The Chess Queen Enigma (30 page)

Our other companions seemed to agree, for I felt them move closer to hold on to Evaline this time.

To my disgust, the Ankh merely watched as the vampire gulped from his helpless victim. She seemed to be fiddling with the device in her hand, but whatever her intent, nothing appeared to change. Was she trying to somehow control the vampire?

The UnDead fed on, desperately and roughly, and the jolting of Bastet's body slowed and her twitches became further and further apart as her struggles waned.

At last, the vampire pulled away and released the woman. She slumped to the ground and lay there unmoving. The Ankh stepped over her as her three male assistants grabbed the sated vampire and held him by his arms. The UnDead struggled, but the Ankh ignored the vampire as she walked around behind him.

Though she didn't speak, her movements were filled with anger and frustration. Clearly, whatever she'd hoped to happen had not come to pass.

I couldn't see precisely what she was doing behind the UnDead, who, despite having fed, was still too weak to shake free from his captors. The Ankh appeared to have raised her arms and was doing something at the back of his neck. When she at last came around from behind him, she was holding
a small palm-sized object. I could see two wires protruding from it at one end.

Pix's device.

My eyes widened and I turned to Grayling, who had been watching with the same horrified expression I knew I wore. He looked at me at the same moment, recognizing precisely what I'd just realized. Had she just detached the device from the back of the vampire's neck? Even from here, I was certain it was the same sort of device Mr. Pix had been selling.

Was that what had caused the creature to buck and writhe during the torture, somehow controlled by the other mechanism the Ankh had been using?

“Restrain him again,” said the Ankh in her deep, fake male voice. “I don't wish to have any distractions while I deal with this one.”

I felt Evaline go utterly still as the villainess moved toward Mr. Pix's glass enclosure. She stood in front of the opening, tilting her head as she faced him.

“Still alive, I see. Excellent. I'd hate to lose you so quickly, my clever friend. You have kept me on the chase for quite some time now . . . and I confess I wasn't quite certain it actually was you until you made your appearance here. But now I have the opportunity not only to find out precisely what you know, but also to engage you in some of my own experimentation. You are the perfect candidate—and how ironic that you should be the one to supply the tool for that which seals
your own destiny. Hasn't anyone ever explained the dangers of dealing in illicit business, my dear Mr. Smith?”

To my surprise, and Evaline's obvious relief, Pix moved. He lifted his dark, matted head and must have said something to the Ankh, for she reared back a little in surprise.

“Indeed. Well, we shall see about that. I suspect with a little more convincing, you'll be more than happy to tell me everything you know about Emmet Oligary. And then after you've confessed everything, we shall move on to more amusing things.”

She stepped back and moved a lever. Evaline's muscles tightened, but nothing violent occurred. Inside the glass enclosure, Pix revolved, spinning slowly around until he faced the opposite direction.

The Ankh picked up a familiar metal device in her gloved hands. The same two wires protruded from it like the one she'd removed from the vampire. They looked like the antennae on an insect, but this was no insect. I watched in fascinated horror as she moved inside the glass enclosure behind Pix. I had an awful suspicion I knew what she was about to do.

Apparently so did Evaline, for I felt her gather herself up.

“Now, keep very still, my dear,” warned the villainess. “It will hurt less . . .” When the Ankh's arm moved sharply near the back of his neck and Pix jolted, then shuddered violently, I knew my suspicions about how she was using Pix's devices had been correct.

There was no holding Evaline back any longer.

She shrugged easily from the grip of our companions and burst wordlessly onto the scene. The trio of hulking men spun in surprise and roared toward her even as the Ankh turned to see.

“Why, Miss Stoker. How good of you to join us. And—oh, you've brought reinforcements!” Even as she greeted us, the villainess positioned the second wire into the back of Pix's neck. He cried out as she jammed it in place, and for the first time he began to struggle against his bindings.

