London Darkness: Infernal Inventions by Christopher Stocking

Author:Christopher Stocking [Stocking, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Steampunk, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Adventure
ISBN: 9781477631676
Google: jx5pLwEACAAJ
Amazon: B008BO5S68
Goodreads: 14287822
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2012-05-31T12:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Ryker and Wendell entered the League lobby. It was vacant, but the trap door was open. They descended into the lounge, and then entered Shamus’s lab where they all sat around his table and chatted casually.

“Our problem may be bigger than we originally thought,” Ryker said as he walked through the door. He glanced at Celia. Sadness was still present on her face.

“So, tell me my sister is a murderer,” Celia snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

“Well, she actually may be,” Ryker answered.

Celia stared at him for a moment. Rage overtook her face and she stood up and walked to the back of the lab. She pounded a powerful fist on the counter and turned back around with a sigh. “I know,” she said quietly.

Everyone stared at her and Wendell’s mouth hung open. “What do you mean you know?” Ryker questioned. There was a hint of anger in his tone. “You know your sister is a murderer?”

“Well, now I know for sure,” she answered. “Victoria—”

“Victoria is dead,” Wendell interrupted irritably.

Celia glared at him. “Ishbelza,” she corrected. “I don’t know what happened to her when she disappeared, but something definitely changed in her. She had developed a fascination for death and dying. She always smiled whenever it was brought up, and she always watched from the back of the crowd at a hanging.

“She told me she loved the smell and reveled in the fragrance of death. I just didn’t want to believe that my little sister would end up as a murderer.”

The redness was beginning to drain from Wendell’s face as his anger was replaced with sympathy for Celia.

“Unfortunately, there’s more to it than that,” Ryker said.

“What do you mean?” Shamus asked. He had taken his revolver off of his mechanical arm and replaced it with the mechanical hand. He appeared to be making some modifications to the gun.

“Ishbelza, Clive, and Caroline appear to be part of an order known as Partum Chaos.”

Shamus looked up from his work. “That’s Latin for creating chaos,” he said. “But, I’ve never heard of them before.”

“They must be very secretive,” Livvy said.

“Or very new,” Ryker replied. “Crime organizations like to make themselves somewhat known so they can accrue fame, instill fear, and create a following. If none of us have heard of Partum Chaos, maybe they’re a new crime organization.”

“Excuse me, Creator Shamus,” a new voice said from the doorway.

“What is it, Mills?” Shamus asked.

“I need you to take a look at something for me. It’s of vital importance.”

“I’m a little busy. Can it wait?”

“No, sir,” the inventor answered.

Ryker looked at the inventor. He noticed the inventor’s right hand twitched every four to five seconds. Once, he thought he saw the inventor grab onto the handle of the small pistol at his side.

“Fine,” Shamus answered, annoyed. He dropped his tool and followed the creator out of the lab and up into the lobby.

“What do you suppose he needs?” Wendell asked.

“I’m not sure,” Livvy answered. “Hopefully it’s nothing that could put us in danger.

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