The Golden Spider (The Elemental Web Chronicles Book 1)

by Anne Renwick

  “Thornton?” Her upturned face searched his.

  Now was not the time or place to declare himself. “I…‌” He tried to turn away. There was a spy to neutralize. All else must wait.

  But she reached up and gripped his head, pulling him back to her for another soul-searing kiss. “I need you to stay safe as well,” she said, pressing her forehead against his. “I also need to help.”

  “Then help me watch.” He tugged her against his side, very much wishing to continue where they’d left off, but not at the cost of missing Lady Huntley. “Any minute now, she should appear.”

  Together, they stared fixedly through the filthy window, every muscle tensed in anticipation. Time was passing. Too much. Had he guessed wrong? Was Lady Huntley crazy enough to attempt a dirigible escape?

  His eyes lifted to the roof of Airship Sails. Would he stand here helpless while that woman flew away unhindered, carrying years of research with her?

  But he saw nothing.

  He’d wait three minutes more, then give pursuit.

  Two minutes.

  One.

  Then he saw her.

  She mounted the platform, but did not arrive alone. She had Amanda’s sister.

  Lady Huntley held Lady Emily’s neck in a tight grip with one hand while pressing a pistol to her stomach with the other. Tears streamed down Emily’s face.

  Beside him Amanda smothered a cry of distress. He pushed her down, out of sight. This mission had gone terribly awry.

  Lady Huntley boldly marched Amanda’s pregnant sister out onto the submersible’s launch deck. Over Lady Huntley’s shoulder hung a bulging canvas satchel. She now had everything she needed to make a clean escape. Devices, the plant, and a hostage at whom no man in his right mind would fire.

  How had she managed this?

  He swore.

  Luca.

  Emily would have rushed to her husband’s side. Where Lady Huntley lay in wait, unwittingly released to care for the very man who‌—‌Thornton resolved‌—‌would be her last victim.

  All neatly orchestrated.

  “I see you there, Thornton. Amanda,” Lady Huntley called. “Stay where you are, and I promise to let Emily go. Safe and unharmed. Just as soon as I leave Britain behind. Think of it as a gift, in return for all you’ve given me.”

  “Look at me, Amanda,” he whispered, ignoring the taunt. “We’re going to save Emily. Even if it means losing everything else. Understand?”

  Amanda nodded, concern and worry in her eyes.

  He positioned himself behind the station door, crouching, TTX pistol at the ready. If killing multiple gypsies wasn’t reason enough, the moment Lady Huntley had aimed a weapon at an unborn child, all his scruples about hurting a woman evaporated. He’d like answers and justice, but he’d be lying if he denied entertaining thoughts about firing a third bullet and dropping Lady Huntley dead to the ground.

  He’d yet to fire a third bullet at anyone, male or female. As a physician, it was a matter of principle. One he would set aside to save Emily.

  But stopping Lady Huntley was going to be harder than he’d like. Gone were the full black skirts, the tightly fitted bodice of cambric. His former laboratory assistant‌—‌once a docile and grieving widow‌—‌was now encased in thick, protective leather. Leather leggings, leather boots, leather gloves, as well as a padded leather coat with a high collar and a hood. Goggles covered her eyes.

  Anyone but Thornton would have been hard-pressed to identify her, but they had spent the last year at each other’s sides, working seamlessly together in his laboratory. He knew her height and build, he knew her stride, and he knew the color of her hair. Tendrils of it blew free about her face.

  Try as he might, he could recall no indications she worked for a foreign government, yet he couldn’t stop a certain rage that swelled inside his chest. She was responsible for the deaths of many, including his best friend.

  Well aware of the technology possessed by the Queen’s agents, she was prepared. All that leather might well hamper the penetration of the bullet, slowing‌—‌even stopping‌—‌the entry of the TTX into her system, but it would not stop him from trying.

  Only the pregnant woman she dragged alongside her would. Emily would survive a bullet. The tetrodotoxin levels from one bullet weren’t high enough to kill a woman her size, but a baby…‌ there was no anti-toxin. He couldn’t risk it.

