The Chess Queen Enigma
Read The Chess Queen Enigma Online
Authors: Colleen Gleason
To
Darlene Domanik March
Talented artist,
Inspiring teacher,
Dear friend
Copyright © 2015 by Colleen Gleason.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
Gleason, Colleen, author.
The chess queen enigma: a Stoker & Holmes novel / by Colleen Gleason.
pages cm
Summary: In 1889 London, vampire-hunter Evaline Stoker and investigator Mina Holmes once again join forces at the request of the Princess of Walesâthis time their mission is to escort and protect a princess who is part of a trade mission from Betrovia, a country which has had a rocky relationship with England, starting with a four hundred-year-old dispute over a valuable Byzantine chessboard.
ISBN 978-1-4521-4317-0 (Hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4521-4686-7 (epub 2)
1. Detective and mystery stories. 2. VampiresâJuvenile fiction. 3. PrincessesâJuvenile fiction. 4. ChessboardsâJuvenile fiction. 5. London (England)âHistoryâ19th centuryâJuvenile fiction. [1. Mystery and detective stories. 2. VampiresâFiction. 3. PrincessesâFiction. 4. ChessboardsâFiction. 5. London (England)âHistoryâ19th centuryâFiction.
6. Great BritainâHistoryâVictoria, 1837-1901âFiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.G481449Ch 2015
813.6âdc23
[Fic]
2014047273
Design by Jennifer Tolo Pierce.
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In Which Our Heroines Take on Two Tasks
Wherein the Importance of a Matter Is Argued
Wherein Miss Stoker Serves as Lady's Maid
Wherein Our Heroine Plods About the Dance Floor
Wherein Our Heroines Make an Exceptional Blunder
Wherein Mr. Holmes Is Pressed into Service
Wherein the Mechanics of Vampire Slaying Are Considered
Wherein an Uninvited Guest Insists upon Poker
In Which Miss Stoker Is Subjected to Some Courting
Miss Holmes Makes a Prudent Exit
A Service of Tea and Prevarication
In Which Our Heroine Is Enlightened About a Number of Things
Wherein an Evil Device Redeems Itself
In Which the Inspector Is Decisively Overruled
In Which Our Heroine Is Thoroughly Rooked
An Astonishing Request
Y
ou killed him. You killed my brother!
I woke with a start and my eyes bolted open.
My heart was pounding and the sheets covering my skin were damp. Darkness pressed into me. I fought to shake off the dream, but awful visions of blood and darkness, fangs and glowing red eyes, still danced in my mind.
You killed my brother!
The shrieking accusation echoed in my head.
How could you kill him?
I flung off the bedcovers and stumbled to the window with shaky knees. Silvery moonlight filtered over the tree looming just outside, but there was no flash of evil red eyes to be seen.
As I drew in deep breaths of dank, gloomy London air, my pulse slowed. Surrounding me was the constant undercurrent of steamâthe breath of our city, flowing and hissing like that of a massive being.
In the distance, Big Ben's round face glowed dully behind strands of heavy night clouds. Pikes, pipes, and the pitches of rooftops, along with the unmistakable spire of the Oligary Building, jutted upward in an infinite black jumble.
I'd done the right thing, staking the vampire.
I was a vampire hunter. That was my calling, my legacy. I couldn't second-guess my duty.
But Willa Ashton's accusations and her enraged expression still haunted me, both during the day and in my nightmares.
You killed Robby! You murdered my brother!
A shadow across the street, sleek and catlike, caught my attention. All thoughts of Miss Ashton and her brother fled, along with the last bit of sleepiness.
I recognized that shadow.
It took only a moment to whip off my nightdress and yank on a pair of boots, a chemise, and a short, simple gown (in that order). I was still buckling my new front-fastening over-corset when I climbed out the window.
While I dressed, I'd watched the shadow slip across the empty road and into the darkness spawned by our neighbor's hedge. So when I landed on the ground, light and soundless, I knew where he would be waiting.
But before I could open my mouth, a dusky voice spoke in my ear, “That was a righ' quick change o' duds, luv. Unless ye were sleepin' in yer boots.”
I managed to control my startled reaction. How did he move so fast? “Perhaps someday you'll learn not to underestimate me, Pix.”
He laughed softly, and the sound traveled down my spine as if he'd traced it with a finger. “Evaline, luv, yer the one person I would never underestimate.”
My knees felt trembly again, and I decided it would be best to put some distance between myself and the disreputable, annoying,
sneaky
pickpocket. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought ye migh' want some company on yer patrols.” Pix remained in the shadow of the tree, but I could still make out the pale shape of his eyes, a sliver of light along one side of his jaw, and the messy cloud of dark hair. I'd also come to know him well enough to recognize the exaggerated nonchalance in his voice.
“Is that so?” I asked, realizing I sounded uncomfortably like my cohort, Mina Holmes. If she were here, she'd probably already have deduced how Pix had gotten to my neighborhood, why he was present, and what he'd last eaten. I pushed away the thoughts of my know-it-all partnerâwho claimed her unnatural ability was merely a practice of observation and deductionâand shifted to get a better look at him. “How many nights have you been lurking here, waiting for me to go out?”
I felt a little exposed, and I don't mean because I was hardly dressed (at least by my sister-in-law's standards).
The truth was, despite the fact that three weeks ago I'd slain nearly a dozen vampires in the space of seven days, I
hadn't
been out on the streets, looking for more UnDead. Not since that awful episode with Willa Ashton. And if Pix had been watching and waiting for me each night, he would know I had been shirking my duty.
I pushed away a niggle of guilt.
“Now, luv, don' yet get yer corset lacings all mollied up. I jus' happened t'be in th' vicinity and thought I might find ye climbin' down yer tree.”
A Night-Illuminator trundled by, burping steam and sending a small circle of golden yellow light around in its wake. Pix and I shifted as one, moving out of the edge of its glow.
“I haven't seen any UnDead since that night in Smithfield,” I said, which, strictly speaking, was the truthâmainly because I hadn't been looking for them. I was certain there weren't any left in the city anyway. Or so I'd been telling myself. “Have you?”
“Nay, luv. Nary a red eye nor a fang t'be seenâat least in Whitechapel and thereabouts.”
I relaxed slightly. After all, it had been Pix who'd warned me the vampires had returned to London for the first time in decades. “So what brings you to this âvicinity'”âI'd noticed the inconsistency of his Cockney beforeâ“that made it convenient for you to be calling on me?”
His shadowed expression changed, and for a moment, I thought he wasn't going to answer. His lips flattened, his gaze shifted away . . . then came to focus, sharp and dark, on me. “I need yer 'elp, Evaline.”
I blinked and closed my mouth, which had fallen open. Then I grinned. “Of course you do. So . . . what's the problem? You said you haven't seen any vampires around, so it can't be my stake you need. . . . Is Big Marv giving you a difficult time? You need someone to put him in his place again? Break
another finger? Orâwait, I knowâyou want me to be your arm-wrestling champion for some big competition. No worry, there, Pix,
luv
 . . . I'm happy to stand in for you.” I could hardly control my glee. “Or are you looking for pointers about your wardrobe? You could stand to replace that overcoat. It's a bit shabby, and there are some fine Betrovian woolâ”