Chapter 19

Camilla rode with her brothers in the refurbished suite in her family's former private car. I had the entire interior remodeled so it wouldn't be so familiar to her. Everything from the stain of the wood paneling to the color of the pillow stitching. It all was thrown out and remade, hopefully stripping away anything that would trigger the bloody memories that haunted Milla's quiet approach as she boarded the train.

She'd said nothing since we started the journey to Lynchaven. Hadn't refused my demands for her to see the haelen for her burns. Too docile for something not to be bothering her. But there was a time for everything, and prodding wouldn't be helpful while we were still on the object of all her self-reproach.

Regulus had remained near the Marchese family, trailing them like a shadow. I noticed he slipped out for a smoke when I checked on the family not long ago, just before I returned to the medic car to help with Adler.

Luther remained with me, holding down our cousin as the haelen retrieved the bullet in his chest.

"Good thing his aim was shit, right?" I reminded him.

Adler gritted his teeth as Ruth pulled the lead out of his flesh. "Not feeling very appreciative at the moment, cousin."

I smiled at his misery. "Then I'll be grateful for you. Better a moment of hell than to face it permanently."

"Always the rational one."

I turned from the haelen's makeshift station in the sleeper car, where she had used a fold-out bed as her workspace. Luther stared out the window, his arms crossed.

"How are the rest of the liberated?"

"Mostly whole," he clipped. "Nothing ole' Ruth here couldn't seal or mend."

"Do not call me old, Luther Attano."

He swatted his hand in her direction. "Anyway, Marcus has scheduled us to stop at the station to drop off the family. The evacuees will be taken to the industrial park to stay at the old warehouse. Mother and the aunts have organized cots and food for the next few weeks until they can find permanent accommodations."

I nodded in confirmation. "While we travel, collect names of loved ones from each man and woman and we'll contact their families when we return to the city. I'll need to check on the tracks over the river as well—"

"You'll do no such thing, boss. You've got plenty of men and cousins to delegate these tasks." He patted my shoulder lightly, then squeezed it. "Do us all a favor and take a day off."

As nice as that sounded, shit still needed to be done. There would be no rest for any of us until the threats to our family were dealt with and eradicated for good. "The Nine will be looking to strike soon—"

"The Nine are powerless! We've got the upper hand—"

I shirked off his hand. "And if we lose sight of our goal for a moment, the advantage will slip right through our fingers. The bridge was only one point of access to the north side of the Isle, Luther. They could take that ship and everything we have if we do not continue what we set out to do."

Some of the victory filling his shoulders dwindled. "When does it end, Nico?"

After the planning and execution of Milla's rescue, I understood the wariness in his tone. Felt it deep in my bones. Worsening the ache was the unseen end point of it all.

"When we can rebuild the bridge."

I took his silence as a dismissal and started out the sleeper, opening the door to pass between the adjoined railcars.

The train jolted. Breaks screamed, and we shifted from full speed to a skidding stop. The jerk was so sudden; I was forced to brace myself on the nearby railing to prevent falling off the gangway connection.

Why the hells are we stopping?

We had stalled in the middle of a trestle, a bridge of steel latticework suspending the tracks over a dip in the landscape, ensuring a flat ride for the train between cresting hills. The tips of evergreens pierced the fog on either side.

I searched for a reason for our sudden stop. But without the ability to access the engine, we were stuck here.

Luther appeared in the doorway. "What the hells?"

"I don't know." An uncomfortable feeling curled in my stomach. We fell silent, waiting for some explanation to show itself.

"Do you hear that?"

In the quiet of the wilderness, the clank of metal on metal. Small at first, then near enough like it was coming closer. Luther and I watched the fog, waiting for the sound to actualize, when a black gloved hand reached over the top of the bridge, pulling up a masked face of a watchman.

Luther reacted before I did, pulling his gun to shoot the man in his face. The mask cracked but didn't concede to the bullet. He unleashed a round until the watchman slipped from the tracks and fell into the blanket of fog.

"Lock the doors," I shouted. "We're being attacked!"

I took off down the next railcar while Luther informed the ones following behind the sleepers, repeating the order to anyone who lingered about until I reached Milla's family's suite a few cars ahead. All three of the Marcheses stood, looking out the window to gain a hint of what was going on.

