The Clockwork Heart Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Book Details

  Dedication

  The Clockwork Heart

  About the Author

  The

  Clockwork

  Heart

  Lilliana Rose

  Haunted by a past lover and left with scars so deep Libby gave up her life as an explorer, she spends her days trying to avoid bad memories by training ruthlessly with Helen, the woman she hired to teach her self-defense. Helen is beautiful, appealing, and could be what Libby needs to climb out of her past once and for all.

  Until the past returns and threatens to destroy Libby, and all that she holds dear, once and for all.

  Book Details

  The Clockwork Heart

  By Lilliana Rose

  Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Addison Moore

  Cover designed by Aisha Akeju

  This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  First Edition March 2015

  Copyright © 2015 by Lilliana Rose

  Printed in the United States of America

  Digital ISBN 9781620044902

  To my crit group, Hiro's Ink

  for the valuable advice, support and sharing the writer's journey

  The Clockwork Heart

  Libby flopped back onto the pillow. "Let's do that again." Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

  "Get into position then," said Helen, standing over her.

  Libby groaned as she sat up and pushed a black strand of hair from her face. She stared at Helen, who looked like she had hardly exerted herself. How does she do it? Her own skin glistened with sweat from the session. Her body ached, but she was determined to keep going and push herself further.

  "Come on." Helen held out her hand.

  Libby brushed it away and stood up on her own, stumbling back a few steps before regaining her balance.

  "Ready?" asked Helen.

  Libby answered with a roundhouse kick to Helen's toned belly. Helen deflected with an arm block, then attacked her with a series of quick kicks. Libby ducked, taking on a defensive stance while she waited for an opening to fight back. Helen dropped her arm to keep her balance, and Libby took the advantage by executing a punch, followed by a snap kick, forcing Helen backwards.

  "Now I'm getting the hang of it." Libby increased her speed but before she could work out what had happened she was falling backwards into the pillows. Despite the soft landing air was pushed from her lungs and a jolt shuddered through her body.

  "Enough," Libby gasped. She lay on the white training pillows, breathing hard. She loosened the top buttons of her skin-tight leather vest to make it easier to breathe.

  "Pushing you is part of the training," Helen said. Her voice held a crisp English accent despite living in Australia for the last five years.

  "I know." Libby didn't talk about what had happened. Her experiences kept her silent. There had been too many fights, and too many risks that had left her with physical and mental scars. Things didn't always go to plan when retrieving artefacts, but what had happened with Scarlett was something else. The old nightmare began to wake in her mind…

  "Let me help you." Helen's words jolted her out of the memory. Helen held out her hand.

  Libby groaned, her body protesting having to move to stand. Helen tightened her grip, supporting Libby. The touch of her skin sent a new sensation of fire within Libby.

  "Maybe you shouldn't train so hard every day," Helen said.

  "I have to." Libby looked at her trainer. Helen's blonde hair was tied back in a bun. A few strands of hair had come loose, but she looked composed despite the heavy training session. Libby didn't need to be told what she looked like now. A mess. Sweat dripped from the ends of her hair, rolling down her soft leather training gear. Libby peeled off her leather gloves and threw them on the floor.

  "But you've improved so much since you started training with me." Helen stopped speaking as Libby glared at her.

  "I still have things to learn." Libby's dark stare silenced Helen. She didn't want this conversation leading to the nightmare that she was struggling to keep out of her mind.

  Helen's shoulders slumped as she turned away. Guilt stabbed at Libby's heart. She didn't mean to be so abrupt with Helen. She watched Helen move gracefully cross the square room; her footsteps were silent on the wooden floor and her hips moved in a mesmerising motion. Helen stirred something inside of her that she was scared to follow. Yet she couldn't take her eyes away from her trainer. Helen picked up a tray of neatly rolled towels and returned to the centre of the room, stepping over the pillows they had used to soften the falls during the training session. A new heat flushed on Libby's cheeks. She grabbed a towel and wiped her face quickly not wanting Helen to see how she really felt. She'd kept her heart locked against future hurt because of the memories. She didn't want to be reminded of the nightmare. Libby threw the damp towel on the ground, fighting to keep the memories from surfacing.

  Helen held out a glass of iced water. A slice of lemon bobbed on the top of the liquid. That's what I need. A refreshing swim would clear my head. Libby wrapped her hand around the glass and took a sip. Coolness flooded through her body, memories clawing at her mind. Libby found it hard to breathe as she struggled to push the past away. She forced herself to swallow the cool water, the memories faded.

  "Same time tomorrow?" asked Helen. "Maybe we can try the sticks?"

  Libby put the empty glass back on the silver tray. "Can't wait, darling." She didn't know how Helen managed to always look so fresh. That's why I've employed her. I can learn from her, and if anything like before happens…

  "You look flushed. Make sure you cool down," Helen said.

  "I will." Libby left the training room, which had once been the old ballroom. It hadn't held any parties since she'd bought the place. Instead of letting the ballroom go to waste, she had converted it to a training room. On the way out Libby hit the punching bag that hung from the ceiling, alleviating some of the frustration that built up inside of her every time she was with Helen.

