Constantine Capers: The Pennington Perplexity Natalie Brianne (best summer reads of all time .txt) 📖

her way out from under her, gasping, and frantically looked around for the gun. She spied it by Byron’s foot. She pulled herself up to standing, staggering and nearly falling. Her whole body ached, and her head and neck bled. She used the wall for support and moved over to Byron. He was at a standstill with Sam, pushing back and forth again. Byron’s foot kicked the pistol closer to her as he dodged under Sam’s arm. She stumbled for the gun, bending down. Her weight was pulled out from under her as Joe grabbed her ankle and brought her crashing to the ground. She stretched for the gun, just out of reach as he pulled her back. Boot cracked against jaw as she kicked him squarely in the face and struggled away. She grabbed the gun just in time to see the Shadow recovering to come for her again. She stood, and futilely cocked the gun, aiming, knowing there wasn’t a bullet, but trying just the same. She pulled the trigger.

A shot reverberated through the room, and the Shadow fell to the floor clutching her shoulder in pain. Mira looked at the gun and then back to where Byron and Sam fought. Sam lay unconscious on the ground. Byron stood near his coat in the entryway, holding his own pistol out. He breathed heavily. He saw her, a look of relief passing over his face, and stumbled over to her. Mira collapsed onto the floor, catching her breath. She started to shake, and then the tears came. Quiet, and soft, but still there. A pained moaning sound came from one of the remaining conscious members of Circe. Byron came and scooped her up in his arms. His eyes studied her tear-stained face.

She felt certain she was bruised from head to toe, blood clotting in the hair on the back of her neck. Her lip was split, and there were fingermarks on her neck. Her head ached as she tried to read Byron’s face. She rested her head on his chest and heard his heartbeat. She finally relaxed.

“I’m sorry about your parents. She had no right to be so cruel.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m glad to finally know the truth.” A few more tears escaped. He held her closer to him. All she wanted to do was sleep. He kissed her forehead and brought her over to the couch, setting her down.

“Thank you for coming,” his voice came, soft and loving. He gently brushed the tears away. She smiled and nodded, melting into the couch, breath returning to normal.

She jumped as the door was kicked in from the outside. Six policemen filed into the room, pistols at the ready. Seeing the scene, they pointed them all at the only person left standing: Byron. He put his hands in the air. Mira looked around at the carnage. Broken table. Curtains pulled from the windows. Books strewn on the floor. Blood from various bodies in blotches and patches. She closed her eyes. This did not look good. Then she heard a familiar voice.

“Constantine! What in blazes is going on here!”

“Chief Inspector Thatcher. You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

Byron sat on the ground in front of the couch, finally able to relax.

“Would you care to explain?”

“This was formerly a meeting of the Order of Circe. You know? The one I’ve been telling you about for years?”

“Yes. The one that by every account doesn’t exist.” Thatcher lowered his gun. Byron groaned and painfully stood, walking over to the Shadow. He crouched down and tore her necklace from her. Her growl turned to a pained whimper as she finally accepted defeat. He brought it back over to the inspector.

“Exhibit A. This is their symbol. I would venture to guess that something similar is on all of them.” He looked around. “One of them is missing.”

“The one called Angelica went out the back. I doubt she went far, and I have a description for you, Inspector. A picture, too, if the post hurries up.” Mira sat up and immediately regretted it as her head exploded in an aching pain.

The chief inspector snapped, and several constables ran out the back. The inspector turned his attention to the Shadow. “That still doesn’t explain all of this, Constantine.”

“That woman over there is your murderer. She’s a mercenary that goes by the name of the Shadow. Recently her alias has been Molly Bridges. She was hired by the Order to kill Clement Pennington in order to get the blueprints.” Byron furrowed his brow.

“Where did the blueprints go?” He moved to the remains of the coffee table and kicked some debris out of the way to search.

Mira’s stomach sunk. “Angelica. The sister. She must have taken them. She is the one that left by the back entrance during the fight.”

“So that’s Molly Bridges, eh?”

“Yes. These men are involved with the smuggling. And I or Mira can fill you in on everything else tomorrow. For now, I need to get her home.”

“I’ll take care of things here, then. You heard him lads, arrest the lot of them.”

The officers quickly apprehended each of them and led them out to the police wagon. The Shadow managed a glare at Mira and Byron before she was taken out of sight.

Byron watched the police leave. Once they were gone, he moved to the couch and pulled Mira to standing, putting his coat around her. When she stumbled after a few steps, he scooped her up and placed his journal in her lap. She closed her eyes and relaxed into him again, holding the journal close to her. She felt his steady steps moving towards the door and then the chill of the cold night air against her skin. He walked to the street and managed to hail a carriage down. He set her gently in the seat and told the driver to take them to Palace Court.

“I thought you were taking me home,” she said.

“Let’s get you cleaned up a bit before