needed was the duke getting in the midst of all of
this. Malloryn pulled strings. He didn't prance into
vampire dens.
"They're over. Martial law has been declared.
Nobody is allowed out after night falls, and the
Nighthawks are going to flood the streets."
"Have you thought about this, your Grace?"
Byrnes asked him. "We're going into vampire-
infested tunnels. It's possible some of us might not
return."
Malloryn settled that unsettling blue stare
upon him. "Do I look like I need you to hold my
hand, Byrnes?"
"I've never seen you fight. This won't be a
duel, your Grace."
"Oh, good. I'd best leave my rapier behind
then," Malloryn replied, tugging off his cravat and
then piling his rings in the mess of his coat.
"Someone fetch me one of those armored
waistcoats."
"As you wish, your Grace," Jack murmured,
and shot Byrnes a steady look as he left to find
Malloryn some protective gear. Debney continued
trying to fade into the wallpaper.
"And stop treating me like I'm going to be
bloody underfoot," Malloryn bellowed, so that
Jack could hear it. He glanced at Byrnes.
"Problem?"
Byrnes crossed his arms. "You can come on
one condition. You're not in charge of this mission.
You don't have any experience in the streets, or
beneath them. I do. Ingrid does. Even Charlie
knows what he's doing. So order of command goes
like this: Me, then Ingrid, then Charlie. If all three
of us are down, then, and only then, do you get to
take charge. One hint that you're not listening, and I
will personally truss you up and deliver you to the
Nighthawks until all of this is done, do you
understand?"
A slight smile crossed Malloryn's lips. "I
think I can manage not to get myself killed. You're
in charge. So let's get this briefing underway, shall
we?"
IN A WAY, Malloryn actually helped. The borough
was quietly cleared by the Nighthawks, and a troop
of the metal Cyclops suits that the humanists had
created to overthrow the prince consort were
supplied to help clear any tunnels. Charlie
enthusiastically claimed one of them, strapping
himself inside the heavy metal suit and tugging the
harness into place.
The entire thing was unnerving, but Byrnes
had to admit that the enormous steel automaton
would prove handy if they needed to clear tunnels
or take on a vampire. It clomped along at his side,
pistons hissing as Charlie worked the gadgetry
inside it.
“If all goes well, Zero will kidnap me off the
streets, you’ll track me to her den, and then you can
come in guns blazing and we’ll take down the
entire nest of vampires in one fell swoop.” The
plan pleased him, but he had to admit there was
doubt there too. It knotted itself in his stomach like
a leaden weight, and the cause of it tilted almond-
shaped eyes up to his. “Ingrid,” he murmured,
capturing her hand. “Don’t do anything stupid, and
stay safe. You’re lucky I’m letting you do this.”
“Letting me?” she replied, in the kind of tone
that was the exact reason he hadn’t bothered
arguing against it.
This was one fight he wouldn’t win.
“Zero’s made a threat against you,” he pointed
out, and caught Charlie’s eye over her shoulder.
They’d already had a quiet little chat, man-to-man.
But the last thing he wanted was for her to know
that. He squeezed her hand and dragged her closer,
his voice lowering. “If anything happens to
you….” This was unfamiliar terrain.
Ingrid’s gaze softened. “I’m not the one
walking into a vampire den unprotected,” she
pointed out.
“Then you know how I feel.”
Ingrid toyed with the lapels on his coat. "I
know how you feel."
Their eyes met. Byrnes squeezed her waist.
He'd never gone into battle like this—worried
about anyone else's safety, or even his own, now
that he had a promise to fulfill.
Malloryn asked, striding back to the group and
priming his pistol. Sunrise turned his brown hair
coppery.
Byrnes stepped back from Ingrid and cleared
his throat. He'd never been one for public displays.
"Time to see if she takes the bait."
Ingrid grabbed him by the lapels and hauled
him against her. Clearly she disagreed. Their
mouths met, fast and furious, and saying more than
words.
When she let him go, Byrnes cupped her
cheek in his hand. So many emotions raced through
her bronze eyes. He knew how much she'd lost,
and how much she feared the idea that he might not
return.
"I'll come back to you, I promise. And I
always speak the truth, Ingrid." Then, giving her
one last kiss, he turned and walked away.
HE WENT AHEAD ALONE.
Ingrid bit her lip, pacing in the shadows as
Byrnes's lean form slipped into the fog... then
disappeared. She ached to go with him, to guard
his back, but this task needed to be undertaken
alone. Even if it felt like she was cutting her heart
out of her chest.
