Dominic's Nemesis (19 page)

“He may have.” His shrug belied the
seriousness of his next words. “My
ability
is quiet only
when I am passive, numb almost, so I have taken to avoiding
stimulus…of any kind. Cael is frustrating, and I don
’
t wish to hurt him. But existing
in a stupor grows old, and tiring. Even that I worry about. Could
fatigue light the fuse again and consume those around me? Or
anxiety, if I worry overmuch?”

Ahhh, Cael had spoken of Stephan
’
s remoteness. Though he hardly
needed the memory to register his youngest brother
’
s much-altered demeanor. “But you
are comfortable talking to me.”

“Yes.”

“No twinges or volatile emotion?”

“
None.
”

Dom nodded. “Excellent. A coping
strategy.”

For the first time, Stephan, turned to eye
him head-on. “Is that why
she’s
still here? The woman, I
mean. She helps you cope.”

Dom bristled, but the reaction only sparked
more scrutiny from amber eyes burning with curiosity. “Her name is
Eden.”

He nodded. “When Ethan introduced us, I
remember thinking the name apt. Her presence, it calmed the thing
within me. It took me a while to realize it was
her
. A
serene wind, that
’
s the
only way to describe it. I wished I had been seated adjacent her
instead of across, perhaps then I could have participated in the
conversation.”

“She is affecting me as well.” Dominic
marveled, suddenly keen for Cael
’
s assessment and desperate for it to be optimistic
news.

Just then, the clack of footsteps against
cobblestone echoed. Both brothers turned to receive the slow-gaited
Renfred around a weed-choked flowerbed.

“Master Ambrosi, message just arrived,
sir.”

Dom accepted the square-fold communiqué
hesitantly. “How was it delivery?”

“By special carrier.”

“Will he wait for a response?”

“No, sir. The barer departed almost
immediately.”

“Thank you, Renfred.”

“Gideon?” Stephan supposed after the butler
had departed.

Dom eyed the small parcel in his hands as if
he were afraid it would bite him. “I have never received a written
message from Gideon in my life. Have you?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never received a written
message from you either.”

* * *

Eden paced away, giddy. She had stored up a
wealth of questions during her two-week sojourn, and hardly knew
which one to pose first. Pivoting around, she came to stand in
front of him.

“Anything? You’ll tell me
anything
I
want to know?”

A thought flashed in his eyes before his
unreadable facade returned. “Anything that doesn
’
t violate a confidence.”

“Fair enough. I agree.” She posed the first
question, not sure how long her good fortune would last, she
decided on the most controversial. “Does Dominic have a network of
scars marring his torso, either in front or at his back?”

Atherton had returned his attention to the
makeshift sketchbook, only to freeze amidst flipping to the next
page. “No. What would prompt such a question?”

“I…” Eden hesitated. She wasn
’
t supposed to have seen him
without his shirt, now she
’
d have to admit to it or risk his thinking her a
loon. “An accident. I tumbled from the ladder in the library and
Dom caught me. In the midst of untangling ourselves, I saw the
scars…But when I asked how he got them, he denied it.”

Eden did not like the focused amber pinning
her in place. The scrutiny reminded her of the Sphinx. “So, you do
see things. I wondered.”

She sagged, that was a ‘no
’
. At least now she knew, the scars truly
were her own imaginings. She
’
d been so sure that he was somehow hiding them from
her. Maybe she needed Atherton
’
s services after all.

“What kinds of things have you seen?”

“People, strange happenings. Distortions of
reality.”

“Be more specific, Ms. Prescott.”

Eden inhaled deep, and dropped down beside
him on the divan, suddenly weary. “On the day that you found me
half-drown in the marsh. Whilst I stood on the brink, desperate for
a reason, any random inclination not to succumb to my grief, an
image formed just under the surface of the water…a woman and her
infant called to me. My first thought was that they were drowning
and I ought to save them. I don
’
t know what happened then, but the next thing I
knew the water had me. And then later I awoke here, with Dr. Raine
attending at my bedside.”

