now.

  Rothschild shook his head, and then moved. In less than a second, he was over at one of the doors leading from the room, half out of it and looking back. He glanced at Cecilia with something akin to regret, then, though the expression did not last.

  “That is something you will have to find out for yourself,” he said. “Of course, since the Order dealt with them in a way that will undoubtedly require the Devices to find them once more…”

  “You have created a situation where I have to look for the Devices whether I want to or not,” Scarlett finished for him. “You want me to put together the pieces, while you stay consistently just one step behind.”

  Rothschild shook his head. “Oh no, dear Scarlett. Not behind. Not always. When it comes to the Devices, I assure you that we will be ahead of you, in the end. Now, I should go, because undoubtedly Cruces over there will regain the ability to move momentarily, and I have no fondness for facing superior forces.”

  “You should get used to it,” Scarlett warned.

  Rothschild raised an eyebrow. “You actually believe that? And I was starting to have such respect for your intelligence. The Order is large. It is ancient. And it is growing. You are not
some raging forest fire to overwhelm us, Scarlett. You are a few points of light that will eventually be snuffed out when you have shown us what we need to see. Farewell.”

  He was gone through the door before Scarlett could move to stop him. She had more sense than to follow. Rothschild would have a way out, and for now… for now there was Cecilia to consider, along with Tavian’s grief, and too many other things to deal with at once. For all that they had recovered the ring, it did not feel much like a victory to Scarlett in that moment.

  Chapter 20

  The darkness hung about them like a shroud as they stood outside the caravan Tavian shared with his sister. He’d moved it away from the main gypsy camp, partly so that he could be alone with his grief, and partly so that Cruces could travel with them for this last part. Cecilia’s body was laid out on the earth before the caravan, and Tavian knelt over her, his tears obvious to Scarlett even in the half light.

  Scarlett stayed near him, even though she could feel Cruces’ eyes on her. Tavian needed her then, and she wanted to comfort him during his pain. On the way over, Cruces had explained the gypsy way when it came to funerals. When dawn came, Tavian would put his sister’s body in the caravan and burn it around her as a funeral pyre. Until then, it seemed, all they could do was be there for him. Even Cruces stood there, his fey spear leaning against the caravan, where he’d placed it “just in case” he’d said.

  “I know my sister did many things wrong,” Tavian said after kneeling there silently for a while. “I know she did things to hurt both of you, but she was my sister, and I will miss her.”

  Scarlett reached out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. It didn’t seem like enough, somehow.

  “I know,” she said. “I’ll remember her too. There were a couple of moments when I felt like there was some kind of kinship between the two of us. Like we at least understood one another.”

  Scarlett knelt beside Tavian then, her arm around him. She pulled him close to bury his face against her, feeling the wetness of his tears on her skin.

  “I’m going to go and find a drink,” Cruces declared, “or it’s going to be a long night.”

  Scarlett saw the look of jealousy that crossed his face as he said it, but right then, there wasn’t much she could do about it. Tonight was about Tavian’s grief, not about whatever Cruces felt for her. So she knelt with the young gypsy man pressed close to her while Cruces left, slipping off into the dark. She knelt like that for what felt like several minutes, feeling the rise and fall of Tavian’s chest against her as he didn’t bother to hold back the tears.

  Perhaps what happened next was inevitable. Tavian pulled away from her slightly, looking at Scarlett through tear-stained eyes, and then he moved his lips on hers. He kissed her deeply, passionately, with such need that Scarlett found herself swept up in it almost instantly, so that she was kissing him back with fervor. Scarlett knew that the kiss had come from Tavian’s hurt, his need for something that wasn’t grief, but right then she did not mind. Right then, she wanted it as much as he did. Tavian began moving his hand along her waist, while Scarlett found her hands roaming Tavian’s muscular chest.

  She had never had a man cry on her before. Her heart reached out to the handsome gypsy man, wanting to soothe away his pain. Despite her attraction to Cruces, Scarlett felt drawn to Tavian, too. He was sensitive, romantic, and straightforward with her. She couldn’t help wanting more with him, as their kiss grew stronger, more demanding.

  Perhaps that was why neither of them noticed the figure approaching through the darkness until the last second, when Scarlett caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye. Acting on instinct, she shoved Tavian aside, then rolled clear, just as Rothschild’s fangs struck in the space where Tavian had been kneeling.

  The vampire looked at the gypsy man with something approaching fury in his eyes.

  “She still has my mark on her, changeling. I can sense where she is, feel what she feels. She is mine. Not yours, mine.”

  Scarlett stood, placing herself between the two of them. “I don’t belong to you. I don’t belong to anyone! You think you can come here and make some kind of claim to me when you have murdered Tavian’s sister? Is that what happens to women who get close to you, Rothschild?”

  Rothschild looked down at Cecilia’s still form and smiled. “Murdered? For a murder, I think you’ll find that there has to be a death.”

  He was still smiling when Cecilia took a rasping breath, gasping as she tried to get air into her lungs, her back arcing with the strain of it.

