Her Dark Curiosity (23 page)

I leaned back, hands coiled in his hair, thinking of how making love to Edward had been a mistake. I should have saved myself for Montgomery, the man I truly loved.

What would he do if he found out?

Montgomery stopped and sat abruptly. His gaze fell to the bare skin of my shoulder. I parted my lips, confused, and touched the tender place where he’d just kissed me.

My fingers found the rough scratches from where the Beast had clawed me.

“Where did you get those scratches?” he said. There was an odd inflection in his voice, and I remembered that he’d seen the Beast’s scratches on countless bodies. He knew exactly how the claws cut through skin, how far apart the spacing was. Of course he would recognize them.

“Montgomery . . . ,” I said in a rush. I could feel the intimacy of the moment slipping out of my hands, and I grabbed his arm to keep it there.

He pulled out of my grasp and stood, pacing by the fire. “You said you hadn’t seen Edward before tonight.”

“Stop pacing, and I shall explain.”

“You said you hadn’t seen him. You lied to me.”

“I never actually said as much—you just assumed. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“He could have killed you!”

“You think I don’t know that?” I snapped, standing to face him. I chewed on my lip, trying to focus my thoughts. “Of course I know he’s dangerous. I think about that every minute, every second! Each one of his victims died because of me—each one had wronged me. One was a girl I used to know from the boardinghouse, who stole Mother’s ring. One was a member of Parliament who beat Mother and me, many years ago. Another was the solicitor who commandeered our fortune on behalf of the courts. None of them angels, though none of them deserved
death.
I’ve been living in a prison of fear ever since Edward came back, so don’t you dare try to tell me I’m ignoring how dangerous he is.”

My words ended short, and I took a few breaths. “But there’s good in him too, and it’s worth saving. He’s as desperate to stop the Beast as the rest of us. He’s trying to cure himself, and he asked for my help. Perhaps if you’d shown the same compassion—”

“Compassion?” he hissed. “Why would you have sympathy for a monster?”

“Because we’re not so different! I know what it means to be experimented on. I’m in need of a cure just as much as Edward. He and I were working together. We were making progress, until . . .” My hand went to the scratches on my shoulder. “It’s getting harder for him to control himself. The Beast gets stronger each day.”

“You should have told me,” he said. He went to the windows, pushing aside the curtains to look down on the world below.

“Well, I’m not the only one keeping secrets,” I said.

His head jerked up, eyes fixed with the intensity of a hunter. “What do you mean?”

“Edward said there are things you haven’t told me.”

He crossed the room to stand beside me. “What did he tell you?” The quick, almost desperate quality to his movements proved Edward right. Montgomery was hiding something, and he was a terrible liar.

“The letters, for one.”

“I told you, I never read them. Moreau told me they were just business transactions. Funding for the supplies he needed.”

“And you never thought that his financial backers expected something in return for their payments?”

He ran a hand over his face. “I made mistakes, Juliet. I admired your father. I loved him. I didn’t question things that I should have. But it would be a mistake now to let Edward live.”

“Just as it’s a mistake to let Balthazar live? Why an exception for one and not the other?” I snapped. He threw me an aggravated look, which I returned. “Balthazar’s a good creature, but so is Edward. You’ve just never understood him. Not like I do.”

There was a tenderness to my voice I hadn’t intended, and it made Montgomery stop his prowling. “How is that? As a friend?” His eyes drifted to the bare skin of my shoulder. “Or as something more?”

My jaw clenched. “Don’t you dare throw accusations.”

But jealousy had gotten its fingers deep within him, and he wasn’t about to stop. “Did he tell you lies about how he loves you, how he’d do anything for you? Did he kiss you? Did you kiss him
back
?”

Instinct brought my hand toward his face to slap him, never mind that he was dangerously close to the truth. But he caught my wrist before it made contact. His breath was coming fast; mine was faster.

I said in a rush, “You were right. Edward did try to kiss me, and I let him. I let him do more than that too, because
he
came back for me. He truly loves me.”

Montgomery’s eyes went wide. I’d gone too far, I realized. He’d hurt me, and so I had hurt him. But love wasn’t about swapping wounds, tearing each other apart. We weren’t animals. I bit my lip, wishing I could take those words back. Wishing they’d been a lie, instead of the truth.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You were gone. I thought I’d never seen you again.”