“Hmmm. Were the faces familiar at all?”

“No.”

“Are the…visions…frequent?”

“
Very.
”

“Tell me about this vision the other
night.”

She felt her spine toughen up. So, Dom had
enlightened his brother about a good many things. “That was not a
vision, and I have the bruises to prove it.” She snatched the shawl
from her shoulders, indignantly. The doctor gave the discolored
skin at her neck the briefest glance, but exhibited no discernable
reaction. Strange. She had expected him to gasp or interrogate her
about the bruising. When he continued on without incident, she
re-adjusted her cover-up.

“My brother insists there was no attack.” The
doctor
’
s focus shifted
back to his lap as he flipped the page. “That you caused the
bruises yourself.”

“I am aware of his opinion.” She knew she
sounded waspish, but blast the man for coloring the doctor against
her. “
But, I wonder
…If
Dominic can travel as he does, why assume no one else can? Perhaps
there is another with equal talents, and fewer scruples. By the by,
I
’
d like to know. Are
you…different…like Dom or is it just him?”

As Eden piqued an ire brow at him, she
noticed Atherton
’
s
attentions lay elsewhere. His vague, “
Define different
” seemed spoken as an afterthought,
so absorbed was he with the chalk visages staring out from the
page.

“Dominic travels in another realm. He can
cloak himself and skulk about unnoticed. Do
you
do that?
Would you
spy on me, if I refuse to spill all my dirty
little secrets?”

Still he only had amber eyes for her artistic
renderings. “The two of you had a spat recently, I see. But to
answer your question, no, I am not adept. Tell me, what was the
impetus for these last few drawings?”

“The visions, what else.” Exasperated by
Atherton
’
s odd
fascination, Eden snapped out her next inquiry. “What the devil is
so interesting about that one anyway?” He couldn
’
t even be bothered to notice her
annoyance. The quiet answer she received startled her.

“I know them. And I must say you
’
ve captured the likeness and the
differences rather brilliantly. One would almost think…”

“Who…are they?” The pair of them had greeted
her in the vanity mirror one morning, blinking back at her just as
they did from the sketch the vision had inspired. Alluring, yet
eerie…almost like a blurring of one image into two. Both with
midnight hair and tan-olive skin, rather like Dominic
’
s she realized suddenly…but his
face was fleshy, rounded, less angular than the two in her
vision.

“Come.”

That broke the spell. Eden followed him as he
laid her sketches aside on the divan, stood and held a hand out for
her. Atherton drew her along the back wall of the L-shaped gallery,
until they stood before a wide rectangular oil of the same two in
her sketch. Identical visages, bust-only, posed
shoulder-to-shoulder.

“That
’
s Gideon there on the right and Gabriel on the
left.” He gestured. “Are you sure you
’
ve never been in this room before?”

“No. Never.”

“How interesting.”

Matthias twitched. He sweated it out alone in
a room with the size and appeal of a privy. The voices of the
Social Reform Board in the adjacent meeting hall carried just
enough for him to discern who spoke but not enough to make out what
was being said.

He called in a few favors from the contacts
he still claimed on Bow Street and squeezed a handful of
inmates
’
relatives—influential peers—to apply pressure to the board.
Blackmailed a half dozen of his off-the-books clientele into
endorsing St. Ciaran Isis as a godsend and offering funds to help
refurbish his establishment and modernize any archaic
practices.

Still, he worried. Harry had, as predicted,
rolled over and played snitch like a yellow-tailed pig.
Enlightening the board about the Asylum Keeper
’
s more unsavory practices with a select
number of female inmates. Most of the ones he
’
d had a turn with recently were too
blissed out on opiates to bare witness. But the implication alone
was damning, particularly on top of the other deficiencies leveled
against St. Ciaran Isis.

