

Lady Jessica: Monster Hunter

Episode 1: Heart of the Empire

by Keith Dumble

Copyright © 2014 by Keith Dumble. All rights reserved.

Cover copyright © 2014 by Keith Dumble.

www.keithdumble.com

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Reproduction in whole or in part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

Thank you for purchasing and supporting my work. If you have enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review wherever you bought this book.

Keep up to date with the ongoing adventures of The Black Diamonds at

www.ladyjessicamonsterhunter.com

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

LADY JESSICA: MONSTER HUNTER

CHAPTER ONE

A Disturbed Night

Salisbury, 1898

ONE BITE FROM the beast, and she was as good as dead.

She rolled to the left. The creature shrieked with rage as it clawed at the mud where she'd been lying, its rotted tongue flailing in its mouth like a thick black maggot.

Her sword was gone, lost somewhere amongst the gravestones. She flipped over onto her knees, scanning her surroundings for something she could use as a weapon. A flash of lightning strobe-lit the cemetery; for a split second it was as bright as the Zephyr's laboratory.

There, close to the church. Rusted railings surrounding an ancient tomb.

The ghoul was back on its feet now, rampaging towards her. Its sunken eyes burned with dead hatred. Hatred of her living warmth, of her pumping blood and of the thing it hated most of all: her beating heart.

A heart which felt as if it was about to explode as she grasped one of the railings and tugged.

It refused to give, firmly rooted in the ground. She could sense the beast at her back, expecting to feel the tearing pain of its claws slice through her skin at any moment. With a heave, the second railing came free. She gripped it in both hands and dug her heels into the sodden earth.

'To hell with you!' She whirled round, the railing thrust forward like a spear.

The ghoul barely flinched as the spiked tip pierced its chest. The metal ground its way through the creature's body; then she felt the lack of resistance as the railing emerged from its back.

Thus skewered, she was able to push the ghoul back, keeping it at arm's length as its claws flailed inches from her face. Gobbets of oily black spittle flew from its mouth as it screamed.

She clenched her teeth and twisted the railing. More of the sticky dark slime oozed from the beast's maw, boiling at its lips like some hellish tar pit.

She squinted through the driving rain. The yew tree was massive, its trunk as wide as a carriage. She pushed, her boots skidding on the churning mud at first, but finding traction as she pressed forward with grim determination.

With a jarring thud, the end of the railing pierced the tree, securing the beast in place. She stepped back, releasing her grip. The ghoul's eyes burned like a furnace, its fingers clawing at the iron protruding from the wound ripped through its chest.

She searched the graveyard. The sword was a few yards away, resting against the base of a weathered stone angel. The statue's head had toppled, lying upturned at its feet.

She smiled.

The ghoul's screams of rage had turned into a terrible keening which set her teeth on edge. Its arms and legs were thrashing; they jerked with spasms which reminded her of one of Professor Cottingley's electrical experiments.

'Enough,' she said.

Lady Jessica McAlpin swung the blade in a wide arc towards the beast's exposed neck.

The keening ceased.

__________

'I hate ghouls.'

Flint leaned back in his chair, placed both hands across his belly and let out a loud belch. Atsu giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

Jessica pushed a strand of hair from her face. 'And they, it would appear, have no great feelings of warmth towards you, William.'

Tommy snorted into his mug. Flint glared at him. 'They don't even have the common decency to realise they're dead,' he said, pouring himself another glass then draining it in a single gulp. 'Filthy bloody creatures.'

The warmth from the wine coursed through Jessica's body. After decapitating the beast, she had found Flint in the crypt. Earlier, they had agreed to split up: she following the creature's trail in the cemetery, Flint searching for its lair inside the church.

When the ghoul had burst through the stained glass window in a cascade of sharp fragments, Jessica had feared the worst. She had been relieved therefore when she had later found Flint trussed up like a prize pig in the dark, hanging from a beam on the crypt ceiling by his ankles.

'What was it like, being that close to one?' Tommy spoke through a mouthful of bread. 'Were you scared?'

'Scared?' Flint screwed up his face in disgust. 'I thought the damned thing was going to eat me alive. Of course I was bloody scared, Pike!'

'Lucky for you then that its belly was full.' Jessica pushed her empty plate aside. 'Though, it has to be said, the poor parson was a little less fortunate.'

'He was dead?' Atsu's eyes widened beneath her blue fringe.

'We were too late to save him, I'm afraid,' said Jessica. 'Quite a mess.'

'At least the damned thing won't be eating anyone else now.' Flint filled his glass and held it aloft. 'Here's to you, Jessica.'

'Here's to us all, and to another successful mission,' said Jessica, returning the toast. 'And to the success of the next.'

'Oh how tiresome.' The disembodied voice sounded as though it was locked inside a metal box. 'Does that mean we have to go back already?'

Tommy walked across to the control panel. He lowered his goggles and turned a dial, which caused a number of diodes on the display to flash on and off in rapid succession. 'There there, old girl. It won't take too long.'

'Less of the old, if you please.' The Zephyr sounded indignant. 'Though I must admit I am feeling rather tired today.'

'I'm not surprised.' Tommy's voice was soothing, as if he was speaking to a child. 'How about we get you spruced up a bit when we get to London?' A row of clear glass bulbs winked in response. 'Get your oil changed and your tanks topped up. How does that sound, Zed?'

'I suppose that would be agreeable.' There was a long hissing noise deep within the hull of the ship, almost like a sigh. 'Oh, very well. To London it is.'

Tommy turned round, giving them a wink.

'Ready, Atsu?' said Jessica.

The girl jolted to attention. 'Yes ma'am!'

'I told you, Atsu, you don't need to keep calling me that.'

'Sorry ma'am!' Atsu gasped, then blushed.

Flint laughed into his glass. 'It's your gargantuan sense of command, Jessica. We are but lowly minions who cower in your shadow.'

Jessica flung a bread roll at his head. He ducked swiftly, his long blonde hair whipping through the air. 'Gargantuan, William? Is that one of the words you learned in gaol?'

Flint grinned, his gold tooth catching the light. 'I have learned many things, Jessica. Remind me to show you some time.'

'Fortunately we will be rather too busy for the foreseeable future, William.' Jessica placed her hands on her hips. Her red skirt spilled out in layers to the floor, with only the white silk tips of her boots visible beneath it. 'Places everyone. Time to take to the skies.'

'Yes ma'am!' Atsu giggled as she disappeared into the navigation chamber. Flint nodded, cracked his knuckles, and walked in the opposite direction, towards the hatch which led to the bridge. Tommy turned back to the control panel, flicking a row of ivory switches. There was a clanking sound from somewhere within the guts of the airship and Jessica felt the familiar lurch as the craft began to rise.

'Oh, if we must,' said the Zephyr.

CHAPTER TWO

A Storm is Approaching

JESSICA COULD SEE the broad curves of the airship's framework above her as she ascended the steps. The Zephyr had only just begun to rise, and the currents were still gentle as she clambered up onto the deck. Even so, she lowered her goggles. Soon enough, the wind would be enough to make her eyes stream.

Flint was waiting for her beside the wheel. 'A decent enough night,' he said.

The storm had cleared; only a few bulbous clouds remained, low in the west. A band of stars ribboned across the sky and a silver hook of a moon hung high above.

'The flight should be smooth at least.' Jessica recalled Tommy's face on the journey here. Greener than the Thames. She took the wheel in her gloved hands, making a small adjustment as the Zephyr gained height. 'Any souvenirs this time, William?'

Flint shook his head. 'Beyond a bit of bruising on my ankles, I'll be fine. I think the beast didn't want to spoil its dinner.'

Jessica twisted the wheel as the Zephyr cleared the valley. She glanced down at the map, where Atsu was plotting their course. A glowing red line pulsed across the metal surface like a vein. She made the mental calculations and turned the wheel back in the opposite direction, stopping when the line on the map turned white.

'It's a cold one.' Flint turned up the collar of his greatcoat and blew into his hands. His hair streamed behind him, blown by the increasingly strong wind.

'A far cry from the Caribbean I expect?' Jessica relaxed her grip on the wheel. Unless they ran into a freak current or some unforeseen bad weather, she had little more to do until they landed.

'That's the truth.' Flint leaned one arm on the Gatling, his eyes moist. He refused to wear goggles, not even Cottingley's calibrated ones, claiming they interfered too much with his vision. 'I'll never get used to this, truth be told. A ship should be coursing across the waves, not floating hundreds of feet above the ground.'

'It's quite safe you know.' Jessica raised her chin, enjoying the air on her face. 'More people get killed in carriage accidents each year than they do in airships.'

'That old line!' Flint rubbed at his stubble. 'And more people get killed sleeping soundly in their beds at night, dreaming up meaningless statistics like that!'

'Don't be so cynical, William. Or would you rather be back in the stockades?'

He peered up at the bulk of the Zephyr's structure. 'Sometimes, I'm not so sure...' Jessica knew he was joking. Flint had been given the choice: redeem himself in the Black Diamonds, or rot forever in some forgotten pit in the West Indies. He hadn't needed to be asked twice.

It had been the same for them all; the unique way the Diamonds were recruited. Atsu's illegal stowing-away on the Trans-Empire Express, Tommy's infamous clockwork lockpick device finally failing him in the door of an influential member of the nobility, and Cottingley going a bit too far in his attempts to prove he could create life from inanimate matter.

And Jessica too, of course. Being born the bastard child of a traitor to the Empire was, in the eyes of some, the greatest crime of them all.

__________

'All hands. Approaching London.' Jessica leaned back from the brass mouthpiece and walked to the prow. The Zephyr was in its descent: the land beneath looked less like a patchwork quilt and she could now make out individual houses dotted around the outskirts of the city.

Atsu appeared beside her, the wind lifting her fringe and exposing the scar on her forehead. She tried to flatten her hair back down but gave up, securing it in place with her goggles instead. 'It's so beautiful,' she said.

And it was. The enormity of London could only fully be appreciated from the air. As the isolated houses below gave way to grid-like networks of roads, the city was spread out before them like a map.

'Too big for its own good, if you ask me.' Flint stared ahead, his face impassive.

'It does seem to keep on growing,' said Jessica. 'I wouldn't be surprised if it covered the whole country one day.'

The haze was draped over London like a shroud, lit orange by the gaslights beneath. Even through the fog, Jessica could make out the landmarks she knew. The dark snaking thread of the Thames, curving its way past the floodlit bulk of the Houses of Parliament. Further downriver, searchlights danced between the twin pillars of Tower Bridge. And beyond that, straddling each riverbank with one gigantic iron foot, the Colossus of the Empire.

'There!' Atsu pointed. 'The aerodrome!'

The lights throbbed like a pulsing web. Above the docking berths, more than a dozen airships of various sizes were circling. Some on their ascent; some, like the Zephyr, waiting for permission to land. As they approached, the drone of the ships' engines drowned out the sounds of the factories and workshops below.

'Tommy.' Jessica spoke into the mouthpiece again. Not even the splendour of London could coax the engineer on deck whilst they were in the air. 'Await the signal to land.'

'Very good, commander.' His voice crackled back through the ornate brass horn. 'Here we are, Zed,' he said, speaking softly to the airship. 'Not long til you get a good seeing to.'

Jessica swore she could hear a throttle in the airship's engine which sounded like a laugh. Though she understood the need for it in this day and age, part of her mistrusted the Scientifica which gave the ship its sentience — and its rather peculiar personality.

Flint pointed down to one of the clusters of lights, which had begun to flash with a regular pulse. 'That looks like our cue.'

Sure enough, Jessica felt the familiar lurch in her stomach as the Zephyr descended. She removed her goggles, letting them dangle on their strap around her neck. The temperature increased as they got closer to land and to the warmth of the city itself.

'Everyone below,' she said. Flint nodded and headed towards the hatch. Atsu however remained motionless, staring ahead. 'Atsu? Did you hear me?'

The girl did not respond. So unlike her. She was standing at the prow of the ship, her silk dress fluttering in the warm breeze as they continued their descent.

'Atsu? Is everything all right?'

'A storm is approaching,' she replied, her voice flat. Despite the warmth, Jessica shivered as Atsu turned round to face her.

Her eyes were red as blood.

CHAPTER THREE

Heart of the Empire

'I SHALL STAY here.' Atsu busied herself watering the large potted geranium on the window ledge.

'You're sure?' Jessica adjusted her hat, fixing it in place with a silver pin. She had changed clothes: a purple velvet jacket over a cream taffeta dress which billowed out over her underskirts. Her sword was, as ever, concealed within the handle of her black lace parasol.

'Yes,' said Atsu. 'London is too busy for me, Jessica.'

Jessica nodded, not pressing the matter further. Though the Capital was one of the most cosmopolitan places in the Empire, visitors from the Japans were rare. And, in some quarters, only barely tolerated. 'Very well, Atsu. Flint and I shall not be long.'

She thought about asking Atsu about her eyes again. Jessica was used to seeing her navigator with the blank, white pupils that were a side effect of her power, but had never seen them as they had been last night. Like crimson marbles, glinting in the lights of the aerodrome as the Zephyr had completed its descent. Atsu had been unable to recall a thing, being surprised when her eyes had returned to normal and Jessica had asked her what she had meant.

An approaching storm, thought Jessica. It wouldn't be the first time.

'Ready?' Flint strode into the room, wearing his scuffed brown leather greatcoat over a blue and white striped waistcoat and red flannel trousers. His blonde hair flowed down from beneath his black homburg. He looked half gentleman, half privateer. Which, Jessica supposed, was fairly close to the truth.

