Beautiful Freaks (21 page)

On the distant stage,
something extraordinary was happening
. Th
e whol
e place was alive with clapping,
whistles
and standing ovations
, but here something even more extraordinary was happening, Kaspian Blackthorne was about to have his
very
first kiss.

Her lips pressed into his and he watched as her eyes fluttered closed.
He had never been so close to another human being.  The sensation made him feel as if he were sliding between lives. Her lips were
warm and the oils of her lipstick
made them easy for his lips to slip
over.
She seemed a practiced kisser, nibbling at his lips, encouraging him to respond.
His hand slid down to the base of her neck, pulling her hard towards him until they were locked together. T
he space between them yawned so that the air between them was shared and they were drowning on the blissful exhalations of each other. Their tongues slid over each other as if desperately seeking to force their souls into the body of each other. As the air ran out, Kaspian’s head began to spin and filled with a thousand rushing stars. Under his lips her heard her moaning softly, felt her body trembling under his hands.

And then she was still.

Kaspian pulled away and drew
a deep breath. A smile danced on his lips. He
had never felt so alive
.
It was as
if he had just been filled with the very essence of life. He turned to her and immediately he understood.
The pretty, little lady
lay slumped
in a pile. She looked
even more doll-
like than she had before – only this time her eyes had turned hard like glass.

He
reached out a hand, part terrified, part fascinated. When he touched her cheek, her head lolled, falling onto the other shoulder with a sickening weight.

“Oh, God!” Kaspian whispered.
He placed his two fingers on her throat to check for a pulse.
There was nothing
.

His exclamation drew part of Hugh’s attention, although not enough to cause him to fully look around.
“What’s
the matter, old chap?” he asked.

Hysteria
began to build
in Kaspian. He looked
out
across the crowds
wi
th the wild look of a criminal, scanning
the room for witnesses to the crime he had committed.
It appeared that nobody had seen. He leant into Hugh and whispered,

“She’s dead!
I’ve just killed her!”

Hugh’s attention
snapped towards Kaspian and the scene. Hugh reached forward and tested for the girl’s pulse with his fingers, praying that Kaspian was mistaken.

“What have you done?”
Hugh hissed.

“I kissed her.”

“Are you sure
that
’s
all you did?”

“Yes…
that’s
all
I did!”
Kaspian’s raised voice attracted a glance from the gentleman next to them and Hugh raised his eyebrows high in warning,

“Calm down!
People will notice,” he whispered. “
You can’t kill somebody
just
by kissing them.”

“Well actually
…
there is some recent scientific thought
to the contrary.”
A
woman’s voice cut through their conversation
,
causing both men to fall silent and look up.

“Sorry to interrupt you gentleme
n when you’re clearly very busy.” As she sat down she unclipped her opera cloak and spread it over the corpse, pushing the body down into an unidentifiable heap
. “
My name’s Evangeline, you may call me Eve.
” She held out her hand in manly greeting but both Hugh and Kaspian were too startled to respond
. She
let her hand drop redundantly to her side.
 

A series of irritated “Ssshes” came from around them, to which Eve raised her hand in apology and flashed her most charming smile.

“What…
you …
doing…
?”
Hugh
was too confused to articulate his question.

She bent forward, and lowered her voice so that only they could hear, “I’m here to rescue Kaspian.” She smil
ed and winked. “Now, Mr. Denvers, r
espected patron and friend of my little establishment, you need to leave now and take the black hand
some-
cab that is waiting for you outside. You’ll recognise it by the seven-branched star on the door. My driver will take you
safely
home
.

Hugh stumbled to his feet, never taking his eyes off of the weird tableau in front of
him. “I’ll be off then, Kaspian!
I’ll see you in a couple of days.” The last words of his adieu were hard to hear as they faded across the increasing distance.

“Eve?”

“Yes, Kaspian.”

“Is it going to be alright?”

“Yes! Lucky for you I saw all of this coming.” She smiled at a private joke and then leant into Kaspian’s shoulder, inviting him to listen. He moved towards her, his cheek pressed up against hers. She smelt of roses. Her lips were tantalisingly close.

“In a
moment
we
are going to slide up the bench
towards each other. Between us we will
manoeuvre
her onto the floor beneath the table
. Then you are going to call over the next waiter you see and order two glasses of champagne. We’re going to drink them; pretend nothing is out of the ordinary. When the lights of the stage go out and the whole room is as dark as can be, we are going to leave – just like lovers.
If we are lucky, it will be morning before they discover her.”

The next half-an-
hour played out just as Eve had instructed
,
and by the time they had made their exit from the crime scene, Eve’s cab had returned from dropping Hugh off and was waiting
– just
as a good getaway vehicle should be.

14

FALL INTO TEMPATION

The journey was short
,
but in that time Eve managed to explain efficiently that the
events
of the night were the result of Kaspian being a phantom.

