The Girl With the Iron Touch (24 page)

“She says you have wasted enough time. You are to open the human’s skull and remove his brain.”

“Look, bucket head, this is not the same as replacing a faulty cog, do ye understand? I have to prepare him for removal of his brain and insertion of Garibaldi’s. Plus, I have to get Garibaldi’s brain out of his skull. This would be so much easier if you intelligently superior bits of tin had thought to submerse just his brain in the vat rather than his entire body.”

She didn’t have to turn around to know the spider’s eyes were blinking again. “You will be linked with the Master during the procedure. He will guide you and us.”

“Until his brain is removed from his skull. Then what?” When that practically blank head tilted again, Emily resisted the urge to punch it. “Just get out of my way.” What did it matter? It wasn’t going to turn out how any of them wanted. Emily was never going to be allowed to just walk away from all of this. Even if she did exactly what he wanted and was successful at the brain transplant, he’d kill her to keep her quiet. And by the time anyone realized Sam had been replaced by someone more scientifically minded than he had been previously—not to mention completely mad—it would be too late. Everyone who could have stopped him would be dead.

Such cheerful thoughts she had!

She washed her hands with the Listerine after donning a smock over her clothing. Then, she made a show of readying the machines that would keep Sam’s body alive once she’d removed his brain. As she prepared, the spider plugged itself into Garibaldi and then waited for her to take her place by the cot.

Emily had to admit that were the situation different and it wasn’t Sam who was in danger, or Garibaldi the donor, she’d have been all aflutter with nervous excitement. Could she really transplant a brain into another body and have it work?

Cold metal pincers tugged the hem of her shirt free from her trousers and slipped beneath the linen and her waistcoat to press against the flesh of her back. Once they forged a connection she wouldn’t be able to worry about Sam or think dark thoughts. She had to pretend she was really going to kill the one person who meant more to her than her own life.

“Begin, mother,” the automaton instructed. The spider clacked, and the little onion-shaped one darted about monitoring various things. That was when she noticed that all of them had small rectangular boxes on their backs. Boxes with receiving concaves on top of them.

Aether waves. Bloody hell, the bunch of them could not only communicate with each other, but she’d wager her left hand that they would be able to use the spider as a hub through which they could all interact with their master. One mistake, one wrong thought, and it was all over, not just for herself but for Sam, too.

Brilliant.

The underground of London was a vast, labyrinth of tunnels, sewers, rivers, Roman ruins and plague pits. There was an equal amount of treasure mixed with rubbish, sometimes side by side. It was a dangerous place, but a solitary one. If a person didn’t want to be found, the underground was a brilliant place to hide.

The Machinist didn’t want to be found.

There was a lot of underground beneath Russell Square. The group split up into pairs to search for Garibaldi’s lair. Mila refused to go with anyone but Jack, which was fine because that kept Cat and Jasper together, and Finley remained with Griffin. They each wore an earbud designed by Emily so they could hear one another speak.

They followed a disused bit of track that had been closed due to improvements on the line. It seemed the logical place, as Garibaldi would want privacy for whatever it was he had planned.

“How did he survive?” Finley asked Griffin as they walked. It was something she should have asked days ago. “We saw that building fall.”

“I have no idea. I should have been better prepared for something like this. As soon as we were told his body hadn’t been recovered, I should have known he wasn’t done with us.”

“Yes, you should have known. After all, you’re omnipotent.”

He shot her a narrow glance in the light of their torches. “You know, sarcasm can be a very unattractive trait.”

“So can being a martyr.”

They stared at each other a moment. Griffin was the first to laugh, but Finley wasn’t far behind. They lapsed into comfortable silence that lasted about a minute.

Griffin cleared his throat. “Fin, I know this isn’t exactly the best time for this, but I want you to know that I respect you. I don’t want to ever pressure you into doing anything—”

“Oh, my Lord, are you talking about sex?” Her voice dropped from a surprised outburst to a whisper on the last word.

She thought maybe he flushed, but it was hard to tell. “Well, yes.”

“Griffin, we don’t need to discuss this.” Especially not at that moment!