'One moment, William.' She opened her bag and put the pistol inside, placing it between a folded silk handkerchief and a small mirror. 'One can't be too careful,' she said. 'Not with the protesters running amok in the streets.'

'And, perhaps, also those they protest against.' Flint winked, the lines beside his eyes creasing in deep wrinkles. He put out his elbow. 'Well, Jessica. Shall we?'

Jessica slipped her hand through his arm and turned to Atsu. 'Ask Tommy to take a look at the propellor when he gets back, will you?' Atsu nodded, her hooped earrings jangling. 'It's taking a little too long to get going for my liking.'

'Oh, really!' The Zephyr sounded hurt. 'It's just this damnable weather, that's all.'

'Weather or no, I can't afford to be stranded on the ground should we need to lift off in a hurry. Just a precaution, you understand.'

She was still uncomfortable talking to something which was little more than a machine. Though Tommy had explained the reason why each ship carried a Figurehead, Jessica could not help but view them as unnatural. Hypocritical even, given the remit of the Diamonds.

The hangar was cool as she and Flint descended the Zephyr's retractable steps onto the stone floor. The smell of oil hung heavy in the air; the clanking and pumping from the refuelling stations drowning out any attempt at conversation. She waited until they had walked outside, where the weight of the London smog did little to improve the atmosphere. A faint ghost of a disc in the sky to the east told her it was morning, though the thick pall did its best to obscure everything, not least the time of day.

'Not the most pleasant morning for a walk.' Flint tilted his head up to the sky. Jessica imagined him standing on the deck of his ship in the Caribbean, surging through crystal clear waters. Flint was finding being back in civilisation hard to adjust to.

'Indeed not. Come, we'll take the train.' Jessica led them towards a tall red brick building, where the words "Clapham Aerodrome" were shining through the haze in foot-high gaslit letters.

The tiles inside the station gleamed in the light of the phosphor lamps hung high above. The place was a bustle of activity: passengers bound for the skies descending on one escalator; those heading for the heart of the city rising on the other. Jessica and Flint bought tickets from the dispenser, then joined the queue slowly filing towards the platform.

'So many people in one place. It's a wonder there is any air left to breathe.' Flint took a deep breath, his nose immediately wrinkling. 'And by the smell of it, a good amount of that air is recycled.'

'It is far from my favourite place either, William. I grew up in the country, remember.'

'How could I forget?' Flint raised his hat, his eyes twinkling. 'M'lady.'

'Oh be quiet. Now, don't trip over the top of the escalator like you did last time.'

They moved forward onto the platform. The ceiling curved above them, a tunnel yawning into the darkness at either end. A pair of blackened iron tracks separated them from the platform opposite, where lines of passengers awaited the arrival of the southbound train.

Jessica glanced at the advertisements plastered over the walls. The usual assortment of posters promoting cure-alls and the latest scientific inventions for the home. The large portrait of the Queen stared down sternly from amongst the garish bills, a crest above her head emblazoned with the word "VIGILANCE".

Jessica glanced up at the ticker, its myriad of diodes scrolling through the headlines of the day. She noticed Flint staring intensely at the device, his lips moving and his forehead creased in concentration.

'Police clash with protesters in Hammersmith,' she said. Flint relaxed, turning to look at her instead of at the ticker. The next headline slid into view. 'Victory in Postdam... Killing in Whitechapel...'

'Seldom any good news, eh?'

The headlines had begun to repeat. Jessica stood aside to let a governess and two little boys dressed in sailor suits walk past. 'Indeed not, William. Indeed not.'

'That's more to my liking.' Flint pointed to a poster on the wall beside them, which featured an engraved illustration of a trio of women posing like Greek statues. The artist's impression of their clothing left little to the imagination. 'What's it for?'

'Salome's Palace of Earthly Nymphs,' said Jessica, reading the large-printed letters above the illustration. 'A theatrical show, William.'

'I don't suppose we'll have time, will we?' He pushed up the brim of his hat and looked pleadingly at her.

'I doubt it very much. Appleton has our next mission awaiting us.'

'I should try being less wicked.' Flint smirked. 'Having no rest really is rather tiresome.'

Jessica laughed, then moved forward with the rest of the passengers as the northbound train emerged from the tunnel. They waited until the doors ground open, then stepped into the carriage. All the seats were taken, so they stood close to the door, wedged between the other occupants. It was uncomfortably warm; everyone seemed to be making a concerted effort not to look at each other.

'This won't take long.' Jessica saw Flint was uneasy, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead. 'If we have time, perhaps we can walk back.' He coughed and nodded, his knuckles white as he gripped the handrail.

Londoners were an odd lot, she thought, regarding her fellow passengers. Several of the men were sporting black tinted monocles, all the rage since the Prince Consort had been seen wearing one at Lords a few weeks ago. The women's clothing was equally voguish: a rainbow mishmash of colours, with corsets daringly worn over dresses, rather than underneath.

The train clanked off from the station. It gathered speed as it entered the tunnel, the draught from the small windows above their heads giving some modicum of respite from the heat.

Jessica stared at her reflection in the window. Next to the London dandies and ladies, she looked positively dowdy. Her hat was two or three seasons old, and her high-necked dress made her look more like some aged spinster rather than a daring young airship commander of the Empire. Perhaps she would ask Appleton for a little leave, she thought. Then she could pay a visit to the grand boutiques of Knightsbridge...

She looked away from her own reflection, then gave a start. In the black mirror-like surface of the window, she could see a young man with a thick black beard and eyes like coal pits staring at her. As he noticed her attention, he quickly averted his gaze and turned up the collar of his heavy woollen coat. Then, as the train emerged from the darkness of the tunnel, the reflection of the carriage's interior was replaced by a view of the city speeding past.

The train tilted as the track curved to the north towards Westminster. On the streets beneath the viaduct, Jessica could see citizens going about their daily business: pulling carts between warehouses, selling goods from stalls and trays lining the pavements, and busying themselves with the seemingly eternal cycle of eking out an existence in the Capital. Jessica closed her eyes, thankful yet again for her life spent soaring high above it all.

'For the fallen!'

Jessica whirled round. Flint's hand was reaching inside his greatcoat, where his revolver was holstered. Cries and screams from the other passengers.

A space had appeared around the man who had been staring at her. His face was twisted into a maniacal sneer, flecks of spittle at his lips. He was holding his coat open with both hands, revealing the thing which had so terrified the other occupants of the carriage.

A large white clock face, connected by a pair of spiralling wires to two stubby red cylinders which Jessica recognised immediately as dynamite.

Flint had his revolver pointed directly at the man's head. Jessica flicked the switch on the handle of her parasol, ready to unsheath her sword.

'Stay back!' More screams from the passengers as the man yelled. A woman close beside him was crying, her tears creating milky wet tracks down her powdered face. 'Back, or I blow us all to hell!'

Jessica glanced out of the window. The train was passing over the docks, heading towards the broad green sweep of the Thames. 'What do you want?' she said. All heads turned to look at her.

'Vengeance!' The bomber shook his head, as if telling a voice inside to be quiet. 'No! Justice!' He took a step towards them, his thumb poised over a red button at the top of the device strapped to his chest.

'This is not the way of justice.' Jessica's voice was calm. 'Don't do this, it's not worth it.' She could see the funnels of ships through the window behind him.

'Let me tell you about worth. Of how much your so-called glorious Empire considered my brothers and sisters to be worth!'

'Whatever happened to your brothers and sisters, it is not these innocent people's fault.'

'Innocent?' He spat, glaring at the other passengers. 'You are all guilty, all of you. As guilty as your devil of a Queen!'

The sound of the train's wheels changed as they clattered onto Vauxhall Bridge.

The man stared at Jessica. A flicker in his eyes, as though a switch had been flicked inside his mind. He gritted his teeth.

Jessica tensed.

Then, in one swift motion, she whipped her sword from the parasol, lunged forward and skewered the man through the back of the hand.

He screamed in pain, clutching his wound. Jessica darted towards him, grasping for the dynamite.

His face was contorted in rage. He quickly stepped aside. Jessica almost fell, knocking into a startled young man whose black-tinted monocle popped out of his face.

'May your conscience judge you in hell!' The bomber reached back to the device on his chest and pressed the button. The hand on the clock face started to move, ticking from eleven to twelve.

Five seconds.

Jessica leapt, grabbing him round the waist and flinging him to the ground. She clutched the bomb, ripping it from his chest.

Four.

He brought up his fist, slamming it into the side of her jaw. A tooth loose in her mouth. The taste of blood. He grabbed the sleeve of Jessica's jacket, holding her fast.

Three.

His eyes bulged and his grip loosened as she brought her knee up hard between his legs.

Two.

Jessica darted towards the window. Then threw the bomb outside, down towards the Thames below.

One.

The train rocked from the impact of the blast. Jessica looked down. The spray of water from the explosion cascaded back down onto the brackish green surface of the river.

Cheering from the passengers behind her. She spat out her tooth and turned round. Flint was kneeling, his revolver pointed at the bomber's head. The man was sprawled on the carriage floor, motionless.

Flint looked up at her and shook his head.

'He's dead, Jessica.'

CHAPTER FOUR

The Next Mission

'SUICIDE. POISON CONCEALED within a false tooth.'

Sir Humphrey Appleton steepled his fingers beneath his chin, his pince-nez teetering on the end of his nose. He was wearing full military dress: a bright red jacket with twin rows of polished brass buttons and a cluster of medals proudly lined up for inspection on his chest.

Jessica winced as she prodded at the gap in her mouth with her tongue. 'One of the insurgents?' She sipped carefully at her tea. 'Their attacks are becoming alarmingly frequent, are they not?'

'Nothing we are not capable of keeping in check, my dear.' Appleton propped his elbows on the mahogany desk. 'Care for a biscuit?'

Jessica shook her head. Flint reached out and took a round circle of shortbread from the offered plate, nodding his thanks.

'Good work in Salisbury.' Appleton nibbled on the edge of a biscuit, a few stray crumbs making a nest in his bushy grey moustache. 'That creature had managed to escape our clutches for quite some time.'

'They're not usually known for their brains.' Flint reached down, rubbing at his ankles.

'Indeed they are not, Mr Flint. That specimen seemed to have had some assistance, from what we are able to gather. But we shall track down the source of that in due course, fear not.'

'That's our next mission?' Jessica looked at the buildings of Whitehall visible through the large windows of Appleton's office. 'Back to Salisbury?'

'No, no, my dear. We have people on the ground for such mundane investigatory matters. Your next assignment is far closer to home.'

'Here, in London?' Flint sounded weary.

'Precisely, Mr Flint.' He picked up another biscuit and neatly snapped it in two. 'You have heard of these dreadful killings in Whitechapel, I take it?'

'Only from the headlines,' said Jessica. 'What has been occurring?'

'We have withheld details from the newshounds as best we can. But they have all the signs of being vampyric slayings.'

'A nest? Here in the capital?'

'Indeed. It is hard to believe, is it not?'

'Your people on the ground,' said Flint, 'I take it they have uncovered nothing of use to us?'

Appleton sniffed. 'Quite the contrary, Mr Flint. Our investigators have discerned that the killings all seem to have occurred within a stone's throw of one particular locale. An interminably seedy place, skulking in the shadows beneath the viaduct.'

'You've found the nest already?' Jessica was hopeful of a quick resolution. She longed to be back in the skies, leaving the choking fog of London far behind them.

'No, no, just a place where we think people may know a little more about what is happening. Though it is frequented by some quite dreadful unsavoury types. Criminals, prostitutes, drug addicts, that sort of thing. Our men have had no luck trying to prise information from them.'

The way Appleton had phrased his last sentence made Jessica shiver. 'The underclass do tend to close ranks when authority goes poking their nose in their affairs. They keep to their own, Sir.'

'Precisely, my dear.' Appleton beamed, his moustache curling upwards. 'And that is exactly why you and your little crew of desperadoes are utterly perfect for the job.'

__________

'You enjoy doing the Empire's dirty work?' Flint glared at the guard stationed outside Appleton's office as they walked down the corridor.

'I don't really have a choice, William. None of us do, not unless we want to go to prison. Or, in your case, back to prison.' Her mouth was throbbing; she would need to get Cottingley to take a look at it when they got back to the Zephyr.

'Sometimes I feel we're nothing more than a dirty little secret dealing with a whole host of other, dirtier secrets. And that's a lot of dirt.'

'Better than having the truth out there amongst the populace, surely? There would be panic in the streets.'

'But would there? Wouldn't they feel better knowing the truth?'

'That the monsters of their fables and fairytales are real? That their lives are in constant danger? Sometimes, I wish I could forget the truth myself, William.'

'It just doesn't sit right with me, that's all.'

'We have our orders, William.' They walked on in silence, along the corridors of the Department of Interior Security. Jessica had some sympathy for Flint's point. Though she had sworn an oath to Queen and Empire, their orders often seemed to serve the glory of those in power, rather than the safety of the citizens.

'Jessica.'

Her stomach lurched. 'Roman.'

He was just as handsome as she remembered, with an expression which suggested he knew it. His green eyes sparkled as he stroked his short-clipped black beard.

'Off on another of your little escapades, Lady McAlpin?'

'We have official business, yes.'

Roman's face creased into a broad smile, revealing pristine white teeth. 'Desperate times call for desperate measures, do they not?' He glanced at Flint's scuffed greatcoat and worn boots. 'Yes, quite desperate.'

