The Heartless City (16 page)

“Jennie,” he said, his throat going dry. “How did the Lord Mayor find out about the hand salve Cam gave to you?”

Her head jerked up and the shame rose into her throat, and Elliot knew.

“He found it in your room, didn’t he? He came into your room and―”

“He’s the Lord Mayor. He can go where he likes.”

She turned and hurried away from him without waiting to be dismissed, leaving her panic and shame inside his chest like a stinging barb. He ran a hand through his hair and wandered back through the State Dining Room, but then he saw a figure standing alone on the balcony, holding a cigarette and looking out over the garden. The figure’s back was turned, but Elliot knew it was Cam, so he stepped through the doors and out into the cold and silent night.

“How is she?” Cam asked without turning around, his voice as thin and ghostlike as the smoke curling up through the air.

Elliot glanced at his feet and bit his lip. “She’ll be all right.”

A hollow laugh escaped Cam’s throat. “Oh, El. When will you learn what a terrible liar you are?” He raised his hand and blew a cloud of smoke out over the garden. “She’ll hate me forever now. She should. You probably should as well.”

“Of course I don’t hate you,” he said, stepping toward him. “I never could.”

“You could. And you would, if you knew…” He paused, rubbed his brow, and threw his cigarette over the ledge. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, turning around. “What’s done is done.”

He walked away, his stomach churning with pain and self-disgust, and Elliot turned and followed him through the darkened dining room.

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No.” Cam stopped and then turned around. “Go meet with Iris. You deserve to be happy, El. Please. Just… go and be with her.” He tightened his jaw, his chest aching with both affection and envy, and then he turned around and started off toward the hallway.

“Cam, wait,” Elliot called. “I don’t think you should be alone. Why don’t you go and see Andrew and―”

“No!” He spun back around, and Elliot nearly stumbled off his feet, stunned by the pain that sprouted like a geyser from his heart. “I don’t need to go see Andrew! I don’t need to see anyone right now. I just…” He shook his head and pressed his fingers against his eyes. “I’m sorry, El. I really am. I just need to be alone.”

“That’s fine,” he murmured. “I… I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Cam let out a breath and lowered his hands. “Yes, tomorrow.” He opened his eyes and gave Elliot the best smile he could muster. “I’m sorry again. Give Iris my regards.” Then he turned and left.

Three hours later, at one in the morning, Elliot was sitting in the aviary alone. He’d waited, circled the zoo, crept through all its darkened offices, and then returned to the aviary and waited there some more. He even went back to
La Maison Des Fleurs
, but he didn’t find Iris there, either, so finally, at three in the morning, he gave up and trudged back home.

t dawn, the entire city was still and washed in a wet, grey light. Elliot’s body jostled against the passenger seat at the front of the carriage, his head aching as Milo guided the horse through the empty streets. He’d barely slept since going to bed at four and rising at six. All he could think of was Iris and why she hadn’t shown up last night.

Although, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d also been preoccupied with thoughts of Cam’s wellbeing. He’d crept up into his room when he got back from the aviary and thankfully found him safe and sleeping soundly in his bed, but while the sight had been a relief, it hadn’t erased the memory of his terror, pain, and shame. On his way back down to his room, he had also thought of Jennie, wondering if she ever slept soundly and wishing he didn’t know terrible things that he could do nothing about.

Now, as he and Milo slogged through the streets in search of bodies, he found himself thinking about the serum that started it all in the first place. Elliot had created it because he’d heard the Lord Mayor ask his father for a drug to remove compassion, but now that he really thought about it, Elliot couldn’t imagine why the Lord Mayor would
need
such a potion. There didn’t seem to be a compassionate bone in his whole body.

“You feeling all right, sir?” Milo asked.

Elliot rubbed his brow. “Milo, I’ve told you a hundred times. You can call me Elliot.”

“Sorry, sir,” he said, a surge of embarrassment heating his blood.

Elliot glanced at his reddened face and scrawny, awkward frame. “Don’t be sorry.” He sighed. “I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to be short with you, Milo. I didn’t get enough sleep.”

“No worries, sir. Only another hour or so and people will be coming out of their houses. Then we’ll either be heading home or, hopefully, to St. Thomas’s.”

Elliot nodded, rubbed his brow again, and looked back out at the road. He had a job to do, and he needed to pay attention. They’d begun to enter Somers Town, a central district of London a few miles west of the old King’s Cross, and soon, they’d be nearing Regents Park, where he had spent the early morning hours waiting for Iris.

“We’re too far west,” he said. “Let’s head back along the river. In the East End, we’re more likely to find…”
A poor person who’s starved or died of some illness
. “Something intact.”

