The Clockwork Wolf (20 page)

“He fell for you.”

“Like a headsman's axe.” Her mouth tightened. “I had no feelings for him, and after a proper interval intended to refuse him. When Caroline learned of his offer it sent her into a panic. She deliberately compromised Raynard, who thankfully for her sake was honorable enough to marry her. It was a most unhappy match, and she has not improved it by clinging to the belief that her husband still pines for me. But I cannot imagine that would compel her to see me ruined, not after all these years.”

“You're a widow now,” I reminded her. “Everyone is expecting you to remarry immediately. Ruining your reputation is probably the only way she believes she can prevent you from stealing her husband.”

“Only Caroline Raynard could be so ridiculous.” She tied off the linen strip round my wrist. “You did not inform her that I am expecting Bestly's heir, I hope?”

I smiled. “Milady, I didn't breathe a word.”

“Excellent. She will stew in her own bile.” As the front door bell chimed, she rose and went over to the window to look out. “It is the patrolman. The Yard inspector is with him.”

“How convenient.” I sank down a little in the chair.

•   •   •

“It is not a crime to call on a client,” I informed Inspector Doyle as I was marched into the station house. “Nor is it against the law to be the victim of an unprovoked attack.”

Doyle said nothing in response to me; he muttered something to his driver, who trotted off in another direction.

“Two unprovoked attacks, to be precise.” I ignored the other cops staring at me as we passed their desks and tried instead to look righteously piteous. Since my arm hung in a sling, and my rumpled gown was covered with dirt and blood- and grass stains, I thought I must look convincing. “The patrolman must have explained what happened.”

“Aye, he did.” Doyle stopped in front of a locked door and removed a ring of keys. “He told me how you rode to the Hill on horseback, how you concealed your mount several blocks from your destination, and how you sent him away just before these unprovoked attacks.”

I smiled with relief. “So you understand it was absolutely none of my doing and you have no reason to arrest me.” I frowned. “So why have you dragged me down here?”

“You've been a very busy gel.” He opened the door, pushed me inside, relocked it, and pointed to one of two chairs flanking a bare desk. “Take a seat.”

“Inspector, I'm not—”

“Sit. Down.”

I sat.

He did not do the same, but elected to pace round the table, over to the window, back to the table, and then made a complete turn round the room.

The only way to handle this was with wounded dignity. I even had the wounds. “You cannot detain me because you're annoyed with me.”

“Annoyed.” He regarded the cracked base of the lamp hanging over the table. “I have received three complaints tonight. One from your neighbor, Mr. Cartwright, about his horse, Daisy that, according to his wife, you stole.”

“I told her to say that,” I corrected, “if he found out. She lent the mare to me.”

He took a folded paper from his pocket and tossed it onto the desk. “Did you tell the mayor of Rumsen to issue an arrest warrant charging you with assaulting his wife?”

“What?” I shot to my feet. “That's absolute rubbish. I didn't assault her, I saved her from the first Wolfman.”

Doyle regarded me. “So it was the Wolfman who dragged her to her carriage and bodily threw her inside.”

“Yes. No.” I had to think. “It was her footman. Chap named Hawkins.” I thought again. “I may have assisted him. A very little. One push at the most.”

“Of course.” Doyle closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You said there were three complaints,” I reminded him. “So what's the third bit of nonsense?”

He opened his eyes. “Lord Lucien Dredmore has accused you of bespelling and abducting his driver.”

“Did he.” A faint red haze seemed to cloud my vision, but my face had turned burning hot. “I presume he has witnesses?”

“Several.” He sat down. “They're coming in to give their statements in the morning.” He tossed the key ring onto the table. “There's more to it.”

I bared my teeth. “With Dredmore, there generally is.”

“His lordship is willing to drop all charges,” Doyle said, “on one condition.”

I was going to kill Lucien again, and this time I wasn't going to bring him back. No, this time, I'd dance on his grave. “What does he want?”

He watched my eyes. “For you to personally apologize to the driver.”

I nodded and rolled my good hand, encouraging him to tell me the rest of Dredmore's nonsense.

