The Miss Education of Dr. Exeter Read Online Free Page B

you have ever told us how you and Valentine met.”
    A smile cracked the ends of Jersey’s mouth. “She tried to kill me.”
    Valentine grinned. “Back in my novice demon-slayer days.”
    “Novice as in novitiate,” Jersey added, “Sister Valentina.”
    “It’s true. I was a Sister of Mercy for a month or two. I spotted Jersey one evening in the garden. He was wearing black robes. Mistook him for a possessed priest I was tracking and endeavored to—”
    “As I said—you tried to kill me.” Jersey’s gaze moved over Valentine Smyth with such intimacy, Exeter was forced to look away. He had seen that same expression on Jersey’s face before the two had left for the Outremer.
    Several evenings past, he had met with Jersey and Valentine in his study to discuss a method Mia could learn to use to control the time and place of her transformations. Jersey had talked about a little-known technique practiced by ancient shape-shifters, and a rare and collectible bookshop on Charing Cross Road. There had also been talk of a strange proprietor, not of this world.
    “Who told you about this creature?” Exeter had asked.
    “Tim Noggy.” Valentine offered, quite seriously.
    He had shaken his head. Since Lovecraft’s death, the rotund Mr. Noggy, inventor and pseudo scientist, had overseen the repair of the professor’s underground factory and labs. And he had done an admirable job of it—case in point: the message that had arrived at breakfast this morning. But what did Noggy know of such things as shape-shifting?
    Frankly, Exeter found it exasperating. Still, what could it hurt to inquire? So it was agreed that, while in the Outremer, Jersey and Valentine would pay a visit to the proprietor of the bookstore recommended by Noggy.
    Before leaving his study, Valentine had intimated the involuntary shifts were caused by pent-up desire, and stressed Mia’s need for release. The number and frequency of her transformations suggested that she was—for lack of a more delicate description—sexually frustrated.
    Exeter must have appeared unconvinced, as Valentine went on to explain: “Have you ever seen a cat that has been kept indoors, away from prowling toms in the alley? Pussy lifts her rump and cocks her tail to one side. If you stroke or scratch her scruff she’ll go into raptures. Doctor, you admit seeing the panther assume the lordosis position—she was soliciting you to mount her.”
    Exeter had stared at Valentine. “What can be done about it, short of marrying her off?” He had wanted to add “and to whom” but the thought disturbed.
    The carriage turned onto Lower Thames Street and hit a pothole, rousing Exeter from his troubled thoughts. Mia brushed against his shoulder. She wore a dark blue high-crowned hat, set at a jaunty angle. She looked up and met his gaze through the netting over her eyes. Once again he experienced a momentary falling sensation.
    What was he to do with this brave and lovely young woman? The question continued to remain unresolved. He hoped that by the end of this day, he’d have some answers.
     
    Exeter read the sign above the door. “ Deus Ex Machina, God in the machine.” Metal letterforms circled the large initial L —for Lovecraft. The insignia appeared to be scorched, and the x in Ex Machina hung askew, but the factory entrance was otherwise tidy and presentable. All the debris from the invasion had been cleared away. In fact, there was barely a trace of the mayhem and destruction that had taken place here just months ago.
    He gestured his small coterie inside and followed them down into the bowels of Lovecraft’s late, great enterprise. The elephantine Inter-Dimensional Injection Portal or iDIP sat on the old underground train tracks looking, oddly, as magnificent as ever. As they passed by the iron portal enclosure, Exeter suspected they were all thinking the same thing. The last time any of them had seen Phaeton Black alive, he had been sucked into the gigantic engine and