The Miss Education of Dr. Exeter by Jillian Stone Page B

perched on the edge of the railcar, like some strange bird with ragged wings, an amorphous mass of dark metallic fibers merged together, then whipped apart. He took a step forward and the strange entity dispersed into the buffeting winds with a hiss and an eerie, high-pitched wail. A banshee’s moan.
    A few scattered raindrops fell on his cheeks; the storm had passed. Not far ahead, rays of sunshine slanted through a break in cloud cover. Exeter lowered himself down the side of the railcar and slipped back inside their compartment.
    “What did you see?” Mia sat beside America, who was wide awake and curious, having slept through the initial disturbance.
    He shrugged. “Not much, I’m afraid—a glimpse at something odd wearing a ragged cloak of tangled fibers. The tattered threads made hissing noises. Whatever it was—it’s gone.” He shut the compartment door and turned back to the young women.
    “Reapers make hissing noises.” America’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “Prospero knows we’re coming.”

Chapter Eight
    “A STRONG STEEP OF E NGLISH TEA , and I shall be restored.” Mia curled up in a comfortable corner of the settee and stirred a lump of sugar into her Earl Grey.
    Their brief voyage across the channel had gone smoothly and uneventfully. Exeter had spent most of the hour’s journey speaking in low tones with Jersey and Valentine, while she and America enjoyed a brisk walk around the deck.
    The moment they stepped foot in Calais, they were greeted by a cloudburst and had made a mad dash to L’Hôtel Meurice. Their suite turned out to be wonderfully inviting and would be a comfortable place to rest and regroup while they waited for the train to Paris.
    Mia sipped her tea and sighed. “Out with it—You three have been conspiring ever since the Princess Beatrice left Dover Harbor.”
    “Prospero toys with us. It’s the only explanation for why he might send such an apparition.” Jersey popped a delicate tea sandwich in his mouth and chewed with such purpose, it caused her to grin.
    “Yes, well, thank goodness we don’t terrify easily.” Mia’s smile dimmed somewhat at her next thought. “I suppose this means those snippets of Phaeton were a deliberate transmission?”
    “A lure from the start. He wants us in Paris.” Exeter’s jaw was flexing.
    America leaned forward, clearly alarmed. “We’re not calling off the mission. No matter what, I’m going ahead—”
    “We are proceeding as planned, but doubling the guard on you, America. As soon as Noggy has the portal ready, we’ll bring over Cutter and Ruby.”
    Mia bit her lower lip. “Cutter and Ruby are needed to care for Gaspar—as well as Lovecraft’s son.”
    “What about Mr. Ping?” America offered. “He knows many of the secrets of the Moonstone and is a powerful jinni.”
    “I have sent urgent cables to the four corners. Hopefully, he will meet us in Paris.” Exeter groused. “I had hoped we might get a few days to ourselves—scout the catacombs, start formulating some ideas about where Prospero’s lair might be—whether it’s in our time or some future realm.”
    Mia loved watching the wheels turn in Exeter’s brain. She sampled a smoked trout deviled egg and wrinkled her nose. “I imagine there is an alternate Paris, just as there is an alternate London.”
    “There is also the matter of an exhaustive and expensive shopping excursion.” Mia looked up from the platter of delicacies and found him staring at her—and not in the way she was used to her guardian viewing his charge. His gaze sent a tingle running from her breasts to her womb. Something in his eyes spoke of secret kisses and velvet touches, and suddenly she knew. He was remembering last night.
    The woman inside Mia met his gaze and held it. “I very much look forward to spending a vulgar amount of your worth at the House of Worth.”
    Exeter’s mouth slowly curved upward. “I’m quite sure the results will be—well worth the