Iron Cast(71)

She remembered his reaction when he’d found out about her wealthy upbringing. She’d seen the disgust all over his face, however much he’d denied it.

You know a lot less about me than you think you do.

The three of them and Silas were the last ones up the ladder at the end. Corinne could see the silver of moonlight overhead and feel the icy breeze on her face. She took the rungs two at a time. Someone at the top took her hands and pulled her free. She swallowed a gulp of fresh air, and then a hand clamped over her mouth.

She bit down, tasting salty skin and then blood. There was cursing in her ear, and the hand dropped. She cried a warning, but it was in vain. Gabriel and Ada were already being dragged out of the manhole and cuffed. Now that her eyes were adjusting, she could see that they were surrounded by black police cars and several wagons that were being loaded with the other detainees.

Other than calmly asking for his lawyer, Silas didn’t say anything as they apprehended him. He shot Ada and Corinne a glare as he passed, which clearly indicated he thought they were to blame. When the cuffs clasped onto Corinne’s wrists, she could feel the iron in the steel, a dull pain that slithered up her arms and into her head. She thought she might be sick.

“Please,” she said to the officer behind her. “No cuffs.”

He ignored her and grabbed her chin, forcing her jaw open. Before she could struggle, another cop had shoved a flat metal plate into her mouth. There were leather straps that cinched behind her head, so tight that the plate pressed against the back of her tongue. It worked like a depressor—or a bit. Crude, but effective in preventing hemopaths from talking or singing. Corinne had to concentrate on breathing through her nose to keep from gagging. The cold steel on her tongue was almost unbearable.

Her knees weakened, but she kept her feet as they searched her pockets, removing her grandfather’s watch. She didn’t even have the strength to protest. The world was spiraling in her vision, and she couldn’t focus on anything until a man in a suit stepped in front of her. He was shorter than average, and his smile puckered the corners of his round cheeks.

“It’s a privilege to finally meet you,” he said. His voice was warm and pleasant, completely at odds with the madness unfurling around him.

Something brushed Corinne’s arm, and she looked to her right into Ada’s eyes, where she saw her same pain and disorientation reflected. The man who had deposited Ada beside her was also in a suit. He was much taller than his partner, with a large square jaw and not a hint of warmth about him.

“The two perpetrators of the Bengali banker,” said the shorter one. “What a catch. You know the odds were five to one against that we would ever find you.”

Corinne shuddered with another wave of nausea and stared at the two HPA agents without blinking. She couldn’t figure out how they’d known to find them here. She couldn’t figure out much of anything through her blinding headache.

“I’m Agent Wilkey,” he said, then gestured at his massive counterpart. “My partner, Agent Pierce, and I will be your escorts this evening. I believe you are both already acquainted with Haversham Asylum for Afflictions of the Blood.”

“This time around, you’ll find the accommodations to be less . . . comfortable,” Agent Pierce said, his flinty blue gaze resting on Ada.

Corinne pressed her arm against Ada’s, trying to reassure her somehow, even though she couldn’t think how they would find their way out of this. The police wagons were starting to pull away. Corinne caught sight of Gabriel standing at the rear of one, his hands cuffed behind his back. His eyes met hers, and his expression shifted from hard composure to something softer and more vulnerable. A policeman pressed an iron rod against his neck. Gabriel didn’t flinch, and he didn’t break from her gaze. They pushed him into a different police car, and then he was gone.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN



The ride to Haversham was longer than Ada remembered. She imagined she could feel every droplet of blood in her body, writhing in protest to the iron of the car, to the steel in her mouth. Everything was a blinding, pulsing blur as the car jolted through the city. The lights outside the window streaked past her vision like paint on canvas. Distantly, she registered that it had begun to sleet.

Agents Pierce and Wilkey spoke occasionally in the front seat, but never to her and Corinne. Pierce was driving, and every once in a while Ada would see his eyes in the mirror. There was an utter dispassion in them that frightened her. She closed her own eyes and didn’t open them until she felt the jolt of pain as they passed through the iron gates of Haversham. The car shuddered to a stop, and Agent Pierce half dragged her out of the car. She craned her neck to keep sight of Corinne, who was solidly in Wilkey’s grasp. Panic at the thought of being separated rose in her chest.

The agents led them into the linoleum-tiled front lobby. The familiar sharp scent of antiseptic met Ada’s nose. Behind the front desk the same nurse from the night of Ada’s escape peered at them through the reading glasses perched on her nose. She moved the spectacles to her head, and scorn twisted her features.

“I almost lost my job because of these two,” she said.

“Fortunately for you,” said Wilkey, “these two have taken a lot more than that—and from much more important people.”

Pierce laughed. It was an unpleasant sound.