Page 17 of Kiss of Steele (The Royal Occult Bureau #9)

SEVENTEEN

IF THE ENGINE room smelled of oil and coal dust, the cargo hold smelled like a pair of socks after a four-hour ride.

All sorts of supplies were stored in the belly of the ship, from kitchen provisions to passengers’ items too big to be kept in the cabin. If my theory was correct, the lamia should be nestled here. The last time we’d been searching the cargo hold, Rennie’s chin had been perfectly shaven. If the lamia had seen him and copied his style, then it meant its nest should be around. Yes, it was a deuced feeble thread, but I didn’t have any other ideas.

Rennie walked in front of me on the balls of his feet to be quiet. He needn’t have bothered though. Noises rumbled in the packed space. There were metallic groans that made me worry the ship was going to be split in half, and dull thuds, like air pressed inside a pipe. I jolted every time steam hissed from a valve. Our oil lamps were the only source of light. I released a breath when we arrived at a silent portion of the hold, my ears throbbing from their previous misuse.

“We’ve checked this place quite a few times,” Rennie said. “I’m not sure we’ll find anything.”

“We’ve checked the entire ship quite a few times. Yet the lamia must be somewhere.”

“Fair point, Miss Fitzwilliam.”

“Thank you, Lawrence.”

He flashed me a cheeky grin that, in better circumstances, would have distracted me. After an hour of creeping along narrow passages and smelling buckets of onions, my morale wasn’t so optimistic any longer. Perhaps my idea was nonsense. I plonked down onto a wooden crate filled with potatoes, according to the label.

“I’m ready to admit defeat,” I said, throwing a hand up.

Sighing, Rennie sat next to me. “It was worth a try.”

As we remained silent, a soft, chirping noise reached my ears. I gazed around.

“Are there birds trapped down here? Poor things.” I rose and focused on the muffled noise.

“Birds? I don’t hear anything.”

“Shush.” I tilted my head.

The chirping came from my left where piles of fruit were stacked. I went to rush in that direction, but Rennie grabbed my arm.

“Wait,” he said.

“What?”

“What if it’s a trick of the lamia?”

A sudden chill crawled up my neck. “Let’s have a look,” I said.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

The chirping came again, sad and painful, as if the beasts were desperate or hungry.

“Just a peek.” I shrugged free and tiptoed closer to the noise.

It took a bit of rummaging through mysterious boxes and crates of dried fruit before I found it. It was a nest. It emitted a faint white glow and was made from pieces of straw. Inside it, there were the most adorable, fluffy creatures I’d ever seen, something between a white kitten and a tiny bunny. Large blue eyes stared up at me. Pink button noses sniffed the air, and rounded ears twitched. Tiny paws clawed the air.

“Oh, my goodness.” My heart melted at the sight of those little balls of fur. There were five of them. “What are they?”

“Bloody hell.” Rennie scratched the back of his neck. “They look like bloody kittens.”

“They’re so cute.”

Footsteps padded behind us. We both spun around. The lamia, in the form of Rennie’s hideous tutor, walked towards us, its nostrils flaring and its eyes turning fully black.

“Do not touch them,” it hissed.

Rennie’s hand slipped under his jacket where his gun was sheathed. A lump swelled in my throat at the thought of harming those lovely darlings.

I held up my hands. “We don’t want to hurt them.”

“They might be lovely now, but they will grow into killers,” Rennie said.

“I do not kill.” The lamia’s upper lip curled in a snarl, showing sharp teeth.

“You killed Mrs Francis.” Rennie’s gun made an appearance. “We never found her body because you destroyed it.”

The lamia’s body shivered, his features blurring before returning sharp. “She died because of a seizure. She wanted to be alone with her Scottish lover. I feed on people’s dreams and fears, not on their flesh. But the lovemaking was too much for her, and she died. I merely destroyed her body.”

I put a hand on Rennie’s arm before he cocked the hammer. “And why do you follow me?” I asked the lamia.

Its body morphed into Rennie’s when I stared at its eyes. Now that I noticed them, they were a darker shade of green than my Rennie’s. “You’ve been bitten by an earth eel and survived. Not many humans can say that.”

Even the voice was identical to Rennie’s.

“What does that mean?” I asked, intrigued.

“Your dreams are the best food for my babies because your emotions are strong.” Its gaze flickered towards the white bunnies. “Don’t hurt them.” There was a desperate note now in its voice, and the fact it looked and sounded like Rennie made my chest constrict with sorrow.

“The bureau has evidence lamiae have killed humans,” Rennie insisted.

