The Hidden Library (38 page)

“Why do you think we landed in 1905BUR-LP?” I ask shortly after we ask a drenched newspaper boy directions. We’re moving in the right direction, thank God.

Finn doesn’t answer right away. In fact, all he does is offer up some kind of worrisome grunt before stumbling, and that only solidifies my resolve to get to Sara’s house as quickly as possible. It takes us nearly half an hour before we finally arrive, and when we do, I’m left doing a double take.

Sara’s home is large and gray, its walls stretching a good distance on either side of a fancy door and elaborate columns. I knew she was well off—hell, everyone at the Institute gossiped like crazy when she left us to move back home and marry her (my Mary put it best, as she often does)
sugar daddy.
A good several dozen years older than herself, the senior Carrisford had practically raised Sara in lieu of her father, his former, now-deceased partner.

It was nasty as all fuck, is what it was. Mary told Sara this straight to her face; Wendy backed her up. The rest of us cringed whenever we were faced with the situation. But Finn . . . Finn had her back the whole time, even though he knew she was making a horrible decision. He didn’t say anything when she basically spat in all our faces that we were nothing to her, and that the Society better keep their distance now that she was going off to be a good little wife and lady.

And now here we are, going to see the May-December romance in full bloom, aren’t we? And I can’t very well object, as 1) I need a place to examine my brother’s wounds, and 2) we need to get home as fast as bloody possible to make sure everyone is okay. I can only hope that Sara won’t slam the door in our faces.

I knock several times before the door finally opens. And just as it does, Finn topples backward, off the steps. I lunge and grab him just in time to see the butler staring down his nose at me.

Right bloody prick.

The door begins to swing shut. I kick out a boot and force it back open.

“Excuse me!” The sod is indignant, like we’re some kind of stray dogs covered in fleas or something. “You can’t just—”

“We need to see your mistress,” I say firmly. “Now.”

He sniffs. “The lady isn’t at home.”

I drag Finn along with me as I step forward. “Then we will wait until she is.”

The butler sputters, and I’m just having no more of his prattle. I whip out my brother’s gun and aim it right at the arsehole. “I can guarantee that if Mrs. Carrisford knew you were keeping us out here like this, she’d break your kneecaps.”

All right. That might be a tad of a stretch. Sara wasn’t exactly the strongest of fighters—she was a quiet little thing, whose shot was better than any kind of punch she could throw. But my threat must be enough, because the butler’s eyes go wide and then narrow before he steps to the side and lets us in. The moment the door shuts behind us, Finn slumps straight to the ground.

Shite!

He’s burning up, his pulse is weak. “Help me take him to the kitchen,” I order the butler, but then I hear my name called.

Upon the stairs, dressed in bubblegum pink like a
frou-frou
doll is none other than my brother’s former partner.

“Victor?” Sara says again, like she can’t believe I’m inside her house, dripping like that wet dog the butler fears I am, all over her shiny, pretty tiled floors. And then, “Is that . . .” Her hand goes over her mouth. “Finn!”

She bolts down the stairs and practically knocks the butler away. “What happened?! What are you two doing here? Is he—” She yanks open his coat before I can and then gasps at the bloom of red that stains half his shirt. “He’s been stabbed! You might have opened with that, Victor!”

So much for saying we all
better stay away or else,
thank goodness.

The butler garbles, “Ma’am, these men—”

But she cuts him off. “Groverley, help us get Mr. Van Brunt to the guest room.”

“Kitchen,” I correct. “I need to examine him.”

She nods grimly. “Listen to Dr. Frankenstein. Let us get our guest to the kitchen immediately.” Raising her voice, she yells, “Mrs. Groverley! We need towels and hot water. A needle and thread!”

“But . . . ma’am!”

Her already high-pitched voice ups a whole octave.
“Now, Groverley!”

Finn moans softly when we pick him up, but he does not open his eyes. Bloody hell. We wind our way through the house, bursting through the kitchen. The cook and the kitchen maid both squeak in surprise, and then blanch when Sara swipes every last bit of food and cutlery straight off the island. Groverley and I slide Finn upon it, and I curse silently that I didn’t have time to bleach the surface. Sara’s got Finn’s shirt spread open, and we both go still when we peer down at his skin.

Mottled purple and red streaks form a hellishly large, vivid starburst around the wound.

“What . . .” She swallows hard. Turns as pale as he is. “What causes something like that?” And then, with fright, “What have you two done?”

I don’t know what to tell her. Or to say. Or, fuck,
do
—because I have no idea. Not one bloody idea. What do I tell her?
Peter bloody Pan did this with a glowing sword?
I get down to business, though. The cut . . . It didn’t hit any major organs. And it’s gone clean through his side, a perfect open hole in his body. Christ. What am I going to do? I’m in Nineteenth-Century England. It’s not like I’ve got a ton of medical options at my fingertips. Or, hell, antibiotics, which he desperately needs. Does Sara even have a thermometer?

