Chapter 39 Kane
KANE
There was overwhelming, disorienting brightness.
The moment Zaria fired the gun, the entire Crystal Palace was suddenly awash in illumination.
It spread out over the lower level like a dazzling blanket, casting the exhibits below in sharp clarity.
It was, Kane thought, like watching the sun burst over the horizon all at once.
Everything seemed to sparkle, and as his eyes adjusted he saw that millions of tiny crystals hung in the air above their heads, each one an individual pinprick of light.
He cast Zaria a sidelong glance, trying to gauge whether this was what she had intended. Her own eyes were slitted, her chin lifted, and as Kane watched, a satisfied grin spread across her face. She pointed downward in the direction of the palace’s eastern wing.
“There!” Zaria screamed over the balcony. “She’s by France!”
It didn’t take Kane long to understand what she was referring to.
Far below them, now thrust into visibility by the blanket of light, Aurora Vaughan was sprinting among the displays.
Price’s men were spread throughout the Exhibition, looking like tiny figurines in their matching uniforms, and they leapt into action following Zaria’s declaration.
Kane watched as Aurora doubled back, narrowly skirting the nearest copper when the man tried to intercept her.
The area by the fountain was still thick with aleuite smoke, and Kane knew at once where Aurora was heading when she pulled the top layer of her skirt up to cover her mouth and nose.
“I’m going to cut her off,” he told Zaria, already moving toward the stairs.
She whirled to stare at him, the revolver dangling from her hand. “Kane, you’re—“
What he was, though, Kane didn’t get to hear.
He darted down the stairwell, shielding his eyes from the brightness overhead, heading for the crystal fountain once more.
His ribs ached, and each breath tore through his lungs like a knife had been taken to them.
The moment he reached the lower level, he skidded to a stop, his chest heaving.
The smoke here wasn’t as dense as it had been, but even with the light, it was difficult to see more than a few footfalls in front of him.
Kane cast around for Aurora, his breath catching every time he caught the silhouette of a nearby statue in his periphery.
He couldn’t explain why he so desperately wanted to catch this woman himself.
Perhaps it was because her absurd stunts at the Exhibition had nearly landed Kane in prison.
Perhaps it was because she could have spent the last eighteen years loving her child—the very thing Kane’s own mother had been stripped of—and she’d chosen not to.
Or perhaps it had nothing to do with Kane at all. Perhaps it was because of what Aurora had done to Zaria. What she’d been willing to do. Perhaps it was because of the unbearable, furious pressure that built within him when he considered what had almost happened.
He wanted to protect Zaria, Kane realized. After everything that had happened, and everything they’d both done, his life felt meaningless without her in it. He hadn’t been lying when he said she’d brought him as close to happiness as he suspected he was capable of.
He also hadn’t been lying when he told Jules he would let her go.
Kane heard Aurora before he saw her. Her footsteps were loud on the tile, even against the relentless rushing water of the nearby fountain.
The combination of aleuite smoke and the glistening brightness overhead gave everything a cloudy quality, turning the world around him bright but strangely opaque.
He didn’t care that he didn’t have a weapon. He didn’t care that his body was in agony or that his vision was narrowing as he launched himself directly into Aurora Vaughan’s path.
She let out a shriek as they collided, both of them slamming to the floor.
“Here!” Kane bellowed, his voice hoarse, hoping Price or his men would overhear.
He grappled with Aurora’s flailing arms as the woman fought him, trying to rise.
Maybe he should have wanted to hurt her.
After all, she’d made his life miserable both as the Curator and as Vaughan.
Instead, though, Kane felt… calm. Not only because he didn’t want to hit a woman, and not in that terrible empty way he’d become accustomed to, but because something inside him seemed to have quieted.
“Stop this,” he hissed, then grunted when Aurora hit him in the side of the face.
Her blue eyes flashed. “I know who you are, Kane Durante. Working alongside the coppers? Are you serious? You’re a pathetic excuse for a kingpin.”
“Yes, well.” Kane shrugged. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother. We all have our flaws.”
The thunder of boots sounded suddenly, growing nearer until Inspector Price himself materialized from the aleuite smoke. He was breathing hard, his face flushed. Four more men appeared behind him a heartbeat later.
