Of Silk and Steam Page 49

Before he knew it, Leo was swearing under his breath as he tried to keep up with the two of them. Charlie had snatched two of the handlers’ control devices before anyone even knew they were there, and Lark led the diversion while Leo and Tin Man got Charlie the hell out of there.

Leo had to remind himself that they’d both lived, though he wasn’t certain how long it was going to be before he changed that state of affairs. Pausing at the base of the wall, he picked up the grappling guns they’d hidden before they ventured out. Charlie aimed his grappling gun and triggered the hook, watching it soar into the sky. Lark barely had a chance to grab hers before Charlie slung an arm around her hips and triggered the recoil. “Allow me, milady.”

With a feminine curse and a masculine laugh, the pair of them sailed up over the wall that circled Whitechapel.

“When did I get so bloody old?” Leo growled as Tin Man handled his grappling device.

The man was mute—someone had cut out his tongue years ago—but his eyes were eloquent enough. He clapped a hand on Leo’s shoulder twice, a faint smile on his scarred lips as he vanished after them. As far as Leo was aware, the man was some kind of father or uncle to Lark.

Leo followed suit. The rush of air past his body as he jerked to the top of the wall was exhilarating.

“’Ave fun?” Rip unscrewed his flask and handed it to him.

Leo drained it. Served the bastard right. “They’re completely insane. Think they’re invulnerable, both of them trying to outdo each other like it was a fucking game. Snatch the handler. All the rage in the streets of the rookery.”

Rip snorted. “Blade tells ’em they’re gonna give ’im gray ’airs.”

At least Leo wasn’t alone in this. “We got two of them,” he said gruffly, removing the control devices from the leather bag that was slung across his chest. “Where’d they go?”

“Out of reach, I’d imagine.” Rip eyed the control device Leo handed him, turning it this way and that. “Think you know what to do with this?”

“Not a clue,” Leo replied, examining the device in his own hands. “That’s why I brought back two of them. Now, if you’d excuse me, I’d best go see if Honoria wants to tinker with me.”

* * *

Honoria bit her lip, staring at the mess of springs and cogs in the back of the opened device. “I’m not entirely certain I know what to do, Leo. This is more akin to Lena’s work than mine.”

He knew his younger sister had great skill with clockwork toys and transformationals—which were all the rage after she’d created one for the Scandinavian verwulfen ambassadors—but it was difficult to imagine his pretty, fashion-plate sister manipulating the workings of the control device. Besides… “She’s not here. All we have are you and me.”

A shiver went through Honoria’s body and she paced, wincing a little as she chewed on her knuckle. A little out of character, he thought, though perhaps the state of the rookery’s affairs concerned her more than she’d let on.

“I understand how the device works and what each piece is,” he said, picking up a pair of thin pliers. He poked at some wires, trying to make sense of them. “They used Leyden jars to store the charge before they managed to fine-tune it, but now… The capacitor must be here somewhere. Here’s the spark-gap…high-voltage induction coil… All of it based on Hertz’s work, of course. This piece sends out the signal, I believe, though I’m not quite certain how to change it—or if it will even correlate with the matching chip in the metaljacket’s head once I do.” He looked up. “Honoria?”

She blinked.

“Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

The restless shift of her knuckles in the small of her back caught his attention. Leo frowned. “Are you all right?”

“I’m…frightened.” Honoria rubbed the small of her back, her face paling. For the first time he looked at her, truly looked. Saw the fine white lines around her eyes and the darker shadows beneath them. Saw too the way she kept knuckling her back.

“Blazes,” he whispered. “You’re having pains, aren’t you?”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “It’s been happening on and off for a few weeks. The midwife said it’s quite normal, and that if I were to lie down, it would most likely subside. But…they’ve been growing stronger all night. I’ve been trying to hold it in, but what am I going to do?”

“I’ll get Blade. I’ll tell him—”

“No!” Honoria caught his wrist, bending forward and gasping a little, as though to ease some sort of internal pain. Her face screwed up in a grimace, and Leo winced under the sudden assault on his wrist.

It seemed to go on forever, and then she let out an expulsion of breath and started panting. “Don’t…tell him. Not now. He cannot afford to be distracted. I won’t distract him right now.” Her expression firmed. “I can hold it. I can. I know I can.”

“Blood and blazes.” Leo scraped a hand over his mouth, nearly stabbing himself in the eye with the pliers. What the devil was he supposed to do? His mouth went dry. This was entirely outside his realm of understanding, but he could understand her desperation. Honoria would never admit it, but there was fear in her eyes—for her husband, for her baby, and for herself. “Esme,” he said. “I’ll fetch Esme.”

“Don’t leave me alone.” Her fingers tightened pitifully.

Leo rubbed a hand over the small of her back and gently directed her to an armchair in the corner of her laboratory. “I’ll only be gone a minute. I need to fetch Esme.” Coherent thought began to form in his head. A plan. God. “Esme will know how to fetch the midwife. I don’t see any reason why we need to tell Blade right at this moment. It’s entirely possible this is being brought about by the emotion of the moment and that the pains will subside as they usually do. Is this correct?”

That look of trust on her face… It killed him.

“I want you to stay here, and I’ll return as soon as I’ve found her.”

* * *

It wasn’t as simple as that, it seemed.

“They’re firing the rookeries!” Lark called, darting into the room.

Leo helped lower his sister onto the edge of the bed. Honoria was biting her lip, though she’d not uttered a single sound since he returned.

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