I reached toward him, but he jerked away. “You think I don’t truly love you?” he said, and then muttered something under his breath and stormed toward the door.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“To find Edward and put a bullet in his head.” He vanished through the door, letting it fall closed behind him. I heard the stairs groan and the front door slam as he disappeared somewhere out in the cold night.

I threw on my coat and slippers and opened the door to run after him, but tripped over a gigantic mass asleep a few feet outside my bedroom door. I would have landed against the hard wood loud enough to wake the entire household if Balthazar’s sleeping bulk hadn’t broken my fall.

“Balthazar,” I whispered, scrambling to sit up as his hand found my arm. “What are you doing out here?”

But he didn’t take his hands off me. He pushed to his feet and lifted me up with him, then dusted off my coat, gently picked me up, and set me back down in my bedroom.

“Montgomery says to keep you here. To make sure you don’t leave.”

I glared at him, but he didn’t flinch. Balthazar was nothing if not loyal. If Montgomery told him to eat a pint of arsenic, he’d do it without question.

Balthazar smiled as he closed the door in my face. “Sweet dreams, miss.”

Sweet dreams indeed,
I thought to myself, as I raced to the window and fumbled to get the lock open. It would be waking nightmares, not dreams, if I didn’t get to Edward before Montgomery did.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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TWENTY-FIVE

I
HADN’T TAKEN THE
time to change out of my nightdress, but by the time I ran all the way to Shoreditch, sweat was pooling beneath my heavy coat. I paused outside my lodging house. A lantern was on in the attic chamber, flickering calm and bright.

The Beast, with his animal eyes, wouldn’t need a lantern. Edward had to be up there.

Just the same, I was cautious going up the stairs. I held the knife in my hand, ready to strike if needed. I reached the landing and pressed my ear to the door. I could hear the old building settling and creaking, then a gentle clink of glass from within, and the scrape of chair legs on the floorboards as someone stood.

I adjusted my grip on the knife before quietly twisting the knob just enough to peer within. There was a shadow of movement on the wall, looking inhumanly large before I realized it was just the lantern casting too-long shadows, and that the figure was just a young man bent over a tin can of ham, scooping it into an old china dish for the little black dog who wagged his tail impatiently.

A floorboard creaked under my foot, and Edward looked up. He stood when he saw me, the spoon and tin can clattering to the floor. Sharkey nosed through them, oblivious to the tension between Edward and me.

“Juliet,” Edward said. He still wore his clothes from the masquerade, though they hung looser on him without the Beast’s swollen muscles. The suit jacket was tossed on the bed, and he was only in shirt and suspenders, the gold chain of the pocket watch dangling from his vest pocket.

He shook his head, coming forward. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“This is my flat.”

“It’s too dangerous.
I’m
too dangerous.”

“You said the Beast can’t last more than two hours, and the party ended long ago.” I came in and closed the door behind me. He didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t protest. He stooped down to finish feeding Sharkey.

“That was true a week ago, but I’ve been so worried about you that he’s taking advantage of my distracted mind. He can last three, four hours now. He could have still had control over me.”

“Well, he didn’t,” I said, standing in the center of the room, hoping I sounded bolder than I felt. I stared at the tips of my slippers. “Do you remember what happened at the party tonight?”

Edward paused. “I have a few memories, but they’re foggy. I remember mistletoe and red ribbon.” He dropped his voice. “I remember your face.”

It’s my lips you want to feel, isn’t it
?

I paced in front of the window, pulling at the itchy lace of my nightdress. “The Beast attacked Mrs. Radcliffe.”

He nodded. “I remember that, too, slightly. The smell of blood . . . well, it’s very evocative.”

“Why her?”

“The Beast is very protective of you,” he said. “Lucy mentioned to me once how her mother snubbed you after your family lost their fortune, and the Beast must have kept it in mind.” He paused. “It’s my fault he was even able to emerge. I thought I had him under control, until I saw you with Montgomery in the garden. I’d gone to the party to apologize for what happened here the other day. But seeing you with him made me jealous, and it gave the Beast the weakness he was looking for.”

