Amanda Quick - Quicksilver

She went back across the room and picked up a heavy glass statue of a cat. Frissons of energy crackled through her. She paid no attention.

The mirrored panel swung open just as Virginia started toward it with the statue.

For a heartbeat she dared to hope that Owen would enter the room, coming to the rescue as he had the night he found her in the Hollister mansion.

But of course it was not Owen who walked into the mirrored chamber. One did not get that sort of good luck twice, Virginia thought.

A woman stood in the opening. She was tall, with a face that would have been quite pretty, had her eyes not been so ice-cold. Her dark hair was swept up into an artful chignon. Her elegant silver-grayand-black gown was trimmed with glittering black glass beads. Strands of black glass gems sparkled at her throat and wrists. Obsidian earrings dangled from her ears. She gripped a pistol in one hand.

Virginia recognized her in spite of the fine clothes and expensive jewelry.

“Mrs. Hollister’s paid companion,” Virginia said. “I congratulate you on your wardrobe. It is certainly of a much finer quality than it was the last time we met.”

“Good evening, Miss Dean. Allow me to introduce myself properly this time. I am Alcina Norgate. You are, of course, acquainted with my brother, Jasper.”

Jasper Welch bustled into the room. He had a pocket watch in one hand. “It is nearly midnight. Time to ignite my Great Engine.”

Alcina smiled at Virginia. “I’m afraid Jasper requires a contribution from you in order to complete his project. His grand experiment ought to have been concluded by now, but things did not go as planned that evening at the Hollister mansion. We have taken pains to ensure that this time matters will turn out quite differently.”

“Quite differently, indeed,” Welch said. He snapped the pocket watch closed. Reaching into another pocket, he produced a set of iron wrist manacles. “Only one set, I’m afraid. We didn’t plan on two of you being present for the final phase of the experiment. But there’s no reason you and your housekeeper can’t share these.”

Gilmore Leybrook was in his library, going over the latest financial reports for the Institute, when he sensed the ominous currents of energy. They rolled through the room like the waves of a dark, cold sea. Alarmed, he surged to his feet. He was suddenly sweating profusely. His heart beat too fast. Instinctively he looked around, searching for the source of the deadly danger that had invaded the room.

At first he saw nothing, but before he could assure himself that his imagination had overreacted, Owen Sweetwater came through the doorway, the wings of his long black coat flaring around him.

Gilmore stared at him, unable to breathe. He had never been so frightened in his life.

“I need an address, Leybrook,” Sweetwater said. “You will provide it to me.”

Anger surged through Gilmore, momentarily offsetting the raw terror that was roiling his guts. “Now, see here, I don’t know who you think you are, but you have no right—”

He broke off, choking on another wave of panic.

“You will give me the address,” Sweetwater said.

Gilmore crumpled back down on his chair. “Yes.” He sucked in a breath. “Who are you looking for?”

Sweetwater told him. Gilmore gave him the address.

Sweetwater turned and went toward the door of the library. He paused briefly to look back at Gilmore.

“There will be no more threats to Miss Dean’s career,” Sweetwater said. “If I hear so much as a whisper of gossip I will assume it came from you, and I will come for you.”

He did not wait for a response, which was just as well because Gilmore doubted that he was capable of speech.

He sat at the desk for a long time, collecting his nerve. After a while he got up, crossed the room to the brandy decanter and poured a large measure of the strong spirits into a glass. He downed the brandy in three swallows. Then he poured another glass.

After a while his nerves recovered somewhat.

One thing was clear, he would have to pursue his vendetta against Arcane without the assistance of Virginia Dean. Well, it was not as if she was the only powerful talent in London, he thought. He would find another who could help him destroy the Society.

You do realize that Mr. Sweetwater and his associates will be here soon,” Virginia said.

She sat next to Mrs. Crofton on the velvet bench, her left wrist bound to Mrs. Crofton’s right wrist with the heavy manacle. The chain of the manacle had been looped around the center leg of the padded bench. The iron bench leg was, in turn, bolted to the floor.

Welch was busily arranging three clockwork curiosities, a large praying mantis, a monstrous scorpion and a giant spider. He positioned the terrible toys in a semicircle in front of Virginia and Mrs. Crofton, careful to make certain that the curiosities were out of range of their feet.

“Rest assured there is no way that Sweetwater can possibly learn the location of this house,” Alcina Norgate said. “Just as he will never discover the identity of the glass-reader killer. I assume that is why he took up with you, is it not? It is the only explanation for his presence in this affair. I never did believe that he was merely an investigator who was out to expose a few pathetic fraudulent practitioners.”

“You seem to have it all reasoned out,” Virginia said. “But why in heaven’s name did you get involved with Hollister and his wife? They were both mad.”

“Their eccentricities are what made the entire plan possible,” Alcina said. “It was a somewhat risky venture, to be sure, but the results made the effort worthwhile.”

Owen had been right, Virginia thought. Money had been the motivation for much of what had occurred. But she did not want to let Alcina and Welch know that Owen was closing in on the answers. She needed to buy time for Mrs. Crofton and herself.

“You were after the Hollister fortune?” she asked aloud.

Rage flashed in Alcina’s eyes with the startling speed of a wildfire. “The Hollister money belongs to Jasper and me. It will soon be ours. Lady Hollister inherited her husband’s fortune, you see. But I persuaded her to leave it all to me in her own will. I had planned to get rid of her in due course, but she very graciously took care of the problem herself. Now that she is dead, I am the sole beneficiary.”

Suddenly it all fell into place, the disconcerting burst of fury, the talent, the obsession with the Hollister inheritance.

“You and your brother are Hollister’s illegitimate offspring, aren’t you?” Virginia said quietly.

Mrs. Crofton nodded with a knowing air. “Ah, so that’s the way it is.”

Alcina frowned. “Very good, Miss Dean. Did you guess the truth because you and I share the stain of illegitimacy?”

“Well, that, and because you and your brother are obviously as mad as your father,” Virginia said.

The taunt proved to be a mistake. Fury flashed again in Alcina’s eyes. She opened the nearest glass case, reached inside and took out a crystal pendant.

The pendant sparked. A senses-searing fire crackled in the room. Virginia had lowered her talent, but that did not save her from the shock of the pendant’s energy. It was as if she had been struck by lightning. Instinctively she put up her free hand in a useless attempt to shield herself.

“No, Alcina,” Welch shouted. Alarmed, he rushed toward her. “You must not destroy her senses. I need her and her talent.”

“Miss Dean,” Mrs. Crofton said urgently. “Are you all right?”

The white-hot energy ceased abruptly.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Alcina shrieked. “Don’t ever say such a thing again or I will blind you permanently. Do you understand?”