You Only Love Twice (London Steampunk: The Blue Blood Conspiracy Book 3)

by Bec McMaster

  "That's not reassuring!"

  He caught a glimpse of the dhampir woman ahead of them, dumping the unconscious duke into the open hatch of one of the kraken submersibles in the docking bay.

  It was the perfect way to get in and out of London without being seen. The flooded tunnel led directly into the Thames, and from there it was but a brief journey out to sea.

  Dido saw them coming and lifted a pistol from her belt.

  Obsidian barely had time to note the flare of white recoil before he drove Gemma into the wall. A dart hissed past them.

  "What are you doing?" Gemma yelled. "She's going to escape!"

  "Dido carries darts laced with Black Vein. If one of them hits us we're dead. She has no need to keep either of us alive."

  Another dart buried itself in the wall near his head. Obsidian shoved Gemma's head low and they ran toward the docking bay. There were two submersibles waiting in the bays. Above them a thick glass dome kept the crushing weight of thousands of tons of black water off them.

  Dido tugged something from the bag at her belt, and dropped it inside the open hatch of the only other submersible. Then she stepped inside the kraken's belly, reaching up to lower the steel hatch behind her. It clanked shut with a steely rasp as Obsidian leaped on top of it.

  He tried to twist the wheel, but it was locked from inside. The submersible suddenly began to tremble beneath his feet, its enormous engines roaring to life.

  Foam churned as the kraken's tentacle propellers began whirring behind it.

  "Dmitri!" Gemma yelled.

  Water bubbled up around his boots as the kraken began to submerge. It hit his knees, and he was forced to leap back onto the dock, where Gemma paced.

  "Damn it. Where will she go?"

  "We just destroyed their London base. She only has one place to go."

  Russia.

  "Can we take the other submersible?"

  He started toward it, just as an enormous fireball suddenly bloomed within the belly of the beast. The impact launched him off his feet and slammed him into a nearby wall.

  When he came to, thick black smoke roiled through the docking bay and flames licked at the timber deck. Gemma knelt beside him, her fingers pressed to his pulse.

  "Thank God," she whispered, when his eyes blinked up at her. Slipping an arm under his shoulder, she helped him to his feet. "There goes that plan."

  Obsidian looked up. Cracks snaked through the glass above them. Steel shuddered and groaned behind them. Herbert had promised he could bring the Core down if they gave him enough time.

  "Gemma." He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Gemma, we have to get out of here. This entire building is about to collapse."

  "What about Malloryn?"

  The look on her face almost gutted him. "He's gone, Gemma. Dido's taken him with her."

  "No!" Gemma shoved away from him, striding toward the ruin of the kraken submersible. She stared at it intently, as if pure determination could resurrect its steel carcass from where it sank into the depths. "I am not going to let that bitch get out of here with him!"

  An explosion rocketed through the building nearby, flame spewing along the hallway. Obsidian threw himself into her, carrying her to the ground as fire gushed over the top of them.

  "We don't have a choice!" he yelled. "We can't rescue him if we're both dead."

  Water began hissing through a crack in the wall, spraying across them. Obsidian looked up into the welling darkness above them.

  "We're going to have to swim," he yelled, tearing one of the motorized propulsion packs from the wall and slipping it over his shoulders. They'd been hung there for years for precisely this situation. He'd never expected to have to need one of them.

  Gemma paled.

  And he suddenly remembered her fear of drowning.

  "I'll stay with you," he said, slipping the second pack onto her back and strapping it into place. "I promise. We have to escape, Gem, and there's no other way."

  "I can do this," she whispered.

  "I won't let you go."

  Another gush of water suddenly sprang through the wall supports. The groan of the glass above them sounded like some sort of hungry beast. Grabbing the small mouthpiece that was attached to the oxygen canister on the propulsion pack, he settled it over Gemma's mouth, and lashed them together with a small tether.

  "There's enough oxygen in there to last three minutes. Are you ready?"

  He strapped his mouthpiece into place as Gemma nodded, and held up three fingers, folding them down one at a time.

  Three. Two. One.

  They both leapt down into the water where Dido had vanished. Kicking hard, he hauled her into the narrow tunnel that led out to sea. The entire world around them was black. Charlie had clearly managed to take out the power grid, so not a single gaslight illuminated the darkness. He was swimming blind.

  Flipping the switch on his propulsion pack, he felt the engine kick. None too soon. The world shuddered around them and a wave of water suddenly propelled them forward. He felt Gemma smash into him, and they were buffeted along. The glass dome must have shattered, spilling all its water into the docking bay.

  Ears popping with pressure, he tried to hold them steady. The tether between them stretched and pulled, and the mouthpiece was torn from his lips.

  A stream of bubbles escaped him.

  No air. Bloody hell.

  Obsidian's lungs were burning. He had no idea how much further it was, or what condition Gemma was in. All he could do was hope.

  Then a light appeared ahead of them.

  Daylight.

  His ears were ringing as they surged toward it. His lungs began heaving, desperately demanding air.

  They were nearly there. A few seconds more....

  Both of them surfaced in the Thames with a cough and a gasp. Obsidian sucked in vast lungfuls of sweet oxygen as someone grabbed him by the propulsion pack and turned him around.