  Libby unbuttoned her leather vest as she walked down the long hallway, then slipped off her shirt as she stepped out the back door, leaving her clothes on the ground. The memory was still there at the edges of her mind. She kicked off her boots and rushed down the five concrete steps. Her bare feet sunk into the grass as she walked through the Victorian-style garden towards the pond that was big enough to be used as a pool.

  At the edge of the aged concrete rim, she shimmied out of her soft leather pants. Naked, she glided into the water, gasping as the coolness sucked at her body. She sank under the water. Her lungs began to burn and she surfaced, caught her breath and swam frog-style to the other side.

  I'm a downright good explorer. Doubt hung around her, clouding her judgement and breathing life into her own misgivings. She floated on her back, stretching her arms out, moving them in the water like wings. It had been the detective work of exploring that she really enjoyed: all the hours researching in front of books and then the meticulous planning for a trip. But she hadn't been on a trip for three years. A shiver ran through her body. Too late for her to stop, the old memories surfaced.

  She was tied up in the dark. Chains rattled, stirring the fear inside of her. Dampness stole her breath. The sound of a clock ticking echoed loudly.

  Blood.

  The metallic taste stung in her mouth. A hot
dribble of moisture slowly ran down the side of her cheek.

  Libby turned, diving under the surface, wanting to drown her thoughts and free herself from the fear. She screamed until her lungs were empty of air. Bubbles holding her frustration bobbed to the surface. Libby shot upward and resurfaced with a large splash. Maybe I should train twice a day? She pushed her dark hair off her face. The thought of training made her think of Helen. Her trainer was the other reason Libby needed to cool down. Helen was still in her mind. Her blonde neat hair tied in a bun, strong body, broad hips, and ample chest. No. A relationship with my trainer would complicate things too much.

  Instead of the thoughts of Helen fading, her trainer's smile, open and inviting, came into her mind. Libby sighed. If Helen kept away the bad memories then she would indulge. She floated on her back looking at the sky. The same colour as Helen's eyes. She began to lose herself in the colour above as if it really was Helen looking down on her. The water became the soft touch of Helen. The gentle ripples licked at her body in a soothing motion.

  "A-um."

  Startled, Libby bopped upright and looked around. "Richie." She relaxed. The automaton stood at the edge of the pond holding a silver tray of neatly folded towels.

  "There's a message for you."

  "Yes, of course." Libby swam to the edge of the pool and lifted herself out of the water near where Richie stood waiting. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself.

  Richie held out a sealed envelope to Libby. Her name, Elizabeth Northcote, had been written in perfect script. The handwriting looked familiar. Her skin prickled as she turned the envelope in her fingers. An ornate capital S imprinted in the red wax seal caused her body to turn cold. Underneath the seal was a drawing of a heart made of cogs and gears. The clockwork heart. With a gut-punching realisation she knew who had sent this message. No. Her mind refused to think that this was happening.

  "Who delivered this?" asked Libby as she slipped her nail under the seal and broke the envelope open.

  "I don't know ma'am. I found it on the side table when you were swimming."

  "What do you mean you don't know? That's your job, to know who comes and goes and to tell me." Fear welled inside Libby.

  "Sorry ma'am." His mechanical eyes looked at her.

  "I'm tempted to mark you for the scrap heap." Richie stood staring at her, waiting for another instruction. Libby sighed. "You and the others are to be vigilant about who comes and goes."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Libby wanted to take out her anger on the automaton but kept herself in check. It wouldn't do any good. He's just following a program. My program. She looked down at the cream parchment in her hands.

  Libby took a deep breath. Better to get this over with. She held the paper away from her in case there was a puff of anthrax powder or something else that might infect her with a deadly disease. That would be Scarlett's style. Her heart pounding harder and quicker. She pulled out a folded piece of paper. Time slowed as she waited for something to happen.

  Nothing happened, no bang, or pop, or puff.

  She unfolded the piece of parchment. A red lipstick kiss marked the paper.

  She's here. Libby dropped the note, gasping for air. I can't… no. Chains rattled in her mind. She couldn't move. It was hard to breathe. The clock ticked. Maybe it's not her. No, it has to be, no one else would do this? The ticking became louder. There was only one person who pursued her. Libby had come here to Bridgewater, to the safety of the hills of Adelaide. She had thought Scarlett wouldn't think to look for her here. For three years, after she'd escaped Scarlett's entrapment, Libby had hidden here. She'd employed Helen to train her in self-defence six months ago. It had been difficult to find someone with enough skill to extend herself. There was no way she was going to be caught by Scarlett again.

  Libby tried to push the image of Scarlett out of her mind. They had been lovers, had pooled their skills and gone after the same artefact. I loved her. That had never happened before; she'd never allowed herself to be so open with another. She swallowed hard. She betrayed me. But there was so much more. Libby bent over in physical pain as the memories flooded through her mind. Scarlett had changed when she'd placed the clockwork heart around her neck.

  "Ma'am are you all right?" Richie placed his cold metal hand on her bare shoulder.