The door creaked open and a bookish-type
ushered him back before the full-paneled board of Social Reform.
Matthias teamed with an underlying frenzy. Nobody came into St.
Ciaran Isis and superseded his authority. No matter how the cards
fell, Greyson would suffer for the privilege.

Poking the top-drawer bastard in the eye with
a heated promise, Matthias squared himself for the verdict.
He
’
d let Greyson win
this round, damn the fates, but he
’
d make sure his was the last word. Yeah, he liked
that. The very last word.

Dom watched his brother from behind the desk
in his study as he mulled. Stephan advanced on the flickering blaze
in the hearth. Firelight sparked off a dance of mahogany highlights
in his hair.

“What are you going to do about Greyson’s
request?” Even as the younger man posed the question, his eyes had
yet to break free of the crackle of scarlet-yellow flame and
occasional indigo hiss that chewed up the kindling with burning
passion.

“I am inclined to disallow it. I
don
’
t trust these
scientific spiritualist types. Science and religion, an unholy
union if ever there was one.”

“And the warning?” Stephan fingered the
coiled iron poker standing sentry, and sank into a low squat at the
edge of the fire
’
s
reach. The writhing flames licked mere inches from his rapt
expression, throwing off bold shadows and tiny glowing sparks which
landing on his jacket-ed shoulders. His interest bordered on
fixation.

“I
’
ll speak with Cael first. It is wise to consider
another
’
s opinion.”
Dominic frowned at the backlit profile, again noting the oddness in
his brother
’
s actions.
“Stephan?”

“Hmmm.”

“Are you sure you
’
re alright? This thing…don
’
t allow it to mar the rest of your
days.”

Just as his fingers reached out into the
licking flames, he paused and lowered his arm. “
I don’
t know if I will ever be as I was
before it happened. That person is no more.”

Dominic nodded. “Your life will be different,
no doubt, but not without hope. Ethan lives quite content with his
gift-”

“There is no comparison. Ethan
’
s gift is not dangerous to those
around him, neither is yours for that matter.” He head snapped
around to flash horror-stricken eyes. “I live at the mercy of an
evil, seething within, turbulent and deadly, poised to lash out at
the slightest provocation. The tiniest lapse of control and
I
’
d be responsible for…”
He trailed off. “Mine is not a gift, it
’
s a curse.”

Dom opened his mouth to protest, but could
not think of a single point to make.

“I had thought at first to…” He paused,
eyeing Dom with an odd, almost un-nerving expression. “I even
acquired a pistol…but I could not. Cael.”

Alarmed, Dominic lurched from behind the desk
to come to his brother
’
s
side. Now, he
’
d have to
watch Stephan as he did Eden. “Don
’
t do anything drastic, please. We will find a
solution to this. If it is easier for you here, then stay,
indefinitely. Cael will understand.”

His brother straightened, amber orbs blazed
with disbelief. “But you dislike unnecessary people loitering
about.”

“I will adjust
.
” He insisted. “I
’
ve had Ms. Prescott, Kathleen, and Ethan lurking
around a fortnight. Even Nonna managed to force a visit. And I
haven
’
t gone
‘round the bend yet.”

“Nonna?” Though he did not smile, Dom could
see some of the anxiety ease from his face. “I suppose if you
withstood the devil herself, I cannot do much harm.”

Dom smiled, in relief as much as
amusement.

* * *

Long after Stephan had departed the study,
Dominic mused behind his desk. Alone, he rested his specs on the
stained cider desk in front of him. He fiddled with the message,
folding and unfolding it along the original lines. The contents of
the letter replayed in his mind. Greyson wanted an audience with
him, for what reason the letter did not specify. He had most likely
omitted the impetus for his request hoping curiosity would lure Dom
into granting a meeting. Dom reached back to what he knew of the
man. Greyson delved into psionics, the science of adepts and mental
instability. Maybe he could help Stephan, or maybe…Dom remember
another such scientist, from long ago who claimed to want to
help
.