Free The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen by Kevin J. Anderson Page B

reached a window on the floor beneath the attic.
He threw open the sash and stuck his head out, hoping to catch sight of his
quarry. He saw debris still falling, broken boards, loose shingles, dust, and
shards of glass. Far below, there was only a fogbound dock and empty
streets.
    And no sign of the Fantom at all.

NINE
Dorian
Gray's Residence
    In the aftermath of the fight, Nemo checked for survivors among the bodies
strewn in the library. He moved methodically from man to man, ears cocked for a
groan of pain—though it wasn't clear from the grim set of his face whether he
intended to succor or execute any of the Fantom's men he found alive.
    One severely wounded marksman looked up into Nemo's angry face and fierce
black eyes and died with a sudden whimper, before the black-bearded captain
could even check his injuries. Nemo was neither pleased nor disappointed.
    Taking care of important business, Skinner finished applying fresh
greasepaint over his features. He donned his dark-lensed pince-nez spectacles
over the empty craters of his eyes, shrugged on his long-sleeved coat, then
carefully tugged his hat over the hollow top and back of his head.
    Though he was completely visible now, Skinner still managed to startle Dorian
Gray out of his preoccupied thoughts. "Heh, Mr. Gray! And I thought I was
special. You're invulnerable to harm."
    "And also invulnerable to the sands of time, if indeed you're older than
Quatermain," Nemo mused, looking up from another victim on the library floor.
"As we were discussing before our unexpected interruption." The captains
implacable expression demanded answers, but their host was not forthcoming.
    "I don't like to boast," Gray said dismissively. He frowned at the numerous
punctures and bullet holes in his fine smoking jacket; he seemed unsettled, even
disappointed. "By the way, what happened to Mina?"
    A fuming Allan Quatermain returned with heavy footsteps to the main library
chamber. Without a word, he tucked his revolver into his interior jacket pocket.
"She's probably hip-deep in some kind of peril. Expecting us to rescue her, no
doubt."
    Mina reappeared, her auburn hair perfectly in place. She casually brushed at
a few small blood spatters on the colorful fabric of her dress. "Oh, don't be
such an old alarmist, Mr. Q. And my hips are none of your business."
    She sensed someone behind her, but before she could turn, one of the last
marksmen lurched out of an alcove. Although he knew he was outnumbered and
trapped, all of his fellows slain, the Fantom gone, the marksman grabbed Mina
with a powerful grip and held her before him as if she were a shield. He rammed
a gleaming knife within a hair's breadth of her pale throat. The silk scarf she
always wore would offer no protection from the sharpened steel.
    Quatermain drew his revolver, and Nemo dropped into a fighting stance, while
the invisible man froze in the process of pouring himself another drink. Faster
than any of them, though, the mysterious young imposter leaped down from the
upper levels of the library. His boots slammed on the floor with a crack like
thunder. He aimed his flamboyant Winchester at the marksman's face. "Let 'er go,
Mister, or I'll shoot ya!"
    Cornered, the Fantoms' marksman had nothing to lose. "Shoot! Go on! I'll kill
her on reflex!" The hand that held the knife twitched against the hollow of
Mina's throat, and she remained very still. Her head lolled forward, obscuring
her face. Her hair fell into disarray.
    In the frozen standoff, the young imposter lowered his Winchester. Nemo
remained tense, but took a step backward to a safer, nonthreatening distance.
Quatermain lowered his revolver with an angry sigh. "I told you from the
beginning she'd be trouble."
    The cornered marksman fairly crowed with triumph. "I guessed as much! They'd
do anything to protect you." He cinched his muscular arm tight around her narrow
waist.
    "That's your biggest mistake., sir," Mina said in a