“It’s just that our relationship has changed and I can’t seem to stop thinking about kissing you…I want you, Finley.”

Her throat was dry and her knees trembled. “I want—” She whipped her head to her left. “Did you hear that?”

“Turn off your torch,” Griffin whispered as his own went dark.

Finley did as instructed, just seconds before he pushed her gently into the shadows. Her back came up against the rough wall, but her steel corset protected her clothing and skin. Griffin was pressed against her from chest to toe. The sweet, vaguely spicy scent of him enveloped her, but she kept her ears sharp.

There it was again—the sound of a heavy door opening and closing. Was that the ting of metal on metal that came next?

Griffin was little more than a shadow despite their closeness. She felt him turn his head toward her, felt the brush of his hair against her temple as he lowered his head to whisper against her ear, “Automatons. Garibaldi’s close. I can feel it.”

Finley shivered—and it wasn’t because of Garibaldi. She nodded, knowing Griffin could feel the gesture against his cheek. They would have to rally the others, but not until they were certain they could do so without alerting the machines of their presence. They had no idea if Garibaldi had human assistants, as well.

Griffin’s breath brushed warmly against her neck. Her heart hammered hard against her ribs. Her hand— the one not holding a torch—came up to rest on his back, which was lean and firm beneath his coat.

His hand curved around her hip as his lips touched her jaw. Finley turned her head, her fingers bunching the back of his coat in an effort to keep her knees from giving out.

Their lips touched—just a faint whisper. A tease, really.

“Sam and Emily,” she murmured, a reminder to them both.

Griffin’s forehead rested against hers. “I know. But we’re going to continue this later.”

“That had better be a promise.”

He chuckled, a husky sound that brushed against her cheek. “Oh, it is.”

Holding hands, they pressed their backs to the wall and slowly sidestepped forward until they reached a turn in the track.

Finley peered around the corner. There was more light here—mostly because of the hulking monstrosity before her.

It looked like no train engine she’d ever seen, but that was exactly what it was. It was a huge automaton that looked like a kneeling child. Its “legs” and “hands” had opened to reveal train wheels, which rested on the track. She recognized it as a modified “docker”—an automaton used to load large cargo onto ships in port.

That had to be how they managed to abandon their previous lair so quickly and completely. This thing loaded everything into the cars and then transformed into the engine. It was genius, really.

And slightly terrifying.

“How do we get around that thing?” she whispered.

Griffin took a peek of his own. “Manual shut-down lever in its chest.”

How did he know these things? He was a duke, he shouldn’t know about labor machines.

“Right. I’ve got it.”

His fingers closed around her arm before she could leave. “If you can approach from above, its sensors shouldn’t detect you.”

Of course. Nothing was ever as simple as just walking up to a thing and doing what needed to be done. Sighing, Finley reached up and found a crevice in the wall. She pulled herself up and climbed as high as she could. Fortunately, the tunnel had been pitted and scarred from years of use and vandalism, so it wasn’t all that difficult for her to make her way to the docker.

There were lights on in the cars, especially the last one. She caught a glimpse of Emily through the window. Damnation, was that Sam on the surgical table? And what the hell was that
thing?
A mechanical spider with a doll’s head? That was so very, very wrong.

Tearing her gaze away from the abomination, Finley maneuvered herself so she could drop right down onto the docker. Its metal had long ago lost its sheen, and the rough surface gave her thick-soled boots enough traction for her to climb down to its shoulders. From there, she draped herself forward, toward the panel in the center of its chest.

Once she was within reach, she wasted no time popping the panel and pulling the lever. Hesitation was not something one did when dealing with a machine this big. The faint glow in its eyes faded as its power cells shut down.

Finley dropped to the track between the huge machine’s knees. Griffin joined her seconds later. “Brilliant,” he praised with a kiss on the forehead. His voice remained a whisper. “I sent word to the others. They’ll meet us here. None of them are very far off.”

They kept out of sight from the cars. While they waited, Finley watched as Griffin took from his pocket a small device that looked like a small metal matchbox. It made a low whispering noise that was positively eerie.