  "Are you all right?" Gemma called.

  Obsidian barely had the strength left to answer her.

  The overcast sky seemed so shockingly bright after the darkness. Even as it burned his skin, he'd never seen anything better.

  The hollow taste of victory soured Gemma’s mouth as COR regathered at the safe house. Everyone else was accounted for, the mission an alleged success, except for one small fact. There’d been no sign of Dido—or Malloryn—as they escaped the burning docking bay. From the flooded underground tunnel, it was a short journey to the Thames, and from there…

  Anywhere.

  "What do we do about Malloryn?" Gemma whispered, trembling with the cold as Obsidian draped a blanket over her shoulders.

  "We don't know where Dido has taken him." Byrnes pinched the bridge of his nose. "We don't even know if he's still alive."

  "He's still alive." Obsidian stirred, tugging at the buckles on his damp body armor and trying to pry the hard carapace off his chest. "Dido won't kill him. She wouldn't dare. This was always meant to end with Malloryn watching his world burn. And I know where they're going. It's the only place Dido can retreat, with everything having gone horribly wrong."

  "Where?" Byrnes demanded.

  Gemma squeezed her eyes shut. Obsidian had said it. There was only one place they could go.

  "Russia," Obsidian replied. "Saint Petersburg. Dido is taking Malloryn to Balfour."

  Ingrid clapped a hand to her lips. "No."

  Kincaid thumped a hand on her shoulder. "We'll get him back, Ingrid."

  "How?" Ingrid snapped, her eyes flashing with verwulfen bronze as her emotions heated.

  The three of them started arguing about the court as Gemma pinched the bridge of her nose. She just needed a moment to think. Time.

  Or better yet, Malloryn.

  He always had a solution to every problem, and his confidence cut through even the most nervous of dispositions. Vampires rioting through London? Well, go out there and cut them down, by golly. A secret organization of blue bloods trying to poison the Echelon'
s entire blood supply? Pack your ammunition and haul ass. We're going to stop them.

  But now he was gone, and she had no idea what to do.

  Herbert pushed into the study carrying a tray with the tea setting Gemma was so familiar with. Behind him, an 1880 service automaton followed like a duckling scuttling behind its mother, steam hissing through its vents.

  "Thought we could all use some refreshment," Herbert said, once more wearing the polite façade of COR’s butler, though soot still stained his collar, and his black apron no doubt hide a variety of likeminded sins.

  "Unless it's a bottle of brandy, I don't think any of us is going to find it quite refreshing enough," Byrnes grumbled.

  "You haven't tried my tea then, Master Byrnes."

  Gemma stared at the map on Malloryn's desk, the familiar scent of his office wrapping around her as Herbert fussed over them.

  Isabella was gone.

  Now Malloryn.

  There was no one left to lead them.

  She couldn't help thinking Balfour had won this game. Not just won it, but swept them off the map.

  Yes, they might have depleted the dhampir forces ranged against them. They'd won over Obsidian's loyalty. Stopped the queen's assassination. And yes, they might have blown up a warehouse and the Core, ending the dhampir operations in London, but Balfour had been playing the endgame. Every little step they'd taken, he'd been three in front of them.

  Without Malloryn, they were just a handful of spies, weren't they?

  "What the hell do we do now?" Charlie asked in a quiet voice. "We can't just leave him there."

  "It's the Crimson Court," Byrnes said. "Nobody gets out of there alive unless they were invited in in the first place, and I like my head right where it is, thank you very much."

  "So we just pretend it didn't happen?" Even Kincaid sounded affronted, and he'd had more reason to hate Malloryn over the years than anyone.

  "No." Gemma's voice dropped into the silence like a bomb. "Malloryn's a Rogue, and we don't leave each other behind. No matter what we face."

  Attentive faces turned to her, and she suffered a moment of doubt. Could she do this? Could she be the one who welded them together in the face of their greatest challenge?

  You can do this. Malloryn might have been the brains of the operation, but she had always been the heart and soul of it, his link to the rest of these people.

  But there was doubt on every face in the room. Byrnes glanced toward Ingrid, and she knew he saw his wife in danger. Ava's knees went out from under her as she slumped into her chair hopelessly.

  "Balfour has had years to build up his alliances there," Byrnes pointed out. "We don't even know what we're walking into."

  "Gemma and I know the court," Obsidian said, circling the map. "Our fates were forged there. And I... know of people in the heart of the court who might be sympathetic. There's a possibility I could get in touch with Silas. His allegiances toward the brotherhood aren't watertight. Not anymore." His voice roughened. "And he owes me one."

  Heads turned toward him, and Gemma felt a burst of relief when she realized there was someone else to be her rock now.

  "That gives us an inside man," Gemma said.

  "Perhaps."

  Their eyes met.

  Pacing back and forth, she pressed a hand to her temples. "What do you know of Balfour’s operations there?"

  "He married into one of the royal bloodlines; a Grand Duchess by the name of Tatiana Feodorevna. They maintain separate houses, and she’s much younger than he is. The marriage is a political alliance only, and there are rumors his wife prefers the company of women, but it affords him a certain type of power. He’s not of the Blood, but he’s made himself quite useful to several powerful Blood princes."