  Using Emily as a shield, Lady Huntley advanced slowly and steadily toward the submersible’s hatch. Then Emily tripped, and Thornton grabbed the opportunity, taking swift aim and pulling the trigger. With a hiss, the TTX bullet shot through the air and lodged in Lady Huntley’s thigh.

  He ducked back behind the door.

  With a howl of frustration, she returned fire. Her bullet missed, slamming into the door beside him with a small explosion. Fragments of scalding metal sprayed into Thornton’s neck, seeming to bite with tiny teeth.

  He ignored the stinging sensation even as his heart pounded a warning. One more hit and Lady Huntley would drop. This would all be over. He rotated the barrel locking another cartridge in place, waiting for her to release Emily.

  But she didn’t. She swung her arm wide, discharging her weapon. The observation window shattered. Amanda screamed.

  Thornton looked. He had to. Amanda clutched her shoulder with one hand, her face contorted with pain. Blood blossomed across her sleeve. “Amanda!” he yelled, his hesitation costing him precious seconds.

  “Go!” she yelled. “I’m fine. She’s getting away.”

  With a slight hitch to her step now, and unable to control the bulk of her hostage, Lady Huntley shoved Emily aside and hurried toward the submersible.

  Torn, he turned and lifted his weapon once more. Lady Huntley was moving too fast. He had no choice but to aim for the vast expanse of leather covering her torso. The cartridge struck her upper back, but Lady Huntley kept going. He spun the barrel and fired his last TTX bullet. He missed. With a curse, he charged after her.

  Lady Huntley had just reached the submersible’s hatch and was about to step inside when Thornton grabbed her shoulder and shoved her back onto the platform, placing himself in the path of escape.

  She raised her weapon and pointed it directly at him. “Let me pass,” she said. “Your weapon holds only three cartridges. Mine possesses six.”

  All he could do was delay. Stall in the hope some of the poison passed through the skin into Lady Huntley’s system. “Why?” he asked. “Why such betrayal?”

  “I shoot your lady love and that’s what you ask?” Lady Huntley laughed and rolled her shoulders, as if working out a certain stiffness. “Do you feel the back of your neck burning?” she asked. “An interesting chemical coats these bullets. You should attend to it immediately. To Lady Amanda.”

  He didn’t look away. “Surrender now, and I will see you treated fairly.”

  “Fairly,” she scoffed, her voice taking on a slight German accent. “I know how you view my extracurricular experiments. There will be nothing ‘fair’ about it. But it was necessary. You British, you are too slow to advance your science, wasting time working with rats and other such vermin. Better to be bold, to lose a life or two.” She shrugged. “A culling of society’s undesirables. Everyone wins.”

  “It seems even husbands are expendable.” He bit the words out.

  A sly grin spread across her face. “Ah, at last you ask what it is you really wish to know. Was John aware he carried the phaoscope?” Her hand twitched. “Was he tricked? Or did his beautiful, young wife seduce him to her cause? Let me pass and I’ll tell you.”

  Thornton slowly shook his head.

  “No? Not interested?” She lowered the pistol, pointing it at Thornton’s recently repaired leg. “Very well, then. I must be on my way.” She sighed dramatically. “It seems such a shame; Amanda’s spider has proven stunningly successful.”

  Amanda burst from the submersible station, rushing at Lady Huntley with a wild scream, her arm waving
the broken iron lever he’d handed her.

  “No!” he yelled. What the hell was she thinking!

  Lady Huntley knocked aside the iron bar. It spun across the platform, out of reach. She grabbed Amanda by the hair, tugging her head back, pointing the pistol directly into her neck. “That’s enough of that.”

  Amanda’s struggles quickly subsided. Though she whimpered, she threw Thornton a triumphant look.

  Lady Huntley stepped forward, dragging her newest and most valuable hostage with her. “We’ll be leaving now.”

  His eyes scanned the dock, looking for any advantage, when, from the folds of her petticoats, Amanda’s fist emerged holding the very knife he’d given her to cut the brambles. Her technique was terrible, but the knife was sharp and her aim was true. The blade pierced the leather of Lady Huntley’s leggings, cutting deeply into the musculature of the thigh. If Amanda hadn’t punctured the femoral artery, she’d come damned close.

