Camille (24 page)

“Naturally, what better person to help you
look for the cat.” He walked to the far corner of the dark room and
yanked a blue book from the center of a stack, disturbing only the
coating of dust. He paused in the doorway and looked back at us in
a manner that made it clear he wanted us out of his office. We
obliged.

A steady drizzle fell outside on what seemed
to be an interminably long day. Dr. Bennett and I exchanged harsh
and accusatory glances all day. He seemed to pop up wherever
Strider and I tried to steal a moment alone.

Strider was like a small boy in church
waiting for a tedious sermon to end. He could not sit still for a
moment. I was uneasy as well, but my mind was too heavy with
plotting to give in to the restlessness. By the time the dreary
shadows of late afternoon had vanished, I had a complete plan.

I knocked lightly at the guest bedroom even
though the door was not shut. No answer prompted me to peek inside.
The room was dark except for the white of Strider’s shirt. His
hands were on either side of the window as he looked down at the
street below. His broad shoulders spanned the pane. I walked to
him, pressed my cheek against his back, and wrapped my arms around
his waist. He did not stir but continued to stare out the
window.

“How will this all end, Camille?” I clung to
him, yet his voice sounded distant.

My arms squeezed him harder. “I’ve found my
prince. I shan’t accept anything but a fairy tale ending.”

He dropped his hands from the sides of the
window and twisted around to face me. He lifted me closer to him.
“In fairy tales there is usually some type of magic to fix
things.”

“No need for any witch’s spell.” I lifted my
hand and tapped my temple. “Just a little ingenuity.” I reached up
and buttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and patted his chest.
“Now, I need you to leave quietly while John is reading at the
fire.”

Hurt washed over his expression. “You want me
to leave, then?” He released his hold on me.

His coat was draped over the end of his bed.
I walked over, picked it up, and handed it to him. “Wait for me on
the bench in the park where you found me the other night. I’ll meet
you there soon.”

His shoulders relaxed as if he’d been holding
his breath. “You’re coming with me tonight? Aren’t you
frightened?”

“Of what?” I amazed myself at how cavalier I
could sound at a moment’s notice. In reality, my insides were
churning like the sea in a heavy storm. I’d never done anything
like this without Dr. Bennett by my side. But tonight I would be
without him. Tonight I didn’t want him anywhere near the prey.

Strider shrugged in to his seaman’s coat. He
looked so handsome; I popped up to my toes and kissed him. It
caught him by surprise. He stared at me for a long moment, and I
felt my heartbeat move up to my throat.

“Camille, I should go alone.”

“Nathaniel Strider, you sit at that bench and
wait for me, or I’ll never speak to you again.”

He grabbed both my arms and pulled me to him.
“But you didn’t say you’ll never kiss me again.”

“A girl can’t be expected to give up
everything she fancies.”

His mouth covered mine, and I was glad he
held on to my arms for, surely, I would have sunk to the floor in a
heap.

I pushed away from him. “You must hurry,
Nathaniel. And be stone silent as you leave here.”

He straightened his shoulders and saluted
me.

“Off with you. I have something to take care
of here, then I’ll join you.” I poked my head into the hall. “Go.”
I waved him past. Practiced thief that he was, he had no trouble
exiting the front door without any disturbance. I watched him leave
then pressed my eyes closed for a moment. Please just one fairy
tale ending.

A man of science was generally also a man of
routine, and even on this night where the tension in the house was
thick enough to slice with an ax, Dr. Bennett settled into his
chair by the fire for his evening read. Even though I knew a pistol
weighed heavy in his pocket, waiting to destroy the boy I loved,
there was nothing sinister or different about his demeanor as he
stared down through his eyeglasses at the book in his lap.

The glass clinked against the plate of tea
cakes as I lowered a tray to the table. “I thought you might enjoy
a glass of port with the cakes Maggie left.”

His blue eyes peered up over the rim of his
glasses.

“I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you
earlier.” I’d practiced the apology several times in the kitchen to
be sure it sounded earnest.

