Mission: Improper: London Steampunk: The Blue Blood Conspiracy (27 page)

Swiftly, he ran their past few encounters through his mind, trying to work out precisely when it had begun.

Byrnes frowned, brushing a strand of sweat-slicked hair off her cheek.
He couldn't think of a single moment that seemed to define this sudden momentous shift within him.
Instead it had been a slow slide, taking him unawares, and it had begun the second he walked into Garrett's office a year ago and a pair of breathtaking bronze eyes had lifted to his as Garrett introduced his new partner.

“I work better alone,” he'd promptly retorted.

“Afraid you'll be outclassed?”
came the husky reply, and a part of him had known then that this woman was unlike any other he'd ever met.

In his arms, Ingrid gave a soft sigh and shifted in her sleep.
And Byrnes couldn't stop himself from resettling her until her head rested against his chest where she'd hear his heart racing.
What was he going to do?
They wanted different things out of life, didn't they?

An image of baby Phillip shot to mind, dribbling on Ingrid's shoulder, and Byrnes panicked.
Because he wasn't that man, he'd never been that man, and yet he didn't know if he could do the right thing again and walk away from her.

"Well and truly done in by the look of you."
Gibson snorted.

And for once, he couldn't for the life of him disagree.

T
WO HOURS LATER
, Byrnes found himself at the guild.

A warm patient voice read some of Shelley's poetry in the guild master's office, and Byrnes eased the door open, slipping inside so as not to startle his mother.
Garrett sat by the fire, book open in his lap as he read over the head of a sleeping infant tucked over his shoulder.
His blue eyes flickered up and he nodded to Byrnes, then kept reading.

On the sofa lay his mother, her head resting against a pillow and her eyes sleepy.

"Hello," Byrnes said, kneeling by her feet and clasping her paper-thin hands in his.
"Has Garrett been looking after you well?"

His mother smiled, blue eyes watery and distant.
"H’lo, dear."

Dear
.
His chest squeezed.

A part of him wanted to say, “It's Caleb.”
But that wouldn't make any difference.
In her mind Caleb was a young boy and she often worried about feeding him, or where he was and who was watching out for him.
Just saying the name would rouse her panic as she tried to find her little boy.

She patted his cheek and Byrnes slid onto the sofa beside her, trying to move quietly.
Having two of them in the room at once would agitate her a little, as if she couldn't quite pay attention to the both of them, so he simply held her hand and gestured for Garrett to keep reading.

It took almost another ten minutes for his mother to fall asleep, her head resting against his shoulder, and Byrnes stared into the flames in the grate until Garrett fell silent.

"Where's Perry?"
he whispered.

"Coordinating the hunt," Garrett whispered back, setting the book aside and rubbing the back of his daughter.
"I didn't want to leave your mother alone.
She was quite settled with me sitting here, but when I tried to leave she grew upset again."

"Thank you."
He knew how difficult it was for Garrett to let his wife coordinate a hunt for a dangerous vampire whilst he was forced to stay behind, especially now that Perry was a mother.
But that was Garrett—he knew how to calm people, and listen to them, and charm them.
There was no one else who'd have been able to keep Moira quiet.
And Byrnes was fairly certain that Perry wouldn't be anywhere near the danger.

"There’s word on the street that there’s some sort of monster stalking the city," Garrett murmured, closing the book of poetry and setting it aside.
"My Nighthawks have been dealing with hysterical people ever since.
I know we said to wait….”

Byrnes eased the rug up over his mother's shoulders, then stroked his hand through her thin hair.
"It’s time to take action.
We need to start hunting these creatures, and Ulbricht’s mistress.
It wouldn't hurt to have more men to help work out where they're holing up, if you’re willing to send the Nighthawks into danger?"

“That’s our job.”
Garrett sighed.
"I thought that after the blood frenzy case I'd never have to deal with something like this again."

"You hoped."

"And how is Ingrid?"

There was a fist lodged in his chest at the mere thought of her, but he wasn't about to admit that.
"Healing.
She's lucky she's verwulfen."

Garrett considered him.
"Gibson called in, after he'd seen to her."

"I'll just bet he did.
And what did he have to say?"

"That apparently the mighty have fallen."

Byrnes cursed under his breath.
Garrett had been waiting years for this to happen.
Byrnes had thought it never would.
"If you say one more word about it, I swear I'll strangle you."

Garrett's grin had something of the Cheshire cat about it.
"What would I say?
That Lynch owes me a bottle of his finest.
Thank you, old friend."
He clapped Byrnes on the shoulder as he stood.
"Though it took you long enough."

"Nothing's happening."

"Are you fouling it up so badly?"

"I'm not—" Byrnes shut his mouth.
"Get me something to drink."
He glanced down as his mother shifted.
"And lower your voice."

"At the risk of being told to go to hell, I'm not the one shouting," Garrett mock-whispered, then glanced at the baby on his shoulder as she stirred.
"And I've learned the consequences of being loud.
Here.
Hold her while I get us a drink."

Byrnes found himself with a bundle of blankets and baby.
Christ.
Garrett rolled his eyes and helped settle her properly in Byrnes’s arms.

"You're a natural," Garrett said dryly.

"Sometimes I wonder why I bother to visit you."
He held the bundle awkwardly.
"Which twin is this?"

"Ivy," Garrett replied.
"Grace has been struggling with colic, so Doyle's pushing her in the perambulator to try and get her to sleep."