Flint pushed back his shoulders and made a growling noise which Jessica knew would soon explode into an insult. She stepped forward. 'We all do what we can. For the Empire.'

Roman straightened, the light shining on his gold epaulettes. 'Quite so, my Lady, quite so. Even if it takes us to those dark places of the Empire where civilised people fear to tread. Though I would imagine that to be ground you and your companions have stepped upon many times before.'

'I'm surprised you are able to see the ground at all from your illustrious position, Roman.'

'You flatter me, Lady McAlpin.' He put a hand across his chest and feigned a hurt look. 'I am but a humble servant, nothing more.'

'Humble?' Flint spoke through clenched teeth. 'Not often a word you hear used to describe the Corps.'

'Ah, Mr Flint. Forgive me, I didn't notice you standing there. Tell me, how is your good lady wife?'

'You bastard!' Flint lunged forward, his fist raised.

Jessica managed to grab his shoulders, restraining him. Roman took a step backwards and shook his head, laughing.

'My, my, Lady McAlpin. What sort of company are you keeping these days?'

'Just go, Roman.' Jessica was struggling to keep a hold on Flint. 'Leave us to our business, and we'll leave you to yours.'

'Your servant,' said Roman, holding the hilt of his ceremonial sword as he bowed. 'Your humble servant.'

Jessica glared at Roman's back as he strode off down the corridor and walked into Appleton's office.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Trap

'THIS WON'T HURT a bit,' Cottingley lied.

Jessica chased the pain as it seared through her jaw. Her fingernails dug into the leather arms of the chair as the Professor continued to poke around inside her mouth, using a drill which felt as though it was the same one used to carve out the Grand Subterranean Palace of Windsor.

Finally, it was over. 'That should do it.' Cottingley peered into her mouth through his electromagnetic spectacles, adjusting one of the lens dials. 'Here, rinse with this, then spit in the basin.'

The fluid was warm and tasted of gin. Jessica would have bet her father's fortune on it actually being gin. Nevertheless, she did as instructed. She flicked her tongue to where her tooth had been, feeling the cold metal of the implant Cottingley had fixed into the gap.

'What does it do?' Jessica's words were slurred, her lips feeling twice their normal size.

'It is most ingenious.' Cottingley rinsed his hands at the laboratory sink. 'I'm quite proud of this one, I have to confess. It is a transmitting device, my dear. It will allow you to hear the words of another fitted with the same contraption, up to a distance of eight hundred yards.'

'I can see how that would be useful,' said Jessica, the taste of metal and blood in her mouth. 'Shall you be fitting the rest of the crew with one too?'

'Good heavens, no!' Cottingley's eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing into his tangled shock of white hair. 'It's made using Scientifica, my dear: and I used the last of our supply to make this one.'

Jessica sighed. She should have gone to the medical officer at Whitehall, like Flint had said.

'I'm ready, ma'am.' Atsu entered the lab, wearing a slim red silk dress and a black velvet cape fastened with a golden clasp in the shape of a dragon. The cape's hood was raised, obscuring Atsu's hair and most of her face. Only her mouth and chin were visible, the rest of her features lost in shadow.

'You don't have to come, Atsu, not if you don't want to.'

'But Sir Humphrey said I would be useful?'

'He did, yes. And there is no doubt your abilities would be a great assistance to us. But I do not want you to feel you are under orders, Atsu.'

'It is for the Empire!' The girl lowered her hood. She had piled her hair into a twirling blue spiral, secured by two thin golden rods. Her black eyes glittered as she grinned and made a well-practiced salute, the metal cuff at her wrist sliding up her forearm.

'Quite charming!' Cottingley was drying his hands on a suspiciously grubby towel. 'You are an exquisite oriental jewel, young lady.'

Atsu put her hand to her mouth and laughed. 'Thank you, Professor,' she said, curtsying.

'And she is far too young for the likes of you, Lancelot Cottingley,' said Jessica.

The Professor looked offended. 'Can a gentleman no longer pay a lady a compliment in this age of so-called equality? A pox on progress if it is so! A pox, I say!'

Flint walked into the room, fastening the buckle on his holster. 'What was that, Cottingley? You've got the pox? Again?'

'Mind your manners, you bloody ruffian!'

Flint grinned, tipping the brim of his hat as Cottingley scowled.

'Enough.' Jessica reached for her jacket. 'We have a job to do, remember?'

'Appleton is certain? Vampyres?' Cottingley opened a glass-fronted cabinet and ran his fingers along the rows of bottles and jars inside.

'As sure as he can be,' said Jessica. 'The marks on the bodies they have found; the sightings of the ones they'd thought were dead and buried. All signs point to there being a nest of the bloodsuckers, right here in London.'

'Then you'll be needing this.' Cottingley handed Jessica a tube filled with clear liquid, stoppered with a cork.

'Holy water?'

'Highly concentrated acetic acid,' said Cottingley, winking at Flint. 'It will burn the devils' skin right off their bones.'

__________

'What's the place called again?' Flint was sitting opposite Jessica and Atsu in the horse-drawn carriage. They had all agreed against taking another trip on the train.

'The Ratcatcher's Trap.'

'It doesn't sound very nice.' Atsu frowned.

'It won't be,' said Jessica. 'We'll need to keep our wits about us.'

'And what are we looking for?' asked Flint.

'Anything suspicious. Anyone who looks like they might know something, or have something to hide.'

'In Whitechapel?' Flint stared out at the passing streets. 'Where even the clergymen look guilty?'

'I will be able to tell.' Atsu crossed her arms, nodding seriously. 'If I get close enough.'

'With your sight?' said Flint. 'You can see what they're thinking, correct?'

'Yes, Mr Flint. And hear them too, if it is quiet enough.'

'I doubt the place will be silent,' said Flint, shaking his head.

'We can only do our best,' said Jessica. 'The important thing is that we try to blend in. Don't do anything to make them suspicious.'

'I should keep Mary in her holster then?' Flint winked at them, spinning the chamber of his revolver.

'Probably for the best, William. Though it may be prudent to keep your weapon handy.'

'I always do, Jessica.'

'Look, there is the Tower!' Atsu pointed out the window. The carriage was passing by the ancient walls of the medieval fortification. It sat like a stone beast, guarding the centre of the city from the lawlessness beyond. The rifles of the sentries poked up between the battlements.

Jessica stared at the floor, biting her lip. Her father would be in there, behind those very walls. Locked away.

She glanced up to see Flint looking at her, his expression kind. He took a deep breath through his nose, then wafted his hand in front of his face. 'You can always tell when you're in the East End.'

'It does have its own peculiar charms,' said Jessica, grateful for the change of mood. The carriage shook as its wheels clattered onto the cobbled streets of Whitechapel. 'Not far now.'

'We must remain silent, yes?' Atsu pulled up her hood, adjusting the clasp at her throat.

'That's right. William will do the talking. We are to pretend to be his... acquaintances for the evening.'

Flint grinned. 'My lucky night.'

Jessica ignored him. 'See if you can get inside their heads whilst he's speaking to them, Atsu. I'll be on the lookout for anything else suspicious.'

'Like vampyres!' Flint bared his teeth and shaped his fingers into claws. Jessica shook her head whilst Atsu giggled.

The carriage stopped and the driver thumped on the roof to indicate they'd reached their destination. Jessica had instructed him to take them to a street some distance from the tavern. She doubted many of its patrons were well-to-do enough to arrive by public transport.

'Mind your shoes.' Flint helped Atsu out of the carriage. 'Looks like they've forgotten to put out the red carpet again.' He offered his arm to Jessica but she refused, stepping down carefully between the piles of dirt on the street. She paid the driver and they walked into the narrow alley which led to the Trap. A train rattled high above them, steam billowing as it sped across the viaduct.

Jessica fastened her jacket. 'Are you prepared, William?'

'I've been in a good many places worse than this in my time. Steady wits and ready fists.'

'And no unnecessary risks,' said Jessica.

They walked on in silence. The fog had lifted, but the sky was the bruised purple of dusk. Rickety buildings leaned above them on either side, giving the alley a gloomy atmosphere which the few flickering gaslamps did little to brighten.

The Trap slumped against the brick pillar of the viaduct as if the building itself was drunk. Light flickered from behind ragged black curtains and Jessica could hear shouting and laughter, as well as the tuneless battering of a mistreated piano. She glanced at Atsu and nodded, then followed Flint towards the door.

There were around twenty people inside, most slouched at two long benches in the middle of the room. A man who looked older than the Empire itself sat at the piano, his fingers stumbling over the keys. Scowling women with too much paint on their faces circled the room, some carrying armfuls of bottles and mugs, others prowling between the tables like she-wolves in search of prey.

A few of the patrons looked up as they entered, but quickly glanced away. Despite the place's reputation, it appeared that nobody was looking for trouble. An overweight bald man with forearms like a pair of hams was slowly making the greasy surface of the bar even dirtier by rubbing it with a filthy rag.

Flint fished a coin from his pocket and slapped it down on the bar. The man carried on wiping, ignoring him.

'A stout and a whisky and a jug of eyewater for this pair.' Flint thumbed over his shoulder at Jessica and Atsu. The barman slid the coin into a pocket in the front of his apron and reached down under the counter.

'Not from round here, are you?'

'Who is?' Flint downed the whisky as soon as it was placed in front of him. 'Another.'

The barman shrugged and refilled Flint's glass. He pushed the jug of gin towards Jessica and Atsu without looking at them.

'You should find yourself a better piano player.' Flint rubbed his stubble, nodding towards the elderly musician in the corner.

'Old Frank? Deaf as a post.' The barman grinned, his single tooth dangling proud from swollen gums. 'Right enough though, he makes the rest of us wish we were too sometimes.'

Jessica and Atsu had agreed on a signal: the girl would cough twice if she'd picked up anything which might prove useful. She was silent, her head lowered.

'How much did this pair of pretties cost you?' The barman leered at Jessica, his face a scarlet web of burst veins.

'More than you make in a month, friend.' Flint pushed another coin across the bar. 'Here, have a drink yourself.'

'Don't mind if I do.'

'There's another in it for you if you could answer me a couple of questions.'

'What do I look like? A bloody blower?'

'You look like a sensible man to me.'

'Then you've obviously had too much of the rotgut, mate. Maybe you should be thinking of joining that there Temperance Society.' The barman's eyes narrowed, almost disappearing into the folds of his doughy face. 'Might keep you out of trouble.'

Jessica glanced at one of the benches. A man she hadn't noticed earlier was sitting with his back to them. He was dressed in a light grey morning suit and a matching top hat, a silver-tipped cane lying on the bench beside him.

'Please yourself,' said Flint. 'I'm sure there are others who will be only too glad to relieve me of my money.'

'In here?' The barman spat onto the floor beside him. 'Nearly everyone you'll meet... and some you'll never even see.'

'Cutpurses and cutthroats, you mean?'

'Aye... and worse.'

Flint took another coin out his pocket and twirled it between his fingers. 'Worse?'

'Listen mate, you seem alright. I'd take your lady friends and find somewhere else to wet your whistle if I was you.'

'You don't want our custom?'

The barman was about to answer when Atsu's coughing disturbed him. Jessica groaned. She had told the girl to be discreet. Instead, Atsu sounded like she was choking to death.

When Jessica turned round, it looked as if that's exactly what Atsu was doing. Her eyes were bulging beneath the cowl of her hood, both hands clutching at her throat. 'Atsu! Are you alright?' The girl shook her head, her face scarlet.

'What's up with her?' The barman leaned across the counter, scowling. 'She better not be about to throw up.'

The man in the grey suit still sat with his back to them. Jessica noticed his hand was clenched around a glass, his knuckles whitened with the pressure. Atsu was now making alarming gurgling noises, her hands frantically flailing at her neck. Slowly, the glass began to crack.

Jessica snatched the jug of gin from the bar. She pretended to stumble, let out a cry and flung the contents onto the seated man's back. He roared with anger and whirled round, the glass in front of him toppling onto its side. Atsu collapsed, falling into Flint's arms.

The man's eyes were obscured by spectacles, the lenses completely black. He reached down and picked up his cane, brandishing it in his hand like a sword. 'You stupid bitch,' he said, his voice a hiss of rage.

Jessica stood her ground. The man snarled, curling back his lips.

Then, as he rapped the floor with the tip of his cane, the place erupted.

Flint ducked as a glass soared through the air towards his head. It smashed into the shelves behind him, sending the barman diving for cover as jugs and bottles crashed to the floor.

Old Frank hammered even more tunelessly at the piano as everyone in the room got to their feet.

Jessica held a yell from behind her, then started as a wiry man in a filthy brown jacket thumped to the floor beside her.

She turned to see Flint rubbing his fist and grinning. His eyes widened. 'Behind you!'

Jessica spun just in time, managing to dodge the punch aimed at her head. She sidestepped and grabbed the woman's arm, twisting it sharply at the elbow. Her attacker screamed in pain and fell to her knees, nursing her broken limb.

The music continued, the pianist thumping down on the keys as a trio of heavy-set men clambered over the bench towards them.

'A welcoming committee,' said Flint, cracking his knuckles. 'Really, gentlemen, you shouldn't have.'

The first man toppled, felled by a sharp kick to the stomach. Flint crouched, readying himself for the other two assailants. 'Get out of here, Jessica.' He beckoned the men forward. 'I'll take care of our friends here.'

