Beloved Monster (6 page)

“Say the name I gave you.”

“Uuuukkk…”

Close enough.
After grabbing a handful of the cloth, she pulled the canvas up to his neck, covering him completely. No more of this, she must find Reed--and quickly. They had much to discuss. For Glenna had the feeling Luke would be up and moving around fairly soon.

* * * *

Luke had no idea how much time passed since Glenna left. After concentrating and practicing, he could move all the fingers on his right hand. This time he felt the motion, but lifting it from the table proved to be impossible. While he did that, he also tried to tame his tongue into forming coherent words. Able to shift his head from side to side a little more, he noticed numerous bottles on a shelf near the small window.
Arsenic.
He could read the label and knew the contents. A poison. Slowly, more of the haze began to lift from his mind. Feeling crept back into his extremities with the slow, leisurely roll of an early morning fog. “Rrrrsssnik…” he managed to say, spittle rolling down his chin. Without thinking, he lifted his right hand from under the canvas to wipe it away.
Good God.
The arm moved. Shocked, he lowered it immediately.

One thing he had felt: Glenna softly brushing her delicate fingers across his forehead. His skin sizzled with awareness under her touch. The moan that left his lips had been of pure bliss. And arousal. Deep down he knew the erection they spoke of came about when he looked at Glenna and stared into her beautiful eyes. How he craved to experience the sensation again. Someone to touch him. The comforting warmth of human connection. Now that he was beginning to regain feeling throughout his body, he could accomplish much more; he was sure of it.

By the looks of the equipment about the room, he lay in some sort of laboratory. All evidence pointed to the fact he’d been part of an experiment, as this Reed stated. In what or for what, he could not hazard to guess. In the meantime, he would lie perfectly still. Watch and learn. Reveal nothing. Then, when he was able, he would make a move.

And escape.

After climbing the stairs, Glenna searched the many rooms of Reed’s rambling Gothic home. At last, she finally found him sitting at the dining room table, a container of amber liquid before him. He clasped a glass and drank, his face clearly showing anger and disgust.

Without lifting his gaze to meet hers, he poured himself another Scotch. “It was not supposed to live, you see,” Reed murmured. “None of the mammals did for any length of time. Besides, the viscount lay in a coma before expiring. All indications pointed to a head wound that would maim him for life--if he had survived.” Reed threw back the Scotch, winced, and poured more into his glass. “I believed it would twitch a bit, then--slip away. Back where it belonged and where it was destined to be. Into the great beyond. Death. I am drinking now, Glenna, for courage. I will need it for what needs to be done next.”

Glenna slipped into the chair next to him, tempted to pour herself a tumbler of alcohol. “And what needs to be done next?”

“I have to end it and return the body to the grave. There is nothing else for it. It is as you said and I should have listened. The thing is an abomination. A gross insult against nature. Against all the rules of man. A monster. I
am
Frankenstein.” Reed threw back the contents of the glass, wincing again as he swallowed.

Glenna seized his arm and held it, not allowing him to pour anymore. “You listen to me, Reed. What’s done is done. He lives. Ravenswood is not an ‘it’ or a ‘monster.’ Instead, he is what you made him. He is alive, he breathes, and he can think. And he is starting to stir as he managed to wiggle a finger. How long before he is up and perambulating about the cellar? Not only that, he is trying to talk. I gave him a name, Luke, and I told him to say it. He nearly did. Apparently he does not remember his previous life. How long that will last, who knows….”

Reed wrenched his arm away and poured another. “All the more reason to end its existence. You gave it a name? I apologize. ‘
Him.’
He is not a stray dog to be taken in and given shelter. Do you think it wise to choose a variation of his given name?”

“It is the first one that sprung to my mind. It will serve. Like it or not, like a pet, he is your--our--responsibility,” Glenna replied firmly. Truly, she could not believe Reed was even thinking about ending Luke’s life. He had become their responsibility; she assisted Reed and played a part in this, and as such would accept accountability for the deed. Now to convince Reed to do the same.

