Ginny, stricken, buttoned her lip.
Brendan spoke. “I told Rose if she holds on I’ll bring someone to mend Pat. Where is he?”
Topaz, eyes wide with distress, said, “Still here. They’ve been working on him in the back storeroom.”
“I want to see him.”
“You don’t, Sergeant Fagan. Believe me, you don’t. There’s nothing there.”
“How bad’s the damage?”
“Bad.”
Brendan flexed his shoulders. “I can think of one man, and only one, who can mend him.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“There’s only one thing to be done. I have to break Mason out of the asylum.”
Ginny exchanged glances with the two other women standing huddled with her and Brendan near the Kellys’ front door. Mrs. Gideon returned her incredulous look before Mrs. Greely made the first objection.
“But that’s illegal, and you are a police officer.”
“I was a police officer. If I pull this off, I expect it’ll put a finish to things.” Brendan frowned, and Ginny caught his eye for an instant. They’d worried about whether their association would damage his career chances. Now he was ready to toss it all away…for the sake of compassion.
She experienced a twinge in the region of her heart. Or maybe it wasn’t a twinge but something letting go—the last bastion she’d held against capitulating to this man.
“But Mason’s a lunatic.” Topaz Gideon made the next, measured objection. “What makes you think he’ll cooperate?”
“I’m thinking a squad of his own automatons bent on a single purpose might just persuade him.”
“The same ones that nearly killed him, you mean.”
“Absent of Pat Kelly.” Brendan shot a look at the door of the inner room. “I have to do this for her, Mrs. Gideon. And for him.”
Topaz Gideon seemed to reach a decision. “You have my support.”
But Ginny hadn’t yet expressed her objection. “That place—we were just there asking for permission to see Mason,” she explained to the other women. “It’s so secure. How will you get in and out of there?”
“Not sure,” Brendan admitted.
Mrs. Gideon asked, “The authorities there can’t be persuaded to give us access to Mason? We could send someone in to consult with him.”
“I would gladly go,” said Mrs. Greely.
“The gentleman we saw refused categorically. Accused me of being an automaton sympathizer.”
“Ignorant reactionary,” Mrs. Gideon denounced. “He’s leaving us few options. Sergeant Fagan, I don’t want to see you ruin your career.”
“At this point, I don’t much care.”
“But you’re injured.” Ginny, feeling more and more desperate, attempted reason once again. “Your arm—”
“Irrelevant,” he snapped.
Ginny ground her teeth. If he was bent on sacrificing himself, she wouldn’t be able to dissuade him. And while it was one thing for her to take chances with her own safety, something she did routinely, she found she liked it far less in the man she…
Mrs. Gideon snapped her fingers, keeping Ginny from completing that thought.
“Here’s an idea. I’ll see if I can get my husband involved. He’s in Canada at the moment, on state business, but he’s due back later this afternoon. I’ll talk to him, yes?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Gideon. What good will that do?” Brendan asked.
She lowered her voice still further. “He’s a former agent of Queen Victoria, well versed in covert operations and used to chasing monsters. I’d say he’s just the man you need.”
****
“You know you’ll unquestionably be scuttling your career.”
Brendan looked up when Ginny spoke. They’d returned to the parlor of her house at Linwood Avenue to await word from Topaz Gideon. It hadn’t taken long for Ginny to ramp up and face him, her beautiful, dark eyes intent and flags of color flying in her cheeks.
Oh, hell. He dragged air into his aching body and replied, “Some things are more important than my career.”
“This from the man who stood in this very room and told me his career meant more than our relationship.”
“What relationship? You insisted you couldn’t wait to put this city behind you and would be gone by the end of the week.”
“I’m still here, though, aren’t I?” She touched his cheek. “Still with you.”
“Listen, Ginny, I’m not in the mood to discuss this. I’m tired, worried, and I don’t quite know how I’m going to make good on what I promised Rose back there.”
“Sit down.” She planted a hand in the center of his chest and pushed him gently into the nearest chair. “Put up your feet.” She pushed an ottoman into place and lifted his boots onto it one after the other. “Do you want a drink?”
“Better not. Need to keep a clear head.” Mrs. Gideon had vowed to send word as soon as she spoke with her husband.
An agent—former agent—of the British Crown, eh? An Englishman, of all things, joining forces with a bunch of Irishmen. Should prove interesting.
Ginny sank down in a puff of skirts at the side of his chair. He could see the worry in her gaze as it touched and measured him. “You don’t even know where in the asylum this man, Mason, is being housed. There will be attendants, people to keep the patients from straying.”
“Aye.”
She brushed his good hand with her fingers, smoothing across the palm. “Brendan, all this business with Pat and Rose has made me think what it would do to me to lose someone I…needed very badly.”
“That made him look at her, really look. “Are you after saying you…need me?”
“I guess I am.” She swallowed, her eyes holding his. “Not easy for me to admit, I’ll have you know. After my last experience”— She broke off, and the color came and went in her face once more. “I vowed I’d never again allow myself to be so vulnerable.”
“Aye, you did mention it. Thus your penchant for ugly men.”
