Read Online The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen by Kevin J. Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Kevin J. Anderson
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full head of hair. She
ran her fingers lightly through it, seductively, as if she had a purpose. "So
will you join us, Dorian?"
He sighed long and slow, staring into the flames. His expression was a mask
of utter disinterest. "Ah, there was a time when my love of experience would
have drawn me to this adventure. I would have enjoyed it, no doubt. A lark But
now I have other priorities. I seek to… tame my own demons. Therefore, I must
decline. Sorry. I'm sure M can dredge someone else out of his extensive
files."
Nemo turned from studying the spines of the extravagant books in the library.
"Yes, his files. I confess a curiosity as to what those files say about Mr.
Gray. And why he is considered so important. We, all of us, have obvious traits
useful in this endeavor. Quatermain is a hunter, and Mrs. Harker represents
science. I myself am quite skilled with technology, and Mr. Skinner has
stealth." Crossing his arms over his blue uniform, he scrutinized Dorian Gray.
"What of you?"
"I have… experience," he answered with an undertone of great weariness. "A
vast amount of experience."
Nemo looked at the man's boyish appearance, and his lips turned down in a
skeptical frown. "How could one as young as yourself have experienced more than
Quatermain or I?"
For the past several minutes, Quatermain had been staring at the man,
ransacking his memory. Finally, the answer came to him, unlikely as it seemed.
"Because Gray and I have met before. I didn't recall it at first, but I remember
now. Many years ago at Eton College."
"A lecture, no doubt?" Mina said. "You the nations hero, telling of your
exploits in Africa, King Solomons mines, the lost city of gold. Dorian the eager
listening boy." She seemed amused.
"No, quite the reverse, Mrs. Harker." Quatermain seated himself in the second
leather wingback by the fireplace, leaning closer to their host. The suave man
in the other chair looked at him, secretly amused. "It was Gray visiting Eton,
giving his lecture—and I was just a boy. Isn't that right, Mr. Gray?"
Their host pointed a finger at him. "Touché."
Quatermain shook his head, turning back to Mina and Nemo. "He hasn't changed
a bit in all those years. Not a bit."
"Must be a healthy diet and virtuous living," the invisible man said snidely
from the drink cart.
"Hardly," Gray said.
Skinner finished his Scotch with a slurp and poured a third, very full glass
for himself. "Anyone?"
The others were still trying to make sense of Quatermain's remark when the
old adventurer suddenly snapped to attention. He surveyed the room's upper
levels, peering toward the high bookshelves, the railed alcoves above, the loft
filled with shadows. Everyone felt his tension.
"What is it?" Mina whispered.
Without a word, Quatermain slowly rose from his chair. The old leather let
out a rustling sigh, but when he held out a hand for silence, no one dared to
ask what he sensed. The others stared into the shadows, noticing nothing. The
tension grew, accompanied only by the crackle of the fire and the quiet breaths
of the waiting companions.
Gray seemed to think he was overreacting. "Really, Mr. Quatermain. You must
be on edge—"
Then they heard a creak, the faintest sound. Dust sifted downward from the
loft railing. Mina instinctively crouched; she moved like a panther, despite the
tight, confining bodice and voluminous skirts of her dress.
Quatermain reached inside his linen jacket and eased out his Webley revolver.
It felt heavy but comforting in his grip.
Before he could cock the hammer, though, a flurry of marksmen appeared like a
startled flock of birds from every shadow on every level. Long rifle barrels
extended, ominously reflecting the gaslights and the library fire.
"Gray?" Quatermain growled. "What is this? Your own brand of home
security?"
"They're not mine." Finally, a note of interest had crept into Grays voice,
altering his usual bored demeanor.
"They are mine." The voice was
ran her fingers lightly through it, seductively, as if she had a purpose. "So
will you join us, Dorian?"
He sighed long and slow, staring into the flames. His expression was a mask
of utter disinterest. "Ah, there was a time when my love of experience would
have drawn me to this adventure. I would have enjoyed it, no doubt. A lark But
now I have other priorities. I seek to… tame my own demons. Therefore, I must
decline. Sorry. I'm sure M can dredge someone else out of his extensive
files."
Nemo turned from studying the spines of the extravagant books in the library.
"Yes, his files. I confess a curiosity as to what those files say about Mr.
Gray. And why he is considered so important. We, all of us, have obvious traits
useful in this endeavor. Quatermain is a hunter, and Mrs. Harker represents
science. I myself am quite skilled with technology, and Mr. Skinner has
stealth." Crossing his arms over his blue uniform, he scrutinized Dorian Gray.
"What of you?"
"I have… experience," he answered with an undertone of great weariness. "A
vast amount of experience."
Nemo looked at the man's boyish appearance, and his lips turned down in a
skeptical frown. "How could one as young as yourself have experienced more than
Quatermain or I?"
For the past several minutes, Quatermain had been staring at the man,
ransacking his memory. Finally, the answer came to him, unlikely as it seemed.
"Because Gray and I have met before. I didn't recall it at first, but I remember
now. Many years ago at Eton College."
"A lecture, no doubt?" Mina said. "You the nations hero, telling of your
exploits in Africa, King Solomons mines, the lost city of gold. Dorian the eager
listening boy." She seemed amused.
"No, quite the reverse, Mrs. Harker." Quatermain seated himself in the second
leather wingback by the fireplace, leaning closer to their host. The suave man
in the other chair looked at him, secretly amused. "It was Gray visiting Eton,
giving his lecture—and I was just a boy. Isn't that right, Mr. Gray?"
Their host pointed a finger at him. "Touché."
Quatermain shook his head, turning back to Mina and Nemo. "He hasn't changed
a bit in all those years. Not a bit."
"Must be a healthy diet and virtuous living," the invisible man said snidely
from the drink cart.
"Hardly," Gray said.
Skinner finished his Scotch with a slurp and poured a third, very full glass
for himself. "Anyone?"
The others were still trying to make sense of Quatermain's remark when the
old adventurer suddenly snapped to attention. He surveyed the room's upper
levels, peering toward the high bookshelves, the railed alcoves above, the loft
filled with shadows. Everyone felt his tension.
"What is it?" Mina whispered.
Without a word, Quatermain slowly rose from his chair. The old leather let
out a rustling sigh, but when he held out a hand for silence, no one dared to
ask what he sensed. The others stared into the shadows, noticing nothing. The
tension grew, accompanied only by the crackle of the fire and the quiet breaths
of the waiting companions.
Gray seemed to think he was overreacting. "Really, Mr. Quatermain. You must
be on edge—"
Then they heard a creak, the faintest sound. Dust sifted downward from the
loft railing. Mina instinctively crouched; she moved like a panther, despite the
tight, confining bodice and voluminous skirts of her dress.
Quatermain reached inside his linen jacket and eased out his Webley revolver.
It felt heavy but comforting in his grip.
Before he could cock the hammer, though, a flurry of marksmen appeared like a
startled flock of birds from every shadow on every level. Long rifle barrels
extended, ominously reflecting the gaslights and the library fire.
"Gray?" Quatermain growled. "What is this? Your own brand of home
security?"
"They're not mine." Finally, a note of interest had crept into Grays voice,
altering his usual bored demeanor.
"They are mine." The voice was
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