Evaline hadn't paused in her attack; nor did she waste energy or effort with the social nicety of speech. She flew sleekly at the first of the men who came toward her, swinging her stake and slamming it into his flesh as she ducked under his beefy arm. He wasn't an UnDead, but he did cry out and stagger back under the onslaught of the infuriated vampire hunter. Blood spurted from the wound in his chest, but he dove after her anyway.

Grayling, Dylan, and I were right in her wake, and in a matter of moments, the melee was on. I trained my Steam-Stream gun at one of the burly men, pulling back sharply on the trigger. The blast of steam roared forth with such force that I flew backward and nearly landed on my posterior.

“What on earth are you doing? Free them!” the Ankh shrieked, forgetting to keep her voice deep and masculine. She'd turned from her position behind Pix, and watched in fury even as she continued with her work behind him.

Amunet, who'd been slinking off toward one of the arched hallways, started and rushed back to untie the three vampires.

I didn't see what happened next, for I'd tripped over the body of Bastet and stumbled to my knees. Fortunately, I kept a good grip on my firearm and blasted it at the back of one of the men as he lunged toward Dylan. The hulk cried out as the shot of steam seared through his trousers, and he crashed to the ground.

Exhilarated by that small victory, I rushed past Grayling, who was facing off with one of the guards, his cognog firearm shooting streams of something blue and green in turns. He seemed to have that combat well in hand, and I headed toward the Ankh. I needed to pull that mask from her face . . . or better yet, steam her with a stream from my gun.

But I misjudged the corner of a table and slammed into it, which knocked me off my path and sent tools and equipment flying. Someone grabbed me from behind and I smelled the stench of death and blood as the face of an UnDead swooped toward me.

Just as the fangs scraped my skin, the vampire froze, then jolted against me.
Poof!
He was gone in a cloud of thick ash. Coughing, I spun to see Grayling stagger away. Even in that moment, I saw he was seriously favoring his wounded arm, and I watched in horror as one of the vampires grabbed him up and flung him onto a recently vacated table.

Grayling's weapon spun from his grip and clattered to the ground. I dove for it, just missing being stepped upon by one of the hulking men.

I didn't know what button did what on Grayling's device, but I began pushing them and pulling on the trigger as I roared up with the weapon in hand, aiming it randomly. A stream of green blazed out, shocking me with its violence—and slicing the skin off Amunet's arm.

I staggered away, spinning to see the vampire holding Grayling on the table with one large hand as he lunged toward his shoulder with gleaming fangs. Grayling's free arm swung away and up, then shot forward, fingers gouging into the UnDead's eyes.

The vampire shrieked and reared back, then lunged again toward Grayling as I sprinted toward them. I used all my strength to clock the UnDead on the back of the head with the firearm, then stumbled away as I dug furiously around my skirt for the wooden stake I'd stuck in there.

As I slammed backward into someone behind me, I found the stake with my fingers. The vampire flew toward me, and I fumbled the wooden pike into an awkward grip . . .

Poof!

The vampire couldn't stop himself in time and impaled himself directly on the stake. The force of his movement was so strong, my arm snapped back painfully, and my whole body swung around. I skittered to the ground with a thunk.

As I pulled myself to my feet, I heard a furious cry from the direction of the Ankh, then immediately the sounds of sparking and an ugly zapping noise.

“No!” screamed Evaline, flying through the air toward the glass enclosure, the Ankh, and Pix.

Pix gave a roar of pain, then one massive jolt and collapsed bonelessly, hanging there by the restraints around his wrists.

I warded off another attack by one of the hulking men, who slung me violently to the ground by the back of my bodice. My breath was knocked out of me, and I hit my head so hard black spots danced in my vision. I reached weakly for the weapon I'd just dropped, but a large boot kicked it away.

Then someone slammed into the back of the man's head. I caught a glimpse of Dylan as he jabbed behind him with the blade of his walking stick as he barreled past, stabbing the man with his knife. The man roared and lumbered up after him, flinging blood everywhere.

I shook my head, and after a moment pulled shakily to my feet, aware that the sounds of the melee had eased. I looked around.

