Gilded Hearts (The Shadow Guild Series)

by Christine d'Abo

  “The little lady did indeed. See here?” He lifted her arm higher. “There’s bruising on the forearm and wrist. It looks like she’d either been restrained or pulled by someone quite strong. A man, I’d guess, based on the size of these marks. I’d say she fought him every step of the way.”

  “Little good it did her.” Dennison took the extractor from around his neck and held it out to Piper. “Miss Smith, would you please do the honors? Let’s see what we can discover about our lady of the evening.”

  Master Ryerson clapped his hands together. “Doctor Harris, would you please give my colleagues and me a moment?” When the coroner hesitated, he added, “I promise we will not touch her without you present.”

  Struggling to his feet, the coroner let his gaze shift between the three of them. “When has it ever been necessary to have three archivists attend an extraction? The most I’ve ever seen has been two, and then it was as master and apprentice.”

  “Doctor, leave.” Dennison stepped in close and lowered his voice. “Please.”

  The doctor snorted, but moved off to the coroner’s carriage. Piper waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Dennison. “That wasn’t necessary. He’s simply doing his job.”

  “If we wanted the old bat to give us some peace, it was.” Turning to Ryerson, Dennison crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze. “What is this about?”

  “Once again, I feel it’s necessary to—”

  “We are not discussing this. Master June and the rest of the Guild Masters put me in charge of this extraction.” There was a biting harshness to Dennison’s tone, so much so that Ryerson snapped his mouth shut. Turning to her with a cold gleam in his eyes, Dennison nodded toward the body. “Now, Miss Smith. Begin the preparations.”

  With one quick look to where Doctor Harris was rummaging through his tools, Piper dropped to her knees and began to pull out the leads to the extractor. Unlike the first time, there was no nervous energy, no excitement to finally be doing the one thing she’d been training for since her arrival at the Archives.

  No, this time Piper knew exactly what was in store for her. She knew that there would be pain and fear, that the woman’s murder would be the most potent of the memories she’d be subjecting herself to. The emotional echo of those memories would be enough to give her nightmares even once the specific details were wiped away. She knew all of this objectively, even viscerally, and yet couldn’t remember the first extraction itself past the point at which she’d turned the machine on. It had been taken, along with Mary’s memories. Nor would she be allowed to keep these new thoughts. They would write themselves onto her mind then be erased, and the hole in her memory would be stretched wider, increasing the unease that she felt.

  She waited until Doctor Harris returned, a leather roll tucked beneath his arm. “I am ready to begin, sir.”

  “If we can just wait a moment longer, Miss Smith, I believe Sergeant Hawkins will soon be back from his survey of the area. He wanted to be present for the extraction.” The doctor glared at both Ryerson and Dennison. “I can appreciate why.”

  The knot in Piper’s chest tightened when both Dennison and Ryerson made a dismissive noise. It was her mentor who spoke up first. “We do not wait on the leisure of the King’s Sentry. If the sergeant wanted to be present, then he should have waited for our arrival before buggering off God knows where.”

  “The last time I checked the statute, the King’s Sentry was still in charge of murder investigations.” Samuel pushed his way past Doctor Harris, stopping half a foot from where Piper knelt. “And for the record, I’ve never been much of one for buggery.” He nodded his head, smiling softly. “Miss Smith. Thank you for waiting.”

  “Of course.” She clamped down on the urge to grin and give him a thumbs-up.

  “Reynolds, get those people behind the barrier!” Samuel surveyed the scene a moment longer. “And I want two runners here once the extraction is done.”

  Samuel pressed several buttons on his wrist strap. She’d noticed the small machine on his arm when they’d been speaking in the Tower. She could only imagine what he used it for.

  “I made you something.” There was something in the way Samuel spoke that sent a shiver of anticipation through her.

  “What?” Samuel had started making her small trinkets shortly after she’d arrived at the Archives. Each gift grew more complex in its intricacy.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Piper did so and held out her hands in anticipation. The metal was cool against her skin, but the device was light. “Can I open them?”