Atsu was leaning on the bar, her hands still at her throat. Jessica caught sight of one of the painted strumpets, rushing up behind Flint with a chair leg brandished above her head.

'If it's all the same to you,' said Jessica, vaulting the closest bench and kicking the woman in the face with her boot, 'I'll stay around a little longer, William.'

'Very well.' Flint ducked down quickly, jabbing his fists upwards into the groins of his two opponents. They crumpled to the floor, screaming in pain. 'On reflection, it is probably for the best.'

The rest of the patrons hung back, wary. One of them picked up a heavy green bottle and smashed it on a table. Another removed a thin blade from inside his jacket. One of the women reached down between her breasts and drew out a snub-nosed revolver.

'No need for any further trouble now.' Flint drew his own gun, aiming it at the woman. 'If we're quite finished here, ladies and gentlemen, we'll just be on our way.'

'William, wait!' Jessica had drawn her sword from its concealed sheath in her parasol. As she held it before her, she noticed everyone in the bar was smiling. Even the pianist had ceased playing and was now staring at them with a maniacal grin on his face. She turned, a sinking feeling in her gut.

The barman had Atsu gripped round the throat with one massive arm, a stained meat cleaver gripped in his hand.

'Drop your weapons,' he said. Flint and Jessica glanced at each other, then at Atsu's terrified face. Jessica laid her sword on the floor; Flint dropped his revolver beside it. The mob behind them cackled and jeered.

'All of you.' The barman released Atsu, who ran to Jessica. 'Drop them.' He raised the cleaver above his head. 'This here's a respectable place and we've had enough trouble for one night.'

'Go boil your balls, Frogg.' The man holding the broken bottle stepped forward. His black greasy hair was plastered across his scalp and a livid red scar next to his mouth made his grin appear unnaturally wide.

A glint of metal as the cleaver sliced through the air, then a thud as it embedded itself deep into wall inches from the man's head.

'I won't tell you again.' Frogg now had a rifle in his hands, slowly moving the barrel from one person to the next. 'I've had my fill of this. Get the hell out of my bar and don't come back, the lot of you.'

With much muttering and cursing, the group began to disperse, picking up hats and coats and trooping out of the bar.

'You'll regret this, Frogg.' A woman, prettier than the others, sneered at the barman, her long black hair shining like silk.

'Your kind don't scare me.' Frogg pulled the cork from a jug with his teeth and poured the clear contents into a streaked glass. A flicker of fear twisting the woman's features as he thrust the tumbler towards her. 'Care for drink, dearie?'

'Damn you, Frogg.' She spun on her heel and walked away, her white dress trailing on the floor behind her. She paused, then glared back at him. 'That won't keep us away forever. And forever... that's precisely what we have.' Her companions laughed and followed her out into the night.

Only a few people were left in the bar. They had scuttled to the back of the room when the fighting had broken out, and now quietly took their places back at the benches.

'You handled yourselves well,' said Frogg, his face redder than before. 'That lot are nothing but trouble.'

'We've seen worse, believe me.' Flint leaned against the bar and wiped the sweat from his brow. 'They're not from round here either, are they?'

Frogg's laugh sounded like a blocked drain. 'That they're not, mate. Bloody sods took this place over about a month ago. At first, I thought their money was as good as anyone's, but they soon started making a nuisance of themselves, and by then it was too late.'

'What do you mean?' said Flint.

Frogg peered into the surface of the bar as if it was a window into a bad memory. 'They've got my lass, that's why. Taken her to be part of their bloody troupe.'

'Troupe? Odd choice of word.'

'Well, that's what they bloody well are, isn't it?' said Frogg. 'Actors.'

'Actors?' Flint stared at him in astonishment. 'Not vam...' He paused. 'Actors?'

'Aye. They took over the Palace theatre. Some carnival show or the like. Very popular, it is, drawing folks from all over the city. Though it's just a front, of course. They get up to all sorts, after the curtain goes down.'

'The killings, you mean?'

Frogg glanced at the door. 'There's no proof they're behind them. But I don't believe in no coincidences neither. The murders started not long after they arrived.'

'You realise there are rumours,' said Jessica, 'that these so-called actors may not be all they claim.'

'Oh, I know all about the rumours, lass. Especially after seeing one of them change with my own eyes.'

'Change? What do you mean?'

'Into their true form, of course. They're bloody vampyres, aren't they?'

'You believe in vampyres?' Jessica chose her words carefully. Her orders were strict: no revealing the true nature of things to normal citizens unless absolutely necessary. 'In this day and age? In London?'

'London's a damn sight stranger than you might think, lass. And yes, I believe in vampyres...'

'Your daughter? Is she...'

'No, thank heaven. She's just one of their damn hangers-on. Seduced by them, so she is.'

'Have you tried to get her back? Talk to her?'

'Once.' Frogg frowned, spreading his fingers across the bar. 'I went to the theatre, one afternoon. Found her mopping the stage. It was like she was in a trance; didn't even know who I was. I couldn't get an ounce of sense out of her at all. And then he showed up.'

'Who?'

'That gent in the grey suit you gave a nice gin bath to.' Frogg grinned. 'Hoity-toity bastard and no mistake. And it was him that whispered his lies into my Cathy's ear.'

Jessica realised she hadn't noticed him during the fight; as if he had vanished into thin air. 'He's their leader?'

'Aye. The rest of them jump when he tells them to. Follow him round like bloody lapdogs.'

'Where is this theatre, exactly? The Palace, you said it was called?'

'That's right, lass. Just round the corner from here, on Whitechapel Road itself. Grand old place, looks like one of them old Egyptian temples. You can't miss it.'

'Well, I think we should pay a little visit to the Palace, don't you William?'

Flint grinned, straightening his hat. 'Thought you'd never ask, Jessica.'

'And we'll see if we can find your daughter, Frogg.'

'If you could get her back from those bloody savages, I'd be forever in your debt, lass. You'll know her by her hair if you see her. Fiery red it is.' He rubbed his bald head. 'Just like mine used to be.'

'I can make no promises. But we shall try.'

'Thank you.' Frogg picked up the glass he'd offered to the woman earlier. 'Care for a drink now?'

Jessica took the glass and sniffed the contents. The liquid inside was clear and odourless. 'What's this?' she said, recalling the fear on the black-haired woman's face. 'Holy water?'

'No, lass, just normal stuff from the tap.' Frogg grinned, showing his single tooth. 'But those bastards don't need to know that now, do they?'

CHAPTER SIX

Theatre of the Damned

'IT WAS TERRIBLE.' Atsu shivered as they walked towards Whitechapel Road. 'It was as if he was inside my head.'

'You're safe now, Atsu,' said Jessica. 'Now, what did you see?'

'I have never seen anything so dark before. Normally, I can see pictures. People's thoughts and dreams, or their fears. They are like magic lantern shows. Flickering in and out of existence. Not real.'

'His thoughts were different?'

'That is the thing, ma'am. He had no thoughts. None that I could see, at least. All I could see were his eyes, like an animal's. Staring back at me.'

'And that's when you felt you were choking?'

Atsu's face paled. 'Yes! I could feel hands on my throat, tightening. If you had not broken the spell, then... thank you, ma'am.'

'I'm just glad you are unharmed, Atsu. Perhaps you should return to the Zephyr, have Cottingley take a look at you?'

'No! I wish to come with you and Mr Flint.'

'Very well, Atsu. I for one will feel better with you beside us, forewarning us of possible danger in our path.'

'That is my job, ma'am.'

'That must be the place.' Flint pointed at a large building which dwarfed its neighbours, both in size and grandeur. Built from sand-coloured stone, its ornate columns stood either side of a huge wooden door, covered in carvings of hieroglyphs inlaid with gilt. Between the columns, two statues towered: one, a muscular male figure with the scowling head of a hawk; the second a supple female form, its head in the shape of a cat.

'Remember Luxor?' Flint grinned.

'Indeed I do,' said Jessica. They had barely escaped from the claws of the shapeshifting Bast cultists with their lives. 'Let us hope things are not quite so sharp behind the doors of the this temple, William. She pointed to a poster plastered to the wall beside the door, identical to the one Flint had leered at in the station. 'And look: it would appear you will get to see your lurid little entertainment after all.'

'Ah, it is indeed my lucky night. So what is our plan of attack? Burst in and stake every bloodsucker we find? Or something more subtle?' Flint had drawn his revolver, pushing the brim of his hat up with its barrel.

'We have our orders, William: to cleanse this nest. But we must also remember three things. First, Frogg's daughter is likely inside and is, by all accounts, an innocent. Second, the one who held Atsu in his power is not a foe I think we should underestimate. Third, the hour is late and the place appears to be as well secured as a pharaoh's tomb.'

'So we sneak in? Take them by the tradesmen's entrance?' Flint's gold tooth shone in the gaslight.

'I believe it's called the stage door,' said Jessica, walking into a narrow alley which led into the darkness beside the Palace Theatre.

__________

'There is no door,' said Atsu. 'Perhaps it is elsewhere?'

They were surrounded on three sides by brick. On their right, the theatre wall was rough and blank, as if all effort had been spent on the front alone.

'It must be here.' Jessica ran her fingers over the bricks, looking for a latch or a hinge that would give away the location of a hidden door. Nothing.

'So it's the direct approach after all?'

'It would appear so, William. Damn these detestable creatures. They may well turn into bats and fly in through a hole in the roof for all we know!'

'No, ma'am.' Atsu's chin was raised. 'I think they enter through a hole in the ground.' There was a hollow sound from a patch of matted straw as she tapped it with the heel of her boot.

'Makes sense.' Flint knelt down, clearing away the debris. 'If there's one thing a vampyre's fond of, it's being all cosy-like underground.' A wooden hatch was now visible, a metal ring set flush into its surface. Flint picked at it with the blade of his knife, then hooked his finger through and lifted. 'Shall we?'

'We must still be cautious,' said Jessica. 'If this is the entrance to their lair, it is likely to be well guarded.'

'I will be able to see ahead,' said Atsu. 'Even the ones without souls, they have an aura I can detect.'

'See?' said Flint. 'Nothing to worry about. Is there, Atsu?'

The girl closed her eyes, her forehead creased in concentration. When she opened them again, her eyes were completely white. 'There is nothing beneath,' said Atsu. 'It is a tunnel, leading to the theatre. It is empty.' Colour faded back into her irises. 'It is safe for us to enter, ma'am.'

'Very well,' said Jessica, lighting a thin phosphor torch. 'Ready your weapons. Let's shine some light into this dark little corner of the Empire, shall we?'

Flint cocked his revolver with a well-practiced move of one hand and held up his knife with the other. Jessica unsheathed her sword and fixed the torch to a loop in her lapel.

'We need no special weapons?' Atsu clutched at the dragon clasp of her cape. 'I thought we needed them to hunt the sharp-tooths.'

'Only bullets and steel,' said Flint. 'Though we must get them through their hearts, that is true.'

Jessica swung her blade swiftly down by her side. 'Or take their heads.'

'When you spoke to the man in the bar, he mentioned holy water. Do we have some?'

'No, Atsu, we do not. That must be wielded by someone who is devout to be effective against the vampyres. And devout, I'm afraid, is something we are not.'

'Thank Christ for that!' said Flint, and disappeared down into the darkness.

__________

The walls of the gloomy tunnel appeared to be scratched from the earth: great gouges scored out of the ground to create a rough passageway. Shadows danced in the light of Jessica's torch as they assembled at the bottom of the steps.

'This way.' Jessica trusted Atsu's power. Though the girl was the newest member of the Diamonds, her eagerness and loyalty were not in question. 'Stay on your guard,' she said, crouching low as she edged forward.

The tunnel sloped down gently as they continued. After a few feet, it turned sharply to the left, the light swallowed by the darkness as the tunnel stretched before them. They stayed close, keeping silent as they crept on.

After a few yards, their progress was halted by a black stone door. Jessica shone her torch on its surface: it was carved with reliefs of grotesque creatures involved in obscene acts of depravity which made the skin of her forearms crawl.

'Demons,' said Flint, peering closer. 'They want intruders to think this is the portal to hell itself.'

'Most likely. But look,' Jessica pointed her torch at a circular carving in the centre of the door, 'have you seen this symbol before?'

It was a stone disc, protruding from the surface. On it were carved three interlocking circles. In their centre was a single, staring eye.

'I have not,' said Flint. Atsu shook her head.

'It has elements of the Kabbalah,' said Jessica, 'but it is not a sigil I have encountered before. See the way the eye is carved?' She traced her fingers along the bottom lid, where a stone sphere bulged as if ready to drip. 'It is as though it is weeping.'

'Or bleeding,' said Flint.

'Very astute.' The voice behind them was female. Cold.

Jessica turned slowly, gripping the handle of her sword.

The vampyre had not yet taken its full form. Her blonde hair was like smoke, billowing in the draft of the tunnel. The creature's legs disappeared below her knees, where a misty white vapour was slowly beginning to solidify. Her face was pale and bloodless; her eyes black and liquid. Jessica could see the points of the vampyre's teeth as she spoke, nestling in her mouth like a pair vipers.

'You shall not leave this place with your lives. I will feast on your marrow.' Her lips curled in a hideous parody of a smile as Flint cocked his revolver. 'And your little baubles and trinkets are useless against me.'

Jessica readied her stance. The vampyre was about six feet from them. She knew she could close the gap in less than a second. But she also knew the bloodsuckers were fast. Very fast. Jessica would only have one chance.

