Kate Cross - Touch of Steel

Every Warden at the table raised his or her right hand and said, “Aye.” That was when Alastair noticed a familiar face at the table—too familiar. It was his mother. What the hell was she doing there? In that moment he forgot his anger at Dhanya. She’d purposefully put his mother on the conclave. He could kiss her.

“Bring the prisoner in,” Dhanya instructed the guards.

Alastair’s breath seized in his chest as the door in the back of the chamber opened. Claire came into the room, flanked by two guards. She wore a pair of black trousers, tucked into high black boots, and a violet shirt under a black waistcoat; her hair was pinned up in a loose knot. She looked thin and tired, but she was still so beautiful, the sight of her shoved his heart into his throat. Her large green eyes looked up, widening when they caught sight of him. Had she thought he’d lied? That he wouldn’t come?

The flicker of hope in her expression cut him to the quick. This had to work. He’d break her out of the damn place if he had to. He’d dig her out with a spoon and a butter knife if need be.

Claire was put in a chair separate from the conclave table. A metal man stood on either side of her, but she wasn’t restrained. That was a good sign—he hoped. The automatons were standard human-sized models with visual sensors set around their heads, and a voice box. They weren’t sentient—thank God—but they were programmed so meticulously, and by such incredible minds, that they unsettled many people with their humanlike behavior.

The proceedings began with Dhanyaan s, that t addressing Claire. “Miss Brooks, you understand that this meeting has been called to decide whether or not you are to remain in Warden custody or be set free, yes?”

Claire nodded. “I do.”

“Then you understand the importance of truth during this trial? And you swear to give it?” One of the guards held a Bible in front of Claire’s chest as the other clamped a leather and brass glove over her hand and wrist. The glove was attached to a box that looked like the bottom of a phonograph, but it held a large pad of paper rather than a brass cylinder.

“That’s one of mine,” Arden whispered. She might as well have been yelling, so close was she to Alastair’s augmented ear. “It detects changes in body chemistry and pulse rate to determine if a person is lying or telling the truth.”

Alastair glanced at her, trying not to grin at her excited expression. The machine was already scratching on the paper. “I know.” It would help their case if the conclave had proof of Claire’s truthfulness.

God help them if she lied.

Claire placed her hand on the Bible. “I swear.” The machine drew another series of arcs on the pad.

“Good. Then we can begin. Miss Brooks, how long have you been a Company operative?”

“My brother and I were recruited when I was fifteen years old. Thirteen years ago.”

Fifteen. And Alastair’s father had told him that seventeen was too young.

“Did you want to join the Company?” Dhanya asked.

Claire shrugged. “We were poor and had no family. Robert—my brother—said we’d be taken care of, that it would be like being onstage all the time. I didn’t care what we did so long as we ate.”

It was easy to tell how uncomfortable she was being so candid in front of these strangers, and Alastair could have kissed her for it. Dhanya asked a few more questions, the answers to which all painted Claire in a sympathetic light.

“How many Wardens have you killed, Miss Brooks?” asked Lord Ashford, the man who had stood in as director while Dhanya was gone. He was a crusty old Whig who looked as though he’d died five years ago but hadn’t had the courtesy to leave his body. Bastard.

“I don’t know,” Claire replied calmly. “I’ve never counted.”

Ashford lifted his hooked nose and stared down it at her.

Alastair clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of Luke’s gaze upon him. He didn’t dare glance at his friend. Instead, he looked at Claire.

“I’m told the count is somewhere between six and a dozen, Miss Brooks.” Ashford sniffed. All that disdain must have been clogging his nasal passages.

“I’m sure I’d remember killing that many people, my lord, and I don’t.”

“Their deaths may have been caused by your actions.”

Claire kept her gaze on the old man, her expression blank. “And in nk.e="Palatinyour day, sir, how many people died because of your doing what you considered your duty?”

Ashford’s lips tightened, but he didn’t ask any more questions. Claire had made her point, but Ashford had done his damage as well.

The questioning of Claire went on for an hour, culminating with the events that had brought her and Alastair together. They were a long way from finished, but Claire looked ready to drop. Dhanya noticed as well, because she instructed one of the guards to bring her some tea. Then the trial resumed.

“Miss Brooks,” Dhanya asked, “what did you plan to do to Stanton Howard when you found him?”

“I was going to kill him,” Claire replied. “I blamed him for the murder of my brother, and I wanted revenge. I chased him to London, but he shot me and pulled me off a building. Then I was captured by the Wardens.”

“He tried to kill you, even though he knew what you did not—that you were his sister?”

A flicker of pain crossed Claire’s face. “Yes.”

Evie made a soft sound of sympathy, and Alastair gave her hand a squeeze. She squeezed back.

Dhanya continued. “You volunteered to lead our agents to Howard and Reginald DeVane, the man known as the Doctor?”

“Yes. I knew they were headed north to a house party. I wanted to see them both pay for what they’d done.”

“Because you thought they had killed your brother?”

“Yes.” Claire glanced at Luke. “And because the Doctor had harmed a friend of mine.”

Out of the corner of his eye Alastair saw Luke smile slightly at Claire. Under different circumstances, he would have been tempted to punch him for it, but there was no place for jealousy here.

The questioning went on to Claire’s and Alastair’s setting off to find Robert Brooks. Fortunately, no questions were asked in regards to their relationship. Dhanya managed to be thorough without bringing that up. “You seriously injured Stanton Howard on board the Mary Katherine , even though you knew at that point he was your brother. Why?”

Color bloomed in Claire’s pale cheeks, but she didn’t look at him. “He had injured Lord Wolfred and was going to kill him. I couldn’t let him do that.”

Dhanya turned to the table. “I would like the conclave to take note that not only did Miss Brooks injure her own brother, but that she risked her life to save that of Lord Wolfred. Her part in that operation yielded valuable information, and it recovered sensitive secrets that could have been disastrous had they fallen into the wrong hands. Upon her return to Warden custody, Miss Brooks has given her full cooperation and spent many hours answering questions concerning her years as a Company operative. She has made it perfectly clear that she no longer holds any allegiance to that agency or its operatives.”

“And you believe her, Madam Director?” It was Alastair’s own mother who asked this, but he wasn’t surprised. In fact, he was rather impressed. Forcing Dhanya to give her own opinion would certainly carry weight with the rest of the conclave.

Dhanya’s gaze drifted from one Warden to the next. “I do.”

A silent, joyous cheer sounded in Alastair’s mind.

The focus shifted now to witnesses. Dhanya called Evie first, who testified to Claire’s behavior when she was first brought into custody. She related that Claire never tried to escape or attempted to harm anyone.