Lycans and Legends

Chapter 3: Her Royal BaitNess

The wind whipped down the London street as the massive crowd assembled for the opening. On stage were a number of members of the London Tinker’s Society, Harper, Edwin, and a handsome, middle-aged gentleman with curly brown hair and startling green eyes who identified himself as Archibald Boatswain IV, and me. We all waited patiently, eyes on the sky, for Her Majesty.

I inhaled slowly and let my gaze dance across the group assembled there. I hated having all these eyes on me. It worked my nerves. But there was this strange buzzing in my ears. It wasn’t really a sound; just a feeling. My senses were on edge. There was no reason to think anything was going to happen. All of this was just precaution, right? Edwin was just making sure that Victoria was safe.

I looked back at the people assembled on the platform. This time, I noticed that a vast majority of the men and women seated there, members of the London Tinker’s Society, were also wearing nondescript lapel pens with the initials R.M. encapsulated in a circle.

The Rude Mechanicals were here.

Why?

My gaze slid across the esteemed but secret group. They looked…nervous.

Surely, they wouldn’t hold such a public event if they were expecting something.

Unless.

Unless, quite the opposite. Would they hold such an event because they were expecting something to happen?

Hell’s bells.

Was Victoria acting as bait?

Bait for what?

I glanced at Edwin.

Apparently, my expression said everything.

He nodded.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

They were trying to smoke out someone or something. Whose stupid idea was this? And why hadn’t anyone told me? No wonder they wanted me on the podium. I was the only goddamned early warning system they had.

I turned to the museum. The clock overhead ticked loudly. I could hear it over the murmuring of the crowd. I closed my eyes and tried to feel. Something. Anything.

The wind blew my hood back, pulling my long, black hair out of the back of my cape. The palms of my hands tingled.

Clemeny…Clemeny Louvel.

I looked back at Edwin and nodded.

He tensed his jaw. The story behind the opening, the extra security, all of it, was slowly beginning to reveal itself. This was all a smokescreen for something larger taking place. But what?

I stared at Harper with such intensity that she turned and looked. Her brow was furrowed, her face all scrunched up, as if she, too, were beginning to put some pieces together. I watched her face clear as the puzzle came together for her as well. She blinked.

“Shite,” she said in a whisper.

Okay, at least this wasn’t Harper’s idea.

“There she is. Look, there is her balloon,” someone in the audience yelled.

The crowd murmured excitedly.

The illustrious members of the society waiting on the podium stood and turned, eyes lifted to the heavens, as we watched Her Majesty’s airship slowly lower toward the museum.

Clemeny…Clemeny Louvel.

He’s coming.