Seeingthe blue sparkles shower the courtyard, Adam felt the knot in his gut ease.
Gabby is safe. Thank God, my beloved is safe.
He let himself enjoy that blissful instant of relief…before picking up the scent again. Knowing that Gabby was out of harm’s way, he gave the hunt for De Villier his full attention. As he stalked through the courtyard scattered with wooden crates, tools, and assorted machinery, De Villier’s men were stumbling from the adjacent buildings, smoked out by Kent’s devices. The choking, gasping men were easily subdued by Adam’s allies.
Others of De Villier’s army were still battling fiercely. Aiming his pistol, Adam took down one who was grappling with Ransom by a pallet of metal rails. From the other side, a brute came charging at Adam, and he pulled out another pistol, ending the attack with a bullet. He strode on, scanning the brawling throng for De Villier.
Having searched the other buildings, he was about to enter the western building to continue his search when Kent came running out of its doorway, a handkerchief tied over his mouth, his arms gesturing wildly.
“Run.”
Adam turned and sprinted, Kent at his heels. They managed to find shelter behind a stack of crates just as a deafening blast tore through the air, the ground shaking. When the debris stopped raining, Adam looked around the edge of the makeshift shield, his eyes widening at the demolished building and rising blaze.
He gave Kent an incredulous look. “What the bloody hell happened?”
“I may have, er, accidentally tossed one of my devices into a cupboard full of fog signals.” At Adam’s blank look, Kent said abashedly, “Fog signals contain gunpowder.”
Christ. Adam was shaking his head…when he saw his quarry.
“De Villier.” He was on his feet, on the trail. “He just ran into the eastern building.”
Kent followed him into the long, cavernous space. The flickering glow of lamps revealed that this was the workshop where the locomotives were assembled. A metal behemoth sat unfinished, its iron skin gleaming. At the opposite end of the building, Adam saw the flash of De Villier’s pale hair…disappearing into the ground?
“Trapdoor,” he and Kent said at once.
They raced over as the trapdoor slammed into place. Adam reached it first, pulling at the metal ring. The door didn’t budge.
“It’s locked from the other side.” Giving Kent a glance, he took a step back. Then a few more steps, just to be safe. “Try not to blow us up.”
With a rather maniacal grin, Kent set to work. In a matter of minutes, they climbed through the jagged hole where the door had once been and found themselves on an underwater dock. Adam spotted De Villier: the blackguard was in a boat being rowed by one of his brutes, and they were nearly out of the underground passage. If he reached the Thames, the fog would give him cover, and he might easily escape.
There was only one boat left tethered to the dock: a small rowboat with a single oar.
Adam ran over and jumped in. “I’ll be faster alone.”
“Good luck, Garrity.” Kent helped him untie the rope. “See you back at the ship.”
Adam plowed his oar through the water, his transport gaining speed. De Villier had reached the river, but Adam wasn’t far behind.
“Row faster, you imbecile!” De Villier’s roar sounded close.
Adam squinted, trying to see the other’s boat lamp in the fog. A glimmer just a few lengths ahead, a movement…
He threw himself down on the bottom of the boat just as a bullet whizzed by, puncturing the starboard side.Christ.Water began pouring in. Muscles bunching, sweat pouring down his brow, he rowed toward his target. Water swirled around his calves. He closed in just as De Villier was reloading his pistol.
In a single motion, Adam rose and sprang onto the other boat.
He tackled both men as he landed, hearing their surprised grunts, the sound of De Villier’s weapon splashing into the river. He was already reaching for his boot when De Villier’s brute rolled him over. The man’s beefy hands circled Adam’s throat at the same time that Adam’s blade struck home. Adam withdrew the knife and kicked his foe over the side.
Crouching, dripping blade in hand, Adam faced De Villier.
Weaponless, the other scrambled back against the opposite end of the boat.
“Don’t do anything rash.” De Villier’s chest heaved. “I can give you anything you want. Wealth beyond your wildest dreams—”
“I don’t want your money.” Adam advanced, keeping his balance as the boat swayed.
“My name then. You want that, don’t you?” De Villier held out his hands, a placating gesture. “It’s what you always wanted, and I’ll give it to you. You were conceived before the marriage was annulled…I will attest to that, make you my heir. Here, take this.” He tugged on his finger, removing the bloodstone signet, holding it out like an offering in his palm. “It belongs to you. Along with all the De Villier holdings, including Grand London Northern—”
