Part 28 (1/2)

Wings. Bennett had fixed wings strapped to his back like an improvised angel. They caught the wind and held like a gliding hawk. The sensation of flight swirled through her as she held fast to Bennett's lean, powerful body. She felt as though Eros himself whisked her away to his lair, borne aloft on silken wings, sea and sky a spinning kaleidoscope.

”Catullus Graves?” she asked, astonished beyond imagining.

A corner of Bennett's mouth turned up as he nodded. His smile died when the shrieks of the winged creature pierced the air.

The beast swooped close, claws outstretched. Bennett held London with one arm and used the other to fire his revolver at the creature. It snarled, flapping backwards out of the path of the bullet, then dove at them again. Bennett shot again, this time clipping the tip of the monster's wing. Black blood splattered into the sky as the creature bellowed in wounded outrage.

”What the h.e.l.l is that?” London shouted.

”Rakshasa,” Bennett said, grim. ”Hindu demon. Chernock's controlling him. Hang on.” Bennett said, grim. ”Hindu demon. Chernock's controlling him. Hang on.”

She and Bennett swooped lower and flew over the deck of the Heirs' steams.h.i.+p. Men scattered on all sides, throwing themselves to the deck as they shouted in alarm. One man tried to grab London's ankle as she and Bennett sailed overhead, but she kicked the man's hands away. Bennett nodded in approval. She was getting quite good with her kicks.

No time for self-congratulations. The demon sped after them, close at their heels. Bennett tugged on the straps at his shoulders, altering their path. London's breath stopped when she saw that he guided them into a collision course with one of the steams.h.i.+p's sidewheels.

Just before they slammed into the sidewheel, Bennett pulled on the straps again and they climbed up, over the metal wheel. The demon hadn't a moment to realize what happened before it bashed into the sidewheel. Its screams and the sounds of crumpling wood and metal filled the air.

Bennett piloted them to the caique, skimming them over the waves like a gull, the Heirs' s.h.i.+p at their backs. He landed in a run. He slid the wings' straps from his shoulders as London continued to cleave to him. Her feet touched the deck of the caique for the first time in what felt like days.

”All right?” asked Bennett, wrapping his arms around her. His gaze on her face was fierce and protective.

She couldn't stop her giddy laugh. ”I'd like to do that again, under better circ.u.mstances.”

He started, grinned, then buried his face in her hair. She couldn't tell if the shaking came from him or her, but they couldn't part from each other, not even when Kallas and Athena came running up, both holding rifles and chattering with excitement.

”Graves truly is is another Daedalus,” Kallas exclaimed. another Daedalus,” Kallas exclaimed.

”We had no way to warn you.” Athena, slightly less exultant, was all information. ”The Heirs concealed their s.h.i.+p until it was already on us. Kallas and I held them off as best we could. And then Chernock summoned that rakshasa rakshasa.” She glanced over with a sneer at the steams.h.i.+p, where the demon still lay in the twisted wreckage of the sidewheel. Men ran about the deck of the s.h.i.+p with buckets and equipment as a trickle of smoke leaked from the smokestacks on the disabled s.h.i.+p. ”Did you get what you needed?”

”Think so,” panted Bennett, who still held London. She wasn't eager to let him go, either.

”Then let's hoist anchor,” said Kallas.

”Release my daughter,” a very familiar voice said, icy cold. ”Or I'll put a bullet in the witch.”

Everyone's heads turned to see London's father standing on the deck of the caique, a revolver pointed at Athena. London had never seen her father as he was now, darkest fury twisting his distinguished features into a grotesque mask. It was like witnessing a demonic possession. London fought the urge to cower in Bennett's arms.

”Do it!” her father barked, when Bennett continued to hold London. Her father pulled back the revolver's hammer. Athena blanched while Kallas swore.

Bennett, seeing no other choice, slowly let his arms fall away from London, but he continued to stand behind her, his body pressed to hers.

”Come with me, London. I have a rowboat.” Her father tipped his head starboard. ”I'll take you away from these people, get you safe again.”

Swallowing hard, London stepped away from Bennett. She heard his sharp intake of breath, like a man cut.

London would not let herself look back. She held her father's gaze as she walked closer to him. ”I'm staying, Father.”

She thought she heard a breath of relief from Bennett, but the sound was too low for her to know for certain.

London waited for her father to shout or rage, but he merely looked grimly determined, as though he expected her answer. ”No, you are not. It's all right, London,” he said, placating. ”I understand. You aren't thinking clearly. Your emotions have led you astray. You are even wearing trousers trousers.” He grimaced. ”The London I raised would never wear such indecent clothing.”

”I haven't-”

But her father plowed on, unheeding. ”It's not your fault. You're only a woman. Easily beguiled by your sensitive nature. That's why we men need women like you. To ensure we have hearts as well as minds. Day knew this. He preyed upon you, seduced you.” Her father sent Bennett a vicious glare before returning his gaze to her. ”You couldn't help yourself.”