“Yes. I find ugly men, by and large, more honest. What you see is what you get, with them. There are no layers of charm and deception, no games or lies.”
“I see.” Brendan wondered who he’d been, this handsome devil who still haunted their relationship. Each time they made love, he got curious about the other men with whom she’d shared herself and whether she’d done so as generously as she did with him. He’d wanted to ask, but it seemed too possessive, and he knew instinctively Ginny Landry wouldn’t react well to a man coming over all possessive.
Now he wondered if she also believed him a liar and a user just because he had a face women might favor.
“Everyone warned me about him—my father and my friends. Even my stepmother, who rarely interferes with me. Did I listen? I thought we’d been destined to meet. I thought it was forever. It lasted till he got bored with me and another woman caught his eye.”
Softly he asked, “And do you think I’m like him? I’m stable; I’m invested in this city. I’m not going anyplace.”
“Yes, well…” She questioned him with her eyes. “That’s another problem, isn’t it? You’re not going anywhere. Your life is here. And no, you’re nothing like the charming Hank.”
“Hank, is it? Thank you very much.”
“I can’t say you’re not charming—you must know you are. But you’re also strong, serious, and dedicated. Honest. A good man.”
“Well, so.” He lifted a brow. “And how is that a problem?”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for serious, Brendan, or ready to stay put. I thought you were going to be just another fling. But now, well, I know how I felt when I saw you injured. And I find I very much dislike the prospect of you going off to try and break into that awful place in search of the madman who once almost killed you. I’m so afraid something terrible will happen to you, I can scarcely think straight.”
She bent her head and pressed it against his shoulder. Brendan’s heart, weary and uncertain a
t this point, promptly melted. He caressed her dark hair—soft as silk—with the fingers of his good hand, absorbed the scent and feel of her, warm and vital.
Oh, aye, he understood what she felt—she’d meant to keep things casual between them. Now she suddenly found they no longer were so casual. He, several steps ahead of her, had begun worrying about this days ago.
Yet, as she pointed out, she was still here.
“Listen to me, Ginny—bonny lass.” He curled his fingers around her jaw and lifted her face gently. “You needn’t fear for me. I’ll be in the presence of an English agent and several deadly automatons.”
“But you’re afraid of him—I know you are.”
There was that. The very idea of facing Mason in the flesh made his balls try to climb up into his belly. But a man had to do a lot of things that frightened him, especially in this job.
If he still had a job after tonight.
“Not something I’d choose to do, certainly. But if he can resurrect Pat…”
“But what if he can’t? He’s mad, after all. Or what if you get him out of there and he refuses to cooperate? What if he turns on you?”
“You’re not after doing a lot for my confidence.”
“Brendan, I’m scared for you.”
“Here, come here.”
He gathered her up from her knees and drew her into his lap, close against his chest. The contact made his broken ribs hurt for an instant before she tucked her dark head into the crook of his neck, her lips only inches from his, and he began to feel a lot better.
“Ginny, darlin’, we never know what the future holds. Life as a policeman is risky even at the best of times.” It made one reason why he’d determined never to marry. In his experience, it made a bad proposition.
How did that fit with his impulse to spend forever with this woman in his arms?
She murmured into his neck, “On the frontier, too. With my father being a doctor, I’ve seen it all. He always says that in Dakota there are a thousand ways for men to die. But Brendan, none of those men…none of them is you.”
“And I matter that much to you, do I?” He couldn’t have held back the question to save his life.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You matter very, very much.” Each utterance of the word “very” came accompanied by a kiss to his jaw. She reached up, touched his cheek, and turned his face so their mouths met instead.
And what did he taste in her kiss? Her fear for him, aye, closely followed by the heat that came to them so easily. Was there more? Could he sense a measure of devotion? Love?
That word possessed his mind as he explored her mouth luxuriantly with his tongue.
God, he loved the flavor of her, loved her strength and that streak of wild independence. No man would ever completely tame this woman, nor bend her. She would only stay with a man because she wanted to. And what a blinding privilege to be that man.
“Brendan, Brendan.” She ended the kiss at last and laid her hand against his cheek. “I’ve only one thing to say to you. You’d better come out of this in one piece, understand? You’d better come back to me. I’ll never forgive you if you don’t.”
Chapter Thirty
“My wife seems to think this is a good idea,” said Rom Gideon with the wry humor Brendan had begun to learn marked him. “No sooner did I land at the foot of Ferry Street than she was there telling me I needed to launch a covert mission—into an asylum, of all places.”
His blue eyes glinted ruefully. He’d turned up at Ginny’s door dressed all in black, with three similarly-clad members of the Irish Squad at his back, and thrust a bundle of clothes at Brendan.
“Now, my wife is a remarkable woman. A singular woman.” Gideon’s light voice and clipped English accent lent the words a certain understated emphasis. “But an asylum, of all places…”
Brendan looked him askance. He must have met Rom Gideon at some point in the past but couldn’t remember sharing conversation with him.
Gideon told him, “I have an unfortunate history with those sorts of places.”
“I’m not crazy about the idea either,” Brendan confessed. “But for Pat’s sake, I’m willing.”