  “Not yet.” He pressed something on the device and, for a moment, nothing happened. Then the most wonderful sound reached her.

  Piper gasped and held the small box up. “It’s a music box.”

  “I told you I’d make you something beautiful one day.”

  Careful not to damage her gift, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. “Thank you.”

  “Sergeant.” She licked her lips and noticed how his gaze immediately dropped to watch. He’d been different when they’d been alone in his office. Like he’d been more aware of her body, how she moved. “Are we ready to begin?”

  “Please. The men have pushed the crowd back as far as we are able.” Samuel dropped to his knees to join her. “I’m afraid you’ll still have quite a bit of an audience.”

  “The actress takes her cue and marches upon the stage.” She smiled, ignoring the slanderous calls from a young man in the distance. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Your men should withdraw them further.” Master Ryerson sniffed. “This isn’t a public spectacle.”

  Piper half expected Samuel to snap back an angry response, but instead he cocked his head to the side and stared at Ryerson. “No sir, it’s not. But it is an opportunity for my men to observe the crowd. We have noticed in the past that it is quite common for the murderer to return to the body and observe the police as we try to find our clues. By letting them stay, we can see if we can identify a suspect from their behavior. I’ve set up some monitoring devices for my men so they can see if anyone is acting suspicious. I’ve just sent them the signal that we are beginning.” He tapped the leather strap of his wrist machine.

  “Clever,” Dennison muttered.

  Samuel shifted his gaze to him. “The King’s Sentry isn’t as incompetent as the Archives seem to think. In addition to the men in the crowd, I have men with spyglasses stationed in several nearby buildings with windows high enough to observe the street unnoticed. We’ll note and follow anyone acting out of character. Now, can we let Miss Smith get on with the task at hand, or do you require further explanation and proof that I am competent enough to do my job?”

  As setdowns went, it was minor. But given Samuel’s relationship with the Archives, Piper couldn’t help but feel his point had been made. Samuel was no longer a scared child who could be pushed around and controlled.

  He was no longer theirs.

  “Well, miss, you better start.” Doctor Harris dropped the leather roll to the ground. The clank of metal was muffled by the wrap. “I want to get her back to the Tower before she gets too ripe.”

  Piper had to ignore them all now. Even Samuel’s reassuring presence would be too much of a distraction, one she couldn’t afford to have. Adjusting the goggles on her face, she focused her attention to the woman and the extractor. Carefully, she placed each suction cup to the nerve focal points on the body. The woman’s skin was dry, but she reeked of blood and urine. Unlike Mary, she’d been murdered here, the evidence of which covered the ground around them. Pulling the wires from the box, Piper hooked each one to a cup and flicked the switch. It was time.

  Without removing her goggles, she took the final wire and fed it into the connector at the side of the lens. Everything was connected, the thrum of energy circulating unseen through the circuits, heard if not felt by her. The lights on the control panel flashed, telling her everything was ready, needing only the final component.


  “I’m ready, sir.”

  Master Ryerson hesitated for a moment before he withdrew the memory cathode from the box in his pocket. Without a word, he handed it over, and Piper slipped it carefully into place. Her brain began to itch as though it knew the onslaught was about to occur, and she had to take several deep breaths to fight back the urge to rip the goggles off. She gave herself only a moment before turning the final switch and activating the extractor.

  For the briefest of heartbeats the world felt like as if she’d sucked in a breath and held it. Piper’s chest constricted and she couldn’t force the muscles to work, either to draw in or expel breath. Then in an explosion of sound, light, and emotion everything rushed forward, slamming into her with the force of an airship loose from its moorings in a typhoon.

  There was a man… no, men. There was a group of men standing around, each one casting a cautious eye at her even as they lusted after what she could provide them. She wasn’t supposed to be here, but Annie didn’t really care. They had no right to tell her where she could go and who she could see. She was as much a part of the group as they were, even had the tattoo to prove it. She liked to listen to them talk and they had good wine.