He looked away. “You must do this at Morehaven, before tomorrow dawn.”

I started to laugh. I couldn't help it; it was that or explode. My face went red, my eyes blurred, my sides ached, and still I couldn't stop.

“All right, that's enough of that.” Doyle crouched down in front of me, taking hold of my shoulders and giving me a firm shake. “I'll slap you if I must.”

I clamped my mouth shut and shook a few times before I finally controlled my mirth. “Sorry,” I gasped out, almost strangling on the word.

“Let me look at this.” He untied the sling Lady Bestly had fashioned for me. As he unfolded he asked, “How did you hurt your arm?”

“I was bitten by the second one, who had brass fangs. Do you know what that means? The bastard who has been making them, he knew I'd break the transformation spell.” I let out one desperate giggle before dragging in a deep breath. “So this time he pulled out all the poor sod's teeth and replaced them with mech.”

Doyle met my watery gaze. “Tell me the bastard's name, Kit. Tell me and I'll bring him in, tonight.”

He'd try to, and Lykaon would have his own chuckle before he ordered his ghastly soldiers to tear Tommy to pieces. “I don't know.”

“Damn you, Kit.” He took hold of my face, his fingers tight on my jaw. “You can't fight this man on your own. Help me put an end to the madness before you do get your throat torn out.”

Looking into his blue eyes, so clear and true, made my heart shrivel. “I've told you everything I know, Inspector.”

He released me, rose, and walked to the door. I watched his back tense as he turned and strode back to drag me to my feet, and then his mouth was on mine.

I didn't resist the kiss; I didn't want to. Being in Doyle's arms made me feel safe and protected, two sensations I didn't often enjoy. Then what he did to my mouth made my whole body wake up and take notice. My childhood friend no more—Tommy was a man of ferocious passions, hidden away beneath the mask of the cop, but now turned loose.

He ended it with a wrench of his head that made us both gasp. “I shouldn't have done that.”

“Terribly unprofessional of you.” I pressed against him, wanting more. “But then I'm wrinkling your jacket.”

“It'll press.” He ran one hand over my head, looking all over my face. “I know how it's been for you. You've had to rely on yourself for so long you've forgotten how to trust. But you can trust in me, Kit. I won't abandon you.”

“I'm not your responsibility, Tommy.” I then demonstrated my unshakable independence by resting my head
against his shoulder. In my defense, it was beginning to spin. “Even if I was, you wouldn't want me. I'm a forfeit, not a prize.”

“You don't know what I want.”

“I know what I need. A new arm.” Mine was beginning to burn as if it were on fire. “Do you have a physick on staff?”

Someone hammered on the door, making me push away from him, but Doyle held on to me as he turned his head. “Not now.”

“Get stuffed,” a familiar voice replied as the door slammed open. “Kit? Are you all right?”

I peeked over his shoulder at Rina and felt my legs wobble. “I don't know.”

Darkness filled my eyes so abruptly that I thought I'd fainted again. Only when Doyle muttered something about the lights and moved away from me did I realize they'd all gone out at the same time; the entire station had gone dark.

Voices went as still as the air, and I smelled the sea, damp and salty, coming into the room. A glimmer of rainbow-shot blue flashed, and a feather brushed my cheek.

“Who are you?” I asked, turning my head and squinting, but unable to make out more. “What are you doing here?”

“Kit?” That was Rina, and she sounded furious—and very far away.

A cape of blue feathers enveloped me, and hard, cold hands wrapped something long and prickly round my wrenched arm. I should have pulled away, but I
couldn't stop looking at the pale eyes in that dark face.

“The tree-man stole the War Heart from us,” the native murmured as he tightened the thing round my arm. “You return this to the Alone.”

I didn't understand most of what he was saying, but I knew one thing. “I don't have it.”

“You will.” He drew his thumb across my brow, sending some powder to shower down my face. “Now you sleep.”

Since I didn't have enough sense to hold my breath that was exactly what I did.

“I can't wake her,” Rina said somewhere near me. “I think that native at the station must have slipped her something.”