"Get down and cover the fucking window!" I hissed, pulling the curtains closed. "We've got watchmen crawling up the side of the bridge.

"How did they know the train was coming through here?" Milla's hazel eyes were wide on me, and she crossed her arms around her middle. "They couldn't have had enough time to organize an attack after Hightower."

"Good question, and one we'll answer later when time allows." I ripped up the aisle runner and pulled a section of boards free that had been glued together to form a lid.

"What's that?" Aramis asked.

I glared at him. What the hells did it look like? "A hidden bunk." Snapping at Milla, I said, "Get in and hide. I'll come for you when it's safe."

"It's happening," she whispered. Her breaths quickened. "I can't do this again, Nico."

"We've got a train full of remnants, princess. We'll be fine. But I'll bet money they're here to take you back, so I need you to hide." I outstretched my hand, and she glanced instead at the covered window. "Please, Milla." I dared not say her name louder than a whisper.

She winced, but finally cooperated, lying on her back in the narrow compartment. A perfect fit, no longer nor deeper than the size of her form. Before I shut the lid, I leaned forward and placed a kiss to her forehead.

She sucked a shaky breath, but her voice was firm as she spoke. "Don't be a good man. Come back to me, Nico."

"Don't worry about that, princess." I placed a gun over the hollow part of her stomach. Her fingers wrapped around it. "There is no line I wouldn't cross to be with you. I'll be quick, I promise."

No sooner had I placed the lid back over the bunk than did the car creak. Someone was climbing to the top, evident by the rocking. Stealing a glance at the brothers, I found Jeremiah staring up at the ceiling. Aramis stood by the door.

"What are we to do?" Jeremiah asked in a terrified whisper. He was younger and had been guarded enough to be inexperienced with this kind of danger. Watching his twin die must have been an incomparable tragedy. A shock to his privilege.

The roof groaned where the guard stepped. I pointed my second revolver at the spot and shot three times, adding new holes to the ceiling. The gas lamps flickered as a solid weight hit the roof with a thud. The guard's dead body landed hard before slinking off the side, briefly tipping the car.

"Do that. Keep this car clear and lock the door behind me."

Jeremiah swallowed hard but nodded, reluctantly unsheathing the gun at his hip. Aramis wore a look I couldn't translate, nor did I spare him another second to try. There were three passenger cars that needed checking, and if the Watch found me in here, they'd know exactly where Milla hid.

I opened the door, finding a guard fiddling with the lock of the next car. He turned just in time to look down my barrel before the bullet sunk into his forehead. I shoved him to the side before his knees gave out, where he fell over the edge to be swallowed by mist.

The door to the sleeper was locked, and I banged twice. "Open up!"

Facing one guard was simple enough, but remaining out here was less than ideal. Crawling to the roof where I didn't know how many waited would be a death wish.

Thankfully, Gideon recognized my voice and let me in the medic car. Adler had Ruth under his arm on his good side, insisting she'd be alright. The haelen wasn't convinced by the way her wide eyes shifted to every window.

"Luther is with the passengers. They looking for Milla, you think?" Gideon asked.

"I doubt they're trying to hitch a ride."

Glass burst from a shattered window. Ruth screamed as Adler threw them both flat on the aisle. Bullets ripped through the car, though neither of my cousins had lifted their guns. My remnant roared in my bones, and I paused the time to get to the window, shoving the gunman in the face just as I released the second. He fell back with a scream.

But more took his place.

"Watch the suite!" I shouted at Gideon. "Stay low and make sure no one compromises the family car." The last thing I needed from this ordeal was another casualty in their family. And if I trusted Milla's life in anyone else's hands, it was my cousin's. There was little faith left as far as Aramis was concerned.

Screams erupted from cars behind us, and I ran toward the sound, exposing myself as I crossed the gangway to pound on the door for Luther. The platform lurched as a heavy weight landed behind me. Without time to raise my gun or my remnant, leather gloves wrapped my throat, pressing me into a hard chest to cut off my windpipe.

"Like a rat on the run," he hissed in my ear. I struggled against his hold, the squeeze of his arm tightening until I couldn't breathe. "But you've got nowhere to hide now, vermin. Where's the key?"

