Her Dark Curiosity (The Madman’s Daughter #2)(32)
Author: Megan Shepherd

I had to be careful, now. Very careful.

“Edward, please . . .”

His fingers curled into mine nearly hard enough to bruise. When I met his gaze, my breath caught. His pupils were already starting to elongate. In moments the Beast would fully emerge. He leaned close enough that his lips grazed my earlobe. “I won’t let you go.”

Sharkey barked now, twice, very loud.

“I must get home,” I said, trying to keep my shaking voice under control. “If I don’t, the professor will send half the police after me, and they’d soon trace me here. We can’t let them find this place. Find you. I’ll come back tonight, and we’ll be together.”

I forced myself to look him in his animal eyes. I ignored how broad his shoulders were growing, how dark the hair on his arms was becoming. I pulled my lips in a smile that I prayed would convince him. His tight grip eased a small degree, and I cautiously slid from his grasp. I reached for one of my boots, though the moment I picked it up, the knife slid from its holster and clattered to the floor.

Blast. I dove for it, but he was faster.

His hand clamped over my wrist. Sharkey exploded in barks that tore at my ears.

“Let me go!” I lunged for the knife again, but it only seemed to excite his predator instincts more. As he clutched my wrist, I could feel the bones in his hand shifting and popping as the transformation came faster.

A flurry of noise came charging across the room as Sharkey tore at Edward, barking and growling. Edward gave him a single kick that sent him cringing under the bed.

“Don’t you dare hurt him!” I cried, trying to pull him away from the dog. But my hands on his arm had the wrong effect, and he turned to me with a leer.

“Juliet,” he muttered, his eyes dilated and glowing. His voice was still Edward’s, and yet the edges of it were changing. The Beast was coming, fast. “How I missed you.” He leaned in close, his forehead against my temple, breathing in the smell of my hair and skin. His lips grazed my cheek and I shivered, painfully aware of the coldness of his flesh.

“I can’t help it,” he said. “I am what I am. An animal. Can you blame me for that?”

He nuzzled my cheek again, breath cold against my skin, as the last traces of Edward’s voice dissipated. That voice. That humanity. It was unnaturally deep in tone and yet spoken like a man, calculated, polite. The creature before me was larger, taller, stronger—the same body and yet such a different person. I couldn’t control the shivers of fear that ran along my spine, nor the goose bumps on my bare skin.

Before I could think, he was kissing me. It wasn’t Edward’s gentle, slow kisses from last night. Now the animal was coming out and it was passionate—no, famished—and it started to awake something in me, too, a wildness, a recklessness, but I shoved that part of me away as my heart pounded frantically back to life. This is what had fascinated me about him—monster and man sharing the same breath—and now it terrified me.

Well, I could be a monster, too.

I just needed a weapon. The knife . . . it was too far away. My gaze darted around the room for anything within arm’s reach that I could use. A jar of potassium powder sat on the table, and in my desperation I reached for it just as a terrible sound like bones sliding began. A sound I’d heard only once before, when the Beast had let loose its claws.

I didn’t dare look down. I shut my eyes as my hand closed over the potassium. I felt the tips of five sharp claws on my back, gentle at first, soon hard enough to tear my dress’s fabric and cut into my skin. I jerked, and his claws sliced into my shoulder with a sting of pain.

“You can fight it if you like,” he breathed. “It won’t change anything.” His kisses mixed with sharp pain from his claws, and I hurled the jar of potassium to the floor. The shatter of glass surprised him long enough for me to pull away and kick over the basin of water.

The instant the water hit the potassium powder, a chemical reaction began. The mixture hissed and sputtered, starting to gain heat. I braced my hands over my head just as the reaction exploded with a cloud of sparks and smoke.

He let out a furious growl as I pushed away from him. In the smoke it was impossible to see anything as I fumbled on the floor for the knife. I drove it into his side, pushing him back against my worktable.

Glass crashed as the Beast fell on my equipment. The sound of breaking tools mixed with his growls. Coughing, I fumbled along the floor until I found my boots, then called for Sharkey and threw the door open. Sharkey darted out ahead of me, racing down the stairs. I stumbled behind him, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end, certain the Beast was just a breath behind me.

We reached the lodging house’s front door and I shoved it open, breathing in great gulps of cold winter air. And then I was running, Sharkey at my heels. It was all a blur, just flashes mixed with the smell of chemical smoke. The falling snow. A crack of ice. Blazing lanterns and Christmas wreaths. And then suddenly Sharkey wasn’t there anymore, lost in the streets. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t look for him.

I disappeared into the city of smoke and steel, not once looking back.

SEVENTEEN

I MADE IT OVER the garden trellis and back into my room only seconds before the cuckoo clock chimed seven in the morning. A minute later the floorboards overhead squeaked as the professor made his way down the stairs to the dining room on the first floor.

It was all I could do to strip off my bloody clothes, hide them under the bed, change into a fresh chemise, and crawl between the covers. I seemed to have forgotten how to speak, or stand, or do anything but sit amongst the hills of pillows with my knees clutched tightly against my chest.

My mind kept replaying Edward’s transformation into the Beast. The slow elongation of his pupils, the splitting of his knuckles to let his claws emerge. I pulled my collar down and touched the angry red scratches on my shoulder. All those nights together in my workshop, comforted by the presence of someone else who shared my secrets, amid the old wooden walls and the creaking woodstove. I had thought myself happy there.

I’d been a fool, and now I’d even lost Sharkey in the chaos.

A knock came at the door.

“Miss Juliet?” Mary’s voice called through the door. “A letter was just delivered for you in the morning post.”

“Slide it under the door,” I said in a hoarse voice.

There was a crinkle of paper as Mary did so. I waited for her footsteps to recede before pulling on a sweater to hide the cuts on my shoulder, and then I picked up the letter. It was sealed in wax still soft to the touch. I ripped the envelope open and drew out a single piece of paper, with but three words written upon them.