The Chosen (34 page)

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Authors: Theresa Meyers

BOOK: The Chosen
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Sephie screamed, and Marley felt the both of them yanked viciously backward. “I want that key!” Thadeus hissed.
She scrabbled with her clothing, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a vial of clear liquid. With one smooth movement of her thumb, she popped the rubber stopper out and tossed the liquid at Thadeus. He let go, howling in protest and clawing at his face as chunks of flesh turned first into a bloody pulp and then charred.
Marley spied Binky clanking and whirring in their direction. Rather than take a chance he’d be inclined to mash them flat, Marley doubled back toward the lab, past his writhing cousin, Sephie in tow behind him.
“Where the blazes are you going? The exit is that way!”
“Yes, and the airship is this way.”
He pulled down a huge lever in the wall, and the large seam in the center of the smaller room off to the side of the main laboratory began to widen, opening to the night sky. “Help me get the tarps off!”
Together they pulled at the heavy canvas sheeting that covered his machine, which had a gondola the size of a phaeton. Part aeronautic carriage, part dirigible, part energy manipulation machine, it was their best chance to get up and away from whatever it was that had taken over Thadeus and seemed to be relentless in pursuing Sephie and the key she wore.
“Get in!”
She scrambled over the wicker edge of the gondola in a flurry of petticoats and rolled into the basket beneath the balloon. Marley climbed in and fired up the propellers. Using electromagnetic energy to heat the water for the steam boilers ensured the water heated almost instantly, providing ready access to steam.
Thadeus came limping toward them. Bile rose bitter and acidic in the back of Marley’s throat to see the damage his cousin had suffered. Out of habit and curiosity he leaned toward him, but Sephie grabbed Marley’s arm, jerking him away as she said urgently, “He’s trapped in his own body right now. The demon controls him. He’ll kill you with his bare hands and not be able to stop himself. Don’t think for a moment the demon will allow him pity or remorse. It’s here to do a job: kill us and take the key.”
Marley stiffened his resolve and his upper lip and removed the anchor rope holding the craft down as the balloon swelled upward. It grew until it was ten times larger than the gondola and lifted them out of the open hatch into the night air.
He had to carefully adjust the direction of the propellers to keep the balloon from snagging on the wrought iron edging and ragged bits of slate that fashioned the roofline of Bostwick House.
While Thadeus cursed and jumped, scrabbling for a hold on them, Marley noted the dark shadows shifting through and filling the gardens. They weren’t ordinary shadows, of that he was sure.
Sephie peered over the edge. “More demons,” she muttered. “It looks as though your laboratory isn’t as safe as we thought.”
“Clearly.” He peered sharply at her. “What will become of my family?”
“The Legion will be here shortly and help them. I’m sure that the minute Father dispatched the demons at our home he sent word for us to be followed and protected.”
They rose still higher, the gas streetlights of London barely visible through the pervasive coal-smoke haze that perpetually hung in the air. Fog rolled in off the Thames, and as they climbed still higher, they lost sight of the city altogether.
A strong breeze whipped along the gondola, and the steady
whop, whop, whop
of the wooden propellers created a soothing noise that made their daring escape seem that much more surreal.
 
 
Sephie wrapped her delicate hands over the wooden rails of the wicker gondola, looking down on a world that seemed much more peaceful, more serene than it should. The shroud of dark, smoky air beneath them gave way to clearer skies over the country as they headed north.
The warmth of Marley standing behind her kept the shivers at bay. Their escape had been by his ingenuity and her knowledge of Hunter lore. The countryside spread out beneath them, making her very aware just how lucky she was to be with the one man in all of England who could outsmart the Darkin without any Legion training. They would be a fine pair, once she convinced her father to let her marry Marley—if he proposed.
He placed a hand on either side of the rail, holding her in the circle of his arms. “Are you certain you aren’t hurt?” he asked softly, dipping his head to speak softly beside her ear.
“Nothing but a few scratches.”
“That’s good. I couldn’t bear if anything happened to you.”
She turned to face him, putting their mouths within inches of each other. Her lips tingled at the memory of what kissing him was like. The moonlight, unfiltered by fog and soot-laden air, cast his strong features in stark relief.
Sephie had never had a man give her his full attention in this way, as if she were the sun and the planets all revolved around her. It was quite a heady thing. “Have you come to care for me that quickly?”
“More than you know.” His gaze dropped for a second. He shoved his right hand in the small upper breast pocket of his vest and pulled out a bit of white tissue paper. The edge of it fluttered in the breeze. “I meant to give this to you this afternoon at your father’s house. I asked his permission to court you.”
He carefully peeled back the folded layers of tissue, exposing a simple gold oval locket on an elegant chain. “I wasn’t positive how your father would take my request, especially after learning he entertained Frobisher’s suit for your hand.”
“But I don’t want Frobisher,” she interrupted. “You know that.”
“I do. But the question remains if your father will see me as a suitable match for you after all this. I think it’ll rest on the success of the electric cannon.”
Sephie huffed. “I don’t think it will matter. He hasn’t a choice now, has he? We’re together. Alone. Unchaperoned. After we spend a night together traveling to Northumberland, I hardly think he can in all good conscience reject a proposal, no matter how your experiment goes.”
Marley’s sculpted lips spread into a genuine smile, the kind a boy gives when his dearest Christmas wish has been fulfilled. “I know this isn’t a ring, but I thought you might wish to choose that for yourself.”
Sephie lifted the locket from the paper. The golden oval wobbled back and forth in the breeze. “Marley Turlock, are you making me an offer of marriage?”
“I certainly am. I know I’ll never meet another woman who has your combination of kind heart and inquisitive mind. You are truly one of a kind, and I love you and want you to be my wife.”
Her stomach flipped and a giddy, fizzing sensation spread out to every cell. This was what joy and freedom felt like. Pure, undarkened, unbridled. She smiled, reaching up on tiptoe to brush her lips against his.
He pulled back slightly. “Is that a yes?”
She kissed him harder. “Of course that’s a yes, no matter what befalls us. Will you put the necklace on me?”
Marley unlatched the chain and slipped the locket around her neck. “I thought we might put a picture of you and me in it to keep the pictures of us close to your heart.”
Sephie smiled warmly at him, her fingers slipping over the locket. “You just remember you’re mine while you’re at those fancy royal balls and bestowed with honors, once you test that invention of yours and become world famous, and we have all these amazing adventures together. I’m one in a million, Sir Turlock, and I loved you even when you were just a mere inventor.”
“How could I ever forget? I doubt you’ll let me,” he teased in return.
“You’re right. I never will.” This time Marley cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her soundly.
Sephie could barely breathe. She didn’t want to. She wanted this moment to last. But when he finally broke the connection between them she gazed up in the warm chocolate eyes of the man she loved. “What was that for?”
He gently took a curl of her hair and smoothed it between his fingers, adoration in his gaze. “Because, Lady Persephone Hargrieve, I’ll never get enough of you.”
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
 
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
 
Copyright © 2013 by Theresa Meyers
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
 
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
 
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4201-2126-1
 

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