He laughed, but it held no mirth. “By all means, let us keep him chained in the cellar. And what if he gets loose? Will Ravenswood terrorize the countryside? Will he be recognized and hunted down complete with torches, pitchforks, and hounds snapping at his heels? We cannot take the chance. I cannot even begin to fathom the implications of a walking dead man.”

Anger tore through her. “Then you should have thought of the repercussions,” Glenna snapped. “How utterly irresponsible of you to not consider every angle before attempting your mad, arrogant experiment. The deed is done. You will not commit murder to cover your tracks, nor will you turn from your accountability in this. Deal with the consequences. First, you need to reset the fractured leg. Then you will examine him. You will treat Luke with respect and kindness. He is
not
dead. His heart beats. He’s alive.”

Reed glared at her. “Since when did you become so blasted demanding? Not sure I like it. At any rate, the kindest thing I could do for it--for Luke--is to slip him a large dose of poison. I have arsenic downstairs. It would be over quickly. Then I can see to his being reburied.”

A chill ran up Glenna’s spine. “No. You will not. If you don’t want to be like the fictional Frankenstein, then do not turn away from what you have done. Do
not
reject him or try to kill him. You should be compassionate. We both should. Promise me you will stand tall and act with honor. I know you are not a cruel man, Reed. Prove it.”

Reed visibly deflated and pushed aside the decanter. “Oh, go away, Glenna. You have made me weary beyond words. Leave me alone.”

How tempting it would be to smash him over the head with the carafe. She stood and fought to contain her anger and her growing disappointment. “That is too feeble a response. Wallow in self-pity. I, for one, am going to care for Luke.”

She marched out of the dining room and slammed the door behind her. For all her brave words and declarations, Glenna had no idea what to do next.

* * * *

Luke could hear the faint sound of raised voices above him, but he could not make out the exact words. Obviously they were arguing about him. He stared at the gas lights overhead. The decided hiss was the only sound in the room except for mice scurrying about beyond the laboratory. Since the cousins left, his eyesight cleared and the swirling colors disappeared. If only his mind could be as sharp and free from uncertainty. Since he could move his head from side to side now, he was able to take in more of the room and its contents.

A sick feeling of foreboding curled about his spine. All indications pointed to him being used as a subject for bizarre experimentation. The cousins said as much. How annoying he could not remember his name or anything about his past. There was a chance he’d been destitute and alone and therefore an easy target for an unscrupulous exploitation. Glaring at his raised right hand, he studied it closely. This was not the hand of a farmer or laborer. Luke still could not raise his left arm, which was covered by the canvas, as his entire left side remained paralyzed.

Logically, he surmised he could not have come from humble beginnings since he possessed an educated mind. He could read the labels on the bottles sitting on the shelves and knew what most of them were. The nails on his right hand were clean, well manicured, and his fingers free from calluses. There were a number of burns and scrapes, but he chalked that up to whatever had happened to him. With slow deliberation, he explored his face. Abrasions. Then his fingers trailed across his left cheek. He froze. Raised skin, and…stitches. Moaning softly, Luke pulled his hand away in horror.

Maimed. Perhaps he had lain in a hospital bed with no identity or chance of survival. Searching in his cloudy memory, he remembered hearing of many dead destitute people finding their way to doctors and scientists’ examination tables and their cadavers used for all sorts of anatomical exploration and teaching. Could this have been his fate? How in hell could he remember such a fact but not his own name or past history?

The woman, Glenna, bustled into the room, giving him a brief smile. “My cousin, Reed, will be down directly to reset your left leg. It’s fractured.”

Right, he recalled her saying that very thing when he’d first awoken. Yet, Luke did not experience any pain. Fleetingly, he thought he would attempt to speak, but inner caution bade him to continue to remain silent.

“I am not sure whether to offer you food or drink. Perhaps not. The time is growing late. In the morning I shall. Best you rest here for tonight.” Glenna gently lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath. The soft comfort caused a moan of pleasure to escape his lips. “I also brought a blanket. I’ll just toss it over the canvas. I believe you will be warm enough.”

“Whhhiiiii…”
Damn. So much for remaining quiet.

“Why are you here?”

He blinked once.

