His Clockwork Canary

Out of nowhere Willie moved in, rainbow eyes swirling with fury. “Step off, you overbearing sod.”

“And if I don’t?”

Willie clipped him with her stun cuff and the big man wilted like a rain-deprived flower.

Amelia squealed, outraged. “What the . . . who the devil are you?”

Willie squared her shoulders. “Your brother’s wife.”

Simon appreciated Willie’s staunch proclamation, although her penchant to save him in risky circumstances battered his male pride.

Amelia whirled and nailed Simon with a look of astonishment.

Gentry studied Willie, then rubbed his jaw whilst peering down at his odious cohort. “Zapped by a Freak. Axel’s gonna be fit to be tied when he rouses.”

“In that case,” Phin said, calmly stepping in, “perhaps we should sort this out in private.”

Amelia whirled again. “Phin?”

Gentry’s eyes narrowed. “Phineas Bourdain?”

Phin raised one brow. “You know of me?”

Gentry responded by knocking Phin off his feet with a wicked roundhouse.

“Bloody hell,” Simon said to his sister. “You told your husband Phin stole a kiss?”

She gave an innocent shrug. “He wasn’t my husband at the time.”

CHAPTER 34

After much hullabaloo, the proprietor of Java Jupiter had shown the vexatious rabble-rousers, as he called them, to a private salon at the rear of the small coffeehouse. Though Willie longed to sort through this family mess, she was immensely concerned with the time. According to her time cuff it was half past eight. Shouldn’t she be making her way to the USS Enterprise?

Tucker Gentry’s crew—StarMan, Eli Boone, and Birdman Chang—had remained in the main room trying to rouse their boneheaded mate, the ship’s engineer, Axel O’Donnell. Phin had been shut out of this meeting as well and was currently nursing his bruised jaw and pride with a shot of whiskey.

Seated across from Amelia in an upholstered booth, Willie tried to focus on her sister-in-law’s (good God, she had never thought to have a sister) animated rambling regarding her exploits over the last two weeks. Against her brothers’ wishes she had joined the Triple R Tourney, taking off on something called a kitecycle and nearly crashing into the Maverick midair. She’d lassoed the Sky Cowboy into her search for a legendary invention, their adventure had taken them to France, then on to Italy and then, following an international incident, back to England—their penance doled out by none other than Queen Victoria.

“And that is how we came to be wed,” Amelia said matter-of-factly.

“By royal decree.” Simon drummed his fingers on the table, his expression somewhere between astounded and explosive.

“She would have married me regardless, Darcy. Eventually,” Gentry said. “We’re very much in love.”

“Astonishing, but true,” Amelia said with a smitten smile. She leaned into her husband and the handsome crack aviator wrapped his arm about her in a possessive manner that warmed Willie’s heart.

Simon, on the other hand, looked as if he wanted to strangle the both of them. Bad enough his little sister had married a notorious rake and purported outlaw, but they’d embarked on a spectacular adventure that dazzled and shocked far more than anything Simon and Willie had experienced in their venture thus far. At least in Willie’s eyes. It was just the kind of story that would rivet the readers of the Informer, and indeed, Willie was considering asking the Gentrys’ permission to weave their adventure into her chronicled serial. Although she’d probably opt to temper the portion about the Maverick’s physician, a Freak named Doc Blue, who’d betrayed them in support of his brother, a volatile Freak Fighter. As if the Freaks needed more bad press.

She glanced at her time cuff, deeming the serial a subject best approached later. She shifted in her seat, eyed the door.

“Are we keeping you from something?” Amelia asked, brow raised.

“As it happens, I have an appointment.”

Simon consulted his own watch. “Willie’s right. We should go.”

Amelia gawked. “Surely you jest! I explained my circumstances and now you think to leave me dangling regarding yours? You claim to be married, yet how can this be, Simon? Marriage between Vics and Freaks is forbidden!”

“Yes, well, sometimes one is inclined to thwart the law,” he said, looking directly at Gentry.

“I told you,” Amelia said. “Tucker is innocent. Queen Victoria believes him.”

“As do I,” Willie said as she slid from her seat.

“You seem familiar to me, Mrs. Darcy,” Gentry said as he, too, stood. “Have we met before?”

“Please call me Willie. And, aye, we have met. I interviewed you once.” Her cheeks burned with the past deception. Her male guise, her probing of the cowboy’s memories without his permission. “You knew me as the Clockwork Canary.”

Gentry merely angled his head as though absorbing and reconciling the Freak woman he saw before him with the so-called Vic male who’d written a story about him months before.

Amelia, however, took a menacing step forward, fists balled at her side. “The Clockwork Canary? Lead journalist for the Informer? The insensitive sensationalist who maligned my father?”

“I can explain.”

Amelia launched forward like a human cannonball.

Willie swore she felt the brush of the woman’s knuckles as her fist swung past her nose. The only reason the blow didn’t land was that Gentry had caught her by the waist and hauled her back in the nick of time.

“Easy, Flygirl.”

“Dammit, Amelia.” Finessing Willie behind him, Simon dragged his hands through his already disheveled hair. “I can explain. We can explain all of this. But not now. Willie has an appointment with a man who’s going to relay the location of the clockwork propulsion engine.”

Still holding tight to his wife, Gentry tipped back his hat. “The time-traveling engine from the Briscoe Bus? It was destroyed—”

“No, it wasn’t,” Willie said. “That was a ruse concocted by a renegade trio of Peace Rebels. One of them being my mother. As Simon said, we can explain, but . . .” She glanced at her time cuff.

Simon checked the safety mechanism on his derringer.

Amelia palmed her forehead. “What in the devil are you doing with a Disrupter 29?”

“Making a point if need be,” Simon said.

“But that’s an advanced weapon and you’ve never even used a slingshot!”

“Aim. Fire. Think I can handle it.”

“Why do you need a gun?” Gentry asked as Simon pocketed the pistol.

“Because twelve days ago the people we’re dealing with didn’t think twice about o’blasterating my wife. Willie was severely wounded trying to protect me,” Simon said specifically to his sister. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone harm her again.”

Amelia blinked at Willie with shock and perhaps a smidgen of gratitude.

“I promise, we’ll explain at length later,” Willie said, pushing out of the salon and into the crush of the rollicking coffeehouse.

“Where are you meeting this yahoo?” Gentry asked.

“USS Enterprise,” Simon said. “The Vulcan Grogshop. The contact is wary of me, so I can’t be seen. Phin’s going inside with Willie. That’s if his wits are about him.”

Phin pushed away from the bar and a bottle of whiskey. “My jaw’s sore,” Phin said, whilst scowling at Gentry. “But my wits are fine.” He checked his holstered weapon. “Let’s do this.”