Alchemist's Kiss (8 page)

He closed the door to the laboratory gently behind him. This was his space. His haven. The acrid smell of various and sundry potions invigorated him. Always his mind was sharper, more focused, when he worked here. Once the door was closed the rest of the world was pushed out.

The bourbon slid down his throat, curing his ills better than any magic the apothecary could muster up. He twirled the amber liquid in the glass and watched it swirl. Like his life it whirled out of control, whizzing ever downward and threatening to slosh from its confines to splash over everything around it. He looked up sharply at a noise from the window. He squinted in the dim light to see the shadow of a large black bird upon the window sill.

“Machiavelli, you devil.” Icarus set down his glass and lifted the window sash, letting in both the bird and the chill of the night.

He held out his hand and the bird stepped onto his forearm, staring at him with its intelligent dark eyes.

“What brings you here at this time of night?” Icarus murmured. He ran his gloved palm over the feathers still wet with condensing fog. The bird leaned into his touch and then shook him off.

“I take it your man was returned to you.”

The voice that issued from the throat of the bird was Lucan Orrin's.

“He was.” Icarus allowed the Grand Master's raven to step off his arm and onto the mantel.

“You sound less than enthused.”

“He was tortured cruelly by men in my father's employ, but he will live. My father sent him back to me as a gesture of good faith.”

“He always was one for dramatics.”

Icarus folded his arms and looked at the bird. Lucan Orrin sat somewhere in the private residence of the Grand Master, watching him through the eyes of his most favored familiar. “His plans are more upsetting than I'd originally believed them to be.”

“Tell me.”

Icarus explained his father's plans and his motivations to the Grand Master as the raven paced the mantel. Every so often the eyes would snap to Icarus and then the head would bow as the Grand Master continued to listen.

“You believe he is in pursuit of a massacre to fuel a blood magic spell?” the Grand Master asked at last.

“I do.”

“What kind of spell would require a sacrifice of this enormity?”

“My father has always lusted after one thing. Power. He wants to strip the barrier away between the world and the aether.”

“Suicide.”

“Not if he possessed enough power,” Icarus argued, pacing. The scar on his palm itched. “Hence the blood he will need to spill to protect himself. We all know that the aether is cushioned from this plane by some kind of protective barrier. No magic has ever pierced it, but that won't stop him. With an unobstructed access to pure aether my father could conceivably control the universe.”

“Several of my wizards were attacked tonight by men carrying orbs that nullified their magics. Is this a weapon your father hopes to obtain?”

Icarus narrowed his eyes. “I don't think so. I, too, have come into contact with such an orb. Though it is powerful, it can be destroyed. My father is looking for something much more powerful, but the man responsible for creating the orbs could be the key. My father would not hesitate to use any means to get what he wants.”

“The mobs are far too confident, and their ability to physically harm my wizards is drawing notice. Find this man of science, Adept Kane. I cannot allow him to continue to create weapons such as these.”

“Indeed.” Icarus held out his arm as the raven ducked its head to him. He took it to the window, and as it stepped onto the windowsill it looked to Icarus again.

“London is in dire straits, Adept Kane. I cannot openly assist you without drawing more anger onto my wizards. Be careful.”

“Thank you, Grand Master.” Icarus bowed to the man who watched him from the raven's eyes. “I would ask one thing, if I may.”

Icarus was certain the glint in the raven's eyes grew suspicious. “Ask.”

“Leave my father to me. When he is destroyed I must be the one to do it.”

The stare of the bird was heavy on Icarus, but he kept his chin up and his gaze steady.

“Very well, Icarus Kane. Your father's fate is yours.”

The bird flew from the window, leaving behind a single midnight feather. Icarus picked it up carefully. The feathers of familiar birds, and especially the familiar of the Grand Master, were powerful items used in many spells. They were also extremely hard to come by, and only given freely. He clasped the feather gently in his hand and pulled down the window sash with a sigh. He stared hard at his reflection in the glass. The man who looked back at him was blonde with a cap of furiously curling hair. The eyes were his, the nose his as well. Even the damnable cleft in the chin that he hated so much was there.