  And who cared if she worked a bit on the side. These blokes had more money than brains and couldn’t possibly understand what it was like to go hungry. She needed the coin to eat, pay for the irons, get her mum the medicines she needed. Is there not any room for a hard workin’ girl in their new little world? How about we duck behind the building and I suck your brain through your cock? No? You’re so nice and big, I bet you’d fuck me so hard I’d be feeling you tomorrow. Wouldn’t I, guv’nor?

  Her breasts ached as large hands cupped her, pinching her nipples and sending a jolt through her core. Why can’t I see your face? Are you ugly? I don’t mind, you know. I’ve had all sorts.

  My tattoo? Oh yeah, I can’t talk about it.

  Annie pulled up her skirts and sighed as his rough hands slid up the inside of her thighs. Yeah, touch my clitty and make me come. I want you to fuck me hard. Face the wall? Naw, how about I press my back to it. Big strong man like you could hold me up as you take me. She shuddered at the press of cock to her pussy. She was too smart to turn her back on a customer, no matter how nice he seemed.

  Piper couldn’t blink as the scene before her changed. Annie stood in the parlor of a house with which she was unfamiliar. She was still so new to this and didn’t know what the men expected from her.

  A flash. A change. Another alley and a different man. No faces, they never wanted her to see their faces.

  “Can’t have my wife seeing me in someone else’s thoughts,” they’d say. “Damn memory freaks will ruin my reputation.” They never came out and said Annie was likely to die long before her john ever did. Didn’t have to. Everyone knew it was dangerous for a girl on the streets.

  Annie, creeping back up the stairs to her home, coins and cheap wine hidden deep in her pockets. She wasn’t supposed to drink, but they wouldn’t begrudge her a quick tipple. The Children of Osiris had rules, but they were her friends. They treated her with a respect that her customers never did and talked to her as if she had a mind of her own. She was as smart as them other girls.

  Annie was one of them now, and someday, when she died, her spirit would go off. Fly, fly away to be born into another body. Maybe she’d find some happiness then.

  Another man, different alley. He was so big and strong, he made her feel so feminine. Pretty. She loved the way he moaned against her throat, nipping hard on her neck as he thrust into her. But the pleasure jolted into fear as he slid his hand from her breast to her throat. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t force the air past the forced constriction of her throat and into her lungs.

  No. No! Stop, please, God, I don’t want to die.

  Panic and terror had her striking out, tearing at him, slashing at whatever she could get close to. Skin, clothing, hair. Her nails catching, slick from his blood. She had to fight, get away and warn the others. He’d kill them, too.

  He had a knife.

  God, no!

  Mum would be so upset. She’d told Annie that getting involved with those men had been no good. She wasn’t going to stop no one from taking people’s souls. Those creepy freaks with the eyes would find a way to set things back to the way they wanted it. You’d have to be mad to think you could fight the zombies.

  “Annie, you can’t be goin’ off with them fools. Yer only going to get yourself killed. Are dem friends going to come down into the gutter to drag you out when things go sour? They don’t give a frig about the likes of you, no matter how many favors you do them in the dark.”

  Mummy?

  “Please don’t go.”

  It hurts so much. I’m so scared and I don’t want to do this anymore. Why is it so cold?

  Mum?

  Piper sucked in a lung full of air and let out a scream. Pain, fear, and bone-chilling loneliness ripped at her insides as Annie’s final moments melded with images from her childhood and back-alley encounters with random men. Slowly the myriad images slowed from a torrent to a trickle, until the dregs filtered from Annie, through Piper, and into the cathode.

  Then she was gone.

  Piper wasn’t immediately aware of the arms wrapped around her body, or that someone had removed the goggles from her face. Everything was still there, in crystal perfect images. Annie had been dealt a cruel hand in her life. A father who’d whored her out to his friends and a mother too drunk to do much beyond terrifying her with promises of doom.

