Her Dark Curiosity (The Madman’s Daughter #2)(59)
Author: Megan Shepherd

Where was Montgomery?

His eyes glowed yellow. Edward’s face, Edward’s body, though it no longer belonged to him.

“Let me go!” I cried, but he dragged me to the center of the flowers with superhuman strength.

“You think we’re not the same?” he said. “You think we don’t belong together? I could have caught you a thousand times. I could have killed you, tasted your blood—and how badly I wanted to. I’m done being patient with you. I’ll have you, or no one will.” He dug a knee against my thigh, and I cried out with pain. “Doesn’t a monster deserve a chance at redemption?” he continued. “Doesn’t a monster deserve a mate? You were so quick to help Edward, but what about me?”

I flexed my fingers behind my back, which were even now starting to pop and shift, triggered by his own transformation. “You’re the monster, not Edward!”

“But you’re a little monster too, aren’t you?” His breath came hot on my face as he leaned closer to whisper. “If I’m to be punished, love, so should you.”

“You’re insane,” I hissed. He’d crossed into madness, into savagery. My only chance was the knife, but where was it? With my head pressed into the dirt all I could see were the flowers, with their cloying aroma, their soft petals grating against my skin.

He ripped my dress along the shoulder seam, pulling it down over my arm. I could feel the bones in his hands shifting to make room for the claws that lay buried in his flesh, as my own body responded with its familiar symptoms and aches. It was his lips that found my skin first, kissing my neck, running his teeth over my shoulder as though he wanted to take a bite out of me. I tried to twist away but he growled and pinned me harder.

“You taste so sweet,” he whispered in my ear, “all the sweeter when you struggