Supernatural Devices (10 page)

Gordon, who had been standing open-mouthed, swallowed. “Not like yours, I suspect.”

Cruces’ eyes also lingered on Scarlett, but they travelled to the dagger just as quickly. “You know that dagger is special, of course? I could feel it last night, and I can feel it now.”

“I know it is special,” Scarlett agreed. “My parents found it. They believe it to have been the property of one of the female pharaohs of Egypt. It is said that she used it to execute the most dangerous traitors, and that it could kill them no matter what manner of creature they were. I think you will agree that it makes me a little more dangerous than you thought.”

Cruces smiled. “Oh, I always knew you were dangerous, just not in that way.”

“And you will need me for this,” Scarlett pointed out.

“How so?”

“If the Order marked me but left me alone, that means that my business with them is not done. And if the mark creates the connection you say it does… well, who better than I to find them?”

Gordon nodded towards Cruces. “She has a point, Lord Darthmoor.”

“I know,” the vampire said.

“And you must know by now what Scarlett can be like when she sets her mind to doing something.”

Cruces nodded. “I know that too. Very well then. So long as you plan to stay near her, Mr. Harris?”

Gordon nodded. “Where else would a friend be?”

“A friend, yes. And now, we should say goodbye…”

Moving with unnatural speed, Cruces took Scarlett’s arm. In less than a second, they were out in the hall. Cruces’ fingers drifted over Scarlett’s cheeks, tilting her face back so that she was looking at him from just inches away. For a moment or two, it seemed like he might kiss her, and Scarlett… right then was not sure that she would stop him.

“I should not feel so much, so quickly,” Cruces said, and Scarlett could see the gleaming tips of his fangs. He was obviously hungry. Curiously, the thought did not frighten Scarlett. If anything, it excited her. Cruces was dangerous. He was not some safe young man who would dance around what he wanted. What they both wanted. She felt her blood boiling with his touch. She knew vampires have a certain allure, a certain attraction; but she have not imagined it to be this strong.

Cruces stood very still for several seconds. “If you need me, I will find you,” he promised. “With my mark on you, I guarantee that. For now though, I need to feed, and I need to leave here now before I succumb to tasting you. I will see you later in the day, Scarlett.”

Briefly, Scarlett thought about telling him not to go, but that was not something she could do, and they both knew it. Instead, she just stood there as Cruces left, waited until the door swung shut, and went back into the parlor to ask Gordon if, since he was the one who had sent the servants out looking for her, he would be kind enough to help assist her in making breakfast.

A
quick tour of the house’s kitchen revealed that there was not, in fact, anything in it that would be suitable for breakfast. With that in mind, Gordon suggested that they might go out to breakfast instead, to which Scarlett could only agree. She took the time to wash and change first, however, picking out a simple dress of dark fabric worked with silver designs along the sleeves and hem from her wardrobe.

Scarlett took Gordon’s arm for the walk, proceeding with him down towards Pimlico Market, where they had often stopped in to buy food from vendors. Possibly, a well to do young lady like Scarlett might have been expected to find a small café somewhere, but Scarlett liked finding food on the move. It reminded her of the way people ate in some of the more exotic locales she had visited, though generally with less intriguing food.

Gordon had a cane with him as he walked, which fit neither with the athleticism of his appearance nor with the simple pragmatism of the way he dressed. Scarlett knew from experience, however, that the stick contained a sword blade, and was presumably so that Gordon would be able to help in the event of attack. Scarlett did not think that such a thing was likely, but she still had the dagger strapped to her leg, just in case, while her other items, the goggles and the compass, were hidden away in her purse.

It was pleasant to walk with Gordon like this. There were none of the pressures that came from being around the likes of Cruces; no expectation of anything more than friendship. Scarlett and Gordon had been friends for years, and he was more like a brother to her than anything, albeit one who spent his time helping her to improve her swordplay.

Pimlico Market was nothing like the Night Market in Covent Garden had been. It was not a place where the supernatural met the ordinary. It was simply a place for farmers and other traders to sell their goods in the heart of the city. Scarlett had often browsed it in either Gordon’s company or that of her mother, picking out the choicest foodstuffs as they came into London.

Today, she and Gordon stopped at a stand selling hot sausages. Hardly the most delicate of breakfasts, but it seemed like a long while since Mrs. Hudson’s cooking the night before, and Scarlett devoured hers gladly. While they ate, she and Gordon talked about the progress of the dig over in Egypt when Scarlett had left, and how much longer her parents planned to be out of the country.

“You know what it can be like with them,” Scarlett said. “Their work can just take off, meaning more time away without any warning. They have already had to extend the dig to deal with the clock they found.”

“Do you think they will call you back once you are done here, then?” Gordon asked.

Scarlett shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. They might, but I hope that they will not, on this occasion. I had forgotten how much I missed London.”

“Really?” Gordon asked. “I would not have thought you would have had the chance to see much of it since you got back.”

“Some of it,” Scarlett said. “Last night’s adventure covered quite a bit of ground. You know, I haven’t been into the Night Market alone before.”

“It must have been interesting for someone with your sight,” Gordon remarked. “I always wonder how much of what goes on there someone like me misses.”

Scarlett smiled. “That isn’t just the market though. There are ghosts enough everywhere.” She nodded to where the outline of a young woman sat on the edge of a stall selling fresh vegetables, taking out her goggles and passing them to Gordon so that he could see. “You know how ordinary the supernatural is for me.”

“Well, that is good to know,” Gordon said, “what with your adventures.”

“Is this the point where you tell me that I should be more careful, and that this isn’t the business for a young woman?”

Gordon shook his head. “You know me better than that, Scarlett.”

“Yes,” Scarlett agreed. “You’re a good friend, Gordon.”

“A good friend, yes.” Gordon looked like he might say something else, but he did not get a chance, because in that moment, a figure burst from the crowd of shoppers around them, heading straight for Scarlett. It was a young man, unkempt and tattered in his appearance, with matted hair and dirt streaked features that Scarlett might have expected in parts of the East End, but not in such a wealthy district. The young man’s expression was feral as he glared at Scarlett. He opened his mouth wide, hissing like a cat and revealing wickedly sharp fangs. Then, without warning, he leapt at her.

Scarlett whirled automatically, avoiding the move while dropping to one knee. It meant that the vampire’s dive took it over her head, so that it rolled, coming to its feet. Several people in the surrounding crowd cried out in fear, while one or two began to call out for a constable. While they were busy doing that, Gordon lashed out at the vampire with his cane. The creature dodged back, but it gave him the opportunity to draw his blade. He lunged at the vampire, a perfect thrust in the Italian style, and skewered it, recovering elegantly into an en garde position.

The vampire just ignored it, stepping forward to swing a punch at Gordon. Gordon dodged the blow barely, thrusting his sword home again, and again, it made no difference to the creature. It did, however, mean that its attention was not on Scarlett. That allowed Scarlett to reach under her skirts and draw the dagger she had there.

The vampire seemed to sense her doing it, whirling to face her while ignoring another blow from Gordon. Gordon, seeming to sense the futility of sword work, used the cane sheath of the thing instead, striking one of the vampire’s knees as it tried to leap at Scarlett once more. That brought its leap short, and Scarlett managed to slash at it with the knife, opening a wound that had it screaming its anger and pain.

“Oh, you felt that one, did you?” Scarlett asked.

The vampire’s answer was to swing a rapid blow at her head. Scarlett did not bother trying to parry it. She knew she would not be strong enough. Instead, she did the one thing the vampire could not have been expecting, stepping inside the blow completely, just inches from those waiting fangs of his. It would have been suicide, except that Scarlett had the blade she held up at heart level as she did it.

She felt the knife slide home under the ribcage, and there was just time to see the vampire’s eyes widen in shock before it was gone, vanished into a cloud of silvery dust. Some of it settled on Scarlett’s dress, and she did her best to brush it off.

Around her, one or two people looked on with shock, but a couple muttered about how that kind of street performance was all right for other markets, but wasn’t really appropriate there, while a few even applauded. Apparently, it was the only way they could explain people who vanished into thin air. Scarlett quickly put her knife away as best she could without attracting further attention, while Gordon sheathed his sword.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. Around them, the crowds went back to their shopping.

“I’m fine,” Scarlett replied, “though I wish I hadn’t had to kill the creature. This way, we will never know whether that vampire was working alone, or if it was under instructions from the Order. I should have found a way to question it.”

“You should,” a voice from beside them said, and Scarlett turned as Tavian approached. The young gypsy man looked tired, as though he had not slept. “Though I think that if you had delayed, the vampire would have ended up harming you.”

“Who is this?” Gordon asked, moving forward just a little.

“Tavian,” Scarlett said. “How are you? How is the search for your sister going?”

Tavian shook his head. “Not well. There is no sign of her anywhere I was able to look. I asked around the camp. I thought someone might have seen something. No one had.” He nodded towards Gordon. “Is this another detective, or perhaps one of Lord Darthmoor’s friends?”

He said that with an obvious note of caution, not to mention a suspicious glance towards Gordon.

“Neither yet,” Gordon said carefully, “but I could be both. Who are
you
?”

“Tavian is Cecilia’s brother,” Scarlett said hurriedly, deciding that she needed to effect proper introductions quickly if she was going to avoid difficulties between the young men.

“The girl you are trying to find?” Gordon asked.

“Exactly. Tavian, meet Gordon. Gordon and I have been friends for years, and I imagine my parents asked him to come back to London to keep me out of trouble.”

“He is like a brother to you?” Tavian asked.

“Yes, exactly.”

“Very well. Now, we should walk, before someone decides that what happened here was not simply entertainment, and you have to answer questions that will be difficult to answer.”

Scarlett nodded. She certainly did not want attention from the police. Not because she had done anything wrong, but because that was the sort of scandal that would undoubtedly have her parents demanding she stop her involvement in the case. She, Tavian and Gordon started to move away through the market. As they did so, Tavian spoke in low tones to Scarlett.

“You should know, I was able to find out one thing about my sister.”

“What is that?” Scarlett asked.

“You understand, she is still my sister, and I must do what I can to keep her safe.”

Scarlett nodded. “I know that.”

“But I believe that she is not the innocent victim in this she appears. I looked through some of her things, trying to find out more about the ring she had taken. I… I do not believe she took it simply because she believed it should rightfully belong to our people. Maybe a little, but not completely.”

Scarlett thought about questioning Tavian on that, but for now at least, the right thing to do seemed to be to wait.

“I think,” Tavian said after a few seconds, “that Cecilia was paid to get the ring. I think that she was in trouble, and that she was working for someone else, along with Lord Darthmoor.”

“Someone who belongs to the Order?” Scarlett guessed. It was too much of a potential coincidence otherwise.

Tavian nodded. “I think so. I cannot be sure, but who else could it be?”

Scarlett tried to think that through. If what Tavian had said turned out to be true, then was Cecilia in more or less danger? An employer would be less likely to hurt her, but then, if things were that simple, why kidnap her? It might be that the Order had decided she was no longer useful to them, in which case, Cecilia might conceivably be dead already. There was no way of knowing.