Indigo & Iris: A Steampunk Urban Fantasy (Clockwork Phoenix Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Front Matter Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Sign up for my Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Back Matter

  Author's Note

  Allison's Adventures in Underland Cover

  Spirited Cover

  Elements of Mischief Cover

  Possessed

  Pack Ebon Red Cover

  Pack Ebon Red Chapter One

  Keep Up With The Fun

  More Books By C.M. Stunich

  About the Author

  Yeah, so, my twin sister's trying to kill me over a magic spyglass that opens up a portal to another world.

  To add insult to injury, I just walked in and found her fucking my now soon-to-be ex-husband.

  Then there's this guy named Lynx who wears trench coats, shoots from the hip, and has a massive crush on me. He showed up out of nowhere, tried to assassinate me, and now he won't stop following me around. Pretty sure I hate him, but that's a matter for another day.

  This steampunk-nightmare bullshit that's become my life, I could do without.

  Hi, I'm Indigo Lewis, and if you like talking cats (with bad attitudes), golden trains that ferry folks between worlds, and alternate dimensions that run on cogs, gears, and magic ... then you're as crazy as the rest of these assholes. Read my story, see what you think. Maybe I'm as mad as you are?

  Indigo & Iris

  Indigo & Iris © C.M. Stunich 2012

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 89365 Old Mohawk Rd, Springfield, OR 97478.

  www.cmstunich.com

  Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal

  The The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  to Sarah,

  the best 'imaginary friend' a girl could have

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  When I came home, I found my husband cheating – with me. Or with my twin rather.

  I whipped out my pistol and pointed it at the back of her head. “Get … off … now … ” I snarled through gritted teeth. Her blonde curls wisped across my cheek as she spun, a knife in hand. Considering she was completely nude, the hidden blade was quite the feat. She and I circled, feet brushing against the woolen rug on my bedroom floor. She smiled and balanced the knife on a finger.

  “Do you even want to know where I was hiding it?” she asked me, lunging and catching the side of my wrist as I spun away from her. I hissed as the sharp pain raced up my arm, but I didn't drop the gun. Not that I was really willing to use it on her.

  My husband was sitting up, blanket pulled across his rapidly declining erection as he looked from me to her and back to me again. “What the – ?” I grabbed the antique clock from the armoire and kissed it lightly goodbye before throwing it at my sister's head.

  “You fucking cunt,” I growled as she ducked and the clock went sailing through the open window. “How did you find me?” She grinned at me and lunged again; this time, I was ready. I grabbed her around the waist with one arm and grasped her arm with the other, using her momentum to spin us around and slammed her into the wall. I pinned her there, sweat trailing down the sides of my face as she struggled against me, still smiling. “Get me some rope, Aiden, fuck.” I slammed my knee into her crotch. She grunted but didn't stop struggling.

  “Do it again,” she whispered, licking the side of my face as I jerked back from her, losing my hold. She thrust the knife at my midsection as I flung myself to the side, missing the blade by less than an inch.

  “Aiden!” I screeched. He had scrambled out of bed and was standing on the opposite side of the room, face twisted with confusion. “Aiden!” He wasn't moving, frozen with indecision. I suppose the subject of my having a twin should have come up sooner between us. But it didn't. She was my secret half. My secret, demented, twisted half.

  I lifted the gun and pointed it at her again. She laughed and came at me, naked and bold, white teeth reflecting the afternoon sun. I aimed it at her knee and pressed the trigger. The bullet went wide, missing her completely, and exploded into my grandmother's settee. “Goddamn it.” I ran my wrist across my forehead and watched as the corners of her mouth drooped.

  “You're serious, okay,” was all she said as she dropped the knife and held up her hands. “It's the only weapon I've got.”

  “Get some fucking rope!” I snapped at Aiden. “Now.” He just stood there, his lack of action infuriating me.

  “What the fuck is going on?” he said in a strangled voice. It was then that I noticed the trickle of liquid glinting on my sister's thigh. It could've just been from all of the … excitement, but then, if I'd learned one thing about her from sharing a childhood, it was that she could take a bad situation and make it worse. I turned the gun on Aiden.

  “Did you come inside of her?” I yelled, voice cracking. Aiden just blinked back at me and didn't respond. “What the hell?” Aiden dropped the blanket and backed up against the wall, hands in the air, surrendering.

  “You – she – whatever, said that she wanted a baby!” he stuttered looking between me holding a shaking pistol, pointed at his head, and her, licking her lips and rubbing her breasts.

  “And you believed her!” I screeched, firing several rounds as close to his head as I could without maiming or murdering him (although at that moment, I wanted to). “Get some fucking rope!”

  He did and the three of us ended up in the kitchen. The atmosphere was tense and uncomfortable.

