Princess of Lust (For the Love of Evil) (20 page)

Christopher’s voice intruded into her thoughts. “Eliza, how do you feel?”

Eliza? Who was Eliza? She wished he would go away and leave her alone.

A hand slapped her cheek but it didn’t bother her. “Eliza, how do you feel?”

Maybe if she answered him he’d go away. “Good, so good. Better than anything. Bliss.”

He made a low sigh and traced his hand down her cheek. “That’s a good girl. Does your shoulder hurt?”

She laughed in complete joy, hugging herself and relishing the bliss coursing through her. Even the constant ache of missing her men had vanished. “No, nothing hurts. Not even my heart.” She managed to open her eyes, wanting to express to him how wonderful it was, wanting him to see her sincerity. “Amazing.”

He smiled and rolled her sleeve back in place, buttoning the edges. “Let’s get you off the floor.”

She tried to stand, but she just didn’t care, about anything. In fact, he could have left her lying on the floor all day and it wouldn’t have bothered her. Spiders could weave their webs between her fingers and she’d just enjoy the sensation of their legs touching her skin. A sense of comfort enveloped her, as if she were being cradled in her mother’s arms.

“I miss my mother,” she said in a faint voice as Christopher dragged her to a long sofa beneath the window.

“Well, you can go visit her in a few days,” he replied in an absent voice as he tucked a faded quilt around her shoulders.

Sorrow tried to push through the euphoria, but it couldn’t breech the silken cocoon the drug had swathed her in. “No, she’s dead. The demons killed her and the man I thought was my father.” Outside the window, a bird flew over the building and she almost wept at the beauty of it.

Christopher held her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “Eliza, what did you just say?”

She pursed her lips and got lost in the sensation of her facial muscles moving. He gripped her chin harder, but it didn’t hurt. “Eliza, look at me. What did you say?”

“My name isn’t Eliza, it’s Natalia. Princess Natalia.” She giggled at his confused expression. “I’m here to help you save Heaven and Hell.”

His thick brows drew into a solid line. “Stop this nonsense at once.”

“Oh, it’s not nonsense.” She sighed as he released her chin and closed her eyes. “I wish I could show you some magic that would make you believe me, but I’m afraid I’m not demon enough yet.” She smiled and relished the sensation of the sunlight warming her skin.

The couch shifted as Christopher sat at the other end. For a long time he didn’t say anything, but she didn’t care. She’d found Heaven on earth and never wanted the feeling to end. She drifted off to sleep, listening to the sounds of him working in his laboratory.

***

The next morning a maid woke her from her deep sleep and told her Mr. Wright waited for her in the laboratory. It took her longer than usual because her whole body ached, and shortly after rising, she threw up the contents of her mostly empty stomach. Looking into the small mirror over the washbasin, she struggled to get herself under control. It didn’t help her confused mind that the face looking back at her was Eliza’s, not her own.

After wrapping a shawl about her shoulders, she hurried across the small cobblestone courtyard from the servant’s quarters to the laboratory. Christopher waited for her with a tray of hot biscuits and tea. The pounding in her head increased and a cold seemed to consume her from deep within.

Trying to appear normal, she took a seat on the opposite side of the table from Christopher. Something had happened yesterday after he’d given her the drug, but the details were fuzzy. All she could remember was how incredibly good she had felt. After taking a sip of the tea, regular tea now instead of the usual calming brew, she waited for him to speak.

“Eat,” was all he said as he continued to watch her.

So she did, managing to choke down a dry bit of bread while her stomach clenched and rebelled. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t remember what she had done. She bitterly wished the pot held some of the calming tea because she felt like she hovered on the edge of losing her mind.

“So, Eliza, how do you feel?”

“A little ill, and tired.” She glanced at him and back to her breakfast. “Did I do something to upset you?”

He rubbed his cheeks and she noted for the first time how weary he looked. “Do you remember anything you said or did yesterday?”

She slowly chewed, trying to buy herself some time. “Before or after you gave me the drug?”

“After.”

