Mission: Improper: London Steampunk: The Blue Blood Conspiracy (38 page)

But not yet.
Now he had a group of vampires and anarchists to discover.

D
AWN GLOWED GOLDEN
on the horizon.

Finally.

Byrnes waited as Jack inspected the small cut on the back of his head where he'd inserted the tracking device an hour ago.
It had already healed, thanks to Byrnes's CV levels, but they were taking no chances that Zero would smell any blood on him.

Jack began to clean his instruments, as Debney paced the room.
Byrnes hadn't been entirely surprised to see him here.
Not after Ingrid's little revelation about the two men, but the pacing was getting on his nerves.

"Heavens sake, would you sit down?"
he growled.
"You're making me dizzy."

Debney promptly sank into a chair, knotting his hands in his lap.
"I'm sorry."

It took the edge off his words.
"Don't you think you ought to go home?
Get some rest?"

"I don't think I can," Debney muttered.
"Ulbricht's still out there somewhere, and...
well...
You're going to be careful?"
Debney asked, and the words were so perfectly pronounced, that Byrnes hesitated.

Flippant words died on the tip of his tongue.
He eyed his brother.
Was Debney
actually
worried about him?
"I'll be careful," he promised.

Debney let out a slow breath.

"Ingrid will watch his back," Jack added, resting a hand on Debney's shoulder and squeezing.
"Nothing's going to happen to him."

Their eyes met, and Byrnes found himself in the middle of a moment that was awkwardly sweet.
He stepped out of the way before Debney tried to do something ridiculous, like hug him.

There
were
limits.

Heels clicked on the hallway floor.

"Slight problem," Ingrid said, sailing into the parlor.
She wore her protective armored corset over a loose white shirt, and a tight pair of leather pants that showcased those Amazon legs to perfection.
He couldn’t stop himself from looking, remembering them wrapped around his hips.

Malloryn followed on her heels, slipping his embroidered coat from his shoulders.
"I'm a problem now, am I?"

That tore Byrnes’s attention off her legs.
"I thought you were in meetings?"
The last thing they needed was the duke getting in the midst of all of this.
Malloryn pulled strings.
He didn't prance into vampire dens.

"They're over.
Martial law has been declared.
Nobody is allowed out after night falls, and the Nighthawks are going to flood the streets."

"Have you thought about this, your Grace?"
Byrnes asked him.
"We're going into vampire-infested tunnels.
It's possible some of us might not return."

Malloryn settled that unsettling blue stare upon him.
"Do I look like I need you to hold my hand, Byrnes?"

"I've never seen you fight.
This won't be a duel, your Grace."

"Oh, good.
I'd best leave my rapier behind then," Malloryn replied, tugging off his cravat and then piling his rings in the mess of his coat.
"Someone fetch me one of those armored waistcoats."

"As you wish, your Grace," Jack murmured, and shot Byrnes a steady look as he left to find Malloryn some protective gear.
Debney continued trying to fade into the wallpaper.

"And stop treating me like I'm going to be bloody underfoot," Malloryn bellowed, so that Jack could hear it.
He glanced at Byrnes.
"Problem?"

Byrnes crossed his arms.
"You can come on one condition.
You're not in charge of this mission.
You don't have any experience in the streets, or beneath them.
I do.
Ingrid does.
Even Charlie knows what he's doing.
So order of command goes like this: Me, then Ingrid, then Charlie.
If all three of us are down, then, and only then, do you get to take charge.
One hint that you're not listening, and I will personally truss you up and deliver you to the Nighthawks until all of this is done, do you understand?"

A slight smile crossed Malloryn's lips.
"I think I can manage not to get myself killed.
You're in charge.
So let's get this briefing underway, shall we?"

I
n a way
, Malloryn actually helped.
The borough was quietly cleared by the Nighthawks, and a troop of the metal Cyclops suits that the humanists had created to overthrow the prince consort were supplied to help clear any tunnels.
Charlie enthusiastically claimed one of them, strapping himself inside the heavy metal suit and tugging the harness into place.

The entire thing was unnerving, but Byrnes had to admit that the enormous steel automaton would prove handy if they needed to clear tunnels or take on a vampire.
It clomped along at his side, pistons hissing as Charlie worked the gadgetry inside it.

“If all goes well, Zero will kidnap me off the streets, you’ll track me to her den, and then you can come in guns blazing and we’ll take down the entire nest of vampires in one fell swoop.”
The plan pleased him, but he had to admit there was doubt there too.
It knotted itself in his stomach like a leaden weight, and the cause of it tilted almond-shaped eyes up to his.
“Ingrid,” he murmured, capturing her hand.
“Don’t do anything stupid, and stay safe.
You’re lucky I’m letting you do this.”

“Letting me?”
she replied, in the kind of tone that was the exact reason he hadn’t bothered arguing against it.

This was one fight he wouldn’t win.

“Zero’s made a threat against you,” he pointed out, and caught Charlie’s eye over her shoulder.
They’d already had a quiet little chat, man-to-man.
But the last thing he wanted was for her to know that.
He squeezed her hand and dragged her closer, his voice lowering.
“If anything happens to you….”
This was unfamiliar terrain.

Ingrid’s gaze softened.
“I’m not the one walking into a vampire den unprotected,” she pointed out.

“Then you know how I feel.”

Ingrid toyed with the lapels on his coat.
"I know how you feel."

Their eyes met.
Byrnes squeezed her waist.
He'd never gone into battle like this—worried about anyone else's safety, or even his own, now that he had a promise to fulfill.

"Are we quite done with the sweet nothings?"
Malloryn asked, striding back to the group and priming his pistol.
Sunrise turned his brown hair coppery.

Byrnes stepped back from Ingrid and cleared his throat.
He'd never been one for public displays.
"Time to see if she takes the bait."

Ingrid grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him against her.
Clearly she disagreed.
Their mouths met, fast and furious, and saying more than words.

When she let him go, Byrnes cupped her cheek in his hand.
So many emotions raced through her bronze eyes.
He knew how much she'd lost, and how much she feared the idea that he might not return.

"I'll come back to you, I promise.
And I always speak the truth, Ingrid."
Then, giving her one last kiss, he turned and walked away.

H
e went ahead alone
.

Ingrid bit her lip, pacing in the shadows as Byrnes's lean form slipped into the fog...
then disappeared.
She ached to go with him, to guard his back, but this task needed to be undertaken alone.
Even if it felt like she was cutting her heart out of her chest.

"He'll be all right," Charlie murmured.
He'd managed to discreetly give them both some privacy by turning his face away and studying the wall as they kissed, but she didn't think much slipped past Charlie.
Despite his youth, he wore the weight of the rookeries on his soul.
"Byrnes knows what he's doing."

It wasn’t so much doubt about Byrnes’s abilities that made her fret, but the fear that she’d never see him again.
She’d tried so hard to keep him at bay, and yet in true Byrnes fashion he’d pushed his way into her life, aggravated her, argued with her, seduced her… and then stolen her heart when she wasn’t looking.

Now she finally knew what it felt like to have something that she could lose.
That certain little something she’d been missing from her life had come from an unexpected direction, but she couldn’t fight the fact that she wanted it.
Wanted him.
A future with him.

And it was only now, standing on the precipice of losing him, that she could see that.

"What if Zero doesn't decide to keep him?
What if she sets her vampires upon him?
Anything could go wrong."
She could almost see it.

"I know how you feel—"

"How I feel?"
she retorted.
"How could you?
You're just a boy."

"I'm old enough."
Shadows darkened those brilliant blue eyes as Charlie's entire demeanor changed.
It happened so quickly that she realized just how much of a facade that cheerful mask was.
"You're afraid because he's walking into danger, and there's a chance—just a slim one—that something bad might happen and you cannot protect him.
That's the worst part of this, the fact that there's not a damn thing you can do to help.
The lack of control....
You just have to hope for the best."

Shame washed through her.
She was taking her emotions out on him, and it was clear from Charlie's tone that he had someone he worried about too.
"I'm sorry," Ingrid said gruffly.
"I'm on edge, and—"

“Don’t worry about it.”
Charlie flashed her a smile.
“You’re not the first verwulfen I’ve ever dealt with.”

Ingrid realized she was pacing and stopped, brushing her knuckles restlessly against the seam of her pants.
"Who is she?"

"Who?"

"The girl you were speaking of; the one you worry about."

The humor dissolved off his expression.
Charlie glanced down, thick blonde lashes hiding the slither of a blue blood's
hunger
as it flashed darkly across his irises.
"Who said I was speaking of any girl in particular?"

"Your tone.
Your voice.
The fact that you cannot control your
hunger
when you think of her.
It shows in your eyes."
As Charlie fell into stillness, she added, "You don't have to tell me."

"Helps take your mind off matters, doesn't it?"
Charlie sighed, then glanced at the tracking device that he held in his hand; the one they would use to hunt Byrnes down if he didn't rendezvous with them at the appointed time.
"Her name is Lark.
And she hates me."

"Why?"

"I did something reckless during the revolution, and the man she thought of as a father died because of it.
He took a bullet that was meant for me."
Charlie's voice broke, and he fiddled with the tracker in his hand, his agile thumb toying with the small compass arrow that was pointing due south.
Toward where Byrnes had disappeared.
"Lark's barely spoken to me since that day.
That's one of the reasons I took this commission when Blade told me about it.
I just...
I needed to get out of the rookeries for a while."

"I'm sorry."

A translucent smile darted over his face, bittersweet and half mocking.
"That's why you should be careful with Byrnes's heart, Ingrid.
You just never know when you might lose such a thing—”

The compass arrow suddenly jerked.
Both she and Charlie leapt to their feet, staring down at it.

"Why did it do that?"
Ingrid whispered.

Charlie's face paled.
"Something happened."

Something...
Byrnes....

She started to run, but Charlie nearly jerked her off her feet.
"No!"
he told her fiercely, his hand locked around her wrist.
"No, we can't just rush in there looking for him.
Zero might not kill Byrnes, but she'll cut you down without a second's thought."

Ingrid glared at him.
"That's why you're here, isn't it?
To stop me from—"