  “Impossible.” The word was out before Scarlett could stop it.

  “Fewer things are impossible than you might think,” Rothschild countered, “and the fey are far from easy to kill. Trust me, I have tried. Without the Devices, it tends not to take. Have you started looking for them yet? You’ll need them to get to Gordon and Holmes, remember.”

  “You’ve come here, now, for that?” Scarlett demanded. In an instant, she had her dagger out. “Well, at least we know that this will kill vampires.”

  She slashed at Rothschild. He moved back, and the cut missed. The thrust that followed it cut through his clothing, but appeared to miss flesh. Scarlett lunged then, and perhaps she did it carelessly, because in an instant Rothschild was behind her, one hand forcing the arm that held the dagger out to the side while the other was wrapped around her waist.

  “Tell me Scarlett, do you feel what there is between us?”

  “The only thing I feel right now,” Scarlett replied, “is the urge to kill you.”

  “Oh, Scarlett, you have no poetry in your soul. There is something electric between us. Why else do you think I waited for Darthmoor to be gone? I’ve come to fetch you.”

  Rothschild was pressed tightly to her, and Scarlett could not get free, despite squirming in his grip.

  “You are either making fun of me,” Scarlett declared, “or you are insane.”

  “No,” Rothschild replied, his grip on Scarlett not loosening in the slightest. “I need you. At the very least, I need you to guide me to the other devices. Believe me, Scarlett, you would prefer that it was me rather than one of the other members of the Order.”

  “Really?” Scarlett snapped back. “Because right now, it really does not feel that way.”

  “You saw Elder.”

  “I killed Elder,” Scarlett countered.

  Rothschild laughed then. “Do you think you can kill all of them? You cannot. And if you keep going on the path you are on, you will find yourself hunted by them. They will do things to you that will make you wish you had gone with me. At least with me, you will be safe.”

  “Safe?” Scarlett kicked back with her heel. It made no difference. “You think I would ever trust you? You are trying to use me the way you used Cecilia, and look what happened to her.”

  Cecilia was still on the ground, pulling herself slowly to a sitting position. There was no sign of the damage Rothschild had done to her, but she rubbed her neck nonetheless.

  “Don’t trust him,” she warned. Her voice was a little hoarse, but given that Scarlett had been resigned to never hearing it again just an hour or two ago, it was a massive improvement.

  “Oh, believe me,” Scarlett said, “I won’t.”

  Scarlett felt rather than saw Rothschild shrug. “Trust me or not, you are going to come with me, Scarlett.”

  He took a step back, but Tavian was there, Cruces’ spear in his hands. “You are not taking her anywhere.”

  “Really?” Rothschild turned carefully so that Scarlett was between him and Tavian. “Yet how are you going to throw that spear without hurting dear Scarlett? I am sure you wouldn’t want to hurt her, would you?”

  Tavian hesitated, the spear held high, in position for a throw.

  “You are wondering if you can strike me without harming her,” Rothschild guessed. “Tell me, what do you think the chances are? Whereas if you simply let me take her, she will at least be alive. I’m sure you can see the sense in th
at, young changeling.”

  “Let her go!”

  Cruces’ voice echoed around the space in front of the wagon, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

  “Let her go, Rothschild, or you and I will fight, and you would not have waited to come here if you believed that you could win.”

  “Perhaps I merely wanted to avoid hurting an old friend?” Rothschild countered. “Do not believe yourself to be invincible, Darthmoor. I assure you that you are not.”

  “Do you want to put that to the test?” Cruces demanded, and Scarlett still could not place his voice. She found herself wondering whether he had really gone off to feed. Perhaps he had, ignoring Tavian’s grief because he had known about Cecilia just as much as Rothschild did. Yet perhaps it had been more than that. There was his insistence on bringing the spear to consider, as well as the way he had been close enough to come back when Scarlett was in danger. Had he guessed that Rothschild would try something like this?

  “I might,” Rothschild said. “After all, she is too valuable to simply give up. You, of all vampires, will know that. But then, perhaps that is why you had her believing this was a real case even though you knew better.”

  Scarlett looked out into the darkness. “Cruces? What does he mean?”

  Cruces came out of the darkness in a blur. He slammed into Rothschild, knocking him from Scarlett, and then kicked him hard enough to send the other vampire sprawling. Scarlett considered following up with her dagger, but it turned out that there was no time. Cruces put an arm around her waist and scooped her up in a single movement. Then he was running; running with Scarlett over his shoulder as he took her away from the forest with almost frightening speed.

  “Cruces, what is going on?” Scarlett tried to demand as the vampire ran on, but they were going so fast she could barely get the words out. Cruces ignored them anyway.

  Ahead, there was a road, and on it a cab was parked. Scarlett thought that she might have a chance to find out what was happening once they were both safely ensconced within, but it seemed that Cruces did not intend on merely riding in the vehicle. Instead, he practically threw Scarlett inside, leaping up onto the driver’s seat and dislodging the man who sat there with a snarl that sent him scrambling for cover and had the horses rearing.