  I tried to focus on the pink carnations in the blue and white Ming vase that I never liked while Aiden made some coffee. He was pissed; I could tell from the stiffness in his shoulders and the way he slammed the mugs onto the counter. I was pissed, too, and I had a right to be. He had cheated on me. With me. I rubbed my temples and tried not to scream. My twin stared at me across the tabletop, mouth curved to the side in some freakish semblance of an actual smile. She had a tendency of doing that. Of turning some normal, human emotion into something disturbing. It was one of the many, many things that I hated about her.

  “What do you want?” I finally asked, drawing Aiden's attention away from the bubbling coffee maker and back to the two of us. Indigo and Iris. My father had a thing for alliteration. Iris' expression didn't change as she answered.

  “Just Mother's spyglass. Give it to me and I promise, I'm gone.” The cadence of her voice was light, flowery, manipulative. I was just g
lad that she was tied up. I avoided her eyes by locking onto Aiden's. He still looked angry, but sorry, too. I felt bad for him. Kind of. If I had told him about my twin, maybe …

  “What if you get pregnant?” I asked her and unsure of her sexual habits, continued with, “What if he gets a disease?” Iris laughed, blonde curls bouncing as she shook her head from side to side. Aiden hadn't even thought to wonder why the woman he was fucking had curly, blonde hair instead of straight, black. I didn't know what she'd told him, or if he'd even given it a second thought. I felt my temper flare and pulled the LadySmith on her again. I pressed the metal into her forehead and fought the urge to keep my finger from twitching. Tears stung my eyes as I fought back an overwhelming surge of jealously and hatred. Why me?

  “Indigo!” she chortled, eyes wide. “I thought you liked kids!” Her laughter enraged me and I swung the arm with the gun in it against the vase. It didn't break, just spilled water and pink petals across the Formica tabletop and rolled onto the rug in front of the kitchen sink. Iris' face went still, mouth open, and she stared at me like I was the crazy one. Aiden opened his mouth to speak and I silenced him with a look. I guess I should have mentioned that I'd changed my name from Indigo to Taryn.

  “You tawdry, little slut!” I screeched, reaching over and grabbing the front of the T-shirt I had forced her to put on. “Don't fucking fuck with me!” I pointed the shaking revolver at her face again. She leaned forward and put her lips over the barrel, sucking it into her mouth and swirling her tongue around the metal. I pulled the LadySmith away from her and whirled around; Aiden tried to touch my shoulder. Big mistake. I turned the gun on him next. “Don't touch me. Don't follow me.” I stomped and raged my way to the front door, scaring the hell out of our dog, Poe, before realizing I had left one very important point unsaid. I took several shallow breaths and put the pistol away. Aiden hadn't moved from his spot next to the counter and Iris was humming “Ring Around the Rosie” under her breath. I stopped in the doorway and spoke quietly and firmly.

  “No matter what happens, do not untie her.”

  I don't know why I left. In retrospect, it was a really, really bad idea. When I pulled my car into the driveway, my house was on fire. It wasn't obvious until I opened the front door. The smoke was just beginning to waft out from the guest bedroom. I dropped the bag of groceries on the floor; the six pack I had purchased to preserve my sanity exploded in a burst of bubbles and foam as I rushed through the living room and flung the door open. The flames were dancing across my mother's quilt like little ballerinas, twisting and blackening the fibers as they went. I pulled my cell phone from my back pocket and dialed 911. Before I could hit send however, I felt the cold prick of a knife on my throat. Iris draped herself over my shoulders and licked my ear.

  “Where is it, Indigo?” I tensed my muscles but gasped as the blade bit into my skin. The rush of warm blood down my jugular made me pause. “That's all I want. If you give it to me, I'll leave. I promise.” She plucked the phone from my hand and tossed it onto the floor.

  “Where's Aiden?” I gasped, trying not to tremble. I couldn't play her game. I couldn't. That would get me killed. Iris laughed, hand sliding up my side and pulling my gun from its holster.

  “He's a good fuck, Indigo. No wonder you decided to leave me for him. Maybe I'll take him with me to teach you a lesson?” The flames were getting taller and the smoke more intense. I tried not to cough; I didn't want to slit my own throat, but it was hard not to. Luckily, Iris released me and stepped back, pointing my own weapon at me. “Tell me where the spyglass is and you can have your phone back. Maybe you can save the house?”

  “I sold it.” Iris giggled and then smacked me in the face with the gun. My head exploded in white as I collapsed against the door frame. A new trickle of blood made its way down past my temple. As luck would have it, the effects of the smoke chose that moment to hit me. I began to cough, slumping to the floor as each little movement made my ears ring. The spyglass. It was the one and only thing my father had ever asked of me. Keep the spyglass safe. I didn't even know why. But he was dead and I couldn't ask. It didn't seem so important anymore.

  “Give her the spyglass.” It was Aiden, standing to the left of the front door, a suitcase next to his feet. I couldn't even begin to decipher what was going on. He was unharmed, just standing there, while our house burned and my sister held a gun on me.

