Alchemist's Kiss Read online

  “Sorry, old friend.” The Captain grabbed Josiah's arm with his glowing hand, and the demon's screaming became unbearable. I covered my ears and closed my eyes. I didn't want to see as the body crumbled with the demon inside.

  “Cora.”

  Strong hands took my shoulders, and I opened my eyes to meet the rather riveting ones of the Captain. They were blue, and ringed by golden lashes. Blue like the lake I swam in at Granny Mae's. My mind began to drift, but a shake of my shoulders brought me back. I looked down at the talisman in my hand.

  “Granny Mae was right.”

  “If your Granny told you that what you hold is one of the most powerful magical objects in existence then yes, she was right.”

  “She said I was going to need it. She's seen my future, and I was going to need the talisman.”

  “I'd daresay your Granny was correct. Every demon and magical scavenger on ten planes can smell that.”

  “What do I do now?”

  The Captain let go of me, and I noticed that his gloves were on again. “You may give me the talisman and go on about your life, if you choose. I can keep it safe.”

  “Will the demons and scavengers,” I shivered at the word, “still find me?”

  His mouth twisted. “Likely.”

  “What else can I do, then?”

  He crossed his arms and stared down at me. He was a rather tall man, with broad shoulders and sharp features. Only the lashes and the curls saved him from severity. “Travel with me. I will keep you safe. Perhaps you can help me with my work.”

  “What is your work, Captain?”

  “You'd best call me Icarus. I'm an alchemist, a wizard, and a demon hunter.”

  And a damned handsome one you've found, too, little miss.

  I laughed at Granny Mae's antics, and his frown grew. No doubt he imagined I was about to have a feminine fit of the vapors and fall into a swoon on the floor. I sobered and looked up at him as I squared my shoulders. I was CorCora Mae Jenkins. Granddaughter of Mae McDonough Jenkins and a woman with a good head on her shoulders. I couldn't deny what I'd seen with my own eyes, and Granny's prediction was true. My future did, indeed, include my need for the talisman.

  I held out my hand to the Captain and he took it cautiously. “Cora Mae Jenkins. Nice to meet you.” I introduced myself.

  He shook my hand once, then twice. “Icarus Kane. And you, Miss Cora.”

  I took my hand away and held up the talisman. It winked as the light of the moon caught the silver. “I accept your offer, Captain Kane.”

  Granny's voice was full of triumphant pride as it passed my ear for the last time. I'd always known she was watching over me, and I let her voice caress me as she finally said goodbye. At last, little miss, your destiny is set. Keep the wizard close, for he will save you in the end.

  London, England 1869

  *six years, and numerous adventures, later*

  CHAPTER ONE

  “How many do you think there are?”

  He couldn't see his friend, but he heard the click of the pistol. “More than we anticipated.”

  “I anticipated a lot.”

  “As did I.” Icarus sighed. The fog off the Thames had rolled in and it drenched them in the wet smells of fish and refuse. He hated being wet. He hated being cold. And he really, really hated demons. He'd lost count, but there were at least fifty in the fog surrounding them. Eyes glowed from the darkness, but they'd yet to come any closer.

  “Can you sense the master?”

  Icarus shook his head, though he knew it was futile in the fog. “No. I'm blocked.”

  “Perhaps if you'd listened to me you'd have found him by now.”

  Icarus groaned out loud at the rustle of skirts and the definite click of a parasol in the fog. “I am certain I told you to remain at the hotel.”

  “And I'm certain that you're not my keeper, Icarus.”

  A light flared as his friend put a match to the lantern and Cora came into view. Every glorious inch of her. She'd come a long way from the blood and mud-spattered Southern belle he'd found on the Gettysburg battlefield. She tapped the toe of her perfectly buffed Parisian boot and shook her parasol at him. Her dress today was ruffles and lace in an emerald satin that lit up her hair like fire. It bared enough décolletage to make a man swoon, and the white column of her throat gave way to a face any modern painter would die to paint. If only, Icarus thought with a glower, her mouth were as sweet as the rest of her.

