Come With Me

“Ah, yes, Dr. Wilde, at last we meet.”

I strained against my bonds but they held fast.

“You won’t get away with this, you villain.”

He merely laughed.

“But I will,” he said. “You see, Doctor, I have your pretty accomplice, too.”

I bit off a curse as a cadre of those insidious clockwork spiders pushed Penelope forward. Her hands were secured behind her back and she was stripped of her rifle.

Damn. She was my only back up. Should have known better than to trust a girl. “Whatever you do,” I had said, “stay hidden. Don’t let them know you’re there until you have to shoot.” Fat lot of good her supposed marksmanship did me now.
My stare could have bored a hole in her forehead but she refused to look at me. Instead, she glared daggers at Lord Malice.

Lord Malice laughed again, clearly delighted with our distress.

“Now," he lowered his gaze to me, "tell me how much you know of my plans.”

I shifted my glare back to the man, the embodiment of evil, the man responsible for the ruin of dozens of wealthy and powerful men, including my own father. Over the weeks of my investigation, the plot had emerged, a plot to discredit men and confiscate their fortunes and land-holdings in order to take control of the country. Only yesterday, the mastermind of the plot had been revealed: Lord Malvert Malice. His guilt was undeniable, my proof rock solid, and so, through a series of back alley connections, I had followed his trail into his underground lair.

My one mistake had been to visit Mrs. Godwin’s School for the Education of Girls in Charm, Deportment, and Lady-like Accomplishments, a school which secretly hand-picked certain pupils with promising talents and also trained them in hand-to-hand combat, marksmanship, fencing, and a variety of other useful and un-ladylike accomplishments. My friends in the foreign office often used these young ladies and so I went, and, on the recommendation of Mrs. Godwin, hired Miss Penelope Hammersmith, best known at Mrs. Godwin’s establishment for her marksmanship and feather-light soufflé. Why choose a young lady as my back up? Well, soufflé aside, her marksmanship was remarkable, as I saw for myself. The most compelling reason, though was that her services were far cheaper than a male marksman. And as she was no more than passably pretty, despite blonde hair and blue eyes, I felt safe from any distractions.

This one mistake, though, had cost me far more than the 50 gilders Mrs. Godwin had so eagerly accepted.

Lord Malice raised an eyebrow. “You refuse?” He pressed a button on the massive control panel in the center of the room, a gigantic, echoing underground cavern.

Immediately, more of his clockwork minions emerged from somewhere behind me and scrambled over the rocky floor toward Penelope.

I could see the effort it cost her to keep her lips from trembling as four of the creatures clambered up her trousers and blouse and positioned themselves on her shoulders.

I glanced at Lord Malice and saw excitement gleam in his eyes.

At a small whimper of pain, I looked back at Penelope. Four trickles of blood soaked through her blouse and ran down her chest and arms. The spiders had squeezed their razor-sharp legs through her skin.

I had to give the girl marks for her bravery, though. Tears welled in her eyes but the only sound which escaped her was that one small whimper.

“Stop!” I cried. “Don’t hurt the girl.”

Lord Malice pressed the button again and the spiders disentangled their legs, scurried back down Penelope’s body and disappeared.

Lord Malice sauntered over to Penelope with a smile. He watched her intensely but spoke to me.

“The girl is not seriously harmed, nor will she be. If you talk.”

He put out a long, cadaverous finger and touched some of the blood on Penelope’s shoulder. He looked at his finger and then put it in his mouth, tasting her blood.

A small shudder passed through her body, of revulsion or fear, I didn’t know, but she lifted her chin and stared into the man’s eyes with a hatred as intense as his lust.

“Your hair,” he murmured, apparently distracted from our conversation. “Pardon me, my dear, but I haven’t been this close to a woman in far too long.” He reached out and pulled the pins from Penelope’s hair; rampant gold-blonde curls tumbled half-way down her back.

“You’ve doubtless scared them all away,” she said, her voice steely with scorn despite its tremor.

Lord Malice gently tangled a hand in her hair, then violently pulled her head back. He ran the fingers of his other hand down her exposed neck, but stopped at the top button of her blouse.

“Do not answer me, young lady. I do not tolerate women who speak. This is your one warning.” His voice was silky smooth and deadly.

Penelope’s blue eyes were suddenly wide with fear.

“I know everything!” I shouted, desperate to distract him from his victim.

He did not turn to me, though, but kept his gaze on the white skin of the girl’s neck.

“So soft,” he whispered.

I tried again. “I know that you have planted rumors of treason and sedition in order to ruin powerful men.”

He kept his grip on her hair and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, from her neck to the waistband of her trousers. He pulled at the gap to widen it and licked his lips at the sight.

As a man, I had to appreciate the cleavage, surprisingly ample, spilling over the top of her corset. I was recalled to my senses, though, when I recognized the blood which had soaked into that corset and still ran in slow rivulets down her white skin.

