Submerged: The Clockwork Siren Series, #2

By Katie Hayoz

WHAT IF EVERYTHING YOU KNEW ABOUT YOURSELF WAS A LIE?  

 

Melusine Doré is as practiced at guarding a secret as she is at wielding a weapon.  Yet her past refuses to stay buried.  Her worst fears are realized when Melusine and her companion, Levi, get called to hunt a beast in her birthplace of Malheur. The second she sets foot on her native soil, nothing proceeds as she planned: a beautiful tinker sets her sights on Levi, a gentle monster kills for sport, and an admission of love becomes a betrayal. Melusine comes face to face with the lies of her family's past—and a truth that could destroy her.

 

Adventure number two in the Clockwork Siren series, Submerged takes us from the muddy trenches of steampunk Chicago to the sticky swamps of Louisiana to the slippery side of love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie Hayoz
• Release date: Sep 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215620540

Book preview

Chapter One

The broadside under the heel of Melusine’s boot taunted, MELUSINE DORE: FRIEND OR FIEND?

Good question, thought Melusine. It was the third headline this week that sought to put Melusine in the same category as the monsters she hunted.

She twisted her foot, the thin paper folding like an accordion and ripping under the pressure. She would worry about the accusations later. Now, she had a job to do.

She descended step by rotting step down a ladder and into a muddy trench. The air was ripe with the odor of insects and stagnant water and sewage. She tugged her chatelaine out from her corset and opened a tiny vial of rosemary oil, dotting a drop of it directly under her nose.

Her boots squelched in the muck, her hands out on either side, scrabbling the walls of the trench. The darkening night made it difficult to see; she scraped against newly laid pipes and tripped over littered debris. A fur-backed troll had taken up residence in the ditches dug for the new pipelines that were intended to clean up Chicago. The creature had been making meals of the workers, leaving nothing but picked-clean bones behind. If the city wanted to move forward on its project to raise itself out of squalor and sewage, the troll had to be taken care of.

An itch at the base of her skull told her she was close. Fingering her chatelaine again, she unhooked a bag of goblin powder from the links. She was at a crossroads of sorts, the trench tunneling both straight ahead and to the right. To the side, almost completely hidden in shadow, was a misshapen figure. Ahead of her was another one; she could just make out the two bulging orbs of its eyes. As it stepped forward, Melusine threw the goblin powder in its face. Sweet dreams, little troll, she said.

But instead of dropping into an instant deep sleep, the creature sneezed. Loudly. Once. Then twice. A voice Melusine knew well swore, Tarnation! Mel, please tell me this isn’t goblin powder!

Levi Cannon. Now that she was closer, Melusine saw the strange copper and glass contraption Levi wore strapped to his face. Night goggles, his inventor friend Zahn’s latest design. Levi sneezed three more times then took the glasses off. Already, even in the dim light, Melusine could see the pink stain of irritation from the powder blossoming on his face everywhere but where the goggles had been.

"I’m hunting a troll. Of course it’s goblin powder. What are you doing here?"

The sneezing was constant now, and Levi had to speak in gasps. With the rumors…I just…wanted…to be positive…no one…would…try to hurt…you. He sneezed an explosion, then yelled, Behind you!

But Melusine was ready. The back of her neck had been crawling at the monster’s approach. She yanked her dagger from the sheath on her thigh and whipped around, throwing the blade between the troll’s giant, milky eyes. The beast was pale, its yellow-blue skin wrinkled, translucent and hairless but for the thick rug of brown fur growing over its shoulders and down its back.

The dagger stunned it for a second, but then it let out a gurgled roar and raced for Melusine. She readied the dregs of the goblin powder, was just waiting for the creature to get close enough when clink, clink, clink, pop, pop, pop, she felt the whizz of bullets passing over her shoulder. The monster burst into a mess of fluids, tufts of brown fur covering Melusine like an itchy blanket.

A crank gun? she moaned. You planned on making a mess. Admit it, Mr. Cannon. She tried wiping the coarse fur off of her arms, but all she managed to do was spread it around.

Not unless you admit that throwing the goblin powder my direction was not entirely an accident. Levi was now scratching at his face, the pink blotches growing red. Ow! Tonight of all nights! You know I have an appointment with a woman on Ashton Avenue to remove the gnome that’s taken up residence in her garden.

Oh, yes, Melusine remembered the elegant and beautiful sophisticate who’d made the appointment. Who’d insisted that Levi come work alone. Melusine held back a twitch of a smile.

That’s tonight? She took her dagger from the troll’s skull and wiped the purple blood off on the leg of her trousers. Holding the blade up in front of her, she inspected its cleanliness, the tip pointed at Levi’s heart. But what does it matter how you look? Surely, you were not planning on seducing the lady?