“You've work to do, old son.” he said to his reflection. It repeated the words back to him with a mocking grin. He shook his head at the antics of his magic and turned away from the version of himself that saw any of this as funny. His father was the beast under the bed. The shadow that haunted children at night in dreams of death and blood. His own devil, and his maker. The monster that took an innocent eleven year old boy and made him a killer. A very good killer.

Lessons, Icarus vowed, he would use to finally put his father in the ground where he belonged.

London mornings had a particular charm that I have never encountered any place else. The air was brisk, the sound of the people on the street mingling with the smells of horses and the harsh bite of Underground oil. I leaned against the window sash and stared out at the sun as it rose over the Thames. A breeze lifted a stray curl and tickled my neck. I turned to Archie, who sat up in bed to read the morning news.

“So you kissed Icarus?”

His question gave me some pause. I blinked, trying to formulate an answer.

His smile grew as he folded the paper.  “There are no secrets from the aether, Cora.”

“It told you?”

He laughed, the edge sharp with pain from his battered ribs. He'd regained some color, the white of his shirt now whiter than his skin, thank goodness. I sat on the edge of his bed and smoothed back his hair, glad to see the swelling was better. He'd turn a garish shade of purple and blue soon, but he was alive. He took my hand in his human one and squeezed it.

“What did he say?”

“He started to apologize or to say something equally like him, and I left.”

Archie's smile faded into a frown. “So nothing has changed between you, then.”

“Only that I shall feel more awkward, I'm afraid.” I sighed and shook my head. “Why must it all be so hard, Archie? He knows I love him. He must. But any time we come close to expressing it we lose all our sense!”

“I'm not a man who knows much about the ways of women, but I know Icarus. He's stubborn and selfless to a fault. He feels so much guilt about his past, and the things he did before he chose the lighter path, that he refuses to believe he deserves to be loved.”

“Nonsense.” I bit my lip. It had never occurred to me that Icarus felt unworthy, and therefore sought to push my affections away. I raised my eyes to his. “Isn't it?”

“He doesn't think so. The way we see Icarus Kane is not the way he sees himself. That, Cora dear, is why he does such balmy things.”

I chuckled. “I'm equally at fault, then. I'm just as stubborn and far more used to having my way. But Archie, what do I do?”

“Prove to him that he is worthy.” Archie grinned again. “Fight for him as he fights for us all.”

“When I have him I'm never letting him go.” I warned.

Archie's golden hand was heavy on my shoulder as he patted me. “I'm counting on it, Cora.”

***

Icarus was surprised to see Cora at the table with a full tea service when he stumbled from the laboratory. The morning sunlight streaming through the window and lit her up. She tapped her foot as she arranged the tea, cursing a bit as a drop spilled onto her wine-colored silk.

“Icarus are you hungry?” She spoke without turning. “I've prepared tea and biscuits.”

He was speechless for a moment as she spoke to him as if nothing momentous had transpired just the night before. They had kissed, and he was still reeling from the touch of her lips against his. She, on the other hand, moved about as if this was simply another day. She looked up when he didn't answer, and a smile broke over her lips. His breath caught at the memory of those lips.

“Is something wrong, darling?”

Darling? She never called him that. “I'd enjoy some tea.” he managed.

“Certainly!” She set about pouring as he moved cautiously toward the table. He'd begun to wonder if this was some game, where she poisoned him with her tea and made him horribly ill for playing with her emotions as he had. She took the chair next to him instead of across the table as she usually would.

The scent of her was enough to undo him. Rosewater and powders, a delicate mix that was somehow heady and powerful, too. He forced his fingers to steady as he picked up his cup. The tea was perfectly brewed, the taste a bit sweet, just as he liked.

She bustled about, placing a delicate Parisian biscuit on his plate and licking the powder off her fingertips. He watched the play of her tongue over her skin and realized he'd gone short of breath.

“You're a bit pale, Icarus.” Her palm was soft on his forehead as she measured him for fever.