  With a primal howl, Lady Huntley shoved Amanda violently away.

  Except she wasn’t so easily tossed aside. Amanda had somehow managed to thread her injured arm through the strap that held the canvas satchel over Lady Huntley’s shoulder, and she wasn’t letting go, no matter the pain written on her face.

  Nor was Lady Huntley deterred from making her escape. She took aim at Thornton and fired. The bullet tore through his recently repaired leg. Flashes of searing white pain spotted his vision, and he staggered, momentarily off balance.

  Amanda held on tightly, dragging behind Lady Huntley, refusing to let go of the bag. With the bloody knife still in her fist, she hacked at the strap until the fibers separated and frayed. There was a loud tearing sound and the strap pulled free from the bag. With her arms wrapped about the satchel, she collapsed on the platform.

  Lady Huntley had lost all but her freedom. As she careened toward the submersible hatch, flinging herself through the opening, Thornton could only see one option.

  He pitched himself through the hatch behind her.

  ~~~

  A shot rang out, making a horrible clanging sound inside the hull of the steel-plated submersible. Amanda shoved aside the satchel, pushing herself to her feet with the one arm that didn’t feel as though it were on fire. She ran toward the hatch, but she was too slow.

  An arm reached up‌—‌Lady Huntley’s‌—‌and pulled the hatch door closed.

  From the edge of the docking platform, she watched in horror as the propeller began to spin. Valves opened and hissed, and the long cigar-shaped vessel began to submerge in a cloud of bubbles, ripping the bollards from the dock.

  She bent over, grabbing the broken iron lever and running toward the dock mechanism that controlled the final set of doors. Once they were open, there would be no stopping Lady Huntley, no rescuing Thornton.

  With the one arm that still responded to her commands, she beat on the mechanism. Over and over and over. She heard screams, barely recognizing them as her own. A sudden hiss. A blast of steam from the mechanism. She jumped back. Had it worked?

  No.

  Gears turned and a winch twisted, yanking upward on the chain that raised the final set of doors. Lady Huntley must have control of the submersible, or it wouldn’t be moving forward. A high-pitched mechanical whine filled the air. The propeller picked up speed, roiling and churning a great froth of water, and the submersible shot forth into the tube.

  Behind her were footsteps and cries of alarm.

  Emily.

  Her sister needed assistance.

  She cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Emily was safely wrapped in Nadya’s arms. Beside them stood Nicu. Factory workers surrounded all three. Several angry-looking men advanced in her direction.

  Emily was fine, but Lady Huntley was carrying the man she loved out into the Thames, to the sea. And he was bleeding.

  Panic gathered inside and rose into her throat. “No!” she screamed, running for the ladder that clung to the side of the tank. Flinging herself down it, falling to the ground, she rose and started running once more. She squeezed past the iron fence and stumbled down to the river’s edge, not caring what might be underfoot.

  Amanda stared at the opening of the tube into the Thames. Hundreds of small kraken churned the water with their tentacles waving, holding on to…‌ pieces of other kraken. It was as if…‌ as if the submersible had exploded outward, shredding all kraken in its way. She looked up and out, but there seemed no other evidence of the vessel’s passage. Before her stretched nothing but an expanse of choppy river. No wake disturbed the water. No air bubbles rose to the surface. Boats moved past, going about their routine. Beyond it London sat, cloaked in the dull gray of the oncoming night.

  Something inside her choked. Gone. Would she ever see him again? Her heart constricted as if uncertain it should continue to beat. She should have said something, declared her love, before it was too late. Before the opportunity was ripped away.

  Out of the gathering darkness, from beneath Vauxhall Bridge, a single small boat fought its way upstream, against the prevailing currents, pointing itself in her direction.

  Black and his agents? If so, they were too late. Far too late.

  Wait. What was that? She struggled to focus through the gloom. There, on the surface of the water, the pattern of waves disrupted. And then she saw it, the metallic hump of the submersible rising in the Thames, water cascading down its sides.

  The hatch opened.

  And Thornton, his dark hair blowing in the wind, climbed out.

