this Ulbricht scheme in its tracks." Byrnes shoved
to his feet, his mind racing. "Keep an eye on Ingrid
for me? There's a few things I need to see to."
INGRID BLINKED SLEEPY EYES, smelling a
familiar perfume. She turned, snuggling her face
into Rosa's wrist, where their hands lay
interlocked. "Rosa. What are you doing here?"
Rosa went to her knees on the floor beside
her bed, those serious dark eyes on a level with
her own, as she rested her chin on her free hand.
"Checking to see if my closest friend is all right."
She blew a red curl out of her face. "Someone told
me a rather statuesque young verwulfen woman
blew up a bridge today."
Ingrid smiled faintly, even as she shut her
eyes again. "It seemed like a good idea at the
time." There was a certain absence in the room.
That made her look up. "Where's—"
"Byrnes?" Rosa asked, in a dry voice.
Their eyes met. "It's not like that," Ingrid said
quickly.
"Isn't it?" Rosa sighed. "He was sitting by
your bedside when I arrived. I think he's scared of
me. Lynch is talking to him."
Ingrid relaxed back down into her pillow.
Rosa settled her bottom on the edge of the
bed. "Byrnes seems to be spending rather a lot of
time at your side, lately."
"We are working together."
"Which explains why he was sitting here
holding your hand."
"Rosa—"
"It's all right." Her friend smiled. "My
concerns over Byrnes' feelings for you have been
satisfied. He's clearly enamored."
Ingrid snorted. Then twisted her fingers in the
pillow, plucking at it. This time, I intend to win
your heart... She couldn't quite explain how that
made her feel.
Nervous. Hopeful. Terrified.
Rosa's eyes narrowed. "Unless he's said
something to the contrary?"
"No," she whispered. "He said he wants to...
win my heart."
Rosa's skirts rustled as she shifted. "Hmm.
That was not said in an entirely convincing tone of
voice. What's wrong?"
Ingrid squeezed the bridge of her nose.
"Nothing."
"Is it what you want?"
She looked up, and knew Rosa saw the panic
in her eyes.
"Or are you afraid?" Rosa asked gently.
"What if something goes wrong?" she blurted.
"What if he can't love me? What if..." She
swallowed down the lump in her throat. "I don't
think I could handle the rejection right now, if he
decided he was wrong."
"If he cannot love you, then he's a fool. You're
entirely lovable. And what makes now any
different to any other time?" Rosa arched a brow.
Ingrid sighed, and reached for her coat, which
was hanging over the chair next to the bed. She
tugged the small worn telegram from her pocket,
and passed it silently to her friend.
Rosa read it. "Another dead end."
"Perhaps the last," Ingrid admitted, in a small
voice.
"Only if you stop trying," Rosa replied firmly.
"Your parents are out there somewhere, Ingrid."
She set the telegram down, her lips thinning with
resolve. "And as much as this dalliance bothered
me in the beginning, I see something there that
wasn't there before. I never used to believe that
Byrnes had a heart, not until I saw the way he
looked at you. I think you're worrying for no good
reason, but I can understand, given your past, why
you're doing so." Rosa lay down on the pillow
beside her, and turned her head so that their faces
were inches apart. "I want you to be happy. I want
you to be loved. And despite the fact that Byrnes
has his flaws—many of them—I don't think he's the
sort of man who would toy with your feelings. He
simply doesn't have it in him to play pretend.
Besides, if you never take the risk, then how will
you ever know? He could be the love of your life.
He might give you half a dozen fat little babies. Or
what if he's a closet romantic, and plans to shower
you with love and affection for the rest of his days.
Maybe he's a poet at heart?"
Ingrid thumped her friend with her spare
them fell into a breathy silence.
Ingrid bit her lip. "I'm scared."
Rosa snuggled in closer. "That's how you
know it's real."
TWENTY-EIGHT
AS NIGHT FELL and the rest of the house on
Baker Street filled with the others, Byrnes found
himself chairing a meeting.
"You've looked better," Byrnes told Kincaid
as the mech slumped into a chair at the table. Dark
circles blackened both eyes, and Kincaid's nose
was swollen and misshapen.
Kincaid's gaze darted to Ava, then away
again. "She patched me up." He smiled menacingly.
"I hear you've been blowing up bridges."
"Seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Aye. Wish I'd seen it." Kincaid's smile
softened. "Bet Malloryn's having conniptions right
about now."
Byrnes shrugged. "I think he's got other things
on his mind. Someone did try to kill the queen at
his engagement party, after all."
"Unsuccessfully,"
Ingrid
added.