Levi set a gloved finger on top of the blade and lowered it until the point was facing the ground. His eyes stayed trained on her face, the intensity of them tugging at a thread of longing stitched in Melusine’s chest.

There’s only one woman who interests me, he said. I’d kiss her now if I could, but my lips are beginning to blister.

Melusine’s spirits lifted like an airship at his admission. She shoved the dagger back in its sheath, coughed and avoided Levi’s gaze. Yes, well, she said. The goblin powder’s effects will be gone in an hour or so. Perhaps she’d be willing to oblige then.

Levi winked, its effect nearly lost under all the swelling. I shall hold her to it.

They left the troll’s head on the steps of city hall with a note: The city is safe once again. –Melusine Doré & Levi Cannon. Normally, she wouldn’t work without pay, but now that Sir Edwin Aldridge had proclaimed to the Chicago Tribune that Melusine was a monster, she had to do what she could to prove her loyalty to the city and her job. She had to do what she could to dispel any rumors.

Once they were in front of Melusine’s boarding house, Levi sighed. I wish you would stay with me, Mel. Levi owned a lovely boat with more comfort than the room she rented at the boarding house. He could scarcely understand why Melusine refused to stay with him—it was not as if she cared about her reputation.

But so many years of guarding her heart from men made it difficult to expose it for handling.

Levi continued, I worry –

Melusine pressed a finger to Levi’s lips but quickly pulled it back as he flinched, a hissing sound coming from between his teeth. Hurts, he said.

Regret over the goblin powder rose as a vague soreness in her throat. I’m sorry, Levi.

But now Levi put his finger to her lips, tracing the line of them. A warm shiver tickled her spine. Shh, he whispered. You’re covered in fur. I had my vengeance.

The tickle washed away and Melusine stood straighter. Oh, no. No, no, no. This is no game, Mr. Cannon.

Levi strode off in the direction of Ashland Avenue, calling over his shoulder, And yet, Miss Doré, you play it so well.

Melusine watched him disappear around the corner. When he was well and gone, she turned to go inside. But down at the other end of the street a crowd emerged from between buildings. They were shouting her name.

Damn it all to pieces. Sir Edwin Aldridge had gotten them riled up with his accusations. Now they wanted to see her tails. Wanted to kill her, stuff her and mount her on a wall as a modern curiosity. Edwin had done all he could to try to make her his and, when that didn’t work, he’d started on the path to destroy her.

It wouldn’t happen tonight.

Melusine hurried up to her room, dipped a flannel in her washbasin and did her best to clean off any leftover remnants of troll. She wiggled out of her tight gas-pipe trousers and slipped into the only set of skirts she owned. She did not slide back into her boots, but left her feet bare. She re-strapped her dagger to her thigh, put her pistol in a holster round her hips, and dropped a spring-loaded dust grenade into her pack. She added miniscule dragon claw spears and a lightning pellet to her chatelaine. Mrs. Steed, the landlady, opened Melusine’s door and banged on the frame with a chapped fist. Miss Mel! There’s a crowd out there yelling for you!

In five minutes, there won’t be a trace of them, said Melusine. The other boarders were peeking out from behind their doors, some made-up like strumpets, others with aprons over their dresses. Their eyebrows lifted in curiosity, but not shock. There were always odd goings-on in the building. They did, however, grin at the sight of Melusine in traditional female garb. Melusine smiled back, ready to laugh at herself. She felt utterly ridiculous. Her skirts were long and cumbersome. But she would have to give the pack outside some proof; in her opinion, it was less distasteful to lift one’s skirts than drop one’s drawers.

She hesitated, pointing to the cleaning closet. Mrs. Steed, would you ready a pail of water, please? Full to the top.

No mess! No blood on my new stoop! Mrs. Steed crossed her arms. "The Tribune is out there. Don’t do something you’ll regret."

Do I ever? Melusine headed down the worn boarding house stairs to the front door before Mrs. Steed could give an honest answer.

She was glad Levi wasn’t here to see this. Glad he wasn’t here to point out that he hadn’t wanted to leave her alone. But she’d been alone for ten years – since the age of fifteen. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was take care of herself.

Yanking the door open, she stood out on the rickety wooden contraption that was the boarding house’s new stoop. Below it, like a neglected moat around a decaying castle, was a trench filled with sewage pipes. Chicago was preparing to be a jewel of the modern era. But for now, it was still a stink-hole of crime and disease and muck.

The stench of decay was punctuated with the odor of sulfur from the gas works down the street. Smoke from torches and lanterns in the crowd slid like snakes into the night air. Shouts of Traitor! and Liar! were hurled at her. Melusine scanned the crowd. It only took her a second to find him: Sir Edwin Aldridge. The instigator behind the people’s sudden thirst for blood. Her blood.

She’d barely taken a step forward when they were upon her, the wooden stairs vibrating underneath them. One man tried to