She stared into the creature's soulless eyes, waiting for the moment she knew would come: the fraction of a second when the vampyre's defences would lower beneath the weight of its own arrogance.

The moment never came. A click and a flash of metal and the vampyre's head tumbled from its shoulders, rolling at Jessica's feet.

Atsu pressed the button on her wrist cuff a second time, and the katana blade slid back into the metal. She looked at Jessica with a thoughtful expression.

'Yes, removing the head does appear to work. Thank you, ma'am.'

A moment of silence, then the tunnel echoed with the sound of Flint's raucous laughter. 'Remind me never to get on your bad side, Atsu. Or to offer to shake your hand.'

'Do not worry, Mr Flint.' Atsu bowed. 'Shaking hands is not my country's custom.'

'You continue to impress by the second, Atsu.' Jessica kicked the vampyre's head into the darkness. Its body had already turned to dust, leaving a faint mist which was already disappearing. 'Now, let us see if we cannot get this door open.'

They tried everything. Pushing with all of their combined effort. Pressing the circular carving in the centre. Inserting fingers and blades into the eyes, mouths and nostrils of the demonic faces which mocked them with stony grins. They tried muttering words and incantations which they had picked up from past travels or from ancient tomes of forbidden knowledge.

The door refused to yield.

'I think it must only open to their own kind,' said Jessica, taking a step back. 'We are not going to gain entry via this route.'

'So what do you suggest? Return with some of Cottingley's explosive devices?'

'No, William. That would alert them too quickly to our presence. I think instead that you are going to get your wish.'

'Meaning?'

'We shall return to the theatre tomorrow evening. As paying customers.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

A Night on the Town

'VERY WELL.' APPLETON'S voice scratched out of the mouthpiece. 'Though I must remind you, Jessica. Time is of the essence.'

'We are aware of that, sir. We aim to have the mission complete by midnight.'

'Bloody vampyres! Why did they have to appear at the precise time the Whitechapel War Memorial is due to be unveiled by Her Majesty?'

'Perhaps it is no coincidence, sir?'

'You think they aim to strike at the heart of the Empire itself? Their kind are usually satisfied feasting on a rather less stately menu.'

'We should not rule out the possibility, sir. I saw their leader. He had a certain air about him. It would not surprise me if he has set his sights a little higher than is normal.'

'You have one chance, Jessica. To clear up this little annoyance with the minimum of fuss. If you fail, I will have no option but to send in the Elite Corps.'

Tommy crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. Jessica tried not to laugh. 'We shall not fail, sir. You may tell Roman and his colleagues that their services will not be required.'

'I hope that proves to be the case, Jessica. I look forward to your next message, informing me of your mission's success. God speed. And God save the Empire!'

Jessica flicked the switch on the base of the transmitter. She, Atsu and Flint had returned to the Zephyr last night and had slept in their cabins whilst the ship was still berthed at Clapham. Tommy's hammering in the engine room had gone on late into the night, but Jessica had eventually managed to drift off to sleep, wakening only once from a nightmare where a noble knight had been locked up in a wicked witch's tower.

'What are we going to do now? Until this evening's performance?' Flint was pacing the galley.

'There are always jobs to be done, William. You could scrub the decks if you wish?'

'That'll be the day! You think me a cabin boy, Jessica?'

'I've told you before, William. There is no rank and file on board this ship. We are all equal.'

'Aye, all equally doomed.' Flint made his way towards the hatch leading up to the deck. 'But if it makes her ladyship happy,' he said, tipping the brim of his hat, 'I'll see what needs done up above.'

Cottingley peered up from tinkering at some complex piece of apparatus, his left eye gigantic through the magnifying lens strapped to his forehead. He resembled some strange species of bewhiskered insect as he blinked at Jessica. 'I believe I have managed, with the faintest residue of the last our Scientifica, to assemble another oral transmitter. Who would you like me to fit it to?'

Jessica probed her false tooth with her tongue. 'Won't the recipient require to have one of their own teeth removed first?'

'Ah, true, true...' Cottingley tapped his bottom lip with his forefinger, then held it aloft. 'But I have a hammer and a pair of pliers which would be perfect for the job!'

'I doubt I will find many willing volunteers, Professor.'

'Doesn't Mr Flint already have a false tooth? That gaudy lump of gold?'

'I wouldn't let him hear you refer to it as that, Professor. It has personal significance to him. He will not allow it to be tinkered with, trust me.'

'A great pity.' Cottingley picked up the tiny machine he had been working on with a pair of tweezers. 'Perhaps we must wait until another one of you returns from the fray minus a molar.'

Atsu had been sitting silently, her gaze flitting between them. 'I will volunteer, ma'am. I am not afraid of Professor Cottingley's hammer and pliers.'

Jessica shook her head. 'I'm not having one of my crew suffer needless pain, especially before a mission. Your offer is appreciated and noted, Atsu, but overruled.'

'Oh, there would be no pain,' said Cottingley. 'The opiate anaesthetic I have developed freezes the nerve immediately, without any impairment of motion or of speech.'

'Why didn't you apply me with that yesterday?'

'It was not... fully tested, my dear.'

'And now you are sure it is safe?'

'From observations I made upon my test subject, yes, I am. The nerve is isolated and frozen for forty-eight hours. By that time, any oral wounding will have healed of its own accord. Well, my dear,' he said, looking at Atsu, 'what say you?'

Atsu nodded eagerly. 'I wish to be useful, ma'am. I have one that already is half broken.' She opened her mouth wide, pointing to her back teeth.

'You more than proved your worth last night, Atsu. You do not need to do any more to impress me. Though, it has to be said, the device would have its uses.' Jessica stood, looking down at the girl. 'It is your decision, Atsu. And Professor, if this procedure of yours is not as smooth as you claim it to be, I shall be confiscating your keys to the laboratory again.'

Cottingley's moustache curled upwards. 'I have no fear of that, my dear. The creature I conducted my experiments on had no complaints!'

He stood, beckoning Atsu to follow him. 'But then, of course, it was unable to speak...'

__________

Jessica sighed and took out another skirt from her wardrobe. She had to be able to pass for a normal citizen, dressed as if she was about to enjoy a night at the theatre. But she would also need to choose something which didn't impede her movements when it came to the time to fight.

She took out a black corset, made from supple leather. After fastening the buttons of a high-necked white blouse, she fixed the corset in place on top. It felt a little strange, but the look was undeniably voguish.

Next she selected a red chiffon skirt, loose enough to allow her legs to move freely. She rolled up a pair of black stockings, then fastened the clasps of her boots. Turning from one side to another as she looked at herself in the mirror, she thought she could almost pass for a fashionable Londoner. When she completed the outfit with a top hat and a pocket watch on a silver chain around her neck, she hardly recognised herself.

'My my,' said Flint as she walked back into the galley. 'Excuse me, miss. Have you seen our commander?'

'Very amusing, William.' Jessica was surprised to feel herself blushing. 'I see you have also decided to make a modicum of effort for our evening on the town.'

Flint stood with his hands on his hips, his fingers hitched into the loops of his belt. He wore the same pair of red flannel britches, but had changed into a gold waistcoat, embroidered with various nautical designs and motifs. He had swapped his greatcoat for a three-quarter length navy jacket and also wore a black topper, his blond hair flowing down from underneath.

'Very dapper, William. You could almost pass for a gentleman.'

Flint winked, then whistled. Jessica turned to see Atsu in the doorway. She had twisted her hair into an elaborate spiral arrangement, fixed with gold pins and enamel brooches in the shape of butterflies. Her dress was pale green silk, long and sleek and split on one side to her thigh. She bowed at them, then hid her giggle behind a delicate white lace fan, her metal cuff sliding up her wrist.

'Your tooth? It was as Cottingley said?'

'Yes ma'am. I feel no pain. And now we are able to talk to each other when separated.'

'We should test it before we enter the theatre. Remind me, won't you, Atsu?'

'You look like a right trio of toffs and no mistake.' Tommy walked in from the navigation chamber, a spanner in his hand and oil streaked across his face. 'Makes me wish I was coming with you.'

'It'd take more than a change of clothes to turn you into a gentleman, Pike.' Flint flashed his gold-flecked grin. 'Best you leave this sort of thing to your elders and betters, no?'

'Away with you, Mr Flint. You know I'm not much younger than you!'

'Aye, but a lot less wise in the ways of the world, Pike.'

'Thomas is the only one amongst you with any manners at all.' The Zephyr's voice echoed through the galley. 'And certainly the only one who knows how to treat a lady.'

Flint spluttered. 'What have you been up to with that spanner, Pike?'

'Enough!' Jessica fastened her velvet jacket, still self-conscious at having her corset on display. 'When you are quite ready, it is almost time for tonight's show to begin.'

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Palace of Earthly Nymphs

THEY WERE SILENT for most of the journey, busy checking their weaponry. Flint with his revolver and knife; Jessica with her sword and a small pistol; Atsu with the concealed katana in her wrist cuff. Her hairpins, Atsu had informed them, were also darts with poisoned tips; the butterfly clasps concealed throwing stars with razor edges. Flint had whistled in appreciation.

They alighted outside the Palace Theatre, where the street throbbed with activity. Carriages and mechanical vehicles deposited a stream of audience members outside the mock Egyptian edifice, where twin braziers in front of the statues released glowing embers up into the night. There was an air of anticipation, and the excited conversations of the assembled crowd merged into an almost deafening hubbub.

'Perfect conditions to test our little devices.' Jessica tapped her tooth with a painted black fingernail. Atsu nodded, copying the gesture.

'I shall approach the theatre doors, Atsu. You stay here with William and I shall attempt to communicate with you when I am in position.

Jessica's outfit appeared to be a success. As she wove her way through the crowd, she received appreciative glances from several fashionable ladies, and more than a few gentlemen raised their hats as she passed. When she reached the theatre doors she stopped, peering back over the heads of the throng. Atsu and Flint were at the rear of the crowd, the girl standing on tiptoe and waving excitedly. Jessica flicked the tiny button on the side of her tooth with her tongue, as Cottingley had instructed.

'Can you hear me, Atsu?' She kept her voice low.

'Yes!' It was as if Atsu's reply came from within her head, like the buzz of an insect trapped in her ear. 'Yes, ma'am, I can hear you! Can you hear me?'

'I can. Test successful. Going silent.' Jessica flicked again at the button: there was no point in drawing undue attention to herself. She returned to where Flint and Atsu waited.

'I could hear your voice as if you were standing next to me, ma'am!'

Jessica touched Atsu on the shoulder. 'You can turn it off now. I can still hear you in my head.'

Atsu looked as though she was concentrating, then grinned. 'There. Is that better?'

'Yes, thank you. Well, Cottingley has outdone himself for a change. That actually worked.'

'Makes a change from that time his self-propelling boots set fire to my trousers,' said Flint, then turned his head towards the theatre. 'Look, the doors are opening.'

Jessica and her companions followed the surge as the crowd rushed forwards. They were soon inside the foyer, which was even more ornate than the theatre's facade. A pair of red carpeted staircases curved upwards, leading to the upper galleries. Crimson velvet curtains had been swept back between the stairs, revealing the entrance to the stalls.

'I took the liberty of purchasing us seats near the back,' said Jessica. 'Better to make our exit during the encore.' She showed her ticket to a smiling attendant who was dressed in flowing red robes.

'Your seats are this way,' he said, pointing towards the stalls. 'Do enjoy the show.' It was hard to tell if he was a bloodsucker or merely one of their chattels, though Jessica suspected the latter. His complexion had a ruddiness about it which suggested blood still flowed in his veins.

The house was almost full as they took their seats in the second back row. Flint scowled when he realised he was sitting behind a tall man with a full head of bushy brown hair. Atsu offered to swap seats but he refused, stating he would cut a channel through the fellow's mane with his knife is he needed a better view. Jessica almost believed him.

The gaslights dimmed as the last of the audience took their seats. Then, as if all had been extinguished by a sudden gust of wind, everything went black.

A gasp rippled through the theatre as a ghostly figure appeared to materialise on stage. A pale woman with long black hair, she was wearing a thin silk dress through which the curves of her body were clearly visible. It was the same woman from The Trap: the one who had threatened Frogg.

'It's all done with mirrors, you know.' Flint glared back at the old woman beside him who turned round and told him to hush. He lowered his voice to a whisper. 'Mirrors and lights. I've seen it before.'

'Welcome, ladies and gentlemen.' The woman's voice was rich and languid. 'I am Princess Salome, and I welcome you all to our humble entertainment.' She was fully visible now, lit in the glow of a single gaslight. 'Tonight you shall witness such wonders, the like of which you have seen only in your wildest imaginings!'

'That alone will be worth the price of admission, if my imaginings are anything to go by,' said Flint. This time it was Jessica who put a finger to her lips. She wanted to hear what the premise of this charade was. This Princess Salome was most definitely a vampyre.

'By the end of the evening,' continued Salome, 'I promise that you will be amazed. And I promise that some of you will never be the same again.' The light dimmed, making her eyes gleam as if they were on fire. 'But now,' she said, 'let our spectacle commence!'

She stepped back, appearing to melt into the shadows. Then, with a sudden blaze of light, a dazzling fireball erupted. Jessica could feel the heat from the flames, even from their position near the back of the theatre. As her eyes readjusted, she could see a tall, sinewy man, dressed only in a loincloth. His body glistened, covered in some kind of lotion. As he put a flaming torch to his lips and belched out another great burst of fire, a cloth dropped down behind him, proclaiming him to be the Great Infernus, Master of the Flames.