She must have done something to upset him, but she couldn’t remember. “Honestly, I have no idea, Mr. Wright. After you gave me the injection it’s all a pleasant blur.”

Some of the tension went out of his shoulders and he toyed with his teacup. “So no memory of demons?”

Her cup chattered against the edge of the saucer as she put it down. “Demons, sir?”

“Yes.” He fingered his collar and looked chagrined. “You said something about demons killing your mother.”

She laughed, hoping he didn’t notice how forced it sounded. “Oh, dear. I must have given you quite a fright.”

“You did.” He stood and wiped his hands with a white cloth napkin from the table. “I’ve sent samples of the drug over to Mr. Pierce over at Owens College for further testing.”

“Testing? It worked, didn’t it?” She swallowed and tried to think past the cold seeping into her bones. “Isn’t it the cure for opium addiction?”

He shrugged, and his bushy eyebrows drew together. “It is far too soon to make that judgment without more experimentation. You’ve been without morphine or opium for about twenty-four hours now. How do you feel?”

She felt horrible, but she couldn’t tell him that, not when he was so close to succeeding in curing opium addiction. “I feel good. Tired but good.”

“No cravings? No pain or nausea?”

“No, not at all,” she lied with a smile. So what if she did have all of the above? It was because of the demonic side of her soul reacting to the religious icons, she was sure of it. Why, right now they sat beneath a gigantic cross on the wall that Christopher said had been blessed by the pope. No wonder she felt out of sorts.

He nodded and lifted the napkin next to his plate, revealing a filled syringe. “I altered the formula a bit last night. Haven’t slept a wink but I wanted to get it just right.” He stroked the syringe with his fingertip. “Just think, if this works I’ll be the man who saves humanity from the addictive scourge of opium.”

She took another bite of bread and nodded, trying to appear attentive to his words but instead thinking that soon she would be going home, to Hell. She had to hold on just a little bit longer, help Christopher get it right so he could share the formula with the rest of the world as soon as possible.

“You haven’t had your laudanum or morphine yet today. I know that normally you would be hurting right now, but you’re not.” He moved his chair over and sat next to her, his sour breath polluting the air between them and making her already queasy stomach lurch. “If this continues to work I’ll be able to free hundreds of thousands of people from opium’s hold.” His eyes blazed with conviction. “No more opium dens, no more starving children because their parents smoke all of their money away.” He held up the syringe, the clear liquid catching the light from the gas lanterns and the faintest hint of dawn creeping over the horizon. “This may be the answer, but I need to know if it works. It could be the miracle we’ve been looking for.”

Without another word, she fumbled with the buttons of her sleeve and rolled it up, exposing her arm to the burning kiss of the needle.

***

The next week flowed by in a blur of waking, forcing herself to eat, then allowing Christopher to inject her with the drug. It got to the point where she didn’t care about anything but the slide of the miracle medicine into her vein and the bliss that followed. It wasn’t as good as the first time, but it still blew all of her preconceived notions about pleasure out of the water. Even better, Christopher was now convinced he’d found the cure for morphine addiction.

The only hard part was remembering who she was. She continued to slip while under the influence of the drug, and Christopher was becoming more concerned about her mental state. He’d talked of not giving her the drug anymore, but she’d wept and begged him to continue. She lied and told him how terrified she was of falling under the spell of morphine again, how a little bit of harmless babbling was nothing compared to the benefit of no longer dealing with that terrible craving.

Being around so many religious objects continued to torment her, but thankfully the medication Christopher gave her made that pain disappear. It also made her forget how lonely she was, gave her the courage to continue the charade. All of her worry vanished beneath the wave of euphoria washing through her system with each injection. Christopher still hadn’t tried it himself, but he was eagerly awaiting the results from Dr. Pierce at Owens College. She thought he might be scared to try it, but she couldn’t figure out why. Who wouldn’t want to feel like God was holding them in the palm of his hand and surrounding them with his love. This had to be the reason she was sent here, to show Christopher that his drug was a miracle. How could something that felt this good be anything but?