  The world spun and grew dark as the kraken-strewn shore rushed up at her.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  BRIGHT LIGHTS OVERHEAD blinded her before she even opened her eyes. Amanda turned her head away from the glare and cracked her eyelids. Where was she?

  The room that swam into focus had a familiar feel. The same stark, utilitarian decor of Lister Laboratories. Yet she was in a hospital bed, the mattress thin beneath her, the pillow almost non-existent, and the wool blanket itched. A row of equally stark beds stretched away from her. All empty but for one. At the far end, beneath a blanket, slept a lone figure.

  “Hello?” she called. Footsteps echoed on the tiled floor.

  A moment later, a familiar face looked down. “About time,” Black said. Amusement danced in his eyes. “Being shot by a German spy is no excuse for lying about unconscious for days on end.”

  Days? “Where, exactly, am I?”

  “You’re in the long-term hospital ward beneath the laboratories for those agents requiring round the clock care. No one was certain what effects the poison might have. That bullet was lodged in your shoulder blade for quite some time, its poisons seeping into your system. Surgery was required to remove it. It was touch and go there for a bit, Lady Amanda. You nearly stopped breathing.” Black frowned. “The Chemistry Department is still struggling to determine exactly what toxin coated those bullets.”

  Amanda struggled to sit up; pain radiated through her shoulder, down her arm as the memories flooded back.

  Shot.

  Lady Huntley also shot Thornton, deliberately firing at his injured leg, underscoring the depth of her betrayal.

  “Thornton?” Was that him at the far end of the room?

  “He’ll be fine.” Black waved away her concern. “Lady Huntley’s bullet only shredded some muscle as it passed through. The toxin made the wound a nasty mess, but it’ll heal. Nice work, by the way. On the fly surgery in the back of a vardo. Once that new wound of Thornton’s heals, the doctors say he’ll soon be as good as new.” He rocked back on his feet. “Ever consider field surgery?”

  Amanda ignored his attempt at levity and sank back into the pillows. Thornton was fine. Yet not here at her side. She couldn’t bring herself to ask if he’d visited. Likely he was back in the classroom, back in the laboratory. She ran her fingertips over the coarse wool blanket. Work and duty would always come first with him. He’d pushed her away when she’d first made her advances, warned her there was no place in his life fo
r a wife. Except…‌ those feverish words, the way he’d clung to her as if she were his lifeline. She was so certain he was about to make a declaration.

  First, she needed to know what had happened inside that submersible. “I heard Lady Huntley’s weapon discharge. I was so certain…‌”

  “Would you like the whole story?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Your messenger boy directed me to the Airship Sales factory. Apologies for not arriving sooner; I commandeered the first river patrol boat I could. My agents and I found you in a crumpled heap at the edge of the Thames, surrounded by gypsies. They caught you as you collapsed, sparing you a swim with the kraken. Impressive that you managed to stave off the effects of that German bullet long enough to run to the river’s edge.”

  “Adrenaline.” The only thing worse than the pain in her shoulder had been knowing that evil woman had the man she loved in her grips. Amanda closed her eyes. The man I love. She hadn’t meant to let that happen, love. She’d warned herself against such feelings and yet there it was. She’d gone and fallen in love with him, body and soul, and lost a piece of her heart in the process.

  His intelligence, his drive, his work. His loyalty to his country and those he cared about. And there was no discounting the physical attraction she felt. That low growl in his voice, those facile fingers, those curls that tumbled over his brow when he was lost in his work.

  But that kiss in the submersible station, it had been their last. It had to be. She’d grown too attached, wanting to keep Thornton for herself. But she wouldn’t. She’d promised to lay no claim on him. She would let him go. Now, while she could still do so with dignity and without embarrassing him, without damaging either of their careers. It hurt. But she didn’t regret her actions. Any of them.

  The hole in her heart tore a little more.

  “How?” she prompted, needing to distract herself from such unwelcome thoughts and feelings. She opened her eyes and looked up at Black. “If Thornton is fine, why didn’t he stop the submersible from leaving the dock?”