He had a fever, all right, but it was pure male libido that flushed his cheeks. Her bodice, covered demurely in crimson lace, leaned against his arm.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine.” He gulped back tea as she moved back and picked up her own cup. She narrowed her eyes at him over the rim.

“What are we going to do about your father and his dreadful companions?” she asked. “We cannot allow them to continue wreaking havoc on London, and they must be punished for treating Archie so badly.”

This was something to take Icarus' mind away from the tempting allure of Cora. “I've been instructed by the Grand Master to pursue the scientist who is creating the Dielectric. We've both agreed that my father must be after some way to strip the barrier between us and aether.”

“Ghastly!” She shivered as she picked up a biscuit. “The barrier is there for a reason. Your father is playing at things with consequences he doesn't understand.”

“We're in agreement there.” Icarus found himself amazed once again by Cora's resilient intelligence. She always shook off her fear in favor of solutions to the problem at hand.  He'd seen it in action the day she'd pressed The Hand to Josiah Turnbull's cheek. His Cora was courageous in the way most men were not.

“Archie will rest for the day. Bastion has agreed to come here and watch over him while we seek out this balmy scientist.”

“Cora....”

Icarus could not finish his sentence as her head snapped up, her delicate china rattling as she slammed down the teacup.

“If you think to leave me behind, Icarus Kane, you can quickly reconsider. There's no way in the fieriest of Hells that I'm allowing you to go out into the streets of London alone.”

“I'm quite capable of caring for myself, Cora.” Icarus ignored the flush of heated pleasure at her protective nature.

“I'm certain you are.” She folded her hands primly in her lap and looked into his eyes. “But no man of mine will face dangers such as these alone.”

No man of mine.
The words echoed about in his head for a few moments, bouncing off the sudden, intense pleasure and unmeasured horror they caused. As if she hadn't spoken such a ridiculous phrase, Cora picked up her biscuit and bit into it, patting the crumbs away with her napkin. She chewed and seemed perfectly accepting of the silence. When she was done she reached for the tea pot. “More tea, Icarus dear?”

***

I knew my words had both stunned and horrified Icarus. The evidence was in the fear in his eyes and the flicker of a smile on his lips. I watched him pull on his long duster and reached for my own long coat just as he did the same. Our fingers brushed, the buzz of energy between us palpable. The aether felt it too, congregating around it in a rush. I let him pull the coat from the hook and as he held it out I slipped my arms in. He wrapped it around me and for the few seconds that his arms were around me I was in heaven. He pulled them away all too soon, and handed me the wine-colored velveteen bonnet to match. It was far more sedate than many hats I owned, but its wide brim and gray silk ribbons made it attractive against my pale skin. I tied it on and attached a hat pin, holding it to my hair.

Icarus watched the process with hungry eyes as the lifting of my arms thrust out my bodice and caused a gap in the square necked morning dress. I held back a smile as I chose a gray silk parasol from the stand by the door and pulled on my short gloves.

“I believe I'm ready.”

My words brought Icarus from his trance and he snapped to attention. He opened the door and I smiled to see Bastion waiting patiently in the hallway. The man moved from the wall and greeted Icarus with a handshake and me with a kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you for watching over Archie, Bastion.”

The healer's eyes were faded, his hair going gray at the temples, but his smile was youthful. “Sir Merriweather and I enjoy a brisk game of chess now and again. It will be my pleasure.”

Icarus' eyes narrowed at the staccato clip of boot heels on the stairs. He moved to the hallway, tense. He didn't relax as a tall woman in a royal blue dress moved briskly down the hall. Bastion saw her and his face was wreathed in smiles. He held out his arms to the woman, who hugged him and laughed at his enthusiastic kiss to her cheek.

“Icarus, Cora, may I present Lady Lucia Conti.”

The woman was about my age, with the dark hair and eyes of her Italian ancestry. She was full-figured and possessed a direct nature that was obvious in the way she bowed formally to each of us before shaking our hands and meeting our eyes.

