A voice said, “Don’t let him touch you!”

It was an elderly voice.

One of the men not armed with a sundowner shot his pistol.

Floote, at the top of the main stairs, fell with a sickening series of thuds.

Someone belowdecks screamed.

“I said no one move!” The Italian still didn’t look away from Rue.

Rue lunged.

He lunged at the same time, wrapping her tightly in both arms.

Rue was shifting, fur becoming hair, paws becoming hands, and tail shrinking upwards. She knew that sensation. Of course she knew it. She’d experienced it on and off most of her life. The touch of a soulless. The sucking nullification feeling of a preternatural. Her mother’s touch.

“Hello, little cousin.” The Italian held her, vise-like, from behind. Together they faced an audience of startled Spotted Custard crew.

Oh dear, thought Rue, they were after me all along.

For why else send a preternatural, unless you had a metanatural to catch?

EIGHTEEN

Killing Cousins

“I am such an idiot.” Rue’s voice was sharp in the ensuing silence. “You’re not hunting werecats. You’re hunting me.”

The Italian brought his cheek down to hers. She could feel him smile. “Never doubt we’ll kill the monster where she stands. We’ve no interest in taking her alive. We’ve no interest in taking any of them alive. But if you come along quietly, we’ll leave them be. Promise. For you, my pretty little cousin, are unique.”

Rue gritted her teeth and squirmed, trying to break his grasp. Unfortunately, he was a lot bigger and stronger. He was only mortal strong, but that was plenty good enough. Rue rolled her head away from skin contact and caught sight of the Gatling gun to her left. A gift. From Dama. On my twenty-first birthday.

“My majority. I gained my majority.” Dama had tried to warn her. Without government protection, or us vampires looking out for you, there are people who may want you dead. So had Mother, in her awkward way, handing over that mysterious secret parasol club. So had Paw, always harping on about safety, always urging her to learn to fight.

“In India, as I understand it. Fair game at last. We started tracking you at once. Took us a while to catch up and by that time you’d returned to London. It’s never easy to get into London these days. And, of course, you’ve many friends there, don’t you, cousin? Not to mention family. But not all the vampires in England, not any more.”

Rue could grow to hate this man. “And Queen Victoria cut me loose, too. Withdrew the Crown’s protection.”

“You’ve no sundowner weapon, have you, cousin?” He pressed his own sundowner against her side, a cold hard reminder.

Rue had known that Lord Akeldama was her guardian as well as her adopted father, and she’d known it was some sort of deal her parents struck to keep the vampires from killing her. She hadn’t realised that it incurred an obligation of protection from all vampires. Now that she was legally an adult, that protection was gone. And then she’d cocked up her legal standing with the Crown as well.

What had Dama said? “Just a little token, Puggle, because, you’re all grown up and a fully-fledged independent now, and knowing your family propensities, you’re going to need a ruddy big gun.” She’d dismissed her parents’ concern, thought they were just being overprotective and worried.

Family propensities come wrapped in Italian silk. “Cousin, hmm? I take it Grandfather Alessandro enjoyed dropping his breeches overmuch?”

“Bit of a cad, to be honest with you. Your mother never knew she had an older half-brother, did she? Poor old Dad. Took me in for Templar training, just like him, just like all us daemons get in Italy.” His mouth curled against her skin. “It’s an honour to be Templar trained. We do God’s work. We are weapons of His justice. Doomed to burn in hell because we’ve no soul to get into heaven. But we work for God while we’re here. And that’s what counts.”

“You trying to convince me or yourself?” Rue kept him talking while her mind whirled. There had to be a way to turn the tables on this man.

“Oh, the little soul-stealer has teeth.”

“Who, me?”

“An original, you are. I imagine they want to study you. Maybe cut you up a bit. See how you tick.”

“Charming.”

“Don’t worry, cousin. I won’t let them hurt you. Much.”

He was focused on her and she was naked. She wondered if he carried any of their shared grandfather’s propensities. She wriggled a bit, testing – not a get free wiggle, but an introducing my bottom wiggle. Wouldn’t you know? It appears he likes curvy young ladies.

“Stop that.”

There came a solid hiss and a wet thunk. The Italian jerked against Rue and then slid to the deck, arms loosening about her, although he stayed mostly coiled about her body until he lay slack at her feet. It was an unpleasant experience.

Rue stepped free.

At the same time, she saw the other man with the sundowner gun collapse.

Both men had darts sticking out of their backs. Lefoux-made numbing darts, Rue was pretty darn certain. But who had fired them? Even if Quesnel made it out of bed, he couldn’t make it up the stair from engineering.

Rue twisted to look behind her to the poop deck, and there – all forgotten – stood the twins. Percy was wearing Quesnel’s wrist emitter, looking frightened but also fierce and set. Primrose was holding the Parasol-of-Another-Colour steady in the firing position. She had it aimed now at one of the other invaders. There was a look of both possession and anger on her pretty face. Rue swallowed a smile. The man she’d shot had been threatening Tasherit.