Read Gilded Hearts (The Shadow Guild Series) Online

Authors: Christine D'Abo

Tags: #Fiction / Romance - Erotica, #Fiction / Romance - Fantasy, #Fiction / Romance - Science Fiction, #Fiction / Science Fiction - Steampunk

Gilded Hearts (The Shadow Guild Series) (8 page)

BOOK: Gilded Hearts (The Shadow Guild Series)
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“Something in passing.” The doctor’s expression didn’t change from what it had been during the poker game. “What was the cause of death?”

“She’d been slashed with a knife,” Piper said in a soft, clear voice.

“You did the extraction? “ Constantine cocked an eyebrow. “I assume there is a reason you are speaking with me now, why you interrupted my game while I had that young buck on the run?”

“Miss Smith filed the report.” Dennison gave her shoulder a squeeze before joining her at the table. “And yes, something came up during the investigation.”

“Go on.” The doctor spoke to Dennison, but his gaze never left Piper.

“An image was extracted from her memory. One we think you might be able to assist with.”

Piper reached into the bag she carried, carefully removing the image slate. Captured on the glass was a perfectly preserved picture taken from the woman’s mind. Piper couldn’t remember it now, but something tugged at her when she looked at the picture. Most of the details were blurred, as captured memories tended to be, but there was one feature easily distinguishable from the jumbled images.

The long tendrils of a tattooed ankh looped up a man’s forearm, disappearing off the glass. There was something about it, the shape and location that made her brain itchy. If she gave it too much thought her head would begin to pound, the void in her mind making its presence felt.

Setting the glass on the table, Piper carefully slid it across the table toward Constantine. “Doctor, have you seen something like this before?”

Reaching out, he caressed the edge of the plate with his finger. “Interesting. I thought they’d all been rounded up.”

Dennison shifted in his seat. “Who, doctor?”

“It was five, no, six years ago now. A group of men, and a few women, if I remember correctly, were found dead on the banks of the Thames. Each of them had this symbol tattooed on their arm. The archivist at the time was unable to do the extractions. All of them had shot themselves in the head.” Constantine gently nudged the glass away. “I believe the investigators determined that the group called themselves the Children of Osiris. I was only brought in to see if I could make the extractions work.”

“Did you?” Piper held herself stiff as Constantine’s gaze dipped to her breasts.

“The attempt was made. Unfortunately the extracting archivist went insane and killed himself.”

“Dear God,” Jones muttered.

“And you’re saying a prostitute has been in contact with someone with this mark?” Constantine pushed the bridge of his glasses up. “Why come to me?”

“That isn’t anything we care to share—” Dennison stopped when Constantine held up his hand.

“From the lady, please.”

Dennison stiffened, but Piper gave his arm a light pat. “Doctor, we are simply trying to help the King’s Sentry solve a murder.”

“Why on Earth do you care about the murder of a whore?”

Piper dug her nails into her the palms of her hands. “We care about the deaths of any of New London’s citizens. Even those who are forced to hold less savory occupations in our city. They are still human beings, after all.”

There was only a flash, but Piper swore she saw a flicker of something dark cross Constantine’s face. “Touché, Miss… what did you say your name was?”

“Smith. So the woman had contact with someone from this cult. That is very helpful, doctor.”

“I would be more than happy to come into the Archives, review any additional plates you may have pulled. I might be able to offer some insight into your prostitute.”

“Perhaps.” Something about the way the doctor looked at her made Piper’s skin crawl. “I would hate to waste your time. This could be nothing more than a client unhappy with… services rendered.” Piper was blushing now, but refused to break Constantine’s gaze.

“I am always happy to assist the Archivist Guild. But for now, I would very much like to return to my cards. The others will stay away, and their purses along with them, until you three leave.”

The dismissal was harsh, but not unexpected. She’d been able to get under his skin, something she suspected wasn’t easy to accomplish.

Dennison jerked to his feet. “Thank you for your time, sir. You’ve been most helpful.”