“I’d like to check out this area first, sir―that is, if you don’t mind. A lot of dodgy establishments have been springing up here lately. We might find a bloke that’s been killed in a pub fight instead of by a Hyde.”

“All right,” Elliot acquiesced. “Let’s get out and go on foot.”

They dismounted, tied up the horse, and set off in opposite directions. Elliot shivered and turned up his collar, dodging puddles of vomit and piss that convinced him that Milo was right about the abundance of pubs in the area. His heart leapt when he spotted a man curled up beside a pushcart, but then he heard the rattling sound of his heavy, drunken snore. He let out a breath and crept past him, but before he could turn the corner, Milo’s screeching voice rang out from the other side of the street.

“Sir―Elliot―here! I think I found us a right fresh one.”

Both disgusted and grateful, Elliot followed Milo’s voice. After a moment, he found him in a narrow, unpaved alley. Milo waved him over and gestured toward a spot on the ground, where a girl lay sprawled on her stomach.

Wearing a dress of petal-pink.

“I haven’t turned her over yet, but I bet she’s got her heart. There ain’t no blood on the ground, see?”

Something was buzzing in Elliot’s ears, causing Milo’s voice to sound like a thin and distant hum. Slowly, he stumbled closer.

The girl had dark and curly hair.

“Come on,” Milo said, crouching beside her. “Let’s get us a look.”

Elliot didn’t move―the alley was tilting beneath his feet―so Milo turned her over himself.

And the world came to an end.

“See? I was right! She wasn’t killed by a Hyde―she’s got her heart.”

“No. She isn’t dead,” he said, his voice as distant as Milo’s.

“What are you saying? Of course she is.” He reached toward her, perhaps to check for reactions or feel a pulse, but Elliot flew to the ground and shoved him back against the wall.

“Get back! I told you she isn’t dead!” He couldn’t feel the earth beneath him, couldn’t see anything but Iris. The knife she always kept in her boot was lying beside her hand, and her eyes were closed, and her face was smeared with dirt, but there was no blood. “Look,” he said. “There’s no wound―not a mark on her body. It’s something else.”

“Sir, I already touched her. She’s cold.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s dead!”

He gripped his head in his hands. The world was spinning and nothing made sense.

“Sir, just touch her. Feel her pulse. I’m telling you she’s gone.”

Elliot squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a stabbing breath. His stomach lurched into his throat, but he forced himself to reach out and take her wrist between his fingers. Her skin was cold but supple, as if she had fallen asleep in a chilly room, but no matter how firmly he pressed or how hard he searched, he couldn’t find a pulse. He shook his head and couldn’t stop; his body started to rock.

“Sir, do you… did you know her?” Milo asked, his breath quickening.

Elliot doubled over, pain erupting inside his chest. He clutched her hand and pressed it against his forehead, willing her eyes to open.

“Wake up,” he moaned. “Come on, Iris. Wake up and talk to me.”

“Sir…” Milo said tentatively, rising to his feet. “Sir, we’ve got to go. We’ve got to get her to St. Thomas’s.”

Elliot’s pulse roared inside his ears. “No one’s going to touch her.”

“Sir, we have to take her. A whole, fresh body without any wounds―”

“She’s not a body!” He dropped her hand and scrambled up onto his feet. “No one’s going to touch her.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, sir, but there ain’t nothing else to be done―”

Elliot gripped the front of Milo’s coat and slammed him against the wall. “We’re not taking her to St. Thomas’s. I will tear my own heart out before I let them lay a hand on her.”

Milo swallowed, his throat swelling with panic. “Then where will you take her?”

Elliot closed his eyes and tightened his grip. He wanted her somewhere safe and warm and clean. “We’ll go to the palace.”

“The palace! Have you gone barmy? We can’t―”

“I’m taking her to the palace, Milo. You can help me or try to stop me, but either way, that’s where I’m going.”

Milo looked around as if for help, his face starting to sweat. Finally, he nodded and said, “All right. I’ll help you take her.”

A strange and eerie calm came over Elliot as they lifted Iris and carried her back to the carriage. His eyes were open, but he didn’t see. His muscles strained, but he didn’t feel them. Once they’d placed her inside, he automatically started to climb in beside her, but then he realized Milo might change his mind and drive to St. Thomas’s, so he closed the door and hoisted himself up into the passenger seat. They didn’t speak on the way to the palace, and―for once―Elliot didn’t know what Milo was feeling, because he couldn’t feel anything at all. Not even himself.

They pulled up next to the stables in the rear, beside the garden, and before Milo could stop him, Elliot leapt from his seat, opened the carriage door, and picked up Iris.