Of Silk and Steam
Page 68

Then his sister was standing in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs, a huge man draped over her shoulder as she tried to help him inside. Barely tall enough to reach Leo’s shoulder, yet somehow she kept her husband on his feet.
Lena’s weary eyes met his, relief widening them. “Oh thank goodness. Oh, Leo! I didn’t know what had happened to you.”
Blade thundered down the stairs past him and caught Will under the arm. Leo followed, squeezing Lena’s shoulder and planting a kiss on her tearstained cheek before she urged him to help her husband. Will stank of blood and smoke, his teeth bared in pain as they shouldered him through the door.
“Upstairs,” Blade commanded.
With a grunt, Leo bent to lift Will’s legs. Will snarled and Lena grabbed his hand. “Easy. Easy, Will. It’s Leo and Blade.”
They staggered their way up the stairs with him, cursing and swearing. Will towered over both of them by a good few inches, his shoulders broad enough to make getting him through the door a hassle. Every step made blood weep at Will’s side, and Leo’s arm was warm with it.
Lena bit her lip. Her husband’s enormous body shook violently as they eased him onto the daybed the duchess had vacated. “You’re safe now. We’re both safe. We’re at the Warren.”
Blade jerked Lena against him in a quick hug before snapping orders at the trio of men who’d followed him in, all exhausted verwulfen by the look of them.
“Christ, don’t you look a right treat,” Blade said when they cleared the room, then knelt over Will in a rough hug and thumped his back. Strain lines tightened around his mouth. “Thought you weren’t comin’ ’ome to me, you big brute.”
Leo turned away to give the two men privacy. The relationship between them was complex. Blade had rescued the lad from a cage at the age of fifteen and taught him what the words “safety” and “home” meant. They weren’t brothers, nor father and son, but family all the same.
Lena threw herself into Leo’s arms the second he turned and he clung to her, resting his chin on her head. Crushing his eyes closed as he breathed in the smoky scent of her. Thank God.
“They attacked the house,” Lena said as she drew back. “We didn’t even know what was happening, but Max helped Will get me out. The whole city’s afire with riots and metaljackets. Word on the streets claimed you’d been sentenced as a traitor and the prince consort had given Blade ’til morning to surrender you. That it was war between the Ivory Tower and the rookeries.” She dashed at her welling eyes with her dirty sleeve. “Will was hurt badly trying to get us to safety, but we knew we had to be here.” She looked at her husband. “He wouldn’t let me tend it. Not until he knew I was safe.”
Blade had taken over, ushering Will onto his back on the sofa and peeling him out of his bloodied shirt. He saw the stab wound and winced. “’E’s ’ealin’. Need to get some food into ’im.”
The loupe virus that verwulfen suffered from could heal almost anything, though it took its toll. The verwulfen were insanely strong and virtually unstoppable in battle, but once the fight was over, their entire systems shut down for them to recuperate. And now that he had gotten his wife to safety, Will slumped back on the sofa and passed out.
“I know how he feels,” Lena said with a weary smile. She too was verwulfen now.
“Stay awake,” Blade told her. “We need to know what’s goin’ on in the city.”
“Insanity. Master Reed was arrested earlier this morning, as well as several high-ranking Nighthawks. Lynch was thrown in the dungeons last night for refusing to assist in Leo’s capture.”
“They’re still alive?” Leo demanded.
A helpless shrug. “There are fires all over that section of town. The Coldrush Guards have surrounded the Nighthawks Guild and have warned them not to attempt anything.”
“Shit, were ’opin’ Reed might be able to get Morioch off me back.” Blade and Leo shared a glance. “We won a brief reprieve, but Morioch’ll be back, and this time he’ll come in strength.” One of the verwulfen returned with bread and a bowl of clean water, and Blade dismissed him to tend his own wounds. “Sorry, luv,” Blade muttered. “Looks like you might’ve come to the wrong ’aven. Least you can ’elp me get ’Onor and the baby out—”
“Baby?” Lena demanded. “She’s had the baby?”
“A little girl.” Both pride and fear softened Blade’s voice. “Emmaline Grace.”
“I’m an aunt?”
Leo cut his hand through the air to still her. “You can see her later. I’m sorry, Lena, there’s no time at the moment.” He turned to Mina. “Morioch will return. The rookery will fall. These points are certain. We don’t have the men or the manpower here to defeat a full legion of metaljackets.”
The duchess circled the daybed, wearing Blade’s shirt and a pair of leggings. Her feet were bare, her glorious red hair tumbling around her kiss-ravaged face.
Their eyes met and then her gaze turned to Lena.
“My sister,” he told her. Lena gasped and looked up at him. “It’s all right,” he said. “The Council knows the truth. That’s what set off this entire catastrophe.”
“No, it ain’t,” Blade muttered from where he was cleaning Will’s wound with the water. “Only, some of us is arrogant enough to think it.”
Lena eyed the duchess warily. “Leo, what’s going on?”
“Her Grace is helping us with our little problem.” He helped Lena to sit in a padded armchair, handing her a piece of the bread. There was blood at her temples.
“You can trust her.” He gestured for Mina to continue her story as he examined the lump hidden in Lena’s dark hair. The skin was red, but whatever cut she’d suffered had closed already. “Lena’s aware of the humanists—”
“I know.”
And Mina would. Lena had once been a spy for the humanists until it grew too dangerous.
“Seems a day o’ revelations,” Blade muttered, tearing a strip off his own shirt to bandage Will’s side. “Turns out we finally found that money trail for the ’umanist movement that we were lookin’ for when we got you out. Meet the puppet master ’erself.”