I shouted. “You paid agents to buy up the confiscated property.” I strained against my bonds again, desperate to turn the danger to myself rather than this blameless girl.

Penelope sucked in a breath as Lord Malice slid a hand underneath her shift and inside the corset. She couldn’t have made a sound with her neck held at that angle, but something told me she would suffer in stubborn silence no matter what this man did.

“You’re blackmailing the prime minister until you can finish your scheme and take over the country.” My voice broke with the strain.

Lord Malice slowly slid his hand free, then pulled Penelope’s blood-soaked blouse further open, exposing one wounded shoulder. Malice leaned down and snaked his tongue along her skin.

I made a sound of inarticulate rage. I had told him everything I knew and was out of ideas.

Still intent on Penelope’s shoulder, Malice chuckled. “Thank you, Wilde, you’ve told me all I need to know. You and the girl will clearly have to die.” He spoke matter-of-factly and took another small lick, like a kitten with a bowl of sweetened milk. “But that’s no reason why we shouldn’t have some pleasure in the meantime.” He rolled out the word ‘pleasure’ as though savoring it.

He moved in front of her then and released his hold on her hair but grabbed her hard around the waist and lowered his mouth to her neck. He pressed her back against the control panel and flattened his body against hers.

“Don’t do this, Malice,” I said, my own voice desperate. “You will pay.”

He pulled back and turned to look at me over his shoulder.

“You’ll pardon me if I’m not terribly concerned by threats from a schoolteacher, particularly when he’s tied up and in the competent care of my minions.”

At that, several minions took up positions on my shoulders and legs. They did not sink their legs into me but I had no doubt that the threat existed.

“That does remind me, though,” Malice said, turning back to Penelope, “we really could use some privacy. Come, my dear.”
He pulled her away from the control panel and guided her toward a curtained off area several yards away.

“Malice, there’s more,” I lied. “I know more.”

He merely waved his hand and said, “It can wait. First things first.”

The curtain fell behind them. I watched the wall of curtain, as though my vigilance could protect the girl I had unwittingly put in harm’s way. How could I have not foreseen this possibility? Had my own arrogance blinded me to the dangers to which I was exposing her? The terrible fact was that I had been so confident in my own ability to track down and defeat Lord Malice that I simply had not thought of her safety at all.

A small cry of pain echoed off the cavern walls and I hung my head in an agony of shame.

A moment later, I heard booted feet run across the stone floor. I lifted my head and there she was, triumph in her eyes and a knife in her hand.

“What…?” I didn’t even know how to frame my question.

She cut the bonds which held my ankles then ran behind and cut my hands free. With the short blade of her knife, she picked up the guard minions and dashed them against the cavern walls where they exploded into fragments of gears and wires.

She pulled me to my feet and said, “Well, how do we get out of here?”

She stood there, eyes glowing with excitement, blond hair spilling around her ravaged shoulders, borrowed baggy trousers and tall brown leather boots, and she was beautiful.

A moan emanated from behind the curtain and we both glanced that way.

“Come on.” I grabbed her hand and we ran. Back through winding tunnels and empty caverns, we followed the map in my head.

Finally I felt her lagging behind and heard her breathing grow ragged. I led her into a small side tunnel and pulled her against the wall.

“Here,” I said. “Catch your breath.”

“What about…” she gasped, “…minions?”

“It’s okay,” I said, “we’ll wait.” We both bent and grabbed our knees, sucking in air.

When the stitch in my side eased, I said, “What happened back there, anyway?”

She pushed her hair back and grinned. “When he was talking, I saw the knife on the control panel but couldn’t figure out how to get it. When he backed me against the panel, I grabbed the knife and stuck it into the waistband of my trousers.”

She paused to breathe a few more times. “When we went behind the curtain, he tried to tie me to the headboard of his bed.”

She wiped a hand across her mouth, remembering.

“That meant he had to put my hands in front of me, though, and as he did so, I brought the knife with me. I tried to stab his neck but I think I only got his shoulder. He stumbled back, though, and hit his head on the stone wall. I didn’t even wait to see if he was unconscious, which I guess he was; I just ran.”

I shook my head and chuckled. “Miss Hammersmith,” I said, “you are a wonder.” I pushed away from the wall and held out my hand.

She straightened, smiled, and shook my proffered hand.

We both laughed with mingled relief and exhaustion. The laughter soon faded and we stared at each other.

She glanced down and quickly dropped my hand. I cleared my throat and rubbed my hands together.

"I'm a university professor, you know."

She looked up, clearly puzzled. "I know."

"I mean," I bumbled on, "I only mention it because Malice called me a schoolteacher. Which I'm not."

"Oh, of course." She smiled and I felt like an idiot.

“I’m sorry we didn’t stop him, though,” she said, her blue eyes serious.

“We’ll fight him another day,” I said. “For now, let’s just get out of here.”

“I’m right behind you.”

I held out my hand again. “Come with me.”

She took my hand and we ran.