He leaned forward and picked up the glass of
wine. “It has been a long month, Camille, for all of us. Where’s
Nathaniel?”

It was a question I’d expected, and I was
ready with my answer. “He fell asleep hours ago.”

He sipped his wine, and silently, I prayed
that the flavor of the port was strong enough to mask the bitter
taste of the chloral hydrate. I offered him a cake just to be sure
the aftertaste would not be noticed either. He waved it aside.

He took another sip then looked at me. A fake
smile froze on my face. I was unsure of what he was about to say. I
knew this part of my plan would be the most difficult. “Camille, I
want you to take a cab to Bethlem tonight. Stay with your
sister.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he put up
his hand to stop me.

“Do not fight me on this, Cami. I insist you
go. I’ve arranged everything, and they’re expecting you. After the
accident with the laudanum, the hospital employees are more than
happy to oblige me with any request. You’ll be safe with Emily.” He
took a longer sip of wine, and I wondered when the chemical would
take hold of him.

“And just like that, I’m to forget Nathaniel
and let you murder him in his sleep.”

My eyes followed the glass as he placed it on
the table. He’d consumed only a third of it. I had no idea if it
would be enough. He leaned back against the chair as if he were
growing weary. “It will not be like that, Camille. I intend to let
him have a running start.”

“Very sporting of you, John.” At this moment,
standing in the warm orange room where we’d had so many
lighthearted conversations and deep intellectual debates, I hated
the man. I knew deep down everything he did was to protect me, but
his cold heartedness toward my feelings angered me.

I clamped my jaw shut tightly as he picked up
the glass again. His eyelids grew heavy as each moment passed. My
plan was working. He would be fast asleep soon.

“I’m going to dress for my trip to Bethlem,”
I said with a feigned tone of resignation as if I was going along
fully with his suggestion.

His eyes popped open then shut again. I
grabbed the glass before it fell from his grasp and returned it to
the table. How badly I would have liked to finish it, so I could
just sleep through the next twelve hours. But I had to go and save
my prince, not from a silver bullet but from himself.

The heavy mantle of rain clouds thinned as we
climbed into a cab for the ride to the cemetery. Moisture in the
atmosphere seemed to color the moon crimson, and the angry glow
showered down on us from the clearing sky. The unnatural warmth
radiating from my carriage mate should have terrified me, but I
could not feel anything but comfort in being pressed against
Strider’s side.

Earlier rain had produced its share of
crevices in the road, and the lightweight cab managed to strike all
of them. I wrapped my arms around Strider’s to keep from being
tossed out. But he did not touch me. His hands were clamped tightly
between his knees as if he attempted to restrain himself. I peered
up from under my hood and watched the side of his face. The muscle
in his jaw twitched wildly as he stared straight ahead. I opened my
mouth to say something reassuring but stopped. It would sound
ridiculous coming from someone who had never experienced what he
was now feeling. But then my curious nature took hold, and I
realized I had the opportunity to talk intimately with a human who
was going through the transformation. The question of what it felt
like always plagued me just as it had apparently plagued my
father.

“How does it feel, Nathaniel?”

Strider closed his eyes and turned his face
up to the sky. Moonlight illuminated his extraordinary profile. He
sat like that for a long moment before lowering his chin and
opening his eyes. “Nothing can stop me. I could stand on the tracks
facing a hurtling train and it would merely bounce off my chest and
splinter into a million pieces.” He pulled his hands from between
his legs and grabbed the edges of the seat. The muscle of his arm
hardened beneath my grasp. His chest rose and fell with solid
breaths. “And my thoughts, my thoughts have receded to a black
corner in my mind as if I was six years old crouched behind my
mother’s dressing mirror, the skin on my back still aflame with the
sting of my father’s whip, planning my father’s demise.” He glanced
up at the driver’s back. “I could tear that man limb from limb with
one hand.” His fingers whitened as he gripped the seat edge harder,
cracking the wood frame beneath the leather.

Curiosity brought my father to his grave, and
mine would surely be the end of me too, but I had to know. I had to
know if there was any chance that love could be stronger than this
thing taking hold of him. It was not for my father, but the
attachment I felt for Strider was sharper.