In a series of increasingly dangerous routines, the Great Infernus juggled with what appeared to be molten lava, lay down in a bathtub full of raging flames and, for his finale, set himself alight until he had turned into a human torch. Then, like a candle being snuffed out, he was gone, replaced by the slender form of Salome.

She gestured for the cheering and applause to cease. 'And now,' she said, 'our very own three graces; our tantalising trinity of titillation; our divine daughters of delectation. The Earthly Nymphs themselves, ladies and gentlemen!'

With what Jessica supposed most people would assume was trickery, Salome levitated above the boards and disappeared in a thick cloud of white smoke. Then, from the shadows of the stage, supple pale forms faded into view. It was as if every man in the theatre leaned forward in their seats, their breath held tight in their chests.

The shapes solidified into three young women. They stood in the centre of the stage, on what must have been a revolving platform. As they posed suggestively, the only movement was from their gossamer robes: so transparent as to be almost invisible. Music accompanied the tableau: a hypnotic swell of strings which seemed to throb inside Jessica's head.

She glanced at Flint. He was biting his bottom lip, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead as he stared rigidly ahead. Atsu sat similarly trance-like, her mouth agape. All around, the rest of the audience were in a similar state, as if under the influence of some powerful narcotic. Only Jessica appeared to be unaffected, though the pounding in her head suggested she was not completely immune.

At last the enchantment faded, and a sound swept through the theatre as if the entire audience had let out a collective sigh. The nymphs retreated into the shadows and Salome took position once more at the front of the stage.

'Are you alright?' Jessica whispered to Flint.

'Aye, fine.' He rubbed his eyes. 'Did I drift off to sleep? Don't tell me I missed the headline act?'

Jessica was about to reply when Salome spoke. 'Ladies and gentlemen, I trust you were as moved as I by the transfixing power of our Earthly Nymphs. A glimpse of their mysteries is rare indeed. You are privileged, I assure you. And now,' she swept her arms in front of her, 'our grand finale. Please show your appreciation, ladies and gentlemen, for the one, the only Master of the Mind, the Commander of Consciousness, the Demigod of Dreams... Mister Mephisto!'

It was if Mephisto stepped through Salome. Her body shimmered, then faded from view, her place taken by the man who had held Atsu in his mesmeric grip at The Trap. Tonight, he was dressed in an immaculate black frock coat. He wore no hat; his slick black hair swept back from a strong forehead, moulded to his skull like a tight-fitting cap. His eyes were still obscured by his darkened spectacles; his mouth set in a solemn expression above his clipped black beard.

The music swelled from the orchestra pit, causing Jessica to feel yet again as if she was adrift on some strange sea. Mephisto bowed, almost touching the stage as he swept his arms in a grand gesture before him. A trace of a smile played at his lips as he reached up and removed his spectacles. There were gasps from the audience as he fixed them with his stare. His eyes were completely black.

'My friends.' Mephisto's voice was deep and imposing, flowing thickly from his lips. 'I am humbled to welcome so many new acquaintances into my domain. You are all most welcome. Tonight you are about to see things few have been allowed to witness.' He spread his arms, flexing his fingers as if about to play an instrument.

'May I have a volunteer?' Dozens of hands shot up. 'One at a time, ladies and gentlemen, one at a time.' He stroked his beard as he scanned the people seated in the front few rows.

'You.' He pointed to a young woman with a pink ostrich feather in her hair. Wordlessly, she rose and walked up the steps at the side of the stage. Mephisto beckoned her forward and she stood beside him, seemingly in a trance. Jessica shifted uneasily in her chair. Nobody seemed disturbed by what was taking place, all eyes fixed on the black-eyed vampyre before them.

'Excellent,' he said. Mephisto closed his eyes and put his right hand behind the woman's head. As he lowered it towards the floor, so too did the woman descend, as if lowered on an invisible thread. He positioned his left hand above her feet and raised it. Soon, the woman was floating horizontally in front of him, the feather in her hair drooping down towards the stage floor.

The music rose to a crescendo. Jessica's lids drooped; she pinched the skin on the back of her hand, willing herself to remain alert. On stage, Mephisto performed a series of elaborate gestures. The woman's body rose higher, then her motionless form drifted off to the side until she was out of sight, vanished behind the curtain.

'Another brave volunteer?' A forest of hands appeared once more. 'Someone from the back of the stalls, perhaps?' Jessica's skin prickled as Mephisto's black eyes appeared to seek them out.

'Focus,' she whispered. Flint managed a nod.

Jessica's gut lurched as she saw Atsu's arm was raised. 'No, Atsu!'

'You,' said Mephisto, pointing at her.

Jessica made to stand, but it was too late. Before she could find the strength to move, Atsu was walking down the aisle, her eyes gazing up at the vampyre smiling victoriously at Jessica from the stage.

CHAPTER NINE

Backstage

JESSICA FLICKED THE button on her tooth.

'Atsu! Come back, it's a trap!'

Nothing. Either Atsu hadn't activated her transmitter device, or she was unable to speak. The music changed tempo, continuing to swell throughout the theatre. Jessica's limbs were powerless.

She was unable to move as she watched Atsu climb the steps to the stage, moving stiffly like one of the automata in the Queen's birthday parade. Flint too was stuck fast; his eyes were glassy, still under whatever spell the vampyres were weaving. Jessica gritted her teeth as Atsu stopped in front of Mephisto, looking up at him as if he was a kindly uncle.

Mephisto clicked his fingers and Atsu's eyes snapped shut. Then, positioning himself behind her with his hands either side of her head, he walked backwards. Atsu's upper body descended as her feet began to rise, until she too was lying vertically, suspended in mid air. With a bow and a flourish, Mephisto took a step to one side and pretended to blow the unconscious Atsu a kiss. Her body floated out of sight, off to where the previous woman had disappeared.

The music increased in volume, hurting Jessica's ears. As Mephisto spread his arms wide, the fire-eater, the trio of alleged nymphs and Salome returned to the stage. They stood in a line, bowing to the motionless audience. Mephisto gave another click of his fingers, and the music stopped. There was a second or two of complete silence, then the theatre erupted to the sound of applause and cries for an encore. Everyone was on their feet, including Flint, who threw his hat into the air and cheered.

The strength returned to Jessica's limbs. 'Snap out of your stupor, William!'

He looked at her with a puzzled expression, still cheering.

'I'm sorry, William.' She slapped him hard in the face. Flint's eyes snapped alert and he stopped applauding, glancing around him with a bewildered expression.

'What? Where...? Where's Atsu?'

'They've taken her, William.' Jessica had to shout to make herself heard above the tumultuous applause, but nobody paid them the slightest attention. 'This whole thing, it's nothing but a front. The music, the acts: they create a glamour, William. Stupefying people, so that vile creature can choose his victims like a child in a toyshop!'

'The gent in the middle?' The cast of the show were still receiving their acclaim. Mephisto bent down to scoop up another armful of flowers which had been thrown onto the stage.

'He's the nest leader, Flint. And he's got Atsu.'

'We have to get her back! Damn these bloody creatures!' Flint flung his hat towards the stage. It fell several rows short, hitting an elderly gentleman on the back of the head. He didn't flinch, continuing to clap with gusto.

'We shall, William. Now, in fact. Our plan is unaltered: we go backstage and cleanse this place of the vermin infesting it. Though we must proceed with caution. Not only is the tavern's daughter held captive here, but now so is our navigator.'

'If those bastards lay so much as a filth-encrusted fingernail on her, I'll rip their bloody heads off with my bare hands and stuff them up their bloody —'

'Excuse me.' The red-robed attendant leaned over and laid his hand on Flint's shoulder. 'You must come with me. Both of you.'

Flint whirled round, grabbing the attendant's hand and twisting it. The man yelped with pain and cowered from Flint's raised fist.

'No, William,' said Jessica. 'I imagine this gentleman is simply wondering why we are not showing our appreciation like the others?' The attendant glared at her, rubbing his wrist. 'Why yes, of course we'd be happy to go with you, sir. Please, lead the way.'

'No false moves,' he said, ushering them out into the aisle. 'You won't last longer than a second if you try anything.'

'You can trust us, sir. We wish to cause no trouble here,' Jessica said. She could tell Flint was struggling to remain silent. 'Not when there are so many innocents around.'

'We'll see who's guilty and who's innocent in a moment,' said the attendant. 'Now stay quiet and walk.' He led them past the front row of the stalls, then towards a small curtained opening to the left of the stage. The audience were still gazing forwards, clapping and cheering with no sign of diminished enthusiasm. No-one noticed as they stepped behind the curtain.

No-one apart from Mephisto, who stared down at them with his black marble eyes, a cruel smile twisting his face into a mask of triumph.

__________

'Stop.' They were in a small chamber, the applause from the auditorium thundering behind them. The walls were covered in rich red paper, with light from a small gasburner providing the only illumination. The attendant clapped his hands and a panel in the wall ahead of them slid open. Through it came two more figures: one male, the other female. The dullness of their eyes and the pallor of their skin betrayed them as vampyres.

'Take them,' said the attendant. 'Prove your worth as new members of the nest.'

The male gave a guttural growl and leapt forward, fingers hooked into claws.

'At last,' said Flint. With a flash, his knife was in his hand. And with a second flash, even quicker, the blade was protruding from the vampyre's chest.

Jessica ducked as the other beast lunged towards her. Its claws knocked off her hat, which tumbled to the ground.

'Now that was very rude,' she said. 'Please allow me to teach you some manners.'

The vampyre had time to open its mouth, but not to scream. Its head rolled to a stop beside the top hat, separated from its body by the lightning-fast sweep of Jessica's sword.

'So,' said Jessica, turning back to where the attendant had been standing. 'Where is it you would like to take us, exactly?'

The man was on his knees, his hands clasped together. 'Please, don't kill me! I'm only one of their servants. I'm not like them, honest I'm not.'

'Then why,' said Flint, prodding his knife under the man's chin, 'do you stay with them? They're an abomination, man!'

'It's Mephisto. He has put me under a curse. If I leave this place, I'll burst into flame, just like the Great Infernus!'

Flint sneered down at him. 'Do you believe him, Jessica?'

'I don't know, William. I suppose there's only one way to find out, isn't there?' She grabbed the attendant's robe and hauled him to his feet. 'Now, which way was it to the exit?'

'No, please! I beg you! I'll do anything!'

'Tell us,' said Jessica, loosening her grip, 'where Mephisto keeps his captives.'

He looked from Jessica to Flint, then sagged. 'In the basement. They've converted it into a crypt. It's where they decide, Mephisto and Salome.'

'Decide what?'

'Whether to turn them... or to feast on them.'

'And it is through that passage?'

The man nodded.

'Thank you. Now that wasn't so hard now, was it?' Jessica smiled sweetly. 'Oh, William?'

Flint grinned and took a step forward. 'Yes, my lady?'

'Two hours should do it, I think.'

'This usually does the job for at least three,' said Flint, then head-butted the attendant unconscious.

CHAPTER TEN

The Crypt

'SOUNDS LIKE THE show is finally over.' Flint cocked his head. The applause and cheering from the auditorium had stopped, as had the music which had seemingly hypnotised the audience.

'Then I would imagine Mephisto and his troupe will be returning to their crypt,' said Jessica. 'We should tread carefully, William. I want it to be us who has the advantage of surprise.'

'How many of them do you think there are?'

'It is difficult to be certain. Mephisto, Salome and the nymphs, definitely. The flaming man: I am not sure if he is a vampyre or an efreet. And of course, there may well be more. I doubt all of the bloodsuckers are as talented as those we witnessed from our seats.'

'Talented or no, they all die the same.'

'Just remember, our priority has changed. We must ensure Atsu's safety at all costs. Then the barkeep's daughter and any others who we are certain have not been turned. No innocents need perish tonight, William.'

'That's not in the rules though, is it? How is it Appleton refers to it? Acceptable losses?'

'Damn his rules! It's not Appleton or others hiding behind the safety of their desks who risk their lives for the Empire, is it?'

'The last time I saw Appleton take a risk was when he drank his tea without milk in it.'

'Precisely!' Jessica leaned down to retrieve her top hat from beside the vampyre's head. Its bloodshot eyes gazed lifelessly up at her, its body turned to a pile of dust. 'Now, let's find this crypt and put an end to this nest once and for all.'

The panel in the wall was still open. They slipped through it and found themselves in a brick-walled corridor, phosphor lights dangling from the ceiling at regular intervals. There was a door at the far end: plain and wooden, unlike the one they had been unable to open last night.

'I doubt they have many uninvited guests coming this way.'

'Yet I expect it to be guarded, nonetheless. Ready your weapons, William.'

They crept forward. Jessica removed her hat and put her ear to the door. She nodded at William to ready himself, then pushed.

She froze. At first, Jessica thought they were facing an entire army of the undead. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw instead that the room was filled with mannequins, their lifeless forms draped with a multitude of costumes and theatrical outfits.

'Enough here to dress the entire Elite Corps,' said Flint, prodding the dummy closest to him. 'And I'd love to see Roman in this here bonnet and pinafore, wouldn't you?'

'Focus, William. We must be on our guard.' She glimpsed the hint of a movement from the corner of her eye. 'Hold, did you see something?'

'No, it must have been a trick of the light, nothing more.'

'Tread carefully, William, I'm not convinced we're alone.'