"He'll be all right," Charlie murmured. He'd
managed to discreetly give them both some privacy
by turning his face away and studying the wall as
they kissed, but she didn't think much slipped past
Charlie. Despite his youth, he wore the weight of
the rookeries on his soul. "Byrnes knows what he's
doing."
It wasn’t so much doubt about Byrnes’s
abilities that made her fret, but the fear that she’d
never see him again. She’d tried so hard to keep
him at bay, and yet in true Byrnes fashion he’d
pushed his way into her life, aggravated her,
argued with her, seduced her… and then stolen her
heart when she wasn’t looking.
Now she finally knew what it felt like to have
something that she could lose. That certain little
something she’d been missing from her life had
come from an unexpected direction, but she
couldn’t fight the fact that she wanted it. Wanted
him. A future with him.
And it was only now, standing on the
precipice of losing him, that she could see that.
"What if Zero doesn't decide to keep him?
What if she sets her vampires upon him? Anything
could go wrong." She could almost see it.
"I know how you feel—"
"How I feel?" she retorted. "How could you?
You're just a boy."
"I'm old enough." Shadows darkened those
brilliant blue eyes as Charlie's entire demeanor
changed. It happened so quickly that she realized
just how much of a facade that cheerful mask was.
"You're
afraid because he's walking into danger,
and there's a chance—just a slim one—that
something bad might happen and you cannot protect
him. That's the worst part of this, the fact that
there's not a damn thing you can do to help. The
lack of control.... You just have to hope for the
best."
Shame washed through her. She was taking
her emotions out on him, and it was clear from
Charlie's tone that he had someone he worried
about too. "I'm sorry," Ingrid said gruffly. "I'm on
edge, and—"
“Don’t worry about it.” Charlie flashed her a
smile. “You’re not the first verwulfen I’ve ever
dealt with.”
Ingrid realized she was pacing and stopped,
brushing her knuckles restlessly against the seam of
her pants. "Who is she?"
"Who?"
"The girl you were speaking of; the one you
worry about."
The humor dissolved off his expression.
Charlie glanced down, thick blonde lashes hiding
the slither of a blue blood's hunger as it flashed
darkly across his irises. "Who said I was speaking
of any girl in particular?"
"Your tone. Your voice. The fact that you
cannot control your hunger when you think of her.
It shows in your eyes." As Charlie fell into
stillness, she added, "You don't have to tell me."
"Helps take your mind off matters, doesn't it?"
Charlie sighed, then glanced at the tracking device
that he held in his hand; the one they would use to
hunt Byrnes down if he didn't rendezvous with
them at the appointed time. "Her name is Lark. And
she hates me."
"Why?"
"I did something reckless during the
revolution, and the man she thought of as a father
died because of it. He took a bullet that was meant
for me." Charlie's voice broke, and he fiddled with
the tracker in his hand, his agile thumb toying with
the small compass arrow that was pointing due
south. Toward where Byrnes had disappeared.
"Lark's barely spoken to me since that day. That's
one of the reasons I took this commission when
Blade told me about it. I just... I needed to get out
of the rookeries for a while."
"I'm sorry."
A translucent smile darted over his face,
bittersweet and half mocking. "That's why you
should be careful with Byrnes's heart, Ingrid. You
just never know when you might lose such a thing
—”
The compass arrow suddenly jerked. Both she
and Charlie leapt to their feet, staring down at it.
"Why did it do that?" Ingrid whispered.
Charlie's face paled. "Something happened."
Something... Byrnes....
She started to run, but Charlie nearly jerked
her off her feet. "No!" he told her fiercely, his hand
locked around her wrist. "No, we can't just rush in
there looking for him. Zero might not kill Byrnes,
but she'll cut you down without a second's
thought."
Ingrid glared at him. "That's why you're here,
isn't it? To stop me from—"
“Doing something reckless.” Charlie's grip on
her arm slackened, but didn't disappear. "He wants
to keep you safe. He told me about the threat
against you."
A growl sounded in her throat. "And what
about him? Who's going to protect Byrnes?"
“We all are,” Charlie replied. “Time to bring
in the others. Zero’s taken the bait.”
A whirring sound stopped her tirade in its
tracks. Ingrid's gut plummeted through the soles of
her boots.
The arrow was spinning.
A HAND REACHED out and jerked the black
hood off his head.
Byrnes flinched as light stabbed his sensitive
eyes. He scrambled back, but his hands were
bound to the chair they'd thrust him into and the
chair only scraped on the stone floor. Zero circled
him with slow sideways steps, wearing a set of
black leather breeches similar to the Nighthawks
uniform and a burgundy-colored coat made of
velvet. Her silvery hair curled over her shoulder in
loose waves, and kohl darkened her eyes.
