Mission: Improper: London Steampunk: The Blue Blood Conspiracy Read Online Free Page A
Author: Bec McMaster
the space of two hours, just as evening fell on March sixteenth."
Malloryn flicked the slide. A sandy arena sprang to view, spattered with blackened shadows of blood and covered in bodies. "The Devil's Pit, beneath the Barking Dog Tavern on the outskirts of Whitechapel. The entire crowd was slaughtered, and most of the combatants. Nobody knows who did it, but the doors were locked from the outside. Considering the location we left the scene to Blade, the Devil of Whitechapel, to solve. So far, he's got nothing. No scent, no tracks, just slaughter."
Byrnes's interest sharpened. He'd heard nothing of this, but that was not unusual. The Devil of Whitechapel was a force of his own, and had been part of the consortium that overthrew the prince consort during the revolution. He policed his own territories with his gang of ruffians, and Nighthawks were rarely invited in. Charlie Todd, however, didn’t look surprised, and he was one of Blade's lieutenants.
Something caught his attention as Malloryn flicked through several slides from the fighting pits. "Wait a minute," Byrnes called. "Go back to that previous slide. There ." He pointed. "That black flag painted on the wall, with the letters above it... that symbol was on the walls at Begby Square."
"Very good. So it was." Malloryn pressed the slides forward. More images, more chaos. "The same symbol appears on the nearby walls at the St. Andrew’s Church in Holborn, where the local congregation was attempting to rebuild the church now that the laws against humans practicing religion have been relaxed." A photograph showed a man crucified outside the burning church. "The newly ordained priest, Joseph Cannon. Or should I say, the late Reverend Joseph Cannon. The symbol also appeared at the abandoned King Street enclaves last month, where fourteen mechs lay crushed in the machinery. All of them had worked there in the past, and there was no reason for them to be there once the project was abandoned."
"Four incidents in London," Byrnes mused.
"That we know of," Malloryn hastily corrected. "Since March this year."
"Traditionally, a black flag has been a symbol of anarchy," Ingrid said with a frown. "What do the letters painted above them say?"
Malloryn flicked hastily through the slides until he showed a closer view of the symbol. "Sometimes it reads SOG. Sometimes it is simply the number zero. At the enclaves, it was a numeral three."
"Which means?" Ingrid asked.
Malloryn leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's what I am interested in discovering. People are growing scared and there is a rumor on the streets that the queen's new rule isn't so different to the prince consort's. All of the progress that the queen and the Council of Dukes have made in the past three years to improve the city and create peace between the factions and species has been obliterated."
"No scent," Kincaid said. "Slaughter... that sounds like a blue blood to me. Any of your pasty-faced lords unaccounted for?"
"No member of the Echelon did this—"
"How do you know it's not a member of the Echelon?" Kincaid demanded.
"Because information is currency, and I'm the type of person who is extremely rich in information. No one blue blood could do this.
"Every time the queen and the Council of Dukes make a proclamation—such as the reformation of the Anti-Religious Act—someone goes out and wreaks havoc against the very thing that we are trying to improve. I've seen broadsheets stating that the queen rules that people can gather at houses of worship again, then goes and slaughters the lot of them, just to prove that they can't. People are scared," Malloryn said, resting his hip on the edge of his desk. "And when people become scared, trouble starts to occur.
"I need to know who is doing this and my traditional network isn't coming up with answers. In short order, that's why you're all sitting here. You have been invited to form a company of elite agents to protect the queen and the people
Malloryn flicked the slide. A sandy arena sprang to view, spattered with blackened shadows of blood and covered in bodies. "The Devil's Pit, beneath the Barking Dog Tavern on the outskirts of Whitechapel. The entire crowd was slaughtered, and most of the combatants. Nobody knows who did it, but the doors were locked from the outside. Considering the location we left the scene to Blade, the Devil of Whitechapel, to solve. So far, he's got nothing. No scent, no tracks, just slaughter."
Byrnes's interest sharpened. He'd heard nothing of this, but that was not unusual. The Devil of Whitechapel was a force of his own, and had been part of the consortium that overthrew the prince consort during the revolution. He policed his own territories with his gang of ruffians, and Nighthawks were rarely invited in. Charlie Todd, however, didn’t look surprised, and he was one of Blade's lieutenants.
Something caught his attention as Malloryn flicked through several slides from the fighting pits. "Wait a minute," Byrnes called. "Go back to that previous slide. There ." He pointed. "That black flag painted on the wall, with the letters above it... that symbol was on the walls at Begby Square."
"Very good. So it was." Malloryn pressed the slides forward. More images, more chaos. "The same symbol appears on the nearby walls at the St. Andrew’s Church in Holborn, where the local congregation was attempting to rebuild the church now that the laws against humans practicing religion have been relaxed." A photograph showed a man crucified outside the burning church. "The newly ordained priest, Joseph Cannon. Or should I say, the late Reverend Joseph Cannon. The symbol also appeared at the abandoned King Street enclaves last month, where fourteen mechs lay crushed in the machinery. All of them had worked there in the past, and there was no reason for them to be there once the project was abandoned."
"Four incidents in London," Byrnes mused.
"That we know of," Malloryn hastily corrected. "Since March this year."
"Traditionally, a black flag has been a symbol of anarchy," Ingrid said with a frown. "What do the letters painted above them say?"
Malloryn flicked hastily through the slides until he showed a closer view of the symbol. "Sometimes it reads SOG. Sometimes it is simply the number zero. At the enclaves, it was a numeral three."
"Which means?" Ingrid asked.
Malloryn leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's what I am interested in discovering. People are growing scared and there is a rumor on the streets that the queen's new rule isn't so different to the prince consort's. All of the progress that the queen and the Council of Dukes have made in the past three years to improve the city and create peace between the factions and species has been obliterated."
"No scent," Kincaid said. "Slaughter... that sounds like a blue blood to me. Any of your pasty-faced lords unaccounted for?"
"No member of the Echelon did this—"
"How do you know it's not a member of the Echelon?" Kincaid demanded.
"Because information is currency, and I'm the type of person who is extremely rich in information. No one blue blood could do this.
"Every time the queen and the Council of Dukes make a proclamation—such as the reformation of the Anti-Religious Act—someone goes out and wreaks havoc against the very thing that we are trying to improve. I've seen broadsheets stating that the queen rules that people can gather at houses of worship again, then goes and slaughters the lot of them, just to prove that they can't. People are scared," Malloryn said, resting his hip on the edge of his desk. "And when people become scared, trouble starts to occur.
"I need to know who is doing this and my traditional network isn't coming up with answers. In short order, that's why you're all sitting here. You have been invited to form a company of elite agents to protect the queen and the people
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