Ash wafted through the air, thick and smelling like death. Bastet lay on the ground, and one of the hulking men was hobbling out of the chamber as quickly as he could on his injured leg. Something heavy rolled down after him, blocking his exit . . . and that of the others as well.

The Ankh was gone, and so were the rest of her assistants. Presumably, all three vampires were dead.

Evaline was at the glass enclosure, tearing at the bonds that held Pix in place. Dylan was there with her, and together they freed him quickly. His muscular body sagged to the ground, and Evaline put her hand at his throat in a position to feel for a pulse.

She looked up at me, her eyes wide and terrified.
No
, she mouthed, and dropped her ear to his chest. “No!” she cried. “
No!
”

“Move.” Dylan shoved her out of the way and put his head to Pix's chest as well. “Heart's stopped beating.”

“No,” breathed Evaline. She didn't seem to care that the Ankh—who'd murdered Pix and whomever else—had gotten away. I wanted to rush after them, but stopped. There was a stone impediment where the doorway had been, and Pix was . . . well . . .

“Heart's stopped beating,” Dylan said again. “He's dead.”

“H
e . . . he can't be dead,” Evaline breathed. “He
can't
be.” I started to pull her away. I didn't truly understand her attachment to the man, but clearly she had one. “It was that device. It shocked him, all the way to his heart and stopped it.”

“That's it!” Dylan shrieked suddenly and surged up, then lunged back down. He began tearing at Pix's filthy, blood-and-sweat-soaked clothing, pulling it away to bare his chest and throat. “Get me one of those things. Not this one, a different one. A new one. Now! Make the wires long. Inspector, do you know how to work it? Can you make it work?”

“I believe so,” said Grayling, sliding away the one that had been attached to the back of Pix's neck. He settled down to examine it, his long fingers nimble and quick.

I stumbled away to find one of the devices. When I turned back with one in my hand, I saw the most curious thing.
Dylan had tilted Pix's head back, lifting his chin as high as possible. And he knelt next to him, with his hands clasped together, back-to-palm. As I watched, he thrust them sharply against Pix's sternum.

“Where . . . is . . . the . . . de . . . vice,” he said between thrusts. I heard him counting under his breath, then to my shock and surprise, he bent and
blew air into Pix's mouth
.

Then he returned to the same process of pumping against Pix's chest. “Hurry . . .” he puffed. “Not . . . much . . . 
time
 . . .”

“Let me,” said Evaline, pushing at him impatiently. “Show me.”

“Here,” said Dylan, positioning her hands. They switched places with an ease and speed that startled me. She picked up the rhythm almost perfectly, and I watched in fascination as I handed the new device to Dylan.

“Can you make it work?” He demanded as he gave it to Grayling. “We don't have much time, and even then . . . well, I'm not sure if it'll work as a defibrillator or not.”

I didn't know what he was talking about, of course, but the possibility of saving a life had me asking, “What can I do?”

“Find another one. Find wires. Find something like . . . like tape if you can. Something to hold it to him. Mina,
quickly
. I want a backup, in case . . . We have maybe one more minute. Grayling, do you have it?”

“Yes. It's ready. What do you want—where do you want it?”

Dylan didn't respond, just yanked the device from Grayling's grip. I found another of the devices, but I couldn't find anything like adhesive.

I started to tell Dylan, but he interrupted me. “We don't have time. Move, Evaline.”

He fairly pushed her away, utterly rude and focused in the process, but under the circumstances, no one cared. I know I was watching with abject fascination and careful hope as he took the two wires, looked at them briefly, then drew in a deep breath.

“I don't know any other way. But I have to try.”

I jolted when he jabbed one of the wires just beneath the skin of Pix's bare chest near the sternum. Evaline made a sound of dismay and argument, but Grayling stopped her when she would have reached for Dylan.

“Let him do it.”

“I need the strongest surge of power possible. In one shot, okay? When I say. Don't hold back,” Dylan said to Grayling as he inserted the second wire. “I'm not even sure exactly where to put these,” he muttered, then sat back on his haunches. He looked terrified, and he captured my gaze with his, then turned back to the bare-chested man with two wires protruding from his flesh.