  “What … Aiden?” My voice sounded foggy and faraway. Iris leaned down and spoke to me. Her rounded lips moved slowly, forming words that I wasn't hearing. My eyes fluttered closed and I passed out.

  “It suits her, you know,” said the first voice, high and nasally. “Burning to death.”

  “She didn't burn to death!” remarked the second voice angrily. “It was the smoke inhalation that got to her first.” I opened my eyes slowly, warily. Where the fuck was I? I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn't move.

  “At least she kept the spyglass. Can you imagine if Iris had gotten a hold of it? There would never be the same again.”

  “Truly.”

  “Absolutely.” I was staring at a drop ceiling, white popcorn tiles and fluorescent lights glared back at me.

  “Where am I?” I thought the words, but they didn't come out. My mouth wouldn't move. A woman leaned over me, skin a pale shade of amber and eyes like a goat's, rectangular pupils surrounded by white.

  “Poor thing,” she cooed, hand stroking back my hair. “But don't worry, this won't hurt a bit.” She held out a long, curved needle. The golden tip seemed to glow as she licked a piece of string and threaded it. Hurt? I felt the first surges of panic. What was she planning to do with that?

  “Let's get this over with quickly, shall we? I'm having tea with the Colonel. I wouldn't want to be late,” the first voice replied from somewhere outside my field of vision.

  “Of course not,” the lady with the needle soothed as she smiled at me. “And we can't keep this poor thing waiting anymore, now can we?” She reached down and pushed my eyelids closed. I tried to scream, but no sound escaped my throat. “This won't hurt a bit … ”

  I woke with a start, head still pounding. I was lying in the grass in my backyard. Birds were chirping and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. Poe was lying in the grass next to me, tail wagging as he gazed up at me, brown eyes worried. I reached a hand out and stroked his head.

  “I'm okay, boy.” I tried to stand up, but my vision went spinning in a million different directions and I ended up on my ass. “I think.” I rubbed the side of my head and found dried blood. There were no sirens, no signs of smoke, and no Iris. I pushed myself up again and this time, I was successful. Poe rose and ran to the sliding glass doors, looking back at me, tail still wagging, begging to be let in. I walked slowly, trying to focus on a single, fixed point ahead of me. Thankfully, the door was unlocked. I didn't think that I could have made it around to the front.

  The house was still smoky and I was surprised that none of the neighbors had called the fire department. I checked the guest bedroom first. The bed was a collapsed mess of charred wood and twisted metal, but there weren't any active flames. The ceiling throughout the living room was blackened and many of the pictures on the walls had melted inside their frames. I walked slowly, careful not to make too much noise. I didn't know if she was still here. I found the LadySmith on the counter with a note.

  “Don't worry, I'll be back for you. Love, Iris.” I crumpled the paper in my hand and threw it into the trash. I re-holstered the gun and leaned my elbows onto the counter, trying to think. Where the fuck was Aiden? I almost didn't care after what I'd seen. How could he just stand there and watch her hit me like that? Okay, so we'd been having problems lately. That didn't give him the right to take her side over mine. I patted Poe's head and forced a smile.

  I hadn't wanted a yellow Labrador; I'd wanted a rottweiler, but Aiden had insisted. I was certain it was all a part of his inner need for 'normal.' Whatever that was. “I guess we better go find h
im.” Not that I really thought he was going to be there. But I had to check on the spyglass anyway. I took the stairs slowly, trying to keep from throwing up. I thought about going to a hospital, but I didn't want to explain. Iris was hard to explain to most people. I still couldn't believe she'd found me. I'd gone to a lot of trouble to make sure she wouldn't.

  The master bedroom was still in disarray after our morning tussle, but the spyglass was where I'd left it. Apparently, Iris had been in a hurry to leave because she hadn't even bothered to search the place. The old copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland held the wooden case in a cutout in its center. It wasn't the most creative hiding place in the world, but then again, it wasn't a very valuable spyglass. I'd had it appraised before, but it wasn't anything special.

  I pulled the case out and the set the book back on the shelf. When I snapped the lid open, the little tube lay glistening in a sea of burgundy velvet. I lifted it out, replaced the box, and extended the four segments until the spyglass was as long as my arm. Gleaming mahogany wrapped pure brass, leaving small bands visible at the ends of each tube. I held it up to my eye and tried to lock onto my neighbor's window across the street. All I saw was black. Maybe I wasn't doing it right? But then, the man at the auctioneers hadn't had much luck with it either and he was a self proclaimed expert in telescopes. He'd hemmed and hawed over it for several moments before asking in a gruff voice, “May I?” and then without waiting for an answer, placed it over his right eye and clucked under his breath. “Achromatic lenses,” he'd said, spinning it around in his hands. “Refractor design with a helical focusing ring.” He'd closed it and laid it back in its case, rubbing his small, patchy beard. “I can probably fix it,” he'd continued while I'd stood there, arms crossed and mouth set in a tight line. “I'll give you a hundred bucks for it.”