"Thank
goodness. Only a minor bruise or two, according
to Rosa."
"So," Gemma Townsend said, lacing her arms
across her chest. "Looks like the anarchists have
kicked the hornet's nest. What are we going to do
about it?"
"Are we waiting for Malloryn?" Byrnes
asked.
"He's with the Council. Another emergency
meeting. They're voting on whether to settle martial
law over London," Gemma replied. "I doubt he'll
be back before dawn."
"And the Baroness Schröder?"
"With Malloryn."
Byrnes stared around the table, meeting all of
their eyes. "This began with the disappearance of
forty people at the Venetian Gardens, but it wasn't
the first time people have disappeared. We know
who took them now. We know their purpose in
doing so—to strike fear into the heart of the
average Londoner, to encourage them to rise
against the queen. It's quite clear that London is
under attack by these dhampir and the SOG, we
just don't know why."
"Or if those people are still alive," Ingrid
admitted at his side.
There was silence then.
"Do you think they're feeding them to the
vampires?" Charlie Todd asked, and his face was
paler than usual.
"We don't know." The thought, however, had
crossed his mind. "What we do know is that Zero
wants me to find her. She's the key to it. Find her,
find the vampires—and most likely find the
missing people."
"And how do we do that?" Charlie demanded.
"We know the general vicinity in which
they're operating," Ava said, tapping the map and
drawing a circle with her finger from Clerkenwell
to Barbican. Someone had speared little pins into
every sighting.
"This is where we lost the trail when Kincaid
and I tried to follow it from the Home." Charlie
pushed a pin into the map.
Byrnes frowned. "This is the rough area
where we lost it from the Venetian Gardens."
The two pins were within four streets of each
other.
He added another. "And this is where Zero
gave Kincaid a friendly love tap before she
decided she wants to be wooed by me."
"Hell,"
Charlie
breathed.
"They're
somewhere in this area."
Excitement flared. People always made
mistakes, if you were patient. "What's in the area? I
don't know it well."
"Two burned-out churches," Charlie replied.
"A couple of weaving factories, one draining
factory, an old asylum, numerous houses. It verges
on Whitechapel territory, so I've patrolled it, but
not well. I think there are a couple of abandoned
train stations below that verged into Undertown
once upon a time, but after Blade waged war on
the slasher gangs that hid down there, we blew
some of the tunnels so they couldn't get through."
"Are they all collapsed?" Byrnes asked.
"Vampires like the dark."
Charlie's blue eyes met his. "Could be
pockets, or caverns. Undertown always was a
warren. I know people started living down there
again in some places once the slasher gangs were
gone and they no longer had to fear for their lives.
It's not a nice territory, Byrnes."
"There's an old enclave here too, where they
used to house the mechs before they freed us,"
Kincaid pointed out, tapping the map. "Been
closed for three years."
"Lots of places to hide." But this was it. He
felt it in his bones.
"So we spread out?" Kincaid demanded. "Try
and find a vampire?"
"Or three," Ingrid muttered. "We don't know
how many there are, and we also suspect there's at
least two of the dhampir working against us,
thanks to Gemma’s attack at the museum."
Which sobered the entire group up.
"How quiet does this need to be?” Charlie
asked. “Could we use the Nighthawks for
manpower?"
"I'll talk to Garrett," he replied. “I think the
cat’s out of the bag, thanks to the explosion.”
"We need bait." This time it was Ingrid who
spoke up.
The room silenced as they all turned to look
at her.
"You're not doing this," Byrnes growled,
shaking his head.
"I wasn't talking about me," she said quietly.
"This Zero is interested in you. She wants you to
find her, Byrnes, which I think gives you the
greatest chance to survive if you were bait. She
doesn't want to kill you. Not yet."
"But what if she takes him right out from
under our noses?" Kincaid asked, crossing his huge
arms over his chest. "She doesn't need to keep the
rest of us alive. All she needs to do is take him,
and then how do we bloody well find him?"
"With Garrett and Fitz's tracking device."
Byrnes’s voice gradually strengthened as the plan
unrolled in his mind. "Garrett put a tracking device
on Perry years ago, following a case in which she
almost died." He turned to Ava. "Do you think you
can get it off Fitz?"
Ava nodded earnestly.
"When?" Byrnes asked, staring at Ingrid.
She considered the map. "Tomorrow morning.
As soon as dawn breaks. We can't afford to do this
in the dark, as much as I want to save those people.
We don't have a lot of weapons against a vampire
in the first place, but sunlight is our ally at least."
"And we need to let Malloryn know, and
prepare," Gemma agreed.
Byrnes took a deep breath. "Dawn then.”