“Luci has agreed to help me care for Archimedes while you're out.”

I had to admit that both Icarus and I objected rather strenuously. We trusted no one except our closest friends with Archie's safety. Bastion's smile grew as the tall woman stopped our arguments with a firm hand in the air.

“I assure you that I bear Sir Merriweather no ill will. I'm an apothecary, just like Bastion. I would never harm my patient.”

Bastion crossed his arms as both Icarus and I wavered on the idea of allowing the woman past our wards. “Luci and Archimedes have met before. She owes him her life.”

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at the woman. “Archie saved your life?”

“He did. Many years ago when I was a young girl, and he wasn't much older, he brought me to Bastion for healing, and in doing so he suffered a great deal. I owe him my life.”

“That's her!” I looked at Icarus with wide eyes. He blinked at me, not understanding the significance of the woman before us. “She is the girl Archie saved from Baiandelio.”

Understanding came to Icarus like a wave to shore. He softened, and bowed low to Lady Lucia.

“Archimedes thought never to see you again, Lady.” Icarus waved a hand and released the wards. “He will be most pleased.”

Lucia's mouth twisted in a smile. She was a stern woman, and I knew she didn't smile or laugh often. Archimedes would have much fun toying with her serious nature, just as he did with Icarus. “We will see to his safety and healing. Be careful on the streets, Adept Kane.”

I took Icarus' arm and grinned at Bastion and Lucia. “Take good care of Archie. We'll be back before evening tea.”

They closed the door and Icarus reinforced the wards with a few words. I held The Hand to the door frame, pressing an extra layer of protection to the wood. Icarus raised an eyebrow as I took his arm again and we headed to the lift. He moved it with magic, taking us smoothly down to the lobby of the VansMueller.

“When did you think to use The Hand in such a way?” he asked.

“It seemed like it couldn't hurt, “I replied, tucking the talisman between my breasts. The weight and feel of the twisted metal had become as a part of my skin, and I no longer noticed it against my heart. “We cannot let those ruffians hurt Archie again.”

Icarus pushed open the gate and assisted me out, making sure my narrow skirts weren't caught in the lift before sending it back upstairs with a wave of his hand.

The lobby was empty, the marble floors shining in the sunlight blinking off the leaded glass windows. Bernard, the doorman, opened the doors for us as we swept past to the street. Icarus pressed three pence into the man's hand as I opened my parasol against the glare of the sun.

“As much as I dislike the idea, the Underground is the fastest way to Columbia Road.”

I knew that Icarus' magic was dampened underground, and he hated feeling trapped by the earth enclosed all around him.

We moved along the sidewalk toward the entrance to the Underground Station. A few people tipped their hats to us, and a few moved across the street to avoid us. Icarus had a spark of anger in his eyes at the ungrateful nature of those he worked so hard to protect, but I was proud of him for keeping a tight hold on it. He held my elbow as we moved into the Latimer Road Station. He dropped the fare into the palm of the ticket master and helped me into the carriage. The door slid closed behind us and I held tightly to the pole as the cars began to move. Magic held the carriages above the ground, with several mages working in tandem to keep them in line and on the right path. Icarus stayed close, his hand tight against my back.

“I detest this part.” he murmured.

The carriage plunged into darkness as we entered the tunnels. The mage at the end of our car was a ragged young man with untrimmed blonde hair and a beard, but he was efficient as he kept our car steady and the lights came up slowly in response to his command.

“Why does their magic work underground and yours is weakened?” I asked Icarus quietly. It was a weakness he rarely spoke about, but he'd explained it to Archie and I when the Underground had first opened.

I felt his lips close to my ear as he spoke quietly. There were only a few non-magical passengers at this time of morning, but he didn't want anyone to overhear.

“My magic is tied directly to my body and to my mind. My father burned the magic into the particles of my being, merging them with me. It's not the magic that is weakened, but my fear of the underground that weakens it.”

I looked up at him, and he was so close to me. I could see the gold in the blonde of his lashes and the tired lines around his eyes.