“And me? Do you want to tear me limb from
limb as well?”

The right wheel dropped into a deep rut and
the cab lurched sideways, nearly pitching me out. Strider’s arms
were around me instantly. The vehicle righted, and he released me
as quickly as he had grabbed me. He stared out at the road again.
“I feel that I want to, no, need to hold you against me hard and
permanently, so hard that I would no doubt squeeze the life from
you. And that thought is more agonizing than anything. I want you,
every inch of you so badly, I would not be able to control
myself.”

I reached for his hand, but he pulled it
away. He leaned forward. “Stop the cab!”

“But we have several blocks to go.” I’d
pushed him too far.

The driver halted the horses and swiveled on
the seat to look at us. “Take her the rest of the way.” Strider
looked down at the floor of the cab. He wouldn’t look at me. I must
get out of here, Camille. I’ll go the rest of the way on foot.”

“But. . .”

“I will meet you there. Please, Camille.”

I slumped back against the seat and watched
as he climbed out. He did not look back at me once. The driver
flicked his whip, and the cab rolled forward. When we reached the
cemetery entrance, the driver seemed pleased to be rid of me. With
his grayish skin tone, deep set eyes and oversized nose, he
resembled a stone raven as he stuck out a gloved hand for payment.
I placed two pound notes on his palm, and his beady eyes
widened.

“Could you please stay and wait for me. I
shan’t be but an hour.”

His fist closed around the money and nodded.
I jumped down from the carriage. Once I’d seen that Strider was
safely ensconced in the tomb, I would head home and wait. If my
plan was successful, only the inside of the marble mausoleum and
the remains of the people buried there would see damage with his
rampage. Then he could return to his human form, and I would have
him released in the morning. Another pound note should suffice for
that to be done without a word to authorities. That was my plan,
and I was convinced I’d seen to every detail, except I had not
foreseen Strider’s grim mood.

I started up the path when my plan took
another unexpected turn. The wheels on the cab creaked. The driver
had turned the vehicle, and it now clamored back the way it came.
“And with the bloody pound notes,” I muttered as I watched the cab
get smaller and then disappear.

Hours of steady drizzle had left the path
leading up to the cemetery gate soft as butter. My boots left an
imprint with every step. But mine were the only track marks leading
to the entrance. I convinced myself not to worry. After all, he had
gone on foot and even though the cab moved like a lame horse over
the uneven, soaked ground, it could have easily outpaced someone on
foot. Even someone with the strength of a wild animal.

Strider’s mood had blackened quickly during
the trip, and his words haunted me. As I stood there smothered in
the silent atmosphere that only an abandoned cemetery can provide,
my own thoughts darkened. Why was I never allowed happiness? Only I
could manage to find true love with a sinister twist attached to
it. For other girls, it’s a glimpse across the room under
glittering candle light, a chaste dance across the floor, and a
polite but intimate hand up into the family carriage. I wrapped my
arms around myself to guard against the cold and the fright and a
laugh escaped me. What a mundane existence those other girls lived.
I really didn’t envy their prudent lifestyle as peaceful and
harmless as it sounded. Truly passionate love was impossible under
those constraints, and I would not have traded the unfettered
flirting and kisses for anything. Except maybe a happy ending right
now, tonight, beneath the solid moon.

I glanced around at my surroundings but
didn’t dare wander from the path. The site was surrounded by thick
foliage as if the entire cemetery were encased in a tomb of trees.
My heart sped its pace not from fear of what was out there, but
from fear that I’d lost him. He’d trusted me this far, but his
restlessness in the cab was palpable.

Remnants of the storm clouds drifted in front
of the moon dousing the light it provided. Coldness surrounded me,
but it was dread that chilled the blood in my veins. He was out
there somewhere, my love, the boy who owned my heart, and in hours
he would murder anything in his path. And the one person in that
path, alone and unprotected, was me. Yet that thought was not as
horrifying as the thought of never seeing or being kissed by
Nathaniel Strider again.