Page 29 of The Mech Who Loved Me
The steam cab idled at the curb, and Kincaid glanced out the window. Saved by their arrival. He twitched a brow at her, then opened the door and stepped out. A shadow rippled over them, and he looked up to find a dirigible passing overhead. London was taking to the skies, gathering steam with the rest of Europe. About bloody time. France apparently had fields of airships, and if not for the heavy English dreadnoughts that patrolled the channel, they'd have sent their fleet north a dozentimes.
"The vaccination clinic." Ava's gaze slid past him as he helped her down. In the sunlight, her skin seemed creamy and glowing with excitement. "Hopefully we can find someanswershere."
He loved the way the thought of an answer to her questions made her flush with life. Only Ava would be practically dancing on her toes at the idea of getting her hands on the vaccine clinics. Kincaid paid the driver, and then headed for the door. "How are we going toplaythis?"
She withdrew something from within her reticule. "I still have my Nighthawks credentials. They'll have to answer myquestions."
"And what do you want metodo?"
"Perhaps try to look broody and menacing," she threw over her shoulder. "It shouldn't be difficult. That's what some of the otherNighthawksdo."
Bloody woman. Hesmiled.
Kincaid tucked the collar up on his shirt. Being intimidating came naturally to him, but sometimes he wished there was something else he could do. He had no book smarts, like Ava did, but when it came to working with his hands and creating a mech device, that was where his talentsshone.
Not quite talents required for a spy. Sometimes he wondered what Malloryn had been thinking when the duke had offered himthejob.
Ava entered the clinic, the bell above the door tinkling, and there was nothing for it but to follow. The foyer was stark and decorated with painted timber signs advertising what the vaccine did, and carefully printed pamphlets on the small tables.Protect your family from the craving virus.The clinics were government owned, which made people a little wary of them, but with the virus easily transmitted by blood, and no longer a province of the Echelon, it was easier than ever to beinfected.
Once upon a time, only aristocratic families were allowed to be made into blue bloods, with each noble son going through the Blood Rites at the age of fifteen to see whether he'd be “worthy” of receiving such an elitist boon. Women had been strictly forbidden from receiving it, which made him wonder about Ava's past, but then accidentsoccurred.
But where had she come into contact with a blue blood? She was clearly a virgin, so it wasn't as though she'd served as some rich lord's blood thrall. A flash of something hot went through him at the thought—the idea of Ava giving up either her flesh or blood rights to a nobleman in exchange for protection and a rich life made him want to punchsomething.
"Good afternoon," Ava greeted the receptionist, flashing a small leather badge with a striking hawk embossed upon it in steel. "I'm Miss Ava McLaren of the Nighthawks. I'm here to ask some questions about a crime I'm investigating with my partner, Mr.Kincaid."
The receptionist blanched, her arms half-slung through her cardigan. "A crime? I'm not quite certain how we canhelpbut—"
"Is the clinic doctoronduty?"
"Aye, ma'am. We were both just finishing up for the day. I can seeifhe's—"
"Tell him we'd like to talk to him," Kincaid interrupted, leaning on the counter and staring at the older woman. "It's officialbusiness."
Ava rapped her fingers on the counter as the woman scurried off, and then picked up one of the pamphlets on the vaccine. "Side effects," she read, "include a fever, a rash, sensitivity to light, and a headache. Please see a doctor if symptoms persist beyond afewdays."
"No black veins?" It would betooeasy.
"No internal bleeding." Ava put thepamphletback.
The door opened. "This way, sir. Miss. Dr. Harricks has a few minutes to see you." The receptionist ushered them through into the clinic, then raised her voice. "Cheerio, Dr. Harricks. I'll see youtomorrow."
She closed the door behindherself.
The examining room was private and painted a relaxing blue. A gentleman dressed in a tweed suit cleaned his glasses in the corner, his hair neatly combed. "Good afternoon," he said politely, his gaze sweeping over them, then doubling back to Ava with a hint of male appreciation. "I'm Dr. Harricks, the clinic specialist. How may Ihelpyou?"
A service automaton swept patiently in the corner, steam hissing from its vents as it worked its way around the room. Needed servicing by the lookofit.
"A Mr. David Thomas was a patient of this clinic six weeks ago," Ava started, as Kincaid strolled around the room, glancing at the clean counters and meticulous files. She flipped through her folder. "He was found two days ago, dead in his parlor from internal bleeding and ruptured internal organs. The preliminary autopsy showed he was several weeks into the metamorphosis stage of the craving virus, with CV levels of 12 percent. I wanted to confirm whether Mr. Thomas received avaccinationhere."
Dr. Harricks looked surprised, and then he turned to one of his cabinets. "Thomas... Thomas.... It sounds familiar, though I cannot recall a face. I receive dozens of patients through hereeachday."
"The vaccine is popular?" Kincaid asked, as Harricks flicked through his files and withdrew a slimfolder.
"Increasingly," the doctor replied absently. "I'm booked out two months in advance these days. With more and more blue bloods swimming through the general population, people fear for theirchildren."
"The craving virus is becoming more prevalent in the general population?" Avaasked.
"I'm not quite certain whether it's spreading now the legislation against unapproved infections has been lifted," the doctor admitted, "or whether blue bloods have always been there. They were put on a register when the prince consort was in power, and some were hunted and executed, depending upon how they became infected—it was supposed to be restricted to the Echelon, yes? But some slipped beneath notice, and I suspect in the last few years, now the law against casual infection has been changed, they're not hiding as much as they used to. Or at least, theyweren't."