'Indeed you are not.' One of the so-called nymphs stepped out from behind a mannequin. 'Are they, sisters?' The other two members of the ghastly trio appeared. Still wearing their stage costumes, their naked bodies were clearly visible beneath the shimmering fabric.

'My,' said one. 'Isn't he handsome?' She caressed the curves of her own body. 'And this girl here, so pretty...' She turned to her companions, her voice child-like. 'Can I touch them? I promise not to break them this time.'

'Be patient, sister.' The nymph who had first appeared glided closer to Jessica and Flint. 'They have an odour about them. I do not think they are our normal type of guests.'

'Then it is settled,' said the third, her voice old and cracked, at odds with her youthful appearance. 'They must die.'

Slowly, the three figures embraced, their limbs entwined. As they opened their mouths and sang, their voices blended into a harmony which seemed to seep into Jessica's head. She turned and looked at Flint. His mouth was wide open, his eyes fixed on the trio in front of them.

'Flint!'

He didn't move; not a sign to indicate he'd heard her. The nymphs continued their song, their bodies pressed close, their red lips parted. Jessica concentrated, willing her mind to block out the enchantment. The dreadful sisters crept closer, opening their mouths wider to reveal their slick, pointed fangs.

Jessica was somehow still in possession of her senses. As the vampyres continued their approach, she decided her best tactic was to pretend to be as incapacitated as Flint. She stood stock still, staring straight ahead.

'Look, sisters!' said one of the vampyres, stopping her song. 'They are powerless before our beauty. And this one,' she said, looking at Jessica, 'is mine. I long to discover what she tastes of.'

Jessica risked a glance to her side. The other two creatures writhed towards Flint. One of them reached up and stroked his face, whilst the other ran her hands across his chest. He didn't react, hardly even appearing to breathe.

The vampyre's tongue darted out to lick her lips as she leaned close to Jessica's face. 'Divine,' she said. 'Such a pretty flower.' Jessica continued to stare straight ahead. 'Sisters, I demand first kill, as is my right as eldest.'

Jessica heard disappointed groans from her left. The creature's hands were upon her shoulders now, the fanged mouth close to Jessica's neck. With her eyes still fixed ahead, Jessica closed her fingers around the hilt of her sword. She tried not to shiver as she felt the vampyre's icy breath, waiting for the right moment.

And when the teeth pressed down upon her flesh, she waited no longer.

The vampyre's head whipped back as it let out a hideous wail. Jessica stepped back quickly, withdrawing her blade from the creature's side. The wound was not enough to kill it, of course, but it had broken the beast's grip.

And, as she started from the retort of the revolver, she realised it had obviously broken the enchantment as well. One of Flint's attackers thudded back into a row of mannequins, sending them toppling like ninepins. The creature was scrabbling at the smoking hole in its chest, directly above its heart. As Jessica watched, the vampyre disintegrated into dust.

Jessica's opponent had recovered and was glaring at her. It reached down to its side, then brought its hand back to its mouth. Jessica's stomach heaved as she watched the creature lick the sticky black blood from it fingers.

'Damn it Mary, don't jam on me now!' A click from Flint's revolver.

The second of his attackers screamed, a look of fury on its face. It spat, its saliva landing short and hissing on the wooden floorboards at Flint's feet.

It leapt towards him, fingers and teeth bared. At the same instant, the vampyre facing Jessica attacked.

Jessica glanced to her left, then whipped out the pistol from her jacket pocket.

A single shot; a single thrust with her blade. The first through the neck of Flint's attacker; the second piercing the throat of the vampyre bearing down upon her.

'Finish them, quickly!' Jessica sliced sideways with her sword, half-severing her foe's head. A gurgling shriek from the monster, then it collapsed to its knees. To her left, Flint's knife was already deep in the heart of the other fiend.

'Back to hell with you!' Flint staggered forward as the vampyre crumbled to dust.

Jessica turned to the remaining creature. Its hands groped at its ruined neck. Almost a mercy killing, thought Jessica, as she swung her sword in a shining arc.

Almost.

'Christ, Mary!' Flint knocked his revolver against his leg. 'Never do that again!' As if in response to his words, the chamber of his gun spun obediently. 'It's these bloody needle bullets of Cottingley's. They may be designed to pierce a vampyre's heart, but they keep jamming the mechanism!'

'The gunshot will have alerted them to our presence, William. I fear our troubles this evening have only just begun.'

'Trouble and I have always been easy bedfellows. Let's get this over with.'

Jessica wiped her blade on a nearby costume and pocketed her pistol. 'Agreed. Let us lower the curtain on this hellish masquerade for good.'

Beyond the room with the mannequins, another brick-walled corridor led deeper into the theatre. It ended in yet another door. Flint turned the handle, but it was locked.

Before Jessica could say anything, he lowered his revolver to the keyhole and pulled the trigger. The explosion echoed through the corridor.

'You said they would already have been alerted by my gunshot,' he said, kicking the door open. 'I didn't think another would make any difference.'

They stepped into the small room, empty apart from a ladder leading down into the darkness.

'To the crypt?'

'Most likely,' said Jessica. 'Come on.' She lifted the hem of her skirt and prepared to descend.

'Ma'am?' The faint voice rattled in her head.

'Atsu? Atsu, is that you?'

'Yes, ma'am.... please... please hurry.'

'Where are you Atsu?'

'I... I don't know, ma'am. It's dark. I'm lying down. I can't move, ma'am.'

'Are you hurt?'

'No, I don't think so. Just scared.'

'Don't worry, Atsu, we're coming for you.'

'Please... please hurry. I am finding it hard to breathe.'

'Stay calm, Atsu. Conserve your energy. We're close by.'

Silence. Then a scream which chilled Jessica's blood. 'Atsu? Atsu!'

There was no reply.

'What did she say?' Flint was at her side, his tone grim.

'I think she's in the crypt, William. And I fear they've decided she's not worth turning.'

'You mean...?'

Jessica didn't answer. She was already climbing down the ladder into the darkness.

__________

The ground was uneven; the walls hewn roughly from the earth. Jessica heard Flint land behind her.

'No time to waste,' she said. 'Load your revolver, Flint. They will be waiting for us.'

The tunnel sloped down. They hurried along it, no longer caring about being silent. The passageway turned to the right, then opened up into a large cavern.

'Oh good Lord.' Jessica stared, aghast.

The cavern was lit by dozens of flickering candles: thick, greasy stumps of wax which belched billowing black smoke. They cast a sickly light on the dreadful scene. Hanging from chains suspended from stalactites on the ceiling were six bodies. Men and women, naked. Dead.

Eaten.

'Sweet mother of God, those poor devils,' said Jessica. The bodies had dreadful wounds at their throats, blood dried on the edges of the deep gashes. Two of them had been eviscerated: though again, the mutilations did not appear fresh.

'Thank Christ. None of them are Atsu.' Despite Flint's previous bravado, his voice was unsteady. 'Where is she?'

'I think she was being held in one of those.' Jessica pointed to a row of coffins lined up against one wall. Their lids were sealed, bar one. It was empty.

'Where have they taken her?' Flint's voice was filling with anger.

'I don't think they kill their prey here, William. There is no blood beneath those bodies. I think they hang them here... to mature, like game.'

'Disgusting bastards. They must suffer for this, Jessica.'

'Much as I agree, William, we must remain focused. We must slay these fiends quickly in order to stand a chance of escape.'

A dragging sound from the shadows at the far end of the cavern. Jessica pressed a finger to her lips and crept forward. As the light from the candles receded, her eyes adjusted to the gloom. There, with one hand around an unconscious Atsu's neck, was Mephisto.

Or a creature which resembled him. His stage apparel had been cast off, his naked body covered with thick strands of matted hair. His face appeared to have elongated, his jaw distended in a bestial gape which revealed twin rows of jagged fangs. More animal than human, he did not react to Jessica and Flint approaching, his attention focused on his prey.

'Stay still, William,' Jessica whispered. 'In this form, they cannot be reasoned with.'

'Can they ever?' Jessica heard the click of Flint's pistol. The beast's eyes were black, his maw dripping saliva onto Atsu's exposed neck.

'Bullets will have no effect, William. This one must be dispatched in a more traditional manner.'

Jessica looked around the cavern. On the ceiling high above them, more stalactites hung down, tapering to jagged points. She nudged Flint and pointed up.

Flint nodded. Jessica inched forwards, stopping directly beneath one of the sharper-looking formations. Flint held up three fingers, then two, then one... then fired.

Mephisto spun round at the noise, his teeth bared. Atsu's body slumped to the ground as the vampyre readied itself to face this new threat.

Jessica caught the falling stalactite in her outstretched hand. 'This ends now,' she said, and drove the point straight into the beast's chest.

Mephisto's eyes widened as he stared down at the stone stake protruding from his heart. Then, with a guttural moan, the vampyre crumbled to dust.

'Atsu!' Jessica was at the girl's side. She was unconscious, but breathing. 'Atsu, thank God! We'll get you out of here, I promise!'

'Jessica!' Flint's voice sounded odd.

She whirled round. He was gazing at her helplessly as Salome sunk her fangs into his neck.

'William!'

Flint grimaced, the pain scarring across his face. Salome raised her head, her face covered in blood. She licked her lips, then dipped her mouth back to the wound on Flint's neck.

Jessica held out her sword, pointed at Salome's heart. The vampyre looked up again, her mouth a bloody sneer.

'You stupid bitch,' she said. 'You are too late. If it is any consolation, your friend tastes extremely good.' The vampyre bit deeper into Flint's torn flesh.

'Jessica...' Flint's revolver trembled in his hand.

'William... No.'

'I'm...sorry.' He raised the gun to the side of his head.

'No!'

'It's no use, Jessica.' He pressed the barrel to his temple and closed his eyes. Salome sucked greedily at the bloody mess of his neck.

'William...'

'Goodbye, Jessica.'

She forced herself to watch as Flint pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped straight through his skull.

Straight into Salome's face.

The vampyre screamed, her hands at her ruined eye socket. Jessica was beside her in an instant. She pushed the creature to the floor, pressing down on her neck with the sole of her boot.

Salome stared up at Jessica, hatred blazing from her remaining eye. Her mouth was covered in blood. Flint's blood. 'You will never defeat us,' she said. 'We are legion.'

Jessica said nothing. Instead she knelt down on the vampyre's chest, staring into Salome's face as she pushed the blade of her sword down hard onto her throat. The metal bit into the vampyre's cold skin: through artery, through bone, until it came to a stop against the hard rock of the cavern floor.

Jessica closed her eyes, feeling the vampyre's body disintegrate beneath her. She let go of the sword. Her tears fell, raising tiny clouds as they splashed into the dust.

'Ma'am...?' Atsu groaned. 'Where... where am I?'

Jessica rose, trying to avoid looking at Flint's body. Atsu was sitting up, rubbing her neck. Then she saw what remained of Flint and screamed.

Jessica placed her hands on Atsu's shoulders. 'Mr Flint... William... He gave us life for us, Atsu.'

'He is dead?' Atsu's hands were over her mouth, her eyes streaming.

Jessica pulled Atsu towards her. 'He died a hero, Atsu.'

They held each other, their sobs echoing through the empty cavern.

'Jesus, Mary and Joseph.'

Jessica turned slowly.

Flint was rubbing the side of his head with his palm. 'Now that bloody well hurt.'

She stared at him in disbelief. Flint's right eye watered as he touched the gaping wound at his throat.

His left eye was completely black.

__________

'William?'

Flint was slapping at his temple as if he had something stuck in his ear. The needle bullet had bored a hole straight through his head, but Jessica could see no trace of blood on either the entry or exit wound. Similarly, the gaping gash at his neck was dry, the ragged edges already congealed.

'William? Are you... alright?'

'I appear to be so, Jessica.' He tried to wink with his good eye. 'To be honest, I wasn't sure if that was going to work.'

Jessica realised her fists were clenched, her nails digging into her palms. 'You could have died, William!' She tried to balance the overwhelming sense of relief with the anger rising in her chest. 'I thought you had died!'

'I was as good as dead. I could feel it.' He nodded to the pile of ash beneath Jessica's feet. 'She was turning me, Jessica.'

'But you... ' Jessica stopped. She would have done the same thing had it been her. Death was preferable to becoming a vampyre.

'I had no choice.'

'And it has stopped? The turning?'

'I think so. I can feel my heartbeat. The cold is no longer spreading.' He shivered. 'Though I can still feel it, like ice.'

'But your head, William. You shot yourself through the head!'

'Low enough to miss my vitals,' he said, touching the hole beside his eyebrow. 'I reasoned that if I was turning into one of them, then perhaps the wound wouldn't kill me. And the needle bullet: it went straight through me.' He grinned lopsidedly. 'It was a gamble, I admit.'

'You need to be checked, William. There are doctors in the Department.'

'Doctors who would put me down like a rabid dog, Jessica. You know that.'

'Cottingley, then. Surely he'll be able to do something?'

'Perhaps. We shall see.'

'Talking of which, William. Your eye...it's...' She opened a pocket in her jacket and brought out her mirror, handing it to him. 'See for yourself.'

He popped open the case and brought the glass to his face, holding it there for some time.

'Well,' he said, 'it looks as though I had better get myself one of those tinted monocles all the toffs are wearing, doesn't it?'

'I am glad you are alive, Mr Flint.' Atsu's throat was bruised, but she seemed otherwise unharmed.

'Not half as glad as I am, lass. Come, let's check the rest of those coffins.'