  "Feodorevna? First tier?" she whispered.

  "First tier."

  The purest of the Blood, related to the Tzarina, and with a direct claim upon the empire’s throne should the Tzarina finally greet the long dawn. Of course Balfour would ingratiate himself there. Now, not only was he armed with several ruthless dhampir agents, but he would have dozens of political allies, power, money, influence…. How the hell were they going to be able to touch him?

  How could they rescue Malloryn?

  "We’re not actually thinking about infiltrating the Blood court, are we? I'm trying to be the voice of reason here. And this plan sounds positively insane." Byrnes scowled, and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  "I seem to recall Malloryn distracting Zero when she tried to rip your throat out," Charlie pointed out. "He didn't flinch."

  "It's not me I'm worried about," Byrnes shot back.

  "We've faced vampires, Black Vein, the neural implant, and dhampir." Ingrid leveled a steady look upon him. "If you think I'm frightened of the Blood, then you can think again."

  "He pulled me out of a burning building," Kincaid said quietly. "Saved my life."

  "And he was there to rescue me when that dhampir assassin injected me with Black Vein," Ava whispered.

  Ingrid simply looked at him. "Caleb."

  Byrnes scowled. "Fine. I'm going to enjoy the look on his bloody face when Malloryn sees us. I'm going to remind him he's in our debt every time he gets that constipated look on his face. This will give me years of ammunition against him. This trumps every debt we've ever owed him. Dukes don't crawl? Ha. I'm going to insist upon him kissing my boots."

  "I'd like to see that," Kincaid said, pushing to his feet. "How do we do this, Gem? You're in charge."

  She met Obsidian's eyes. The tide of the room was shifting. Relief flushed through her. He smiled a little dangerously. Her dark angel.

  "Russia is dangerous. But we have a trump card up our sleeve." Gemma straightened, meeting every single eye in the room. "They will never expect us to come for him. Balfour's men know fear, not loyalty. Not love. They don't fight for him or each other. They’ve been double-crossing each other at every turn, and now we have an insider who can assist us. I won’t pretend this will not be a difficult, well-nigh impossible task but we have to try. Who's with me? Who's coming to Russia?"

  Every hand in the room rose.

  "Can I bring Molly, miss?" Herbert asked.

  "You can definitely bring Molly. I would like to ram that rocket-launcher right down Balfour's throat."

  And Gemma started planning.

  "Before I forget," Charlie called, as Obsidian went to run Gemma a bath. "I’ve got something for you."

  Obsidian paused on the stairs. Charlie ran up them as if hadn’t just fought a cataclysmic battle, faced a nightmare, and somehow survived.

  He handed over a thick file stuffed full of bloodied pages.

  "Sorry." Charlie grimaced, trying to wipe some of the blood off. "Your friend, X, came upon us just as we discovered the files. Got a bit mucky for a while. I think most of it is the good doctor’s."

  His name was on the front. Obsidian frowned. "What is it?"

  "All of Dr. Richter’s notes about you. Thought you might like to read it. I think there’s some mention of where you came from."

  His heart skipped a beat as he slowly looked up.

  "We didn’t look through it," Charlie assured him. "Just enough to ascertain it might be important to you. There’s a family tree in the front I think you’ll find interesting."

  Fingers trembling, Obsidian slowly opened the file. The occasional memory was coming back to him—mostly odd irrelevant flashes that meant little—but nothing solid. He’d long given up on the idea of ever piecing together his past, though the ache of it bothered him.

  The second he saw the golden crest at the top, he froze. He recognized that seal, and the family it belonged to.

  Grigoriev.

  The heat drained out of his face. Dmitri, Nikolai, Yekaterina, Irina and Evgeni. The names stirred something within him. He could see a pair of young children scampering through snowdrifts, their cheeks rosy as they laughed and hurled snowballs at each other.

  If this was real, then….
r />   Sergey Grigoriev was his cousin.

  The same Sergey who’d allegedly murdered the entire Grigoriev family years ago in a bid to take their power.

  The Sergey that Balfour had tasked him to guard.

  What did it all mean? How had it happened? Was he truly Dmitri Grigoriev, the eldest son of the former Prince of Tsaritsyn? Who had Marina been?

  How had he ended up in London?

  How much had Balfour and Dr. Richter taken from him?

  "Thank you," he said, slowly. The world reeled around him.

  Charlie clapped a hand on his shoulder, gave a wink, and then headed up the stairs. "You’re one of us now, Obsidian. Rogues have got to look out for each other."

  Gemma was right. The young man truly was a treasure.

  He stared down at the file as Charlie disappeared. A damned shame the doctor’s throat had been torn out.

  Now there was only one man still alive who might know the truth.

  It was a good thing he was already planning on heading to Russia.

  He was long overdue a certain chat with Lord Balfour.

  ###

  READ ON for an exciting preview of what’s to come when the Company of Rogues travel to Russia to rescue one of their own…. To Catch A Rogue is coming in October, 2018.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review to help others find it. It doesn’t have to be very long and I would be very grateful.

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