“Yes, Pat. And Rose.” Gideon’s face immediately sobered. “Two of my favorite people. Would you say our target—Mason—is dangerous?”
“He was. Nearly killed me and Liam McMahon. That’s the night I first met Pat Kelly, truth be told. What’s this?” He juggled the clothing clutched against his chest.
“We’re going in under cover. You sure you’re up to this?” Gideon eyed Brendan. “You look a bit battered.”
“Arm’s broken. I won’t be swarming up any ropes.”
“Hmm. May be a problem.” Gideon switched his gaze to Ginny, who stood beside Brendan, silent for once, and back again. “You do realize this will likely cost you your job if it gets out.”
“Aye.” Brendan swallowed. “Do you think it will get out?”
Gideon shrugged. “It is best, as I’ve learned, to prepare for the worst. It’s a mad scheme, though I did manage to score this.”
He drew a paper from his vest pocket and spread it out on a side table.
“What’s that, then?”
“A plan of the wondrous asylum.”
Brendan’s eyes widened. “How did you get your hands on that?”
“I have connections. A friend supplied it. You can see here these are open areas, minimum security. Our target won’t be there.”
“No.”
Gideon stabbed the paper with one finger. “This section here is for patients who…well, rarely see the light of day. There appear to be six rooms. That ups our odds.”
Brendan glanced at the silent members of the Irish Squad. “Don’t you think we need more men?”
“I don’t. This is a covert undertaking; numbers are counterproductive.”
Brendan’s eyebrows soared.
“Now, we’ve no time to waste. We need to have this done before the sun comes up.”
Have it done. The Englishman possessed confidence.
Brendan drew a breath. “I’ll go change. Ginny, I may need your assistance if we’re to be ready quickly.”
Gideon made no objection as Ginny followed Brendan from the parlor and up to her room. There she began unfastening his clothing with unsteady fingers.
“I wish you didn’t have a broken arm and three fractured ribs.”
Four, but he didn’t correct her. “So do I. Something tells me Gideon will be hard to keep up with. On the other hand, I do believe with him on our side we have a chance of getting Mason out of there.”
She paused in the act of hauling off his shirt. “Do you realize you shudder every time you say his name?”
“Never mind that. Help me into these trousers. They’re a tight fit.”
“I imagine he doesn’t want your clothing snagging on anything.” Several moments strenuous struggle ended with Ginny in his arms.
“Promise me you’ll be all right.”
“I don’t like making promises I’m not sure I can keep.”
“Like you did to Rose?”
“I’m keeping that one.”
“Then kiss me for luck.”
He provided the kiss with alacrity.
“Not just one kiss,” she informed him then. “Real luck requires three.”
****
If the asylum on Forest Avenue looked imposing in daylight, the sight of it in darkness proved enough to lift the hairs at the back of Brendan’s neck. They’d made their way here on foot, slipping through the shadows and doing their best to keep their footsteps from echoing. Brendan and Rom Gideon went together, with the three automatons some distance behind so as not to draw attention.
They paused under a tree and looked up at the stone-and-brick structure. Brendan heard Gideon draw a breath and glanced at him sideways.
“Just what’s your history with asylums?” he asked belatedly.
“Nothing much, save that I was held prisoner in
one—not here. Tortured.”
“Jaysus.”
“It wasn’t a pleasant experience.” Gideon had got hold of his emotions; the dry humor once more colored his voice.
“I remember hearing about that. It was when the Hathor mansion burned down.”
“Yes. We hushed up as many details as we could.”
“Things like that tend to get out.” Brendan looked at Gideon with new respect. “You were responsible for the demise of Danson Clifford. Your wife is right; you are accustomed to taking on monsters.”
“Clifford died there in the mansion the night of the fire. It wasn’t all down to me. Now I think, given the state of your arm, you should wait outside and let the rest of us go in.” Gideon nodded at the three automations who had just joined them with no more than a stray puff of steam.
“But I—”
Gideon shook his head. “We’re going to have to climb up. I’m sure my companions will recognize the man who created them, right, gentlemen?”
One of the automatons nodded.
“I expect the real difficulty will ensue when we get him out, Sergeant. With every ability at your disposal, you’ll need to persuade him to cooperate with us. A raving madman will do us no good at all.”
Jaysus, Brendan thought, though he didn’t say it aloud this time. “All right.”
“Wait back here.” They moved in a silent body to the rear of the main building. “If you see anything to let you know they’ve twigged us—lights going on all over the place or guards suddenly dashing about—blow this.” Gideon thrust a small, cool object into Brendan’s left hand—a policeman’s whistle. He nodded.
“Very well, gentlemen. Let’s move, and quickly.”
They slipped away from Brendan with such stealth he could barely track them. At first he thought they’d entered the building somehow at one of the rear doors, in the shadows. Then his eye caught the faintest movement at the far corner of the structure; someone scaled the bricks, followed by three other someones like big spiders, one after the other. Their goal appeared to be a third-floor window. Brendan tried to recall the details of the plans spread on Ginny’s table.
Ginny.
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