Blades slid from the fingers of my false hand, sinking into his forearm. The man cried out and stumbled back, releasing his grip enough so I broke free. I whirled around, arm pulled back to strike him. But as I went for his throat, he grabbed my metal hand by the wrist.

The glint from his glove must have affected the ability of my remnant to move my hand as he grasped it, and my fingers went dead and out of my control. The concept startled me.

He recoiled his opposite hand and landed a fist on the bridge of my nose.

Blinking back tears, I wiped away the beginning of a stream of blood pouring from my face and spat a mouthful at his feet. "Is that all you got?"

He lunged, and I was ready to catch him with my active arm, until he stopped dead in his tracks—quite literally. The watchman bled, though not from anything I had done. His eyes, his mouth, his nose, even the orifices of his ears spilled blood until he choked on his own fluid and doubled over. A pile of bones and flesh, his skin held a bluish tone as he bled out all over the metal platform.

"Get in, Mr. Attano!"

I turned to see a woman with pale hair and eyes so light they were almost clear. She reached out to me, beckoning me inside the car. A Blood remnant by the expression of her power. Not everyone who could control the stuff became a healer. Some had more disturbing ways to control it.

I gladly accepted her invitation, reapplying the blockade they'd constructed from a table and a few chairs ripped from their foundation in the floor once I was inside.

"The other Attano is in the next car," she said between panicked breaths. "Can you tell us what's happening?"

As if in answer, the car shook as the weight of several watchmen stood on the roof. The passengers fell quiet, becoming so still we could each hear the cock of their guns. With a wild burst of wind from my remnant, I shoved aside the crowd, parting them until they jammed against the walls. No time for them to react; gun shots tore through the ceiling, littering the floor with lead where the descendants once stood.

An ache throbbed a pulse through my bones at the quick rush of release of my magic, but the threat was far from dealt with. Remnants primed, the air prickling in the car, ready to fight back with whatever the saints had left to their descendants.

But the watchmen didn't fire again. Odd, since I assumed they were trying to kill us. Instead, metal pipes filled the gaps. The sound of the men above tinkering with a mechanism followed, and a hiss of something spilling through the pipes. The wind I controlled suddenly felt out of reach. A smell like sulfur touched the air.

Gas.

"Cover yourselves!" I shouted, doing the same by pulling my coat over the bottom half of my face, if only to filter whatever it was they pumped into the space we congregated. Passengers pulled blankets over their heads, giving the stock my aunts packed on the train an additional use. There was nowhere to run, couldn't even leave the car since we were suspended on a bridge.

Eventually, despite my best efforts, the magic in my bones was dulled with the bitter aftereffects of what could only be accomplished by glint.

"Not poison," I spat. "Just their usual shit."

A man pushed off the wall, glowering. "You say that like it's a good thing! We have nothing to defend ourselves now. No better than fish in a barrel—"

A loud bang came from the door, the one opposite of where I'd entered. It too was barricaded, but I beckoned towards a group of descendants with my good hand, silently ordering for them to clear it.

"If they wanted you dead, you would be," I told him. "Let them in. We'll see what they want."

Satisfied they no longer wanted to kill for killing's sake, the passengers moved away the chairs that bolstered the door. As soon as they finished, it burst open from the kick of a guard.

Four of them ushered inside. Black and silver body armor hugged their form, light for the climb they no doubt scaled to reach the bridge. Black masks concealed their faces, adding to their commanding presence, which was about as subtle as a damn steam train. Cloaks drifted toward the open door, but their hoods remained over their obscured identities.

The passenger car behind us had been searched, if the similarly broken door was any indication.

"We've searched your passengers, but she's not there." The leader of the group stepped toward me. I only needed one good hand to shoot a gun, but he had three more to avenge him if I lifted my arm. "Where is the key, Attano?"

"I don't have a key."

He took another step forward. The barrel of his shotgun lingered over the descendants still pressed against the wall. "There are a lot of fugitives on this train, Mr. Attano. Harboring criminals could get you in trouble for a long time. None of these men and women will ever be allowed to work in the city. They'll be hunted down until the Society detains them once more and returns them to Hightower."

I sucked my teeth as he talked. "You think I care about the law? Tell your new inspector, Neal fucking Caldwell, if he wants anyone in my Row, he'll have to come through me."