  But the Children of Osiris had given her hope. They could give her the love and protection her family wouldn’t. She’d make sure the archivists wouldn’t take her soul and shove it into a little tube. She’d be free to die and be born into another life, one that would be far less painful than this.

  “Pip?” A hand stroked her hair. “Can you look at me?”

  No one had looked at Annie and noticed the scared little girl had simply grown but not matured. She was still scared, still little on the inside and only wanting someone to love her. Not marriage or a family, those were dreams beyond her ken. Just simple kindness and love.

  It shouldn’t have been too much to ask from life.

  “Pip? Please look at me, sweetheart.”

  There was something compelling about the voice, something that made Piper respond. Her head was heavy and she was thankful for the support of the strong body she rested against. How had that happened? Looking up, she realized the person holding her was familiar. There was concern in his expression as he ran a thumb across her cheek.

  She knew him. Didn’t she?

  “Pip?” For a moment she thought he would lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. He might have if not for the group of men hovering beyond his shoulder.

  Sam. It was Samuel who held her. The smell of his scented soap chased away the memories, letting her mind settle into a shaky calm. Annie was dead, not her. She was Piper Smith, archivist. And he was Sam, the man she loved.

  “It is done?” Her throat was sore, the words coming out painfully. “Did we get her?”

  “Yes, Pip. You got her.”

  She wanted to nod, but it was too much effort. “She would hate knowing she’s been extracted. She’d wanted to be reborn, you know.” Fly, fly away.

  “Reborn?”

  “Miss Smith, you must stop speaking,” Ryerson’s voice was hard.

  Samuel held her closer. “What do you mean, ‘reborn’?”

  “The Children of Osiris. They don’t want to be extracted. They want to let their spirits be free to go and come back into a better life.” Annie had been so certain, so absolutely convinced that this was the best thing, the right thing for her life. Piper’s guilt for denying her the chance made her nauseous. “She hated her life so much. The chance at something better sounded so wonderful to her. Maybe she could be something else. A dancer or an artist. She would have liked to have been an artist. Paint naked bodies.”

 
“Miss Smith—”

  Piper closed her eyes against the sudden onslaught of tears. “Poor girl.”

  “Is that the cult? Children of Osiris? They all have the tattoo?”

  She leaned into the warm body that held her. Samuel rubbed her skin with his thumb, setting her body on fire. Annie had loved being touched. Stroked. So few men took the time to caress her, normally wanting to get off as quickly as possible and be done with her. The rare gentle touch had always been cherished by Annie. Piper could appreciate why. No man had ever caressed her, made her soul sing with pleasure. Until now she’d had no idea she was doing without it. Despite the hell of her day-to-day existence, at least Annie had lived.

  Piper was beginning to realize her life was little more than a shell.

  Images overlapped, making Piper see double. She sucked in a breath, hoping the extra air would help settle her racing mind. “The killer didn’t set her running at first.” Her head throbbed. Beside Samuel, Annie appeared and smiled down at her, before disappearing in a blink.

  “His face? The killer?” Dennison dropped down beside her. Samuel’s grip tightened, even as she leaned further against him.

  Piper nodded. “He wouldn’t let her see his face, but it didn’t matter. She knew him.”

  Piper found exhaustion tugging at her, making it difficult to move. The pressure in her head lessened when Samuel adjusted her yet again, helping her to sit a little straighter. “You need to get moving.”

  “She needs to return to the Archives and make her report.” Ryerson pushed past Dennison and jerked Piper to her feet. “She needs to have these thoughts purged from her mind before they overwhelm her senses completely.”

  Looking at Ryerson, Piper could tell there was more than simple commitment to duty driving his demands. He was worried about her, wearing the same expression Annie’s mother had when she went out into the night to find clients. The deep lines at his eyes pulled tight, accented by his pursed lips.