  “It's dangerous, Cora.”

  She stepped closer to their companion and took his arm in her daintily gloved palm. “I'm sure Archie will protect me if you can't, Icarus.”

  Icarus didn't have to look to see the wide smile on the face of his friend. “His name is Archimedes. Not Archie.”

  “I'm sure he doesn't mind.” She leaned closer and Icarus could imagine the rose and powdered scent of her in Archimedes' nose.

  “It's true. I don't mind.”

  Icarus shot his friend a sour look. Archimedes Merriweather was a giant of a man. He stretched his tweeds near to bursting, and his bowler looked a child's size on his head.

  Cora cocked her head. “Your timing is off, Archie. Might want to have that checked when we return to the hotel.”

  “Yes, madam.”

  Icarus glared harder at the two of them. Cora was right, though. The consistent ticking from beneath Archimedes' jacket was off slightly.

  “How did you get through?” he asked Cora, pulling at his glove. His palm itched, the magical rune branded there already burning with power.

  She reached into her cleavage and Icarus held back a groan as she pulled the talisman from between her breasts.

  “They backed away.”

  “Of course they backed away. The diabhal laimhe will send them all back to Hell if they touch it.”

  She smiled and tucked it gently back into her dress. “Then I suppose I'm in no need of protection.”

  “On the contrary, if the master shows up here tonight you will be his first target. The Hand is every evil wizard's prize.”

  He hated the way her face paled, but she always underestimated the danger when she carried the talisman. As expected, she was not cowed for long. Never his Cora.

  Her chin went up. “That's why I have you and Archie.”

  “Not to worry, madam.” Archimedes shot Icarus an angry look. “We've done this many times before.”

  Icarus strode forward and stood directly in front of them both. “This is different. There have never been this many demons in London. We must be careful.”

  Cora stroked his arm, and he felt himself softening. He always softened toward her, even when she made him monumentally angry. Something about her verdant green eyes brought out his forgiving nature.

  “Stay close to Archimedes. When I remove the glove...”

  She rolled her eyes. He ground his teeth at her insolence. The chit.

  “Do not move into the path of the light or our souls will be burnt from our bodies. As Archie said, we've done this before.”

  Icarus turned away because he did not want to confess that he had a bad feeling about tonight. That he worried about the churning in his gut that usually signaled something big on the horizon. That he was scared. Not of demons or their wizard master, but scared for his friends. Scared for himself.

  He shook his head to clear his worries and pulled his jar of ink from his pocket. He shook it vigorously before uncorking it.

  “This is always my favorite part.” he heard Cora whisper to Archimedes, and he could not resist the smile that crossed his lips. Cora was not a novice of magic anymore, but she maintained her wide-eyed wonder at even the simplest of spells.

  “Gaotha an athaithe, treoir mo lamh.” He spilled a drop of ink from the bottle and watched as it slowed in the air, and then hovered a foot or so above the ground. “Larracht mo foe dom.” The ink wavered, pulled first to the right and then to the left, but he could feel the magic as it began to spin in the air. It tumbled over and over, un
til the droplet shot into the air and spelled out a name.

  LAGHAIRT

  Icarus motioned and the ink returned to the bottle with a plop.

  “The lizard?” Cora looked between Icarus and Archimedes. “Who is 'the lizard'?”

  Archimedes shook his head. “I am not familiar with that name.”

  “It's not a name.” Icarus pushed the ink into his jacket pocket and looked at them. “It's a place. A bar, more precisely, on the East End.”

  His head snapped up as the sound of claws on stone met their ears. The master had sensed their magic, and knew they were looking for him. He'd instructed the demons to attack. He looked at Archimedes.

  “Do not let her get hurt.”

  His friend scowled at him but nodded.

  Icarus turned to Cora. “Keep clear of the light. I mean it.” He held up his gloved hand when she opened her mouth to object. “I won't hear an argument on this, Cora. Promise me.”

  She closed her mouth and smashed her lips together, nodding her head. He turned from them and began pulling off his left glove. The rune was hotter now, and if felt like melted steel laid against his palm. That's what it was really, the scar from a brand, designed to burn the reminder of the magic into his mind and soul forever.