No one from Hell had come to tell her that her job there was done yet, so she worked harder to convince Christopher he was doing the right thing. She thought Pyriel might have tried to contact her at night a few times, but she wasn’t sure. The days continued to slide by and she wanted to contact her father in Hell, but Christopher kept her on a tight leash and each time she’d tried to leave, one of the other servants would bar the way, saying they didn’t want another incident landing her in the hospital.

One rainy afternoon, she lay on the couch beneath the window, watching the water stream down the pane. It was such a beautiful sight that she found herself wiping away tears, awed by the exquisiteness of the world. An hour before, Christopher had given her another injection when she began to complain about feeling the need for morphine and now she floated in bliss.

The door leading to the courtyard opened and unfamiliar men’s voices filled the room. She struggled to think of who they were and remembered Christopher saying something about their benefactor stopping by today. She slowly sat up and straightened her dress, smoothing the white apron down the front and making sure all of her hair was carefully stuffed beneath the cap. Christopher hated anything being in a state of disarray, and she didn’t want him angry with her for any reason.

Besides, this was what she had come here to do. Convince his benefactor to help spread this miracle drug around the world and halt the advance of opium.

Christopher’s voice came floating over the room as heavy boots tromped across the wooden floors. “I have grave misgivings about diacetylmorphine. I received a letter from Mr. Pierce yesterday saying it appears as if the drug is even more addictive than morphine.”

Natalia’s heart lurched as a man’s voice, thick with a Russian accent, filled the air. It sounded so familiar. “I’m sure you are both overreacting.”

She could make out their forms now, coming closer but still hidden by the lab equipment. Christopher stopped and lowered his tone. “I’ve tested it out on my lab assistant as well. She is heavily addicted to it, but that’s not the worst part. She believes she is a demon.”

Laughter boomed through the room, echoing in her mind. She knew that laugh, had heard a slightly different version of it from Gregor. Terror froze her in place, the drugs addling her mind and making escape impossible. When the men finally came into sight she gave a high, almost soundless scream.

The man standing before her with Christopher had to be Gregor’s grandfather. Despite the age difference, the family resemblance was clear. The same dark red hair, now liberally threaded with silver, the same dark brown eyes with the Tartar tilt at the corners that gave them an exotic feel. The fear momentarily cleared her mind, and she despaired at what an utter and complete fool she’d been. A second burly man joined them and her heart slammed into her ribs so hard she thought she might pass out.

“No, no, no,” she whispered in a broken voice as Christopher rushed next to her and tried to calm her. She clutched his jacket in desperation. “Christopher, these men serve demons. I’m not sick; this isn’t the drug talking. They serve Belal! You must not give them what they want!”

Christopher looked both annoyed and sad as he held her hands. “Calm yourself, girl. These aren’t demons. They are respected members of the community. Mr. Trezent runs a poor house for those addicted to opium and morphine; you know that.”

Behind Christopher’s back, Mr. Trezent stared at her with so much hatred she was surprised she didn’t burst into flames. There was no doubt he saw through her illusion. “No, Christopher, that man serves Belal!” She struggled against his hold, reaching in vain for her demonic essence to give her the power to escape his clutches, but that part of her soul was buried by the drug still coursing through her veins. How stupid she had been, how self-indulgent. Of course the drug was what Belal was after. They had been so wrong. She wasn’t supposed to help Christopher. She was supposed to stop him, but now it was too late.

Mr. Trezent nodded to his bodyguard and the burly man swiftly pried her hands from Christopher’s jacket, pinning her to his chest. She went wild, screaming and thrashing, biting anything that came near her. Her cap fell off and her hair obscured her vision as panic reduced her to an animalistic state. Glass crashed and she blew her hair from her eyes and scrambled across the floor to where a rack of beakers had fallen off the table.

Seizing a jagged piece of glass, she held it to her throat, making a shallow cut that seeped blood. “Don’t let them take me, Christopher, please!”

Christopher stared at her in horror, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “Eliza, darling, Mr. Trezent won’t hurt you. He is going to take you to the best hospital in Europe for treatment for your addiction. I’m so sorry.”