My emotions scatter. I realize I’ve missed my latest dose of protocol. And now I’m scared shitless I’m not going to be able to focus enough to save my brother.

As the housekeeper bustles in with strips of cloth and a whole sewing box of needles, I lean down and say my brother’s name. I say it even louder, not caring that I sound like I’m about to start yelling my bloody head off. When he doesn’t answer me, I press my fingers against his throat. His breathing is shallow, his pulse even weaker.

I peel back one of his eyelids, and then, in horror, the other. The cook drops the pan of water she was bringing to us and shrieks.

Finn’s eyes are completely black.

Curious as to who was featured or mentioned within
The Hidden Library?

Here’s a list of some of the people and the books they came from.

Abraham Van Brunt (AKA Brom Bones); Katrina (Van Tassel) Van Brunt

Featured in the short story
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,
found within
The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent.
by Washington Irving

Alice (Reeve) Liddel; the White King; the Mad Hatter; the Caterpillar; the Cheshire-Cat; the Queen of Hearts; various other Wonderlandian animals & peoples

Both from and loosely based upon
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
by Lewis Carroll

Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There
by Lewis Carroll

The Hunting of the Snark
by Lewis Carroll

Anne (Eliot) Wentworth

Persuasion
by Jane Austen

Cat(s)

I Am A Cat
by Natsume Sōseki

Catherine (Morland) Tilney

Northanger Abbey
by Jane Austen

The Earnshaw and Linton Families; Heathcliff; Nellie Dean; Joseph

Wuthering Heights
by
Emily Brontë

Elizabeth (Bennett) Darcy

Pride and Prejudice
by Jane Austen

Emma Knightley

Emma
by Jane Austen

Gwendolyn Peterson (AKA Wendy Darling); Peter Pan

Based loosely upon
Peter and Wendy
by J. M. Barrie

Henry Fleming

Red Badge of Courage
by Stephen Crane

Dr. Heidegger

Featured in the short story
Dr. Heidegger’s Experiment,
found within
Twice Told Tales
by Nathaniel Hawthorne

Mr. Holgrave

House of the Seven Gables
by Nathaniel Hawthorne

Huckleberry Finn; Tom Sawyer; Becky (Thatcher) Sawyer; Judge Thatcher; Jim; The Widow Douglas; various other St. Petersburg residents

Both from and loosely based upon
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
by Mark Twain

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
by Mark Twain

Tom Sawyer Abroad
by Mark Twain

Tom Sawyer, Detective
by Mark Twain

Jack Dawkins (AKA The Artful Dodger)

Oliver Twist
by Charles Dickens

Marianne (Dashwood) Brandon; Elinor (Dashwood) Ferras; Colonel Brandon

Sense and Sensibility
by Jane Austen

Mary Lennox

The Secret Garden
by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Professor Otto Lindenbrock

Journey to the Center of the Earth
by Jules Verne

Sara (Crewe) Carrisford

A Little Princess
by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Sherlock Holmes; Dr. Watson

A Study in Scarlet
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

The Sign of the Four
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

The Hound of the Baskervilles
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

The Valley of Fear
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Sweeney Patrick Todd; Rosemary Nellie Lovett

Based loosely upon
A String of Pearls: A Romance,
most likely written by
James Malcolm Rymer
and
Thomas Peckett Prest

Victor Frankenstein Jr.

Based loosely upon
Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus
by Mary Shelley

Much gratitude is sent out to the following people who helped make this book the best it could be: my editor Kristina Circelli, my publicist KP Simmon, my assistant Tricia Santos, Victoria Alday for designing another gorgeous cover, and my formatter Stacey Blake. Further appreciation is sent to Bridget Donelson and Nicole Friedrich for proofreading.

Jessica Mangicaro, Andrea Johnston, Vilma Gonzalez, and Tricia, I am deeply grateful for all the time, feedback, and love you’ve given these characters and their stories.

To the fab members of my street team, the Lyons Pride, I adore you all and am forever grateful for your support. (in no particular order) Ana, Tricia, Kathryn, Vilma, Megan, Jessica, Amy, Christina Marie, LeAnn, Rebecca, Kiersten, Meredith, Maria, Ivey, Whitney, Daniela, Caitlin, Tracy, Sarah, Enrica, Ethan, Leigha, Nicole, Cynthia, Heather, Cherisse, Autumn, JL, Bridget, Lindy, Gina, Brandi, Jessica, and all the rest . . . you guys rock.

As always, no book of mine can ever be written without the love and support from my family. To my husband and children, all the love and gratitude to you guys for putting up with me sitting in front of the computer for hours upon end. And to my parents, I am eternally grateful for your support. Thanks for installing a deep love of books and reading into me at an early age.

All the thanks to you, too, sweet reader.