TWENTY-NINE
“ANY REASON WE’RE heading down this
street?” Ingrid murmured as she strolled beside
Byrnes.
Midnight had come and gone, and they’d
completed the list of tasks that they’d been given to
prepare for dawn. The Nighthawks were ready and
would meet them at the edge of the search area.
Now she was tired, and wanted to snatch a few
hours of sleep before she had to go vampire
hunting.
Clearly not what Byrnes had planned.
He nodded toward the small set of rooms
she’d leased. “I wanted to show you something.”
“I’m fairly certain I’ve already seen it,
Byrnes,” she drawled.
“I’m fairly certain you haven’t. I prepared it
the other day, when you were recovering.”
That caught her attention. What on earth was
he up to? “At my set of rooms?”
“You’ll see.” Byrnes climbed the stairs to the
front door, then leapt up and dragged himself onto
the roof beside it, reaching down to offer her a
hand.
“Now you’ve caught my attention.” She let
him help her up, and then he popped the lock on
her window and slipped inside. “Just what are you
up to?”
“Mischief.”
“Well, that’s nothing new.” Ingrid slung her
leg over the windowsill. There was an array of
small tools laid on a strip of leather beside the
skirting boards. "You fixed my skirting boards?”
"Oh, Ingrid." He pressed his ear against the
wall, then frowned, toying with something in his
belt. "I didn’t fixing your skirting boards. I
promised to give you a present, something you’d
never been given before.”
Ingrid’s gaze shot to his. She’d been expecting
a gift-wrapped box when she set this challenge.
Not a roll of tools on the floor. “What is it?”
He held out some sort of device to her. "Press
the button."
It was a small brass box with a dial on the
interface. Ingrid hesitantly pushed the ON button.
Almost instantly she felt like she wanted to itch her
skin. There was something whining in the walls,
almost on the edge of hearing.
"It works somewhat like the Nighthawks’
communicators," he explained. "A high-pitched
frequency just enough to...." Taking the box, he
fiddled with several knobs and the whine died
down until it vanished, at least to her hearing.
"Just enough to...?"
A smile flashed over his face, that particular
one that changed his entire aspect, like the sun
creeping over the horizon at dawn and lighting the
world. "It gets rid of vermin, Ingrid."
Surprise took hold of her.
"No more rats, Fitz assures me. They cannot
abide the sound. He has something like this rigged
at the gui
ld."
Ingrid's mouth parted, and there was a
suspicious warmth in her eyes. "You.... You...."
Byrnes waited, but she couldn't seem to put it
into words. Or maybe there were none needed.
That little smile was back, toying about his lips.
"You're welcome."
This was a gift unlike any other, and she was
so choked up with emotion that she couldn’t quite
use her voice until she swallowed it all down. It
truly was the greatest gift he could have given her.
Except for his heart. Ingrid glanced away.
She wasn’t going to ask for that. She didn’t dare.
“And what reward do you want to claim for this
challenge?”
Byrnes frowned, looking down at the
screwdriver he’d picked up. “It’s tempting….” He
flipped the small screwdriver in the air, then
caught it. “But we need to talk.” He looked up. “I
just want an answer. That’s all, Ingrid.”
Ingrid circled a chair, resting her hands on it
before realizing that she’d deliberately placed a
barrier between them. “About us?”
“About us.”
Ingrid scowled. “I don’t know what to think.
One moment you want to earn kisses for
challenges, the next thing you’re telling me this is a
bad idea, and then all of a sudden you’re trying to
charm me again.”
“This has nothing to do with charm. I just
realized what I truly want.”
“Oh?”
Byrnes took a step toward her. "And it wasn't
just you in my bed."
If he keeps up like this, I might almost start
to believe him. "Stop saying things like that."
"Why?" Byrnes stepped closer, hovering but
three inches away. "It's the truth, Ingrid. And I don't
lie. Not about the important things."
No, he didn’t. Sometimes the truth wasn’t one
you wanted to hear, but it was always true. "I
thought you wanted to forget me." Her right foot
stepped back, as if to flee, then she firmed. She
wasn't retreating from anything, particularly him.
Not anymore. "Burn me from your blood? Get your
fix of me, so that then I could stop haunting you?"
"I'm an idiot."
"Are you trying to pretend that you didn't
mean those words?" she scoffed, her heart starting
to pound a little swifter in her ears. No. No, it
couldn't be. She didn't dare believe it. "That
you've been harboring some sort of secret tendre
for me for the past year?"
Byrnes tossed the screwdriver aside and it
slapped against the wall before dropping to the
floor. She was fairly certain that she also heard