His words stirred all manner of feelings within me. My chest felt tight with warring emotions, to see him here so handsome among the roses, and pity for Mrs. Radcliffe, and among it all, though I would certainly be damned for even thinking it, the faintest twinges of flattery that the Beast would go to such lengths for me.

I cleared my throat. “I came to tell you that Montgomery is hunting you tonight, but he doesn’t know about this place. I didn’t tell him.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“I did it as much for him as for you. If the two of you met right now, I fear someone would end up dead, perhaps you both. In any case, Montgomery isn’t the worst of your worries. We overheard several members of the King’s Club discussing you tonight. Father was corresponding primarily with Mr. Radcliffe, but it seems the entire organization is involved. They know about you. Captain Claggan told them you were in London.”

Edward looked away. “It was impossible to hide the Beast for that long at sea. He emerged on Claggan’s ship and killed a few sailors. Claggan knew about Moreau’s work—he must have deduced that I was a creation.”

“Well, they’re trying to catch you. I’m not certain what their plans are yet, but they mentioned specimens, and I found a brain, of all things, in Mr. Radcliffe’s study. They said they needed to extract something from you. You can’t let yourself be caught.”

As he stepped closer, the golden flecks in his eyes caught in the light and almost glowed. He was Edward, but the Beast was bleeding through even now.

“Why are you warning me?” he asked.

A thousands reasons sprung to mind. That Edward and I weren’t so different. That I was at least in part responsible for his existence and thus his crimes. Guilt that I’d made love to him and then turned to Montgomery.

“We can’t afford for them to catch you,” I said at last, because it was the one reason that stood out from the tangled knot of my emotions. “They want to use you to re-create Father’s work.”

My voice faded, and the only sounds were Sharkey eating the canned ham and the wood in the small stove cracking. The chair by the hearth still bore the shape of my body. This place was an extension of myself, made of the same material as me. A place where I could have my secrets, like the boy looking at me now with simmering desire in his eyes.

“Is that the only reason?” he asked. His words were heavy with an implied question: Was this about father’s research—or the undeniable bond between us?

When I didn’t answer, he said softly, “Juliet, I can’t apologize enough.”

“Then don’t try,” I said quickly. “It wasn’t you anyway; it was the Beast.” I heard myself saying the words, and they sounded true enough, yet part of me still wondered where the line between the two of them truly lay. “Now that Montgomery is back, I shall try to convince him to help, though lord knows it won’t be an easy argument. He assisted Father in all the serums, so between the three of us, we’ll discover the missing ingredient. But you must give me time. Right now, he’s ready to sever your head if he sees you.”

I turned to go, but paused in the doorway and felt for a packet in my coat pocket. Sharkey barked, and Edward crouched down to rub his head. While his back was turned, I poured the packet of powdered valerian into his tea canister. I wished drugging him wasn’t my only option; and yet the Beast had taken over twice before Edward could chain him, and at least one person was dead because of it. Could I forgive myself if the Beast got free and hurt someone else?

I turned to go.

“Wait!” He picked up Sharkey and held him out to me. “Take him. He won’t leave my side, and I’m afraid one day soon I’ll transform before he can get away. The last thing I want is more innocent blood on my hands.” He paused. “I’ve grown quite fond of him.”

I hugged Sharkey to my chest and slipped out of the room. I paused on the landing, leaning my head against the wood paneling, struggling to tear myself away from the very tempting comforts of that dark attic.

I
LEFT
S
HARKEY IN
the professor’s garden overnight with a bowl of beef stew and an overturned box to keep him protected from the cold. As soon as I’d crawled back into my own bed, my knuckles started to swell and stiffen, heralding the fit that had been threatening for days. My whole body seemed to lock up, wracked with chills, as a headache behind my left eye sent shooting pain throughout my head. It was worse than any fit I’d ever had. Amid hallucinations of three-toed footprints on my ceiling, I recalled flashes of Montgomery injecting me with serums, and the professor’s worried eyes peering at me over his spectacles, and even Lucy’s face. But I couldn’t be certain which of those were real, and which were figments of my troubled sleep. In my grogginess, my mind kept going back to Father’s journal, the page that said fresh glycogen extracts were the most effective. But that meant animal vivisection, and the thought of strapping down Sharkey—or any living creature—made bitter bile crawl up my throat.