His Clockwork Canary

icon. I knew it was volatile, maybe valuable, but I never guessed it was the compendium. Now give it to me and be on your way before my employer intercedes and takes a shine to you. He happens to like pretty young things.”

Reminded of her present mission, Willie scrambled to focus. She envisioned her brother and the pirate escaping under this suffocating cloak of supernatural fog and taking the ACC and Strangelove with them. In order for Gentry’s plan to succeed, he had to be able to see the Flying Shark. In order for her and Simon to move on, they had to put Strangelove behind them.

She needed to break the fog, and that meant breaking Wesley’s concentration.

“Mom never told us what it was that she was protecting,” she prodded. “How did you know it was from the twentieth century?”

“Because I followed her one day and overheard her talking to two other Peace Rebels. Because I cornered her later and told her we should sell whatever it was, make a fortune, and if she didn’t, I would. I’d find a way.”

“My God, Wesley! You’re the traitor!”

“Matter of perception, although I guess that’s how she saw it. Our tiff rattled her enough to consume her thoughts. She walked in front of that automocoach and my plan died with her. Those other two PRs disappeared with the stash, Dad went bonkers, and we were left high and dry. I tried tracking those Mods for over a year before giving up and making my fortune my own damned way.”

Shocked and sickened, Willie squeezed back tears. “How can we possibly be related?”

“Something I asked myself the day you took on the mundane job of a pressman.” Stone-faced, her brother pushed off the lamp pole. “Give me the bloody ACC.”

“Go to hell.”

He reached for her and she swung out with her injured right arm. The Thera-Steam-Atic Brace offered strength and her smack landed hard, knocking Wesley into the pedestrian wall.

Her brother roared and the fog diminished by half. Lightning cracked, illuminating the hazy night sky, and there it was, hovering over the Thames—the Flying Shark!

Willie heard the scraping of an iron grate and she knew it was Simon, beneath the bridge. She knew he’d heard enough and that he was coming to her rescue, only the fog started to thicken as Wesley shook off her blow. She dipped into her pocket, slipping her fingers through Reginald Darcy’s invention just as Wesley charged. Her swift uppercut connected with his chin with a loud ZAP!

Hair smoking, he literally sailed through the air, plowing once again into the bridge’s wall, only this time the force sent him toppling over.

Willie lunged, catching his arm before he plummeted into the dark, wintry river. Deadweight. The Knuckle Shocker had stunned the marbles out of her brother and if she lost her grip, her brother was fish bait. Thank God for her enhanced strength via Simon’s brace.

“Let me help.” Simon was there beside her, reaching down, grasping her brother’s arm.

Willie heard horse hooves clopping against the pavement. She glanced over and saw the Sky Cowboy galloping toward them on a black steed. She could see him clearly. No fog!

She heard an explosion and looked up to see the Flying Shark’s zeppelin in flames and the Maverick flying out from behind Clock Tower, cannons blasting.

Her muscles screamed as she held tight to Wesley whilst Simon tried to haul him up.

Wesley stirred and suddenly he was pointing a gun at Willie with his free hand.

She was trying to save his wretched arse and he wanted to kill her?

He spared Simon a glance, then looked back on Willie. “You’re a traitor to Freaks, Mina.”

“You’re a traitor to mankind,” Simon said, swinging the Remington Blaster over the wall and taking aim. “Drop your peashooter into the drink, Wesley.”

“I have a better idea, Darcy.” He jerked out of Willie’s grasp and plunged, gun and all, through the dark, through the air, into a watery grave.

Willie’s heart jerked as she heard the splash. At once a raging whirlpool erupted, blasting them with icy water before fizzling into snowflakes. “Oh, God.” Willie collapsed against Simon just as Gentry reined in.

“We good here?” the cowboy asked, flicking his gaze to the air skirmish.

“Willie’s in my care, as is the compendium,” Simon said. “You see to Strangelove.”

“One way or another,” he promised. “Don’t worry about Amelia or the engine. Meet you back at the ranch, Darcys.” He tugged at the brim of his Stetson, then kicked the horse into a dead run.

Willie turned just as feathered wings appeared and the horse and rider took flight.

Simon leaned forward, squinting into the dark. “Did I just see what I thought I saw?”

“Astonishing,” Willie said, her night vision enabling her to watch as the Sky Cowboy navigated some sort of Pegasus into the ensuing sky battle.

“No wonder my sister’s smitten with the man. He owns a flying horse. Blimey.”

Emotions churning, Willie leaned into Simon. “I tried to save him. Wesley.”

“Yes, you did. We both did. He made his choice, Willie. Not you.”

“That’s just it. He was too selfish to choose death.” She glanced toward the Thames. “I’m not sure that he perished, Simon. I cannot explain, but I don’t feel as though Wesley’s gone.”

“Just as I would know if Jules was no more. I understand.” He held her close, kissed the top of her head. “If he comes back into our life, we’ll tackle that obstacle together.”

She looked up at him and forced a small, brave smile. “Everything will work out.”

“Yes, it will.” He brushed a kiss over her mouth and she felt her world settling into something good and right. “Ready to go home?” he asked.

“Not quite yet,” she said, smiling into his eyes. “I have an adventure to pen and I haven’t seen the end of the story yet.”

Huddled together against the wintry mix, they gazed up into the dazzling night as the Sky Cowboy tussled midair with the Scottish Shark of the Skies.

“I do hope Phin doesn’t steal all of Gentry’s glory,” Willie said as their friend roared by on some sort of kite flying contraption.

Simon winked down at her. “I hope he does.”

EPILOGUE

ONE WEEK LATER . . . MCSTEAM’S COFFEEHOUSE

“How did it go?”

“Surprisingly well.”

“It could have gone better.”

Simon squeezed his wife’s hand, then held out her chair as she sat across a table from Phin. “Willie’s disappointed because the queen refused to recognize our marriage.”

Phin snuffed his cigar and regarded Willie with a furrowed brow. “You thought she’d overturn a long- standing law just for you.”

“No, not just for me. For all Freaks.”

“We live in a country where people are still frowned upon or penalized for marrying outside of their social class,” Phin said. “The kind of change you’re suggesting won’t happen overnight.”

“I realize that,” Willie said. “I was just . . . hoping. Part and parcel of my new optimistic attitude.”

Simon smiled whilst signaling the server for two more coffees. “At least she didn’t ban you from the room.”

“Aye,” Willie said as she removed her derby and smoothed her hair. “Although Queen Victoria was wary of my race and the powers we possess, I confess she was most tolerant. And, in the end, somewhat reasonable, although I wish she were more so.”

“I must say, I’m impressed that Gentry was able to arrange a private audience for you,” Phin said. “Although