“A phantom needs to feed off of human souls in order
to sustain his immortal status,” she explained. “
By inhaling the soul of another, it nourishes
the
phantom
’s
abilities and prolongs his youth.”

“Phantom abilities?”

“Yes, the ability
to move through time and space.
To be able to travel through
a
fourth dimension.”

“The fourth dimension?” Kaspian asked.

“The dimension of dreams; the land of fantasy.”

“Oh!” Kaspian looked at her, searching her face for meaning.

Sitting in front of her, amongst the richness of her carriage, he wondered if the fourth dimension was where he was now. Small vaseline-glass gas lamps gave the carriage a dreamlike quality – softening everything. In this strange light, Eve’s hair blazed a fiery red. Her skin was the colour of white peaches. His eyes drifted over the hard lines of her face and lingered on her bare, naked lips. She was watching him watch her. The deep smell of roses seemed to spill from her skin. It was a warm smell, as if her very blood was perfumed with the scent.

There was something about her that moved him to a desire that was almost violent. He imagined the carriage pitching as they fought, him pinning her arms against the hard leather of the bench, her eyes wild and flashing as he forced his lips to hers. She would, of course, submit willingly in the end.

A smile danced across the corners of her lips and she blushed, just as if she had read his thoughts.

“And the soul
is harvested through kissing?”
he asked, his voice heavy with desire.

“Yes, a kiss can steal the soul.
” She turned away as if distracted by a sudden memory. “
A kiss is
a powerful thing.”

There was silence, the tension between them palpable.

“How did you know where to find me? How did you know that it w
ould be tonight that I …
”

Her fingers found he
r monocle by instinct and she lifted it so that it dangled before him. “By this – my third eye. It
is made from a slice of The Future Stone, a crystal that allows t
he holder to see into the future.”

Kaspian reached out and let
the glass
settle
into the palm of his hand. “
May
I look?”

She nodded and leant forward.
He raised
his hand to his eye but he could see nothing -- just a milky fog.

“You will need to
let your eye adjust to the lens,
”
she said. “You need to clear your mind.”

The fog
shift
ed
and smoky figures began to emerge
. By the time they moved towards him, the image was as clear as if he were seeing with his own eye.

In the glass,
Eve
was
crouched at his feet. They were talking,
intensely – intimately.
He reached out his hand, stroked her cheek
,
and then they were kissing. Kaspian dropped the monocle and it fell
back
against Eve’s corset
with a soft thud
.
He looked at her and she was smiling.

She had known what he would see.

*

N
o.7
was quiet. The last clients were always sent home by
two
o
’
clock. Kaspian had no idea what the time was now
,
but he knew it was probably closer to sunrise than it was sunset. A man in livery opened the door and took Kaspian’s hat and cane.
If he was surprised to see
Eve bring home a male companion,
then he was discreet and professional enough not to show it.

“Your cloak madam?” the servant asked.

“I gave it to a woman in need.” She flashed him a tight smile and he accepted this as if such acts of charity might be a regular occurrence. She unpinned her hat from her curls and handed it over to his waiting hand. Where she had loosened the pins, strands of hair had escaped and the look was now slightly wild. It was a look that Kaspian found pleasing.

She led the way up the stairs, towards her private quarters. Members were not allowed up here, no matter how much money they offered – and they’d offered more money than most men dreamt of. Kaspian followed behind her with his eyes fixed to the floor. He had no real idea as to what was happening. From the minute she’d arrived at The Argyle, he’d handed himself over to her completely. Now a quiet fear drummed within him. Soon enough they were at the top of the stairs.

She pushed open
the pair of double
door
s,
and
he followed behind. Kaspian
h
ad never seen anything like it. Despite trying hard to remain calm, he found himself disarmed and flustered.

The walls were
covered
in
cream paper. On to the surface of which, some skilled hand had painted a forest in silver paint. It gave the room a feeling of infinite and magical space.
Across
the whole length of
one wall
,
floor to ceiling bookshel
ves made from an unidentifiable pale wood, housed hundreds of books; each one was covered with white kid-leather dust jackets.
Kaspian could only guess at the value of such a library, and as to how wealthy Evangeline actually was.

All of the furniture was covered in raw cotton and a large white woollen rug covered most of the floor.
In strict linear formations across the walls, l
arge black and white photographs
had been
framed in simple black
ebony
frames.

Everything was so fresh, so modern, and so extraordinary. The only hint of colour in the entire room was rose-bowl crammed with blood red blooms. They shared the same scent as Eve. 

Kaspian drifted over to the far end of the room, which appeared to be used as an office. A white, marble-topped table
was
pushed
up
against
the
wall
. It was littered with tens of photographs and notebooks. A silver inkstand held a bowl of cobalt ink and a selection of Waterman fountain pens.
The l
atest technology was
everywhere,
the whole
desk was
a temple to everyt
hing new and exciting. A typewriter sat pride of place, and to the left, a phonograph and disks. Above the desk were shelves that housed several cameras and other instruments that Kaspian could not identify.