Rather than finding it enticing, his blood
chilled. Four maggot-pale vampires lolled around
the room, resting on the rug in front of the fireplace
like hounds. Each of them wore a thick leather
collar with metal coils and wires through it.
"Looks like you found me, after all." Zero
smiled, and somehow Byrnes forced himself to
drag his gaze back to her.
"Looks like I did," he replied, swallowing his
fear and distaste. "Now what?"
"Now," she whispered, straddling his thighs
and curling a hand around his neck, " my friends
take care of your friends."
Byrnes's blood ran cold. "What?"
"Oh, Byrnes," Zero crooned, tugging at his
shirt collar and fiddling with it flirtatiously.
"Please tell me you didn't think I wouldn't notice a
half dozen Nighthawks wandering around my
asylum? And your pretty little friend... the
verwulfen bitch. She looks lonely—" Lifting a
small flute, she blew out a series of notes. "I think
she needs someone to play with, now that you're
mine."
Several chitters echoed out of the shadows of
the room as all four vampires sprang to attention.
Zero lifted a small control box with an antenna on
the end and smiled at him as she pressed the
button.
Electricity buzzed, and two of the vampires
sank back down, resting their heads on their claws
as static crackled over their collars. One of them
had clearly been a woman, with sagging teats and
straggly white hair that hung in clumps from its
skull. The other two headed for the door as Zero
played the same set of notes on her flute.
Byrnes tried to struggle, but it was no use.
Zero's weight and the manacles were too strong for
him.
"Go and glut yourselves, my pretties," she
hissed behind her to the pair of vampires that slunk
out through the door, before wrapping her arm
around his neck playfully and crooning, "After all,
we wouldn't want to be disturbed. Would we?"
THIRTY-ONE
"AN ASYLUM."
Of course. The map showed that Byrnes’s
beacon signal was coming from the abandoned St.
Mary's Home for the Criminally Insane.
"Makes sense," Charlie replied, taking a step
in the heavy Cyclops suit that he wore. Pistons
hissed as he knelt to peer through the opening that
he'd just made using the Cyclops to tear down half
a brick wall. All Ingrid could see through the glass
slits in the Cyclops's headpiece was his pale face
with that mop of blond curls. "They'd have cells
here to incarcerate their vampires when they
weren't using them. Or to hold people perhaps.
And they're sitting right on top of this abandoned
section of Undertown. Nobody would even see
them coming in and out."
"Plus the asylum's reputation would keep
most curious onlookers at bay," Garrett noted,
running a hand down the stone wall. The
Nighthawks guild master insisted upon coming
along and bringing two of his men. Something
about a debt he owed Byrnes from a few years ago.
Water dripped in the darkness through the
hole Charlie had just made, but apart from that, all
was silent. The smell, however....
"Jesus," Garrett muttered.
Ingrid had smelled death before. "That smells
like old death," she told him. "Something's been
dumping bodies just through here." One of the
EMLEDs in hand, Ingrid crept through the hole in
the wall onto a ledge, and looked down. The
Electro-Magnetic Light Emitting Device would be
one of their greatest weapons this morning.
The room fell away into a pit with a narrow
pair of boards stretched across it. Ingrid squatted
on the plank and then activated the EMLED,
dropping it down into the hollow below.
The light tumbled end over end, then splashed
to a halt far below. Something looked up and
hissed, it's eyes shining blue-white with cat shine,
and then the shadowy creature fled into the
darkness. And that's when Ingrid began to make out
the bodies.
Bone gleamed as the EMLED burned like
phosphorus. There were the ragged remains of
clothes and misshapen lumps of rotting flesh. She
didn't need to see more.
"Vampire below," she murmured over her
shoulder, looking into the darkness where the
planks stretched. "I'm guessing this is where they
dump the bodies. You're going to have to leave the
Cyclops suit here, Charlie. The plank won't sustain
the weight."
"Kincaid," Charlie murmured, touching the
communicator in his ear. "Can you hear me?"
A static buzzing sounded, and Charlie's
shoulders eased in relief. "We've got something
here," he said. "Found a vampire, and maybe a
way into Zero's holdout. She's been using the old
asylum as a vampire den. Ingrid and I are going
in."
Static crackled, and Charlie smiled as he let
go of the button. "I think he's actually starting to
come round," he joked quietly. "Even wished us
luck."
"Really?" Garrett arched a brow.
"Well, it was more like, 'Go kill them
bloodsuckers, and don't get bit, 'cause I ain't comin'
in after you.'"
Ingrid had to grudgingly admit that Charlie