He caught her watching. “Aetheric frequency disruptor. It will mask my Aetheric signature so that Garibaldi won’t sense me coming.”

“He can do that?”

“Given that he found me in New York I’m going to assume that, yes, he can. I could probably find his if I had the luxury of time to look.”

Any other circumstance and she might have smiled at his defensiveness, but Garibaldi was simply too much of a threat for levity. “Have you ever used one of those before?”

“No, but it works in theory.”

That did nothing for her confidence. “He could know you’re here now. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Maybe, though I doubt it at this distance with all the rock and metal around.”

He was so calm when his life was in danger, it made her want to slap him. Now she knew how he felt most of the time.

Muscles tense, on alert for any manner of attack, Finley spent the next ten minutes in a state of peevish irritation waiting for their friends to arrive. Patience was not one of the few virtues she possessed, unlike Griffin, who could probably outwait time itself.

Jasper and Cat were first. Cat, with her agility and clawlike fingernails, scampered up the wall with far more ease and grace than Finley had, and silently did a little scouting work as the rest of them waited for Jack and Mila.

Jack came out of the darkness like he was a prince of this place—an actual shadow come to life. Mila looked around cautiously. Was she worried to be in the place, up against her creator? Was she going to betray them? Finley couldn’t help but wonder at the girl’s loyalty. After all, she’d been a machine longer than she’d been anything close to human.

But the girl had her eyes, and a person knew their own eyes after a lifetime of seeing them stare back at you in the mirror. If Mila did plan to betray them, she hid it extremely well. What she did not hide was her infatuation with Jack. Was that how Finley looked at Griffin? She hoped not.

Cat returned after a couple of moments, dropping silently to the ground in a crouch. “Four automatons in the first car,” she informed them in hushed tones. “Three in the last where Emily and Sam are. Also, there’s something that looks like a big tank with a man in it.”

Griffin drew back. “Other than this man in a tank, you saw no other humans?”

“Besides Emily and Sam, no. The fella in the tank is in pretty rough shape. And Sam’s laid out on a cot. Looks like Emily’s going to do some sort of procedure on him.”

Both Jasper and Finley turned to Griffin, who had gone pale. “Griff?” Jasper asked.

But Finley had already jumped to her own conclusion. “He can’t…”

Griffin nodded. “He wants Emily to put his brain in Sam’s body. It’s the only explanation.”

“What is it with mad scientist buggers who want to stick brains in places they don’t belong?” She spoke a little louder than intended, but this wasn’t her first encounter with brain removal. It was a nasty business.

“We have to stop this,” Griffin told them. “We have to stop it now. Emily’s not going to do anything to hurt Sam, and her abilities don’t work as well on fully sentient machines. If she betrays Garibaldi, his cabal will retaliate.”

“Let’s go then,” Jasper suggested. “Whose takin’ care of what?”

“Jasper, Jack and Cat, the three of you should take out the automatons in the first car. Mila, I want you with Finley and myself. We need to take out Garibaldi’s lieutenants and will need the extra strength if Sam isn’t able to fight or needs to be carried out.”

Mila looked nervously at Jack. He gave her a small smile and a nod. “Give ’em hell, Poppet.”

Finley turned away, directing her attention at the train. “Let’s get this done, then.” She climbed up the docker with Mila and Griffin hot on her heels as the others set their own mission into play.

This time she was going to make sure Garibaldi stayed dead.

Blood ran down Sam’s forehead. Emily mopped at it with a cloth, but head wounds were notorious for bleeding more than necessary. Knowing this didn’t ease her guilt for having cut him in the first place. He didn’t even flinch, though she felt him press the back of his hand against her leg.

Metal Face wheeled a smaller vat of goo over to the Machinist’s tank. “You will put the Master’s brain in this, to preserve it until you place it into the vessel.”

She was going to rip out every cog and gear and moving part this arse of a machine possessed and melt them down for scrap. However, it had just given her an excuse to stop hurting Sam.

And, more importantly, to end Garibaldi. “Fine. He will need to be removed from the tank.”