"Which is why we'll bargain with you this once," he hissed. "We'll pardon the crimes of your family, as well as everyone on this train."

Murmurs started amongst the descendants, humming like flies attracted to shit. Which was exactly what I thought about the integrity of this deal. "I'm assuming you will absolve us all our sins if I hand over the key."

"Exactly."

"Burn in Oblivion."

The men behind him assumed a more active position, holding their guns defensively. "We are leaving here with the key, Attano. Either give her to us, or we'll pry her from your cold, dead hand. There is an easy way and a more difficult one, and I think your people would like you to reconsider your choice."

From the yearn in their stares, his assessment was accurate. The way this guard tried to manipulate me into doing the right thing was amusing, spreading a slow smile across my face. My hand clenched at my side. "Unfortunately, I already promised someone I love I would not be a good man today. Don't bother appealing to my heart, watchman. I assure you, it's not in this car."

The room took a collective breath. They didn't understand why keeping Milla from them was so important, must have assumed I just thought with my cock like Regulus had mentioned—and they turned on me. One by one, their trusting looks had turned to sideways glares, but if the stragglers from the Continent were any indication, Milla's remnant was important to keep guarded from the city and the alchemist that ran it.

And—more simply put—Camilla was mine.

"Suit yourself," he said, sounding indifferent. He pointed his gun in my direction, and I braced myself for the weight of the lead.

"Nico, let me in!"

Milla's voice.

The guards forgot about the descendants altogether, lunging toward the barricade behind me. I threw myself at one of them, shouted at the men and women in the car to help me stop them. But I had lost their loyalty by choosing Milla over their lives, and they wouldn't forget anytime soon.

"Hold him down."

One of them pinned my active arm behind my back and shoved me to my knees. A second jammed his gun into my temple, threatening to finish me if I dared make another move. I gnashed my teeth as the other two guards moved the rubble from the door, clearing it free.

When I saw her standing on the other side, I shut my eyes, trying to will away her image.

She was still there when I looked again, aiming a gun at the first guard. "Tell your men to stand down, let the descendants go free, and I'll do whatever you want."

The watchman scoffed behind his mask. "At least you can see reason, unlike your husband."

"A man who wants everything is never good at negotiating." She lowered her weapon slightly, still avoiding my attention. Where the hells were her brothers? Why had Aramis let her out, hadn't talked her out of this?

And what was she wearing?

Her body was draped in men's clothes, with a large shirt sagging into pants pulled high over her hips and a belt cinched around her waist. Without further argument, she handed her weapon to the watchman, who allowed her to pass and come to me. With my arm still pinned behind my back and the barrel of the guard's gun still an inch from my temple, I couldn't return her embrace as she draped graceful arms around my neck.

"Milla, what are you doing?" I seethed. My anger was unfocused, not directed at her, but was lashing, nonetheless.

She brushed her lips over the shell of my ear. "Finishing what Sera started. Watch those blonde bastards."

My body went rigid. She pulled back to look at me, the brown in her eyes too muddy, not enough golden green. Her form kissed me hard then, a strange, aggressive approach that contrasted her usual softness.

"Not bad, Attano," Regulus said as he pretended to be Milla, wiping her bottom lip with a thumb.

How had he avoided the gas? Then I remembered, he went out for a smoke. He must have somehow avoided the whole thing entirely. My shock wore off enough to warn him. "You know what they'll do to you."

Regulus nodded, though I noticed a flinch tighten his jaw.

"That's enough," the leader of the watchmen spoke. "Get her down the ropes. We need to get out of these cursed Wilds before daylight runs out."

With that, the man holding the gun to my head snatched Regulus by the waist and threw Milla's form over his shoulder, winking at me before he walked them both out. "Should we glint her before we go?"

The guard shook his head. "All the cars were gassed. Don't waste anymore until we get back to the city. The dose should hold her for a while."

The group left, calling to their comrades in the next car to clear out. I watched them go with Regulus in tow, knowing full well they'd kill him as soon as the next glint dose was due. He wouldn't be able to hide the identity for long, but he'd given us time to get the hells back to the Row, where we were all safe again.

As soon as they were gone, I bolted back to the Marchese family car, ignoring my cousin's shouts as he called for me.