Piper hesitated for a moment before retrieving the glass and tucking it back into her bag. Dennison and Jones quickly made their way to the door.

She held the doctor’s gaze a moment longer, but also noted his hand was still clutching his glasses. Yes, she’d upset the man for sure. Rising to her feet, she nodded. “Thank you, doctor.”

“Of course. And Miss Smith?”

Piper stopped before she left the room, turning to look Constantine in the eye. “Sir?”

“Excellent job with your first extraction. To pull an image this clear from the memory cathode is impressive. I anticipate you will be in high demand. Let me know if the effects of the extractions start to affect your memory or personality and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

“That’s very kind of you, doctor.” The bastard certainly knew how to pull her levers. Piper straightened, not wanting to show the panic that tugged at her innards. “If I require your assistance I will send word.”

As they left, Piper swore she heard the doctor chuckling all the way out to the courtyard.

“Ignore what that bastard said, Miss Smith.” Jones spoke once they climbed into their steam horse carriage. “They pull us from duty now before the madness takes over. There hasn’t been a reported case of an archivist losing his faculties for decades.”

“I know.” Not an officially reported case, at least. But Constantine’s story of the archivist going mad and committing suicide had the ring of truth to it, somehow.

Dennison hadn’t said a word to her. He took the seat opposite her, and the door clicked shut behind them.

“That smug bastard.” Dennison’s white-ringed gaze was cold and steady.

“He was toying with us, trying to throw us off our game.” She’d seen Samuel do something similar more than once when they were growing up. While she might not be as effective as he was, Piper had been able to employ the same skill on more than one occasion. “He can talk all he wants. I won’t let it bother me.”

“Good for you, Miss Smith.” Jones smiled. “You never let anyone bother you.”

The itching in Piper’s mind began again, like a thought trying to climb its way up from the void. “No, I don’t. I’m certain that he knows more about this cult that what he’s saying. We should coordinate with the King’s Sentry and get them to assign an officer to watch Constantine.” Jones and Dennison shared a look. “What?”

Dennison pinched the bridge of his nose. “And who do you suggest we liaise with? A particular Sergeant Hawkins, perhaps?”

No, she wasn’t going to be made to feel guilty about this. “Of course. He’s the lead investigator in this case. If the murderer is a member of the guild, then his cooperation could benefit us.”

“The bastard ran away from our cause.” Jones’ frown cut his baby-faced look, giving him an edge Piper rarely saw. “He left us. Why should we make any effort to help him, or trust him to help us?”

There was no response to that. Jones was, of course, correct.

“Our interests and those of the King’s Sentry aren’t necessarily aligned, Miss Smith. I don’t want to waste time hunting a killer, only to have the guild become the target of attack by the public if our suspicions turn out to be true.” Dennison held out his hand. “The plate, please. I want to make sure it is put in safekeeping.”

She wasn’t sure why, but Piper hesitated for a moment before taking the strap from around her head and coiling it on top of the bag. Carefully, she passed the weight over. “I’m more than capable of filing it myself.”

“Master June entrusted it to me.” Dennison gave Jones another look before turning to face the window. “I’ll take it when we return.”

“You bastards.” Piper was many things, but a fool wasn’t one of them. They couldn’t demand she put her life at risk, keep secrets, jump and do their bidding whenever it was needed, then close her out. “There is a killer in our midst. You expect me to sit idly by and do nothing while the two of you run the investigation?”

“I expect you to follow my orders.”

“I’m not an apprentice, nor am I a child. Stop treating me like one.”

The silence was only broken by the mechanical grinding of the automaton’s joints and the hiss of steam into the night air.

“What do you mean, he’s gone?”

Dennison and Jones cornered Piper as soon as morning meal started. She’d been hoping to put this encounter off as long as possible. Of course, things hadn’t gone her way.

“He left last night.” She hadn’t been able to sleep at all upon returning to her quarters. The look of blind terror Samuel wore continued to haunt her. “I’m not sure where he’s going or why.”