Lamia-Rennie shook its head. “Natural deaths. I told you I don’t eat flesh. I feed on dreams, bad and good, the more vivid, the better. The human must be alive for me to feed.”

“I believe it,” I said.

“Monia,” Rennie started, and I didn’t like how he said my name, as if I were being unreasonable. “Unnaturals can’t be trusted, especially when they have babies to protect.”

“Babies? My word, now, that’s something interesting.” Oliver stepped into our suddenly busy little space.

The lamia hissed and changed into a beautiful woman with long, wavy red hair. Oliver’s past lover, perhaps? His mother? Whoever she was, he paled, his jaw twitching.

“You’re an agent, Rennie,” he said. “Your duty is to catch this Unnatural and its babies.”

Rennie pointed his gun at Oliver. “Trafficking Unnaturals is against the law.”

“You’re right.” Oliver took another step closer. “Then shoot the lamia and kill those babies. Be brave and do it.”

A gasp remained trapped in my mouth. I gave Rennie a pleading glance. If the lamia had told the truth, it was innocent, and its babies shouldn’t be killed. Non-threatening Unnaturals should be protected rather than killed. The tendons in Rennie’s neck throbbed as he kept his gun trained on Oliver.

“I’m arresting and reporting you to the bureau for document forgery and trafficking Unnaturals.” He shifted to shield the babies from Oliver’s angry sight. “And no one is going to hurt those furry babies.”

At his words, something warm burst within my chest and spread through my body. I already knew he was a kind, honourable man, but at that moment, watching him ready to protect those little creatures, all my affection for him flared. I wanted to hug him and kiss him until we were both breathless. I wanted to tell him how much I cared about him. I wanted to be with him forever.

“Don’t worry, Rennie, Monia,” Oliver said. “I will tell your families how tragically the lamia attacked and killed both of you.”

As I was lost in my sweet thoughts about Rennie being a caring and loving man, Oliver lunged. Rennie fell backwards. The noise of a shot ricocheted off the walls. I jolted back. The kittens-bunnies gave a terrified squeal, and the lamia rushed towards them. It dispensed with the human form and turned into a white ball of fur, beautiful and fluffy just like the babies, only bigger. It was a pitiful sight, the terrified Unnatural curled around its babies, shivering with its pupils dilated and hissing in fear.

I wouldn’t stay here and do nothing. So I jumped on Oliver’s back and grabbed his neck and... if I was being honest, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next. Instinct was guiding me, which, admittedly, might not be a clever thing. But I’d never been trained to fight. I was a champion at needlework, though. No one could embroider a quilt faster than I could. I’d actually won a cross-stitching competition. And I wasn’t bad on a horse either as long as the horse was good-natured, the weather fine, and the path easy.

Oliver grunted in annoyance when I squeezed my arms hard around his neck. Beneath him, Rennie was struggling to free himself from Oliver’s grip. I squeezed harder, feeling the roped muscles in Oliver’s neck tensing. Another bullet swished past me, startling me and causing me to release my grip.

Pain hit my chest. Something warm, sticky, and red trickled down my body. Sheer fear chilled me to the bones. I’d been shot. With a push, Rennie shoved Oliver, who fell to the floor, and rushed towards me. His green eyes were wide with worry as he crouched next to me.

“Re-Rennie,” I croaked out, pressing my hand against my chest. “I’m dying.”

“But—”

“I don’t think I have much time.” My voice sounded rasping, but I had to talk. “I love you.”

His mouth dropped open as he held my hand. “Monia.”

I let out a long exhalation, burning pain bothering my throat. “I can die now. I just had to tell you how I feel. Please, remember me, my love. I would’ve loved you forever. You’re the best man I’ve ever met. There. Now I can leave you.”

He chuckled, which I didn’t like because I wanted my predicament to be taken seriously. I was dying, for Pete’s sake, and trying to make the most of my last moments on Earth. I glowered, which made him laugh harder. Honestly.

“It’s not blood, sweetheart. A jar of tomato sauce crashed, and the contents dropped on you.” He caressed my cheek, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. “Oliver was hit, not you. He grabbed the gun, but then he fell on top of it, shooting himself.”

“Oh.” I touched my chest and glanced down at the bright red stain. Admittedly, the smell should have made me think. “Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“I feel pain in my chest.”

“Because the jar hit you.”

“Well.” I tipped my chin up, gathering all the dignity I could muster. “I guess I’m all right then.”

He bent over me and kissed my lips. “And I love you, too.”