Frustration began to replace fear. Her father wasn't listening.

”Father, no,” she said. ”Bennett didn't seduce or beguile me. He told me the truth. He was the first man to ever tell me the truth.”

”Filled your head with nonsense!”

”It wasn't nonsense,” she returned, determined to keep her voice level. Any sign of pa.s.sion or emotion would only be read as female hysteria. ”I learned about you, about the Heirs. And the more I heard, the more I realized that what you are doing is wrong. One country should not determine the fate of the entire world. One race of people is not superior to all others. And to enslave magic for your cause is immoral.”

When her father had no answer, she stepped closer. Confusion swam in his eyes. He seemed much older, all of a sudden. It was strange that here, now, on the deck of the caique, in a far stretch of sea thousands of miles from home, London saw him now not as her father, but as a man. Fallible, vulnerable. Human. She wished, suddenly, fervently, that she might convince her father of the Blades' cause, that he might leave the Heirs so that she and he could repair the tatters of their familial bond.

”I made a choice choice, Father,” London said, gentling her voice. ”A deliberate choice. One I thought about for a good long while. I cannot let the Heirs subjugate the world for England's gain. It is wrong. And I think, I hope, that deep down, you know what I say to be true. Please, Father,” she whispered, feeling her eyes grow hot. She stood not five feet from him, saw his chest rise and fall as he gulped air, almost panting. ”It isn't too late. Not for you or for us.”

She waited, her pulse a speeding river, everything she ever was and would be in her eyes for her father to see. A memory leapt into London's mind, of her father taking her as a very small girl to the Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park and buying her a toy lion. He had wanted to give her something more suitable for a girl, a pretty toy zebra or even a giraffe, but she would have nothing but the lion, and he had bought it for her, a fond smile upon his face as he gave her the toy, and he said she would have to feed it often or else it might get hungry and eat one of the housemaids. She had promised to feed the lion, sneaking it bits of biscuits after tea, during nap time, until her nurse scolded her for bringing food into her bed, and then she got older and forgot all about the toy. Where was it now? In some dusty corner of the nursery? Given away?

”Oh, London,” her father said sadly. He heaved a great sigh, as if crumbling from the inside, and his shoulders sagged. He lowered the revolver. ”I see now. I see what I must do.”

Her chest tightened with hope. He understood! They could both be saved. And Mother, too. Jonas...would take time. But surely if she could convince her father to abandon the Heirs, it could be done for Jonas, too. And then- ”Father!” London yelped as her father raised the revolver again. And pointed it at her heart.

”This is a mercy,” her father said. ”To save our family's honor, and yours.”

She stared at him. He was glacial, impenetrable, a frozen edifice where, moments earlier, he had been a man, a parent. In his eyes, there was no recognition, only cold determination to eliminate an adversary.

London knew she should flee or duck or do something something, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. Her father would kill her. Her father father.

Then there was a blur and a grunt, and London hardly knew what was happening until she saw Bennett throw his shoulder into her father's chest. The older man, startled, hadn't time to defend himself, and he dropped his gun as he toppled backward, over the rail. She heard a splash and a shout.

Bennett leaned far over the rail, but halted his momentum enough to keep from joining her father in the water. He turned and didn't spare her father a glance. ”Get us the h.e.l.l out of here,” he commanded Kallas.

London could only stand as Athena and Bennett helped with the sails, Kallas raising anchor and steering the caique away from the damaged steams.h.i.+p. Dimly, she heard men in another rowboat coming to her father's aid, pulling him from the water.

She was vaguely aware of the caique's motion, sailing swiftly away from the island of the Colossus. Wind and sun, the pitch of the boat. She felt these things from a great distance. It wasn't until the island was far behind them, and the Heirs, and her father, that London was finally able to move. She took several leaden steps toward the quarterdeck house, not sure where she was going, feeling entirely entombed in ice.

Bennett strode to her, and his arms came up around her, pulling her against him. He was warm, so warm, that she began to thaw. He rocked her, softly.

”Don't cry, love,” he crooned.

Her hand came up to touch her cheek and came away wet. ”I never truly believed. Not until now. Some part of me prayed things could be set to rights.” Fire lined her throat. It hurt to speak, yet she could not stop herself. ”He wants to kill me, Bennett. My own father will murder me, if given the chance.”

Profound sorrow gleamed in Bennett's eyes as he gazed down at her, brus.h.i.+ng her hair from her face. ”I'm sorry. I'm so b.l.o.o.d.y sorry.”

She buried her face against his chest, solid and broad, allowing herself this moment to fully lean on him, take some of the strength he readily offered. ”I don't regret my choice,” she said, her voice m.u.f.fled as she pressed herself tight. ”If I had to, I'd make the exact same decisions. But it hurts so d.a.m.ned much.”