“Asshole.” Dennison pressed the heel of his hand to his eye, pausing only for a moment before snapping around and storming from the room.

Jones stayed with her the rest of the day, neither of them making much conversation.

“You saw him.” Dennison’s quiet voice startled her.

“I did.”

“How is…” He gave his head a shake. “Will he help us?”

Memories of Samuel fighting against the machine, the fear on his tear-streaked face and the distrust in his eyes as he fled, reared up. “Of course he will. Sam might have left, but we’re still the only family he has.”

“Go to him tomorrow and either bring him on board or take what information we need. We must be certain.” Dennison finally turned to look at her, his normally handsome features hardened and cold. “There’s too much at risk if you’re wrong.”

“I’ll make sure he’s with us.”

For all their sakes, she hoped he was.

Chapter Seven
 

The sheets were pulled tight across Samuel’s chest, stifling him. He was only half aware of his surroundings, having clawed his way up from a deep sleep to that in-between stage where one’s mind is awake enough to know it’s dreaming but tired enough not to care. The voice in his head was whispering a filthy litany to a woman in his arms, his wife. She moaned softly before breaking into a giggle, far more innocent sounding than it should have been.

She was naked, her soft skin a gentle caress against his as she rutted with him. She’d climbed on top of him, her large breasts swinging freely above his chest, brushing the skin as if by accident and not design. Of course it was a lazy seduction on her part. Samuel was already naked and hard, willing to take her with little more persuasion than a whispered
now
. Her taut nipples were too great a temptation to leave untasted. Catching one breast in his hand, Samuel pulled her to his mouth to suck and tease the hardened flesh while he rubbed his cock against her ass. He wanted to rut against her until he spent over her bare thighs.


Guh,
yes,” she sighed, leaning into his mouth. “Harder.”

Samuel caught her other nipple in his hand, pinching and rolling the tip between his fingers. The woman giggled once more and pressed her face to his neck, effectively pulling her breast from his mouth and pinning his hand to her chest.

“You’re a naughty boy.”

Naughty boy

A bad boy.

A child in the streets, dodging the coppers and clockwerk press-gangs. No bleedin’ way they was gonna catch him.
I can hide down by the docks. Like hide ’n’ seek, ’cept they’ll never find me. Ma and Da won’t know where I am and I won’t get in trouble fer rippin’ Ma’s new skirts
.

New skirts.

A rainbow of color spinning round and round. The candles sparkled like stars trapped beneath the roof. An old man, old memories, wishing he could reach back through time and right past wrongs. He’d never have let his father choose his wife for him. He’d have married Sarah, the way he’d wanted. Wouldn’t have spent a lifetime wishing things could have been different. No regrets and a happier life.

No regrets.

No happiness.

Darkness.

Samuel clawed at his chest and kicked at the sheet. He knew this wasn’t right, the memories twisting his mind until he didn’t know which way was up or out. If he could open his eyes everything would be better. He’d be normal again, and maybe Piper would change her mind and want him.

But she wouldn’t. Darkness shrouded him, pulled him back so he couldn’t escape the shadows. He wasn’t the man she deserved, the one who could protect her.

He was all alone. Even John had left him. John who was older than he, but only by a bit.

There’s only a day between us, so you can’t bully me. Where did you get the knife? Don’t cut yourself, you’re going to bleed everywhere. No, I don’t like the color. I’m gonna get Master Ryerson. He’ll need to take you to the doctor te make sure yer okay
.

John?

Don’t cry, John.

It will be all right. I’ll stay with you.

No, I don’t care what they say. You’re my friend and I’m gonna stay with you. We’ll grow up and be archivists and make the metal horses do funny things.

John?

Where are you, John…

It was so hot here and hard to breathe. He had to get out, get away to the country where he could run and run and run. The Archives were too big; the Guild Masters didn’t care about him and what he did. They wouldn’t even notice if he slipped away and never came back.

Pip would know.

She’d miss him.

