“I will feel better with you following leads in London.”
“And it’s certainly possible they will intersect with yours at some point. We have to assume the thing we saw is part of the situation with Colonel Hibbert, and he is tied in with my werewolves. It’s far too coincidental that we would experience this sudden downpour of the occult.”
“Agreed.” Kate tapped one of the journals on the table with the key. “The thing that poisoned you is a homunculus. Clearly, it had been human once. He was altered either mechanically or alchemically. Or both.”
“I’ve seen homunculi before, but never exactly like that. It moved well, and the poisonous spines were a clever introduction, half muscle and half metal. Whoever forged it is an extraordinary craftsman.” Simon wandered idly about the room, studying the walls and surfaces. “It would be fascinating if we could trap it.”
“I say kill it.” Kate’s eyes sparked with fire.
“If necessary, but it would be preferable to study it.”
“It’s preferable to me that it not be here at all.”
“That’s understandable, but don’t you want to find out why it is here? Isn’t it always better to know than not? You’re a scholar.”
“When something threatens my family, scholarship be damned.” Her steel gaze met his.
There was a knock at the door, causing them both to jump, and Kate called out to enter. Hogarth stepped inside, and said in a quiet voice, “Pardon me, but Miss Imogen is talking to herself.”
Kate could see that the servant was distressed. “She’s had opium. That’s not too unusual.”
“I glanced inside and saw Miss Imogen standing by an open window. I coaxed her back to bed, then lingered outside her door. She was soon talking again.”
“I’ll check on Imogen.” Kate started for the door with a glance at Simon that brought him to her side. Hogarth and Aethelred followed. “And then perhaps we should have a look around outside.”
Simon retrieved his walking stick from beside the door. “Hogarth, would you be good enough to bring a heavy cloak.”
The servant veered off as Kate, Simon, and the wolfhound took the stairs. They hurried down the hallway and Kate took a deep breath, putting her ear to a door. Her eyes tightened. She heard the sound of Imogen’s voice quite plainly although she couldn’t make out the words. Then, in the silence left when Imogen stopped talking came a strange whooshing sound that could have been the wind.
Aethelred whined suddenly and pressed against his mistress with his tail drooping behind him.
Simon pulled the sword from his cane. “He senses something.”
“The homunculus?” Kate rose in alarm.
“I hope it is. We can settle it once and for all.”
Kate reached for the doorknob, but Simon seized her wrist. He shook his head and signaled for her to wait. Hogarth jogged toward them carrying an oiled-canvas rain cloak. Simon took it and motioned Kate away from the door. Aethelred hunched low, muscles tensing, hackles stiff on his neck. The dog glared at the door.
Simon mouthed the words, “Keep him out here.”
“You think it’s in there with her?” Kate’s heart pounded in her throat at the intensity in his eyes. She fought the urge to rush inside as Hogarth took Aethelred by the collar, pulling him back lest the dog give them away.
Simon immediately turned the knob and pushed the door open. Shadows in the bedroom all seemed to move on their own accord. The orange glow from the fireplace flickered in the draft. Imogen stood in front of a large wardrobe across the room. She turned at the sound of the door.
Simon inched into the room. His head swiveled from side to side, searching the black corners. Kate slipped behind Simon, who held the canvas cloak up in front of him, with the sword still in one hand and the empty stick in the other. The window was open and Kate could see her breath in the damp air.
“Why are you in my room?” Imogen’s voice was full of familiar haughtiness, but there was something blank in her eyes. She wasn’t truly looking at Simon. She was staring into the distance beyond him.
“Are you alone, Miss Imogen?” he asked.
“Just leave.”
“Would you step away from that wardrobe, please?”
“Imogen,” Kate coaxed anxiously, “come to me.”
Imogen stood rooted in place. The wind blew her nightgown and the pale moonlight from the window illuminated her shape beneath the billowing fabric. Kate started around Simon, inching toward Imogen. The young woman reached up and put her hand on the door of the wardrobe. Simon tensed.