Colleen Gleason - The Clockwork Scarab

Was he talking to me or to my companion? Before I had the chance to respond, Pix stood. I wasn’t surprised how easily he evaded the man’s grasp. He was slick that way.

“No problem ’ere,” he said with an ingratiating smile, his hands spread innocently. Then before I could blink, his arm shifted close to his body, then jacked up in a strong, abrupt motion. The other man stiffened, his eyes widening, then slumped.

Pix caught him and eased the guard to the floor next to me.

“Good gad, is he dead?”

“Doubt it,” Pix replied, slipping something long and slender into his pocket. “Ye need t’leave,” he said, taking my arm again.

I bristled and pulled away. We were still crouched next to the hopefully-not-dead guard, and our faces were very close together. I could smell a hint of Pix’s minty scent mixed with wood smoke under the thick layer of opium.

“What do you know about the Ankh?” I had to say something to keep from getting lost in his intense gaze.

“I know nuthin’ but ’at there’s blokes been disappearin’. She’s been takin’ ’em, an’ I finally tracked ’em down—”

We looked up at the same moment to see my partner standing over us, glowering in the drassy light. “Miss Stoker, what the devil are you doing?”

I yanked her down next to us, then glanced at the other guard. He seemed oblivious to all our activity. Relieved, I turned to Miss Holmes. “I’m certain you have a plan.” I saw no need to hide my displeasure. Why couldn’t she just make things up as she went? It always worked for me.

“Of course I have a plan. We have to get through those doors there.” She pointed to the double doors that led to the Inner Circle. “And we need a distraction. Who are you?” she added.

“Ne’er min’ ’at,” Pix said, but without his usual charm. “I—”

The double doors opened abruptly, and a bright light spilled into the dim, smoky chamber. A gentleman stood in the entrance, outlined by the light as if he were an image in some holy icon. He was dressed in a long, dark coat, white shirt and shirtwaist, and trousers. He was hatless, with short blond hair gleaming in the light. He had a full, neat beard and mustache of the same color.

He didn’t look anything like the Ankh we’d seen only a week ago. But as soon as he spoke, he confirmed his identity.

“Welcome, my darlings,” said the leader of the Society of Sekhmet. “I trust you all are enjoying your evening?”

A low murmur rumbled through the chamber. Many of the young women were fully reclined, sleeping or otherwise unconscious. An uncomfortable prickle slid over my skin. Something was very wrong. But what? I sniffed from my vial again.

The Ankh laughed in a genteel, husky manner. “Very well, then, please carry on with your pleasure. I shall have need of only two of you tonight to join the Inner Circle. Who shall be the fortunate ones?”

He stepped into the chamber, using a walking stick for emphasis, and was followed by the two identical women who’d been at his side during the last meeting. My partner’s interest tensed through her body as we watched the trio walk through the lumps of cushions, stopping at one not far from ours.

“You,” intoned the Ankh, gesturing with the walking stick. “You are worthy.”

One of the servants bent and assisted a young woman to her feet. Rather than seeming apprehensive, the girl curtseyed unsteadily.

My companion hissed something under her breath, and the Ankh turned suddenly, looking in our direction. And then, as if pulled by an invisible string, he began to move toward us. One servant led the woman he’d already chosen toward the open doors while the second one accompanied her master.

I tensed as the Ankh came closer. I could leap up and attack. Easy to knock him to the ground and take on the servant at the same time. I glanced at Miss Holmes. She shook her head in a short, sharp movement. No.

What the blooming fish was wrong with her? This was our chance! I gave her a violent glare, tensing and ready to spring. My breathing steadied. I curled my fingers around the small pistol in my pocket as the Ankh came closer.

Then Pix’s fingers closed around my arm. “Nay, luv,” he breathed in my ear. “Look.”

Him too? Bristling, I turned . . . then I saw what caught his attention. The two large men who’d tried to capture us at the last Society of Sekhmet meeting stood just beyond the doorway. One of them held a shiny, evil-looking firearm.

Drat and blast! Even I couldn’t compete with a bullet. I settled back onto the cushion, trying to look unobtrusive. As he drew nearer, my pulse sped up again. Could there be a way? If he came close enough? Energy sang in my veins. I knew what to do. I could do this . . .

I cast a quick glance at Miss Holmes. She seemed hypnotized by the commanding person.

When the Ankh did the unthinkable, pausing next to us, I closed my fingers surreptitiously around the pocketed pistol again. Trying not to look directly at him, I readied myself. One . . . two . . . thr—

“You,” said the Ankh. “Come with me.”

I wasn’t about to let Miss Holmes be dragged off into whatever danger lurked behind those doors. I began to rise.

But she met my eyes, giving me a mute plea to wait. I stilled, even though every part of my vampire-hunting body wanted to do otherwise.

As she stood, Miss Holmes’s expression changed into a slack, uninteresting, drugged one . . . like that of the other young women surrounding us.

It was difficult, but I forced myself to also appear drowsy and incoherent. The best course of action was to remain unnoticed and not to look at the Ankh directly. I didn’t want to be recognized. But what had drawn him to Miss Holmes?

Then, as if he read my mind, the Ankh’s stare settled heavily on me for a long moment. Every one of my muscles tensed and was ready. My fingers still gripped the pistol, and it was all I could do to keep from bolting up and brandishing it. It was Pix’s presence and his unusual caution that kept me from doing so. From the corner of my downcast eyes, I saw Miss Holmes’s skirts drag over the floor as she followed the Ankh’s servant.

Would I ever see her again?

The Ankh turned and walked back toward the open double doors, nodding to the two large men standing there. I sneaked a whiff from my vial.

As soon as the doors closed behind the Ankh, I lunged to my feet. I reached the hidden side door before I realized Pix had followed me. “Wot do ye think you’re doin’?”

“I’m going after her.” I meant to go back into the hallway through which Miss Holmes had brought me, hoping there was another door into the room beyond. “I don’t know what the Ankh is planning, but it can’t be good. We’ve got to stop it.”

“I can’t let ye—”

I shook off his grip once again. “You can’t stop me. I’m a vampire rozzer, remember?”

“Aye,” he said, his eyes dark and serious. They looked like deep wells of ink. “That ye are. Every bit o’ ye.”

Pix moved toward me, his gaze holding mine. I felt the solid wall pressing against my spine and shoulders. My pulse leapt as he eased closer. I could hardly breathe as heat rushed over me and my knees threatened to buckle. Then his mouth covered mine, soft and firm and warm, sending a shock of pleasure jolting through my body.

His hands, those long-fingered thief’s hands, slipped around my jaw, curving to cup the back of my neck as he kissed me. It was a sleek, gentle sweep of lips over lips . . . and it turned into a tender nibble at the corner of my mouth.

Then all at once, he released me and stepped back. My whole body was hot and trembly. My knees shook, and I could do nothing but stare at him for a moment, my lips moist and throbbing, my heart thundering like a runaway horse.