She’d slipped in to fill the void, the spot John had once held. He loved it when she smiled; her whole face lit up. Master Ryerson doesn’t want him near her, says Pip will be a true Master one day. Not like me. He’d run away then, prove them all wrong. It would be wonderful to be free of the dark.

If she came with him…

Pip?

Help me, Sam.

Samuel sat up, gasping for air. The fan on his wall had stopped turning and the room had grown muggy. Disgusted by the state of his body and sweat-soaked bedding, he shoved the sheet aside and padded naked across the cool floor to the wash area. It took three pumps of the handle to get the steam-heated water flowing into the basin from the pipe. Forgoing the crusty soap, he cupped the near-scalding water and splashed a generous amount onto his face, leaving the excess to drip down his bare chest and arms. The warmth chased away the last of the lingering darkness that had encased his spirit.

What the hell had happened? Those weren’t all his memories, nor were they from anyone he knew. Men, women, children he’d never seen, their thoughts and feelings somehow permeating his mind, fusing with his own experiences.

“Master Ryerson, where’s John?” Samuel couldn’t look at the big man. He scared him, and Samuel always cried when he was scared. John said he should never cry in front of the Master.

“What are you doing here?” Ryerson stood up from the workbench, his large hands covered in grease. “You’re not supposed to leave the lower rooms.”

“I woke up this morning and John wasn’t there. I looked and looked and looked, but I couldn’t find him.”

Somehow Samuel found the courage to lift his gaze from the floor and meet that of the man who charged in and out of his days. He didn’t like what he saw. Hate and anger. He didn’t like what he felt. Disgust. Samuel wasn’t sure how, but he knew those feelings came from Master Ryerson.

“He’s dead, boy. Now go back to your rooms.”

Samuel said nothing else and complied with the directive. John was dead. And Master Ryerson wasn’t lying.

While he hadn’t thought about John for years, Samuel knew in that moment that there was something more to the story. A memory he couldn’t quite grasp, like water in his hands. John had been important, someone special to him.

And yet…

Closing his eyes, Samuel tried to grab hold of the memory, but as quickly as it had come, the images slipped away to be replaced with the remembrance of a long stretch of naked body. The thrust of her humble breasts, nipples hard and enticing, ready for him to suckle, nip at, pinch until she begged him to fuck her hard.

No, that wasn’t reality. These weren’t his thoughts and feelings.

The fucking Archives had pressed its way into his mind, twisting and corrupting everything that was truly his.

Things were so far on the bloody side of wrong Samuel didn’t know what he was going to do. These images had gone beyond the static glimpses he should have been exposed to. It hadn’t been an extraction. Hell, the goggles weren’t even working before he slipped them over his eyes. Nothing should have happened.

He splashed another handful of water, this time letting a measure of it slosh across his shoulders and down his back. He should have listened to Piper, waiting until she’d returned and been there to ensure nothing happened. He shouldn’t have these things shoved into his head.

What the hell was happening to him?

Piper might know, would tell him if he gave her a chance to speak. Pip and her soft smiles. Her flushed cheeks, bright when she got angry or embarrassed. The temptation to peel down her bodice to see how far that blush would travel was still there. Would it go all the way to the top of her breasts? He could find out. She might let him if he asked. Her eyes would grow wide with shock and wonder when he parted her thighs and ran a thumb across her clit. Piper’s body would be tight around his cock as he pushed into her for the first time, breaching the barrier that proclaimed her innocence.

Samuel growled, slapping the water in the basin, sending it sloshing over the edge. Why was he doing this to himself? Piper had committed her life to the Archives. That meant no relationship, no sex, no
him
for as long as she was a part of the guild.

Pip and John, the only two people he’d ever felt so connected to. Both gone from his life because of the Archives. John, to God only knew what fate, and Piper to her sense of duty. He might not be able to do anything about John, but he wasn’t going to give up on Piper without a fight.

His first priority was to solve the prostitute’s murder, clear his mind so he could focus on Piper. He’d get dressed and return to the office. He could be useful there, review the case notes and the files from the Archives. Timmons should be finished with the first round of their inquiries as well. If luck was on their side they would have discovered some sliver of information that he could use to track the killer. Yes, he’d return to the Tower. The distraction should be enough to ground him in the present and chase away the lingering aftereffects from the machine.