One by one, they prised open the lids. Jessica fought back bile at the sight of the first corpse: little more than a mangled mess which it was hard to believe was once human. By way of contrast, the next body was untouched, save for a pair of fresh circular wounds in its neck. Jessica clenched her jaw and plunged her sword tip into the chest, watching as the body crumbled to dust.

In the third, lay the motionless form of a young girl, her red hair loose and spilling across her throat. Gingerly, Jessica moved the strands. Her neck was untouched, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

'Cathy? Cathy Frogg?'

The girl's eyes flickered, then widened in fear. She clutched at the sides of the coffin, her feet scrabbling at the wood.

'Be calm, Cathy. We are friends. Friends of your father's. You are safe now.'

She sat up, slowly shaking her head as if awakening from a dream. 'What happened?'

'Nothing you need try to remember,' said Flint. The girl recoiled at the sight of him.

'It's alright, Cathy. You are safe with us.' Jessica extended her hand. 'Come, let's get you home.'

They returned the way they had come. In the small room before the auditorium, Flint caught hold of Jessica's sleeve, pulling her back. Atsu continued on, leading Cathy determinedly by the hand.

'Jessica,' said Flint. 'I want you to promise me something.'

'Of course, William, if it is in my power to do so.'

'It is indeed.' He stared at her, his left eye black and lifeless. 'If I am wrong,' he said. 'If the turning has not stopped. I want you to do it, Jessica.'

'William...'

'Please, Jessica. Promise me. If I turn, I wish it to be you who finishes me.'

__________

The foyer had a different atmosphere now that it was empty. The crimson tones took on a far more sinister appearance, a reminder of those horrendous things which had taken place deep within the bowels of the theatre.

Jessica noticed Flint was shaking. 'We should hurry,' she said. 'We must return to the Zephyr as soon as possible.'

The foyer appeared to brighten. Jessica blinked.

It was no trick played by her tired eyes. The light came from the figure of The Great Infernus, standing in front of the exit.

'You scum.' His voice boiled with anger, as if it burned with the same fire which was blazing around his clenched fists. 'This place was my sanctuary. And it shall be your tomb.' The fire spread up his forearms, the flames curling around his muscled flesh. Cathy screamed, cowering behind Atsu. William was trying to aim his revolver, but his hands were trembling too much.

'You,' said Jessica, stepping forward, 'must get out of our way.' She could feel the heat on her face. The flames were engulfing his body now, covering his chest and abdomen. A blast of white-hot air buffeted her face as the efreet opened his mouth to laugh.

A laugh which extinguished in his throat as Jessica took Cottingley's phial of acid and threw it inside. The efreet let out a hissing noise, like steam escaping from an industrial device. Then he toppled backwards, his body a raging inferno of bright yellow flame. The fire spread across the deep pile of the carpet, licking up the walls and igniting the curtains.

'Let hell take the whole cursed place,' said Jessica, stepping over the burning corpse of The Great Infernus and pushing open the doors of the theatre.

As they walked down the street, not one of them looked back, not even for a moment.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Licking Their Wounds

'YOU'LL BE FINE.'

Cottingley stepped back, admiring his work. Jessica had to admit he'd done a good job. The brass plugs in Flint's head were barely noticeable, camouflaged by the resin the professor had applied. William's neck was another matter: criss-crossed with thick black stitches; though Cottingley had assured them the wound would heal in time.

'I'm not going to turn into a bloodsucker then?'

'Not if you take the medicine, Flint. Every day, mind, like I said.'

'I hope you have a plentiful supply, Cottingley.'

The professor ignored the comment, shining a small cigar-shaped light into Flint's black eye. 'And you are able to see through this as normal?'

Flint blinked. 'I am, thank the stars. If anything, I'm able to see even better. Especially in the dark.'

Cottingley took Flint's right wrist, pressing down with two fingers. 'Fascinating,' he said. 'No pulse at all!'

'How does this affect him, Professor?' Jessica was the only other person in the laboratory. Atsu was resting, whilst Tommy was showing Cathy the workings of the airship, despite the Zephyr's indignant protests.

'If my tests are correct, he will be able to lead a normal life. Here,' he said, handing Flint a small red pill and a glass of water, 'take this.'

Flint eyed the medicine then shrugged and popped it into his mouth. Cottingley strode round behind him.

'One final test,' said Cottingley, holding up a long silver scalpel.

Jessica's eyes widened. As Flint tilted back his head to drink the water, the Professor plunged the scalpel straight into the man's right arm. Flint didn't appear to notice.

'Just as I thought!' Cottingley withdrew the implement and inspected it. 'Not even a trace of blood. Remarkable.'

'What was that, Cottingley?' Flint lowered the glass.

'It would appear, Mr Flint, that you are impervious to injury.'

'You mean I can't be hurt?'

'So it would seem. Which explains how you survived shooting yourself. Though having your heart punctured or your head removed will kill you immediately, of course.'

Flint tapped himself on the side of his face. Then, gritting his teeth, he punched himself hard. 'You're right, Cottingley,' he said, massaging his jaw. 'Didn't feel a thing. Could come in useful, eh Jessica?'

'We have to make sure the Department doesn't find out. I doubt they will look too favourably on this development.'

'Does that mean I get out of those damn trips to Whitehall?'

Jessica laughed. 'Yes, William, it would appear you do. I shall report back to Appleton tomorrow, but shall take Atsu with me. I will inform anyone who asks that you are recovering from a minor injury.'

'Then I wish I'd been bitten months ago!' Flint put his shirt back on and stood up from the operating table. 'Now, if you don't mind, I think I shall go for a lie down.' He thumped himself in the chest, grinning.

Jessica waited until Flint had left, then turned to Cottingley. 'You are sure he will be alright?'

'As sure as I can be, my dear. He has the physical qualities of a vampyre, but not the appetite, if you get my meaning. Though the medicine is vital to ensure that does not develop.'

'And do we have enough?'

'A month's supply; maybe six weeks. I did not anticipate I would ever need it, otherwise I would have obtained more.'

'But it is easy to get, I trust?'

'Oh yes,' said Cottingley. 'Getting it is easy. Though I'm afraid getting it out again is the hard part.'

'What do you mean? Where did you get it, Professor?'

'It is made from dragonsbane, my dear. A rare species of fungus. The only known substance to keep vampyric tendencies in check. In enough quantity, I have heard, it can even reverse the process.'

'I asked you where you got it, not what it is.'

'Of course you did, I apologise.' Cottingley fidgeted with some apparatus on a metal trolley. 'I bought it from a trader in Smithfields. A bit of a cove he was, much like ourselves. I had to pay a fair old price for it too, given the trouble he had obtaining it. You see, it only grows in a very specific place, my dear. Draconic caves.'

Jessica's stomach lurched. 'You mean to tell me,' she said, 'that the only place we can obtain the medicine to stop Flint turning into a vampyre is in a dragon's lair?'

'Yes, that's about the size of it.'

'Damn it.' Jessica shook her head. 'I insist we keep this information between you and I, Professor. It would seem that whatever Appleton has planned for us next, we have a mission of our own we need to undertake.'

'Indeed,' said Cottingley. 'It's all rather exciting, don't you think?'

CHAPTER TWELVE

Leaving the Heart Behind

'ARE YOU ALRIGHT, ma'am?'

Jessica stifled another yawn as the carriage clattered over Westminster Bridge.

'I'm fine, Atsu. I didn't sleep too well. How are you feeling?'

'I am also fine, thank you. Though I slept like a big lump of wood!'

'That's good,' said Jessica, smiling. 'I was so worried about you, back in the theatre.'

'It was very frightening. Though I am grateful you and Mr Flint decided to rescue me.'

'Of course we did, Atsu. Whilst I am commander of the Diamonds, I will make sure nobody is left behind.'

'How is Mr Flint?'

'He is resting, Atsu.' Jessica thought it best not to tell her the truth. Let Flint explain it to the rest of the crew in his own time. Assuming, of course, that he was ever sober enough to speak again.

'Mr Frogg was so happy to see his daughter. That made me happy too.'

They had taken a diversion via Whitechapel. Frogg had been full of thanks, even offering them lodgings in his private rooms above the bar whenever they were in London. As they had said their farewells and returned towards the heart of the city, Jessica had seen the blackened ruins of the theatre, still smouldering.

'Yes,' she said. 'When we are able to rid the Empire of evil and also do some good into the bargain, that is what makes the job worthwhile.'

The carriage trundled to a stop. Atsu raised the hood of her cape as they alighted from the carriage, falling silent as they walked towards the steps of the Department.

'You have no need to be ashamed,' said Jessica. Atsu didn't reply, walking beneath the statue of the Queen above the entrance.

Jessica stared up at the stone visage of the sovereign. The Queen's face had been sculpted with a grim expression, no doubt intended to portray the iron grip in which she held the Empire and all its subjects.

Jessica sighed and followed the bowed figure of Atsu into the Department of Interior Security.

__________

'An excellent job! My congratulations to you and to your crew.' Appleton sliced off the tip of his cigar with an ornate silver cutter moulded into the shape of a tiger. 'Your success has been noted by my superiors, Jessica.'

'Thank you, Sir Humphrey. It was a dangerous mission.'

'And yet you emerged from it triumphant! The unveiling of the Memorial will be able to go ahead as planned. I'm sure the Queen would be most grateful for your efforts. Not that she'll ever get to hear of them, of course.'

'Of course not,' said Jessica, stirring her tea. 'So, Sir Humphrey, what do you have planned for us next? Demons? Golems?' She paused, trying not to sound too hopeful. 'Dragons?'

'None of those, my dear.' Appleton was surrounded by a wreath of pungent blue cigar smoke. 'Something a little less substantial, but no less important. There is a mansion in the Sussex countryside, Jessica. Priory Manor. Owned by an old army friend of mine, Major Thomas Carruthers, who also happens to be high up in the Foreign Office.'

'And what is troubling Major Carruthers, Sir Humphrey?'

'He informs me that he is being haunted, my dear. Now normally, as you know, that would be a case for the Bell, Book and Candle Division.' Appleton took another puff at his cigar, then frowned. 'But I'm afraid in this instance, things have taken a more sinister turn.'

'How so?'

'The ghost,' said Appleton, 'is of Major Carruthers himself.'

Even Atsu looked up in surprise. 'Is he sure?' said Jessica. 'He has seen this apparition with his own eyes?'

'Indeed he has, my dear. And I have no reason to doubt him. And therefore, of course, neither do you.' He smiled, but there was little humour in his voice.

'Of course not, Sir Humphrey. It is just so... unusual.'

'That is why I have asked for the Black Diamonds to investigate, my dear.'

'When do we leave?'

'First thing in the morning. I told Carruthers you would be with him by lunchtime. He has prepared a space in the grounds for the Zephyr to land and one of his staff will arrange for your navigator to receive directions.' He ignored Atsu as he spoke, still looking at Jessica.

'Very good, sir. Is that all?'

'For now, Jessica. Keep up the good work, eh?'

'We shall do our best, Sir Humphrey.' She stood, helping Atsu on with her cape. 'All of us.'

__________

'Marvellous,' said Cottingley. 'Sussex is so beautiful at this time of year.'

'What do you think is happening?' Tommy was trying not to stare at Flint. 'With the ghost, I mean?'

'I don't know.' Jessica passed the wine to Atsu. 'A doppelganger, perhaps. Maybe even a minor demon.'

'I'm just glad to be getting out of London. I have enough souvenirs to remind me of my visit for quite some time.' Flint adjusted his black-tinted monocle. 'And I see you've been influenced by our visit too, Jessica. Very fetching, if I may be so bold.'

Jessica adjusted the top of her corset. It still felt strange, though she had to admit the crimson leather garment was rather striking.

'I am just glad we all got through another mission,' she said, glancing at Flint. 'Long may that continue to be the case.'

'Hear hear,' said Cottingley, raising his drink. 'To the Empire, and to Queen Victoria the Second!'

'Bugger that,' said Flint, taking a swig straight from the bottle. 'Here's to The Black Diamonds.'

Jessica drained her glass and smiled.

'I hope that also includes me?' said the Zephyr, making an indignant clanking noise.

The sound of her crew's laughter warmed Jessica's spirit more than the wine.

__________

The morning air was cold. As the Zephyr rose from the aerodrome, Jessica pulled the collar of her jacket round her neck and turned the wheel.

'A short trip, at least.' Flint stared down as London sank into the murk of a dirty fog beneath them.

'How are you feeling, William? Really?'

'I'm not sure, to be honest. Time will tell. But that's a worry for another day, Jessica.'

She looked down at the map, adjusting the wheel until the route marker turned white. 'Indeed it is, William. I am glad you are alive.'

'As am I, Jessica. And don't worry, I'll not be breaking into your cabin at night. Not to bite your throat out, at least.'

Jessica clicked her tongue and turned towards the prow as the Zephyr gathered speed. The countryside ahead of them was green, unblemished by the marks of industry.

Flint began to whistle: one of his shanties from the Caribbean.

Jessica stared ahead.

It must be the cold making my eyes sting so much, she thought.

What else could it be?

Lady Jessica: Monster Hunter

Thank you for purchasing and supporting my work. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review wherever you bought the book.

If you think any of your friends, family or minor acquaintances might enjoy a fast-paced slice of high camp steampunk melodrama with vampyres in it, please feel free to point them in my direction.

Lady Jessica will return in Episode 2: Troubling Times

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Thanks again,

Keith

GOD SAVE THE EMPIRE!