"Jesus."
The Nighthawks had turned mad.
He couldn't picture loud, swarthy Doyle pushing a perambulator.
"It's probably a good thing I'm out of here."

"Whether you like it or not, we're all a part of your life, Byrnes.
And Perry's adamant you're going to teach the twins how to use knives."
Garrett poured him a glass of blud-wein.
He cleared his throat.
"Is there a problem?
You couldn't take your eyes off Ingrid and Phillip the other day at dinner."

He wanted to bang his head against a wall.
Garrett's instincts were too good.
"No problem.
Just...
life is changing."

"Some of us have been through such a thing before.
It's not all bad.
Actually, its mostly rather wonderful, once you get through the confusion at the start.
There's nothing like waking up—"

"Please.
Don't."
Byrnes curled up his lip.
"Perry's like my sister."

"Which is precisely why I allow you near her," Garrett replied, and a flare of possessive heat filled his blue eyes.

"I seem to recall a moment where you thought I was a threat."
That bought a touch of humor to the surface.
"You thought there was something going on between us."

"I was an idiot."

"Well," Byrnes replied, "I'm not going to disagree."

"But now the shoe is on the other foot, and I'm not going to pretend I'm not enjoying the hell out of this.
May I offer you some advice?"

"I'm fairly certain I'm going to receive it, regardless of whether I want it or not," Byrnes grumbled.

"You're a hard man to get to know sometimes, Byrnes.
You've been with the Nighthawks nearly as long as I have, and I only found out your mother even existed two years ago," Garrett said, setting a glass down beside Byrnes and sinking into his own chair.

"Is there a point to this?"

"Yes, there is."
Garrett eased back in his chair, looking into the distance of the past.
"If you don't let Ingrid in, then you'll lose her, and trust me when I say that I've come very close to losing Perry in the past.
I don't recommend it."

"I came very close to losing her today," Byrnes admitted, and a chill rose in his chest once more.
"I don't....
This is not my area of expertise."

Garrett let out a snort.
"Clearly."

"I'm not quite certain how I feel...."
It scared the hell out of him.
He'd had a vision of his life, and now it was completely in disarray.
He'd never liked change, but if wanted to pursue this, then he would have to.
Byrnes stared at the baby in his arms.
Holding her was starting to grow awkward, but she smelled rather nice.
"This was supposed to be just a dalliance with Ingrid.
But it's very clearly not.
Or perhaps I should say...
it's rather rapidly leading in another direction.
What if I can't feel the same way she does?
What if I break her heart?
Or don't want what she wants?"
Rosa's words hammered doubt into his heart.

"Byrnes, I think the question you have to ask yourself is how you felt the second you realized she was in danger."

Terrified
.
He looked up.
"Certain for the first time in my life that she was mine, and that I had to protect her."

"
Can
you walk away?"

"I tried that," he snapped.
The baby shifted at the sound of his voice and he froze.
"We weren't going to pursue this.
But...
Christ, I left her to work alone today, and
this
is what happened!
She was injured because I'm too bloody scared of what's happening between us.
I should have been at her side.
I should have been there."

"You were there," Garrett said, "when she needed you.
And this decision doesn't need to be made in a day.
You have time to woo her, time to sort out your feelings."

"She wants children."

Garrett paused.
"Do you?"

"I don't know.
I've never really thought about it before, or about taking a wife."
He looked down at the baby, feeling that age-old surge of panic light through him.
First Debney pushing his way back into his life, now Ingrid....
It was easier not to have them there, easier to control all of the old feelings that Debney brought back into his heart if he didn't have to confront them, but the idea of pushing either of them away made him feel sick.

"And the darker side of your nature?
What does it think?"

"The hunger
is
me, Garrett.
I'm not going to pretend we're two separate identities, like you and Lynch do."

Garrett shrugged.
"I know that.
I also know that it represents everything primal about a man—or woman.
If you want to know what you want, or what's happening, then it will know.
There are no lies there."

He'd always been in control of himself, unlike a lot of other blue bloods.
Lynch had praised him for it, but it was vexing now when all of these
urges
began to overwhelm him.
He wasn't used to it.
"It wants her.
No, it's already claimed her, I think," he said, then cursed himself for an idiot for giving into thinking of this as the others did.
"
I
want her.
I'm claiming her."

"Go back to her side then," Garrett suggested.
"Work out where you want to go from there.
You have all the time in the world, and frankly, Ingrid deserves a say in this too.
It wouldn't surprise me if she's completely in the dark about what's going on in that head of yours."

"I told her we needed to take a step back and think about things rationally."

Garrett groaned and sipped his drink.
"It's worse than I suspected then.
She no doubt thinks you've given up on her or rejected her.
Trust me.
You don't want that to happen."

"Oh, shut up," he growled.

Garrett smiled.
"Your mother is safe here, and I'll set Doyle to fluffing about her.
There's nothing he likes more than mothering someone.
She'll be drowned in vats of tea and buried in biscuits, and treated like royalty.
Go tell Ingrid how you feel."

"Call me if she gets scared.
She doesn't like new places.
Or new people she doesn't know."
Byrnes looked down at his mother as he stood and passed the baby back to Garrett.
I wish you were still there.
But she wasn't, and she wouldn't even notice if he wasn't here when she woke.

But Garrett was right.
Someone else would.

"I will."

And he had a vampire to catch, a vampire who had just happened to attack the place where his mother was kept.

Coincidence?
Byrnes didn't think so.