The Doomsday Vault Read Online Free

restricted herself to proper ladylike servings of veal escalopes, carrots Vichy, and gooseberry fool. Norbert, for his part, remained attentive and charming. Alice liked his company well enough, though she didn’t feel any of the pounding, heaving, or poetic emotions referred to in any of the poetry or... less literary work about romance she had read over the years. Norbert certainly seemed interested in her, and Alice did find that both heartening and satisfying. It was nice to know someone found her desirable.
    They were just moving back to the dance floor when a delicate brass dove fluttered into the ballroom and landed on Norbert’s shoulder. With a surprised look, he opened a small panel on the back, removed a slip of paper, and read. Alice took the bird from him and examined it. The delicate work on the feathers was particularly fine. The glassy eyes were bright and alert, and it moved realistically in her gloved hands.
    â€œI’m sorry, Miss Michaels, but a situation has arisen at my factory and I must leave,” Norbert said. “And here I was hoping to see you home. Do forgive me.”
    And then he was gone, the dove fluttering after him.
    â€œEveryone’s talking about you,” Louisa said, appearing at her elbow like magic.
    â€œIs that good or bad?”
    â€œHard to tell. Norbert Williamson is the joker in the pack. No one knows what he’s really about, so they don’t know how to react to him—or to you, now. But they’re still not talking to you. The men are afraid of the clockwork plague, and the women are afraid that anyone who talks to you won’t be asked to dance by anyone good.”
    Alice sighed, suddenly tired. “Except you.”
    â€œThere are advantages to having one’s own money,” Louisa said without a shred of self-consciousness. “Patrick Barton—the ash-blond one in the bad coat—is seeing me home tonight. And he’ll probably have breakfast.”
    It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. Alice snapped open her fan, scandalized. “Louisa!”
    Louisa laughed again. “You need to have more fun, Alice. Call on me, darling. I should mingle.” And she left.
    Exhaustion settled over Alice, and the ballroom air was loaded with heat from dancing bodies. She decided it was time to go. Lady Greenfellow hadn’t stationed herself near the door yet, which meant Alice didn’t need to bid her an official good-bye, though she would have to write a long thank-you letter later. She retrieved her shawl and allowed the manservant to open the massive front doors for her. The cool night air woke her a bit as the servant waved at one of the cabs for hire that waited in the circular drive. It was an old-fashioned one, with four wheels instead of two and a driver who sat up front. In the distance, faint music played—a haunting, compelling melody from a flutelike instrument Alice couldn’t quite identify. To Alice’s surprise, the servant handed the driver a sum of money and told him to take the lady home.
    â€œCourtesy of Mr. Williamson, ma’am,” the servant said, helping her in.
    Alice knew she should feel delighted that Norbert Williamson was expressing a continued interest in her, but now that she wasn’t dancing, the champagne was catching up with her and she felt only sleepy. At least Father would be pleased. The cab clattered and rolled through gaslit London streets with Alice dozing in the back. The faint music she had heard earlier grew louder, irritating rather than pleasing. Far off, Big Ben tolled the time with his familiar bells—two a.m.—and the carriage came to an abrupt halt. Alice roused herself and turned to look out the side of the cab.
    Facing her was a crowd of plague zombies. The first one reached for the door.

Chapter Two
    G avin Ennock let the last long note slide from his fiddle and fade away. He lifted the bow from the strings and cocked a bright blue eye