  He looked down at it as it glowed brightly in the murk. Most wizards studied lifetimes for the magic he wielded, but it had been forced on him. Pushed into his body, heart and soul when he was only eleven years old; he supposed he might get used to the horror of the memory in time, but it hadn't faded much in the last seventeen years. Every time he looked at the symbols he remembered the pain of the magic as it tore through him. Rearranging him into something he'd never wished to be. A wizard. A murderer.

  A growl met his ears and he snapped himself from his ill-begotten remembrances. Nothing good came of despairing the past. He raised his hand and the light from the magic illuminated the demons surrounding them. They were of all shapes and sizes, colors and levels of horror. Some small, almost childlike, with big eyes and sharp, sharp teeth. Others snake-like and covered in scales with mouths that could swallow an adult man whole. Some only smoke that could dissolve the flesh from your bones if you dared get close enough to touch.

  “Stand back, scourge.” he warned. He didn't know why he bothered, but it must have come from his ingrained sense of fair play. Give them enemy a chance to run before you destroy them. The demons growled, some howled with laughter. They shifted closer, tightening the circle around him and his friends. He glanced at Archimedes, who had his pistol and cane ready. The pistol's silver bullets would deter the flesh and blood demons, and the cane was carved with runes to ward off the smokey ones. Cora held the talisman in her hand, tight against her bosom.

  “Solas a dorchadas, chigo se plague.” The words of power were simple, but the alley lit up like the sun had suddenly come to Earth. Icarus shaded his eyes with his right hand as his left poured the magical energy outward. He kept the beam narrow, under his total control. If he dared to let it free it would burn everyone and everything in London to ashes.

  Archimedes fired at a demon who tried to run at his back, and the thing writhed on the ground. Cora darted forward and touched it with the talisman, turning it to dust. The others became afraid, trying to run as Icarus moved the light, illuminating every nook and cranny of the alley. He turned in a full circle, Archimedes and Cora turning with him to stay out of the way of the magic. He felt his energy waning as he finally completed the turn. He closed his hand, the magic dying out at his command. When he began to slump, it was Cora's soft shoulder he came to lean on.

  “I'm too heavy for you, Cora dear.” he whispered against her ear. Roses and powder, he thought blearily as she struggled to hold him up. She reached for his ungloved hand but he jerked it away with a shake of his weary head.

  “No. Mustn't ever touch that.”

  “Someday you'll learn that we're not all stupid just because we aren't as smart as you.” she reprimanded him, grabbing onto his wrist and shoving his glove onto his fingers with a huff.

  “I know you're not stupid, Cora.”

  She softened at his whisper, and it was as close as they'd come to an apology between them in months. She touched his cheek as Archimedes took his weight.

  “Archie will take us home, Icarus. You need to rest.”

  “We need to go to the Lizard.”

  “Nothing good can come of that tonight. We know where the master is, and we can find him tomorrow.” She patted his cheek with a bit more strength. “But tonight you must rest.”

  “Still a nurse at heart.”

  She turned away but he saw the blush on her cheeks and the smile on her lips. She picked up her parasol and dusted it off as Archimedes swung Icarus up into his arms. He might have objected but he was quite certain his legs wouldn't hold him up anyway.

  “Perhaps you'll come to an agreement yet.” his friend said quietly, and Icarus raised an eyebrow.

  “With Cora? Does she ever do anything the easy way?”

  “Do you?” Archimedes countered as they made their way east toward their hotel.

  Icarus found himself watching Cora as she dodged puddles and cursed the English mud beneath her boots.

  “Cora is a woman with needs, Icarus.” Archimedes narrowed his eyes. “She will never be content with only part of you to love.”

  Icarus nodded, already well aware that Cora needed more than he could ever give. Some part of him had died the night the magic took him, and he was unsure if it could ever be revived.

  Archimedes sighed and Icarus could feel the beat of his heavy heart beneath him. The tick-tock of the clockwork was soothing, but Archimedes would not let him rest.

