The Mech Who Loved Me (London Steampunk: The Blue Blood Conspiracy #2)(6)

The duke locked the door. There was a file under Malloryn's arm, and Kincaid's gaze went directly to it. He'd been out of action for over a month while his broken nose healed, and he needed to get back to work.

"You put together a company of spies," he pointed out. "Don't be so surprised if we want to know everything that goes on 'round here."

Malloryn shot him a chilling smile. "Keeping you in the dark, Kincaid, gives me no small amount of enjoyment."

Bastard. His temper roused, but he fought to restrain it to just the muscle jumping in his cheek. Malloryn knew Kincaid didn't like him, and seemed to take perverse pleasure in pushing that fact in his face. If the prick didn't have access to something he desperately wanted, then he'd have pushed on from this whole scenario weeks ago.

Maybe.

There was the small matter of the Sons of Gilead and their intention to destroy the newfound peace in London; a peace Kincaid had worked hard for, three years ago, during the revolution. There was also the fact he needed the coin—and there was nowhere else he could earn this kind of living, doing violent reckless things, which was precisely his forte.

Destruction is your gift, after all. Kincaid rubbed his knuckles, trying to force his brother's words deep into the dark recesses of his memory. "Please tell me you've got something interesting for me."

"Something for all of you," Malloryn replied, slapping the file down.

That... was not quite what he'd planned. Kincaid glanced at Ava beneath his lashes. "I wasn't aware Miss McLaren was to be working in the field."

"Not usually, no," Isabella broke in. If Gemma was a seductress, then Isabella was a cool goddess, warming only when Malloryn looked at her. "But Miss McLaren's specialty is crime scene investigation and... other things of which this case has particular need."

"We have a crime scene?" Ava blurted.

"A fresh one," the duke replied, sliding the file toward her, which she grabbed with eager hands.

"Dhampir?" It had been over a month since the mysterious group of evolved blue bloods had revealed themselves as their opponents. Kincaid still couldn't quite come to terms with it. Blue bloods were bad enough, what with most of the aristocracy infected with the craving virus that made them what they were. Then there were vampires, who were a nightmare out of any old story, but they were bloodthirsty monsters, devolving to an entirely predatory existence. Terrifying and extremely difficult to kill, but driven purely by the thirst for blood.

Dhampir... were something else.

Kincaid crossed his arms subconsciously, his nose aching in remembrance. A blue blood's one fatal flaw was the fact that as the craving virus colonized them over time, they began to devolve into a vampire. However, two months ago the Rogues had discovered there was one other option available for those devolving blue bloods if they used an elixir vitae to control their transformation. Instead of dying during the last stages of the Fade and being reborn as a vampire, those blue bloods transformed into the dhampir. They bore the same strengths of a vampire—faster, stronger, almost impossible to kill—but they retained the rational instincts of a blue blood.

It scared the shit out of him.

"I don't know. There's been no sign of the Sons of Gilead, or this mysterious group of dhampir that are working against us." Malloryn handed over a photograph. "Until now. We know there was a power struggle within the Sons of Gilead and Lord Ulbricht won. He now leads the SOG, and their mission is to return the blue bloods and the Echelon to power. Ulbricht was spotted in Brighton two days ago, an agent of mine informs me. Whatever he's planning, I want to know about it. Gemma, fancy a little trip?"

The vivacious young woman snatched up the photograph, smiling down at the sneering face of Lord Ulbricht. "It would be a pleasure. Do you want him dead or alive?"

"Alive, preferably. I want to know everything he knows," the duke replied. "Take a dirigible to Brighton, and—" His gaze slid over them, making Kincaid stiffen, before the duke's eyes narrowed on Charlie Todd. "Take Charlie with you."

"To protect her?" Charlie asked.

Both Gemma and Malloryn snorted. Even Isabella succumbed to a faint smile.

"He's such a sweet boy," Gemma said, patting Charlie's cheek. "There are at least twelve ways I could kill you, Charlie, despite the fact you're a blue blood. For a human, there's at least a hundred. No, Malloryn wants to send you as a distraction for Ulbricht."

"I could do it," Kincaid said.

Isabella rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately, Kincaid, you're not quite the right sort of distraction."

He shot an incredulous look at Charlie, who'd crossed his arms over his chest. The lad was dangerous—all blue bloods were—but he was barely in his early twenties. "I—"

"You would terrify Ulbricht," Gemma hastened to add, as she slid an arm around Charlie's neck. "Charlie is young, handsome, intelligent, and—"

"Exactly Ulbricht's type," Malloryn concluded.

Both Kincaid and Charlie shot him a sharp look.

"I thought Ulbricht had a mistress," Charlie blurted, flushing bright red.

"He did," Malloryn said. "Zero, a young, beautiful blonde dhampir who was very dangerous. Ulbricht likes fair-haired youths of either gender. He also likes his bed play a little dangerous. Gemma will brief you on the flight."