“I will tell you more in the morning. For now, you should rest.” Her voice comforted him, gentle and feminine and laced with compassion and sympathy. How he longed for her to touch him. To feel the light brush of her fingers on his skin, especially now that feeling was beginning to return. Glenna laid the blanket over him. “It is quite chilly. Do you wish another blanket?”

Two blinks. He couldn’t feel the cold, and the only warmth he experienced was when she touched him. How extraordinary.
Touch me, please,
he longed to say.

“Well, then. I will say good night.”

She hurried from the room, and he was bereft at her departure.

* * * *

Glenna had a devil of a time falling to sleep, but eventually managed a few hours. How to wrap her mind around the fact that Ravenswood lay in the cellar below, reanimated. Breathing.
Alive.
All the old, long forgotten memories flooded her thoughts. Every touch, kiss, and finally, his cold and cruel rejection. How could she summon the compassion needed to care for him? Luke? One thing she did notice. As she observed earlier, his multi-colored eyes held none of the frosty disdain of Ravenswood. Instead she’d seen kindness. Concern and puzzlement of course, but a genuine tenderness she’d never, ever seen in Ravenswood’s icy-blue gaze.

Not that she could claim a close acquaintance with Ravenswood. They met several times in the village, then again at the hunter’s hunt. But the encounters were enough for her to come to the conclusion the viscount was not an honorable man, nor one to feel empathy. Though temporarily lost in her fantasies, she’d seen his true personality clear enough at the hut. In his gaze she’d seen lust mixed with anger. In truth, the assignation could have taken a horrible turn. The viscount could have violated her since they were alone and in the woods where no one would hear her screams. Thankfully, he departed, leaving her unsullied. No, Luke did not have the same expression of cool indifference on his face or the look of superiority in his gaze that Ravenswood had.

Sitting upright, she pulled the blankets to her chin. The realization hit her. They were
not
the same man. Ravenswood and Luke were separate beings. In fact she was quite sure of it. From the beginning, the moment he awoke, she thought of them as such. Why she came to such a conclusion she could not say, but felt it deeply and with a surety of purpose. How to convince Reed? The most shocking and disconcerting thing? Glenna was as drawn to Luke as she’d been to Ravenswood.

* * * *

Since Mrs. Grampton and Anna were still away, breakfast preparation fell on Glenna. Not a skilled cook, she could at least manage fried eggs and ham. Reed sat in the dining room waiting with arms crossed as she carried in their two plates and laid them on the table.

“It still lives,” Reed spat, disgust clear in his tone. “I examined the creature first thing. Sorry I did. It has put me right off my breakfast.”

Glenna sighed in exasperation. “What did I tell you? Not ‘it.’ Cease this behavior this minute. Give me a moment and I will fetch the tea.” She returned, and Reed still pouted at her reprimand. Glenna poured the tea for them both and sat. For the better part of the meal they ate in silence. “Did you set the fracture?” she asked finally.

“Yes, last night as you instructed. No, I did not speak to
him
, or even look at
him
.”

Cutting into her egg, she said, “We must tell Luke of the circumstances surrounding his presence in our cellar.”

Reed’s mouth dropped open. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am serious. Have you given any thought to what I said last night? You cannot turn your back on your responsibility. He is a human being and deserves your respect and compassion.”

“How dare you lecture me?” Reed sputtered.

Glenna raised her chin in defiance. “I do dare. I thought you a better man.”

His insolence melted away, exposing his conflicted state. “I am, cousin. I swear I am. I also promise not to turn my back on--Luke. However, I do not think it is wise to relay his past life at this time. We should allow things to develop as they may. See if he can recall his former self on his own. The shock may be too great.” Reed paused, then tapped the table with the tip of his finger. “And I must clarify one point: He is
not
a human being because he no longer possesses a soul. I doubt he can feel anything as complicated as emotions. He breathes. He exists. That may be the extent of his reactions. Do not look for something that is not there.”

Glenna was stunned. “How do you know he no longer has a soul? I thought you did not believe in such twaddle?”

Reed cut his ham into bite-sized pieces. “I am not speaking in religious terms, but the essence of what it means to be a human. Alive. Luke’s is gone. It disappeared when he died. Hence, he is no longer a human being.”