  “Hold her close or set her free, Icarus, but don't leave her in limbo. Someday she will hate you for it.”

  Icarus nodded and let his head droop against the sturdy weight of Archimedes' shoulder. He knew what Cora wanted, and what she needed. He just didn't know if he could give it to her.

  He awoke in the dim light of morning through the windows. He lay on the settee, his head aching. He kept his groan inside and sat up slowly. Across the room Archimedes lay on the floor, his jacket and shirt off. Cora knelt over him, her bottom high in the air as she fiddled with the gleaming metal clockwork that encased his right shoulder and most of his chest. Icarus swallowed a smile as she cursed and tapped her screwdriver on Archimedes' wrist plate.

  “I don't know how he does it.” she said to their friend, pushing the hair off the big man's forehead. “It seems he has the best of me in this.”

  “It requires an understanding of the mechanical arts.” He struggled to push himself off the settee.

  She looked over her shoulder at him with a sour frown. “I've learned as much about mechanics as you could teach me, and I still don't understand the way of this dratted clockwork.”

  Icarus moved slowly, his body still stiff from the use of his power. He knelt next to her and smiled at Archimedes.

  “You were brave to allow her to tinker, old friend.”

  “She'd never harm me a purpose.” the big man grinned. “She'd ask you for help, no matter the sting to her pride.”

  Icarus gently removed the screwdriver from Cora's hand and leaned over Archimedes. He tested the tension on several springs and traced the movement of the cogs with his eyes. Silently he counted in his head to establish the rhythm. Carefully, he adjusted the alignment of one of the smallest cogs. Immediately the ticking became regular again. He leaned back on his heels, patting his friend on his flesh and blood arm.

  “There we are. Regular once again.”

  Archimedes sat up, buttoning his shirt over the flesh and metal. His haphazard blue black hair fell over his forehead, and he grinned a wide, white grin. “Good as new.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Cora's pink cheek, ignoring Icarus' frown. “Thank you, Cora.”

  “I'm the one who fixed you.” Icarus said bad-naturedly as they all climbed to their feet. “Why should she have al
l the praise?”

  “Would you rather I kiss your cheek?”

  Icarus shrugged off the big man's arm and slumped into the chair by the fire. Cora set about pouring them tea and he took his cup with a nod in her direction.

  “How do you feel?” she asked as she handed Archimedes his cup. She smoothed a hand over Icarus' forehead and combed back his hair and he leaned into her touch for a moment before she pulled away.

  “I've been worse.”

  She sat in her own chair and tucked her ankles primly beneath her skirts. “You were muttering and tossing curses about when we returned you home. It shattered nearly every mirror in the room.”

  “Apologies.” he muttered, staring into the fire. His magic was volatile and most often destructive. Any time he lost control of himself, or became unconscious, it leaped on the opportunity to wreak havoc. He sipped his tea and made a face.

  “What the devil is this?” He held out the cup and shook it. “It tastes foul.”

  “It's called coffee. It's all the rage back home.”

  “It disgusts me.”

  “Ever an Englishman.” She took his cup and poured him a steaming tea from the second pot on the table. “I happen to like the taste.”

  “Bitter isn't your style, Cora.”

  She smiled, but there wasn't a drop of humor in it. Things between them had deteriorated to sniping and sometimes out right jibes. He hated it, and hated the idea that he'd hurt her in some way. Unfortunately he'd warned her years ago that his nature was a solitary one, and still she clung to her hope that he might change. He rubbed his fingers over his palm absently. It was still warm from last night.

  “What do you think is happening in London, Icarus?”

  He tore his gaze from the flames in the hearth and looked at Archimedes. The man was stretched out against the settee, his long legs crossed at the ankles as he sipped his tea. He was the kind of man Cora should love, Icarus thought in the moment. Strong and brave and kind when he could be. Despite his clockwork parts he was still a man in all the ways that counted. For some reason the idea of his brawny friend with the fiery-haired Cora set his heart to galloping. He swallowed a gulp of tea to calm it.