  Libby jumped. The memory shattered and she was once more standing in her garden with only a towel around her.

  "Yes… yes of course," Libby stammered. Scarlett. She hated that name, that woman. Scarlett had put her in a dungeon and in chains because of the artefact they had been chasing, because of the clockwork heart. I won't let her do that to me again. Determination bubbled inside of Libby as she gained control of her fear. This is what I've been training for. A part of her had suspected Scarlett would seek her out again someday. That was why Helen was here training her in self-defence techniques.

  "Get the steamcar ready. I'm going into Bridgewater."

  "As you wish." Richie bowed.

  "And double-check the security systems. I want all the cameras to be working and recordings made. Also check the tapes to see if you can work out who left this note and when." Libby walked slowly towards the house. The water evaporating from her skin in the late morning heat made Libby feel refreshed. Richie walked behind her, hydraulics puffing and metal creaking.

  Her mind whirled. Her past adventures had meant she could set up a life of luxury here in the quiet of a large property. Libby was only twenty-eight and it was quite an achievement to be able to live like this. The main reason she'd settled here was to recover. Losing love, losing the artefact. Her confidence had shattered and she couldn't bring herself to continue on artefact hunting. Not until she was a more skilled in self-defence.

  Libby had always meant to get back on the scene, to take another job. But she couldn't bring herself to accept the challenge. The memories of Scarlett continued to breed doubt inside of her and she kept retreating to the protection of solitude.

  All because of a metal heart. She sighed. The clockwork heart held magic, a dark power to control people to make them love the bearer. But it hadn't worked on Libby. She had already loved Scarlett. The result caused a dangerous change in Scarlett, based on the fear within her that she would lose Libby. So she had tied Libby up in chains and kept her captive, until Libby managed to escape.

  Libby jogged up the front stairs of her mansion. Richie rushed ahead and opened the heavy wooden front doors. He bowed as she walked through. Libby went up the stairs to her bedroom. She needed time to think and compose herself before rushing into a confrontation with Scarlett. She wasn't about to make that mistake again. As long as Scarlett wore the clockwork heart she couldn't be trusted.

  "I'll eat in the conservatory," she called down to Richie.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Not for the first time Libby wondered if having automatons as staff really kept her safe. She preferred the machines; they didn't ask questions and they couldn't be bribed. Or killed. The only person she had allowed into her sanctuary was Helen. She pushed open the door to her room. I'll be ready for you this time Scarlett.

  *~*~*

  Six months and nothing. Helen sat alone in the conservatory nestled at the back of Libby's house. She poured herself a cup of strong black tea. What is wrong with her? Or me?

  Helen had come at Libby's request as a defence trainer but as soon as she had seen Libby, her heart had pounded to the rhythm of a mad drummer. She had known immediately that she wanted to get to know Libby—personally and intimately. But so far Libby hadn't even picked up that Helen liked her and wanted more than to be her instructor.

  This is a job, she tried to remind herself. Not a chance to find love.

  She added three sugar cubes to the cup and stirred furiously. Helen had started extra training sessions on her own to try and eliminate some of the frustration building up inside of her, but it was getting to be too much. Every training session left her feeling empty. I have to be more obvious.


  Helen had left England five years ago broken-hearted. Her girlfriend had accused Helen of training too much and had found someone else. Teaching self-defence was Helen's passion. She loved teaching martial arts. She had thought her relationship secure, but somehow work had taken over. After the breakup, Helen had decided London held nothing for her, and what she needed was adventure. That was certainly what she had found travelling around Australia teaching martial arts and other self-defence skills.

  Helen sighed and took a long drink of her tea. It was warm outside, but she refused to give up her custom of drinking tea. The southern Australian summer was almost too much for her to tolerate, but she stayed on account of Libby. "If only she would pick up the hints," she said out loud.

  "Who pick up what hint?"

  Helen dropped the cup. It smashed on the ground.

  "That's my good china!" exclaimed Libby as she sat down opposite Helen at the French-style garden table.

  Helen stared in shock at Libby. Her hair was twisted in a neat bun, but wisps of black hair escaped into curls, softening her face. Libby's big brown eyes looked back at her with a hurt Helen wished she could embrace and take away. There was something else though. Something was different about Libby since their training session. She's distracted. Helen hoped it was because of her. She'd worn a low cut dress, secured with a corset to emphasise her curves, in the hope of bumping into Libby. She was smart enough to know that it probably wasn't that, however.

  "Sorry," Helen said. "Sorry." Her cheeks flushed as she tried to contain her emotions. This was one of the other problems she faced. Every time she was with Libby logical thought seemed to escape her mind. All she wanted to do was kiss Libby. Her cheeks deepened in colour. Breaking her good china isn't going to help me get a date with her, she thought with frustration.

  "Never mind. It's only a cup." Libby rang the servants' bell. The maid hurried into the conservatory, hydraulics hissing and metal limbs grinding. "Clean this up."

  "It might be able to be glued back together," Helen suggested. The maid began to clear away the mess.