“Get her out of this area,” he ordered. “You know what this smoke did last time.”
Kane rolled aside as two of the officers took hold of Aurora and dragged her to her feet.
She continued to spout insults as they guided her away, one of them shackling her in the process.
Grimacing, Kane pushed himself to stand, then limped away from the fountain and into clear air.
He wrenched his coat away from his mouth, taking a deep breath.
The light overhead was beginning to wane, he realized, the tiny crystals clattering to the tile around him.
“Durante!”
Someone barked his name, and Kane turned to see Price beckoning him with a forefinger.
Pressing his lips together and bracing himself, he approached the inspector.
He’d broken away from the coppers the moment chaos had taken hold, disappearing in his haste to get to Zaria.
Doing so, Kane supposed, had not exactly been a show of faith.
“Inspector,” he said, nodding. The man stood beside a cluster of Roman-inspired statues, an expressionless audience.
Price’s face was equally inscrutable as he gestured vaguely overhead. “Care to explain what the hell this was?”
Kane hesitated. Price didn’t know Zaria was an alchemologist, he realized. Had no idea that she had the primateria source, or what she’d been able to do with it.
“No idea,” he lied. “It must have been something Aurora did. Accidentally, I suspect.”
Price stared down his nose at Kane. “Do you take me for a fool, Durante?”
“Not remotely, sir. Surely, though, when you make your report to the crown, such an explanation will suffice.”
“I’m going to have quite a lot of explaining to do as it is,” Price said. His nostrils flared above his mustache. “And I expect to get a rather interesting story from Miss Vaughan herself, should she be convinced to talk.”
That was a variable Kane hadn’t considered.
What the hell would Aurora say, if indeed she decided to play nicely with the coppers?
“We had a deal,” he reminded Price, leaning closer.
“I delivered the Curator to you. I’ll testify against her.
Hell, I’ll say whatever you want. In return, though, I’m free to go. ”
Price’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, well, we struck that agreement before I realized what I’d have to contend with. Do you truly think everyone will believe a woman was capable of all this?”
“We had a deal,” Kane repeated, this time on a growl. “I don’t care what your superiors believe. A woman did do it all. You saw it with your own eyes.”
“Yes, yes. But it will be difficult to convince people of that, you understand.”
Foreboding rose within Kane, sharp and sudden. His insides twisted. “You’re going to take me in, too, aren’t you?” he said, the words edged with sardonic humor. “It’s far easier to position me as the culprit—I look like the criminal everyone expects.”
Price gave an apologetic shrug, spreading his hands wide. “You understand the place I’m in.”
“I understand that you’re a fucking traitor,” Kane shot back.
At the same time, however, he was relieved to be here alone.
Fletcher had made it safely away, his long-lost sister with him.
Zaria could leave London with Jules as they’d always planned.
Only Kane had to suffer. And wasn’t it better that way?
It took him a moment to realize that Price was waiting for him to turn around. He did so, biting down hard on his tongue as he exposed his wrists, still sore from the shackles he’d worn earlier. Before he felt cool metal touch his skin, however, he heard a voice from behind them.
“Let him go.”
Kane felt Price turn. He did the same, casting his gaze down the corridor to see Zaria standing there. Her stance was wide, her brows drawn together. She held the Colt revolver in both hands.
And she was pointing it directly at Price.
Having reholstered his own firearm in preparation to cuff Kane, the inspector wasn’t holding a weapon. His eyes flicked toward his belt as Zaria took another step forward.
“Don’t you dare move,” she threatened. “If a single finger so much as twitches toward that gun, I’ll shoot.”
Kane was frozen, horror lodged in the back of his throat. After what Zaria had done to the revolver, he wasn’t sure it could shoot. Not bullets, anyway. What did she think she was doing?
Price’s gray brows ascended his forehead before his shock was replaced by vague amusement.
“Ah. Miss Vaughan’s daughter, correct? I’m surprised you elected to stick around.
Tell me, what did you do to so thoroughly command Mister Durante’s affections?
Between us, I wasn’t sure he had the capacity to care about other people. ”
“Then I’m not sure you know much about Mister Durante at all.” Zaria didn’t move, relaxing her expression so that it mirrored the inspector’s. “In any case, you’d best let him go. As I understand it, the two of you had a deal.”