“How long has she been like this?” That was Dredmore, and he sounded even angrier than Rina.

“Since I took her from the cops.” Footsteps came close. “You'll be gentle.”

“Always.”

I opened one eye to a slit. The bed I occupied was large, sheeted, and canopied by gray silk, and smelled of sandalwood. The spike-and-fist crest embroidered on the pillowcase's hem confirmed my location.

Somehow I'd gone from police custody to Lucien's bed—but why would Rina deliver me to him?

“Why did you bring her to Morehaven?” Dredmore asked, as if he could hear my thoughts.

“So she could apologize to your bloody driver, what do you think?” My best friend's hand gently touched my brow. “I know Kit doesn't believe in magic, but with all that's happened to her it has to be a curse or something evil. I don't like you, but you're a deathmage, and you fancy her. To my mind you're the best chance she's got.”

“I am the only chance she has.” The bed dipped on
my right, and larger, stronger hands took hold of my arm. “Did you see the native who did this?”

Rina made a disgusted sound. “No one did. That shaman put out all the lights and used some sort of confounding spell on the rest of us before he went to work on Kit. We found her on the floor.”

Dredmore was still touching me. “I will have to remove this.”

Now I opened my eyes. “You're not taking off my arm. I'm rather attached to it.” I glanced down and saw that he was unwrapping a gray and white fur from the offending appendage. “Father and Son, what is this?”

“A native dressing, I believe.” Dredmore caught my hand and pushed it away. “No, let me see what was done.”

As he did, I glared at Rina over his head. “Perhaps he should look at your head next. The shaman must have nicked your brains.”

“Without some help you're going to die, you daft twit.” She leaned over Dredmore's shoulder, nodding as he bared my arm. “She's not bleeding. Maybe he meant only to heal her.”

“Then why would he do it in the dark?” I demanded. All I could see were bits of bone strung on some sort of vine that had been wrapped from my elbow to wrist. “Cut them off,” I told Dredmore.

“Calm yourself.” He took out a blade and sliced through the vine. As soon as he freed me I sat up and pushed aside the coverlet. “You're too weak to get up.”

“Piss off.” I swung my legs over, stood, and wobbled for a moment before I took a step. Then I fell on purpose
into Rina's arms. “Whatever you do,” I muttered to her, “don't leave me here with him.”

“You're better off, love,” Rina murmured, patting my back. “I can't look after you in the city, not with those things chasing about after you. Besides, he's so besotted he'll do anything to keep you alive.”

“That's not exactly reassuring,” I told her.

“You know I'd stay if I could, but I'm needed at the Nest. We've an epidemic of belly gripe. Felicity won't eat, and Janice, poor gel, hasn't kept down a meal in days.” She gave Dredmore a narrow look. “I'll be back to look in on you tomorrow.”

“Your faith in me is most gratifying, madam.” Dredmore took me from her, lifting me like a child to put me back in bed. “I must have a word with your friend. You are to rest, and not to get up.” He leaned down to say the rest for my ears alone. “If you do again, I'll shackle you to the posts.”

“How kind you are.” I suddenly understood why the Wolfmen were so fond of biting. “I feel better already.”

Dredmore left with Rina, giving me an opportunity to examine my arm closely. The burning had stopped, but the flesh was still tender and the entire limb ached like a tooth going bad. My hand proved nearly useless; I could hardly bear to twitch my fingers.

With my good hand I picked up a piece of the bones the shaman had knotted round me, which bore saw marks on either end and thin vertical markings scored all round the outer edges. In the marrow hollow I found a bit of green leaf, folded tightly, and removed it. Inside the folds was a fragment of feather in the same vivid blue
as the shaman's cape. The rest of the bones held the same odd stuffing.

For the first time I felt frustrated by my ignorance of native magic. If the shaman had meant to harm me, he might have easily cut my throat in the dark. The tribes preferred that manner of attack, for it silenced the victim and put an end to him quickly. Binding my arm with this gruesome business might well have been an attempt to heal me; the shaman had killed the second Wolfman.