Samuel retreated deep into himself as he went through the motions of dressing for the day. The bedsit wasn’t overly large, but it saved him from having to share a room at the barracks. It had steam heat and water whenever he wanted, though the privilege cost. This had been his refuge since he’d moved out from the Williams residence and joined the King’s Sentry. The barracks had been exhausting, he’d discovered after a brief attempt to reside there. Too many emotions battering against him constantly wore him down after a time.

The small space served its purpose, kept him feeling contained, and was far enough away from work and other people that it allowed his mind to rest. But he was still close enough to the Tower that what he spent on rent, he saved in transportation costs. Once he’d made sergeant, he could have afforded to move to better quarters, but there was no need. He sent the extra funds to his foster mother, ensuring she never had to worry about anything. Samuel owed her at least that much.

Dressing perfunctorily, Samuel slipped into his greatcoat and adjusted it on his frame. He needed to work, find some way to get out of his head and the torrent of images, get back to focusing on the prostitute’s death, the Archives traitor, and the mysterious note. Bolting down the stairs, he opened the door with a jerk, only to freeze.

Piper.

She stood still, hand poised to ring the bell, her eyes wide. She was wearing her normal archivist attire, but with a fascinator perched on her head, her hair pulled up into another one of her simple designs.

“Sam.” She stepped backward and ran her hand down the front of her skirts. “Forgive me,
sergeant
. I wouldn’t want to be accused of being improper. You appear to be in a hurry. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time?”

A blush bloomed on her cheeks, giving her the appearance of one of the ton misses he’d seen parading around the city. She was like them in so many ways, despite her recent experiences. He wanted to press her against the side of the building and ravage her mouth with his. To hell with whoever saw them, or what it would do to her standing with the Guild Masters.

Samuel tore his gaze from her and focused it on the iron walk down in the distance. “What are you doing here, Pip?”

“I—” She chuckled and gave her head a shake. “I had a speech planned. Something professional, formal. You probably would have laughed. Honestly, I slipped away from the Archives and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The scent of her rose petal soap drifted to him on the breeze, making his head buzz. Her lips were wet from where she’d been licking them, pulling the bottom one between her teeth. It was a nervous habit of hers he’d teased her about growing up. Samuel’s mind catalogued it all, slotting it neatly into the section of his mind that he’d reserved especially for memories of her.

Dear God, was she scared to be alone with him? “I get the feeling I should be asking you that. Am I making you nervous?”

“Please, you honestly think seeing you again bothers me?” Her soft smile did nothing to ease the undercurrent of emotions rolling off her. “It was a long night. Duty called and the like.”

“I seem to remember many long nights when we were children. You never got tired then.”

“I’d like to say it was as pleasant as our secret games of tag, but…” She gave her head a shake. “I’m holding you back from your day. I shouldn’t have come here.”

He caught her by the hand before she was able to pull away. Her relief tasted sweet in his mouth. “I’m glad you did. We haven’t had a chance to speak unwatched before.”

“Never in our lives.” Her arm relaxed and Samuel let his hand trail down until his fingers tangled with hers. Piper looked up, but gave her head a small shake. “I can’t, Sam. I want to, but I can’t.”

Samuel closed his eyes and let out a breath. Of course she couldn’t. Even standing alone on the street, they would never be completely free of the Archives. “I was on my way to the Tower. Accompany me and we can chat?”

“Thank you. I’ve always wanted to be on the arm of a man of the law.” Piper grinned as she fiddled with the front of her skirts. “Shall we?”

They fell into step with the rest of the crowd as they walked along the uneven cobblestones toward the Tower. Piper held her hands clasped in front of her and kept her eyes forward. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you well?”

“No.” He didn’t have it in him to hide the truth. Not from her.

BOOK: Gilded Hearts (The Shadow Guild Series)
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