Cogs in Time Anthology (The Steamworks Series) (30 page)

Ada caught his accidental pause. “Don’t play with us, Gabriel. Tell us everything, and we will let you know what we can do for you.”

Gabriel gulped uncomfortably. He had believed this would be a simple task. The women led desperate lives, anything he offered would be accepted, or so he thought. 
Perhaps if I appeal to their sense of justice…

“The police are on the look-out for her. They would like to question her involvement with the murders. Seems like her father wanted to clean out the East End, and perhaps his daughter took things into her own hands. Made a pact with the vampires even.”

The women stood, unrelenting.

“Astrid is believed to be a spy,” he lied, attempting to squeeze their sentiments for the dead women until the pain was alive again. “She came to you as a mole and passed on information to the Society.”

No one said anything, the air hung between them like a curtain. “She even tried to get at the boy. To get rid of him.” He nodded towards the shed; his voice was slow and cold, like the voice of a narrator on the stage.

The image of Margaret’s body, sucked dry, flashed in their minds. The gruesome images piled behind their eyes.

“This is your chance to avenge Margaret. It would be the retribution for all the women killed by the vampire.”

The eyes of every woman sparkled with rage, glowing with vengeance. Ada spat on the ground. Violet looked to Ada for direction. Lady Astrid possessed a genuine heart; her concern for Timothy had been real. Ada knew it to be true. Ada shook her head, wondering if her judgment had been altered by the vampire’s telepathic manipulation.
 
Perhaps Astrid was a mole?

Ada blinked away her thoughts. The corners of her eyes were damp since Margaret had been like a sister. She looked at Violet, her eyes brimming over, her fingers twitching in angry restlessness. She gave her a nod, the slightest most imperceptible gesture, noticed only by Violet.

Violet knew what to do.

***

The tree waved its branches in the wind as if bidding farewell to a fond friend. The Harvest Moon rose early in the evening and stood half covered by the envious clouds around it. It peeked through the dark clouds, not sure whether to hide behind them or overpower them completely. In the yellowy light, underneath the large oak, exuding calm and beauty, stood a woman.

She turned away from Draegan as he approached, her petite shoulders held high. Her hair whipped around in the wind as she struggled with her midnight blue jacket trimmed in lace that covered her up to her neck.

“Astrid,” whispered Draegan into the wind. “Your precious streetwalkers turned on you.” The figure stood, merging with the ambience of the dark night. Draegan’s chest burned with satisfaction and excitement. He would be fulfilled. For every taunt thrown at him in comparison to Luca, he would feed from his lover.

Draegan flew to the woman with a hateful force. As soon as he detected the warmth of her heartbeat in her neck, he ripped into the soft skin. Her blood tasted warm and sweet to his tongue, yet he pulled away in shock. The woman fainted in a heap at his feet, and he kicked her away from him. Leaves fell around her body.

Draegan stepped back in disgust. For the moment he tasted the blood, he knew it was not the blood of Astrid. This was not the woman he had escaped to kill, not his brother’s lover, not the woman who could satisfy his lust.

The woman lay on the ground, eyes closed, but alive.
 
She will be infected, just as Karina was, and just as I am also.

However, unlike Draegan, her disease would spread through her mind and body faster.

Luca!
 With the sharpest of his fingernails, he scraped the flesh along the neck of the half-dead woman with a cryptic message.

My blood is a never-ending river, and in it, you will drown.

Violet moaned and looked at Draegan without fear. “You will not succeed, Vampire. You have been fooled.”

“You have been fooled,” said Draegan, spitting on her. A string of saliva hung from his bottom lip. “Go forth, woman, and infect your kind.”

Violet rolled to her side, her hands smeared with warm dark blood. Her eyes glowed in the moon as she laughed.

Chapter Nine

The Water’s Edge

Astrid spent the morning walking in circles, in the garden. Her father ordered that she remain at the country home in Kent, away from London. As she strolled between the rows of
marigolds and chrysanthemums, she remembered seeing Luca for the first time. The feeling of the initial excitement, stuck in her chest. As she walked, she felt the same initial rush as she had that night.

“Are you here?” she asked into the aether. “I can’t see you, but are you here?”

Sitting on a small bench under an oak, she looked above her and behind her, but nothing or nobody could be seen. She reached for her gloves and parasol and felt a cool hand slip into hers for a brief moment.

Astrid dropped her gloves from her other hand. She sat up in alarm, looking for him. “Are you here?” she whispered. She no longer felt the hand over hers. “Nobody else is with me. Show yourself.”

She felt a warm breath on the back of her neck and a brush of a hand against her cheek. She spun around; the air in front of her appeared distorted as if excessive heat and humidity controlled the atmosphere. Color appeared. Beige, then black and white, solidified in front of her. It was Luca. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it as the noise of a zeppelin overhead filled the air.

“How long have you been here?” she asked. She looked into the sky, the airship passed over them, leaving an impression of itself in the cloud. “Have you been following me again without my knowledge?” Astrid’s eyes glimmered with mischief, but Luca wasn’t well versed in feminine discourse.

His gray eyes clouded and melted into pools of embarrassment and regret. He mumbled something and stepped back from her. “Sorry. I did not mean to alarm you.”

Astrid realized Luca’s discomfort. “Oh, no, I was rather wishing for a visitor.” She was uncomfortable, unused to behaving in such a way, so shy and demure and not knowing what to say or do. Deciding to keep silent and study him, she watched him closely; his fingers clutched the edges of his robes nervously. He felt the same, she could see.

“Your life is in danger,” said Luca bluntly, changing the entire mood from the beginnings of romance, to one of tense fear.

His words brought Draegan to the front of her mind. A cold rush of fear filled her again, undiluted by time. Astrid ran away from the tree, towards the steps of her manor. Her eyes darted around quickly, trying to find anyone else hiding and lurking without her knowledge. She looked back at Luca in fear, for a moment she distrusted all vampires, even him.

“I had to tell you the truth.” He felt a stab of pain in his heart as Astrid moved away from him.

“So, you say you are here to save me again?” She slowly approached him. “Can I not save myself?” She walked close enough to touch him.

Luca could see a tiny scar along her neck, halfway covered by her thick brown hair. He studied each pore of her skin and each separate eyelash of her eye, memorizing her beauty. His arms rose slightly to touch her face, to take each cheek into his palms. His breath quickened, but it was his turn to move back. He summoned all his restraint to step away from the invisible cord that held them together somehow.

“I suggest you don’t leave the grounds,” he stammered. “I will be watching over you, as is appropriate. Go about your business, without discomfort.” Luca’s face was blank and emotionless as he quickly pulled away from a connection with her.

“Without discomfort? Go about my business? My business is not to be looked in upon! Nor to be spied on without my knowledge!” Astrid stared at him, partly in anger and partly in pain.

“I would have shown myself to you eventually. I felt rude since you were asking directly to not appear.” Luca looked at the ground, oblivious to the flames in Astrid’s eyes.

“But,” Astrid spoke with irritation, uncomfortable with her feelings.

“It would be best if you returned inside,” interrupted Luca.

“Go back inside? I am not some sort of lesser being to order about like a child!” Her voice rose, she sounded shriller than she intended. “Maybe you are no different. You need to be in control and order women about, to keep your sense of manly order intact.”

She picked up her parasol from the ground. A light rain began to fall on them both. “Wait!” he objected as she turned away.

“I didn’t ask for your help. I was conducting my own investigation. The only danger that came into my life came from you. In fact, without you, there may be no danger. I think the threat is here, standing right in front of me.” Her words stung Luca. “I shouldn’t be talking to a vampire,” she hissed. “Especially, since I’ve been attacked by your kind.”

Luca turned his face from her. He felt an unsettling vibration in the air. “Please, trust me,” he pleaded.

“I probably should not be having a conversation with a vampire. My father would be most displeased.”

“Please. It’s my brother. He has taken a turn further into insanity. I believe he wants to get to you in order to get to me.” Luca looked at her with pleading eyes. He bent into her face, begging to be believed.

“Why would hurting me hurt you? What I am to you?” She kept her gaze steady and prodding.

“I can’t explain. Or perhaps I don’t want to,” he sighed, exasperated by an urgency he felt in the air. The strange vibration alarmed him. His robes moved, though no wind could be felt. “I think he’s here.”

Luca closed his eyes and raised his arms to his sides. Humming, he began to disappear, merging with the foggy air. Astrid was pulled from the ground as Luca rushed her towards her house. She looked down at the grass, flashing in a blur of bright green under her feet. “Don’t look down,” advised Luca.

“Why? I’m fine,” she stated. “Luca?”

Within seconds, he deposited her at the steps to her father’s estate, and was gone.

***

The headquarters of the Society rushed with vampires as they headed to the High Table’s summons. The members sat, speaking in low tones, waiting for Mordecai to begin.

“Gravesend and London is in danger. The enmity between our race and the human race has escalated since the advent of this virus. For decades, we have been able to maintain the peace. And now, with the inadvertent release of the retrovirus, we have jeopardized all we hold dear.”

“Where is Draegan?” asked Castille. “Was this virus a deliberate attempt to sabotage the Society?”

“I do not believe it was purposeful. However, I do believe it was reckless. And worse, I believe he is also infected.”

“Where is he?” asked the High Table in unison.

“He is somewhere in London or Gravesend. Probably spreading his insanity.”

“Sir,” said Castille. “Riots are beginning in the East End.”

Castille’s words were barely audible over the sudden ruckus from under the window. Below the terrace of the window, twenty or more humans shouted slogans against the Society. Blown up pictures of the women in the fertility trial, the women who had been sent home with the insanity were held high on placards.

As Mordecai looked out at the men and women gathered, a large black and gold, private airship, with the insignia of Queen Victoria, flew overhead. The radio on Mordecai’s desk crackled and hissed out cheerful news, oblivious to the tension and restlessness of its listeners. “Queen Victoria has taken her leave from the city of London to visit her Scottish Estates for the remainder of the season,” said the newscaster.

Mordecai’s phone rang. It was the direct line to London’s Chief of Police. “Have you heard the announcement?” asked a cockney voice on the other end.

“Announcement?” asked Mordecai.

“Yes. We have a situation, obviously, on our hands. A dire set of circumstances indeed.”

“I am aware,” answered Mordecai cautiously.

“The decision was made last night to evacuate the Queen from London. The virus is spreading like wildfire.”

“We are doing our best, on our end, to control the situation.”

“Can this virus be traced back to your genetic laboratory? I need a straight answer.”

“Possibly, we are still gathering facts.”

“If it can, and if it is, I will not be able to help you, Mordecai.”

Mordecai sat, his robes covering his head as he slumped to the table. 
Control, I am losing control.

“Another thing, if you have a Society member out attacking the East Enders, as rumored, this may be the end.”

The phone went dead.

***

Draegan floated over the city, pleased with his plans to bring down Mordecai. Violet did not die and that pleased him, too. As she laid grappling with death, her body twitching in response to Draegan’s venom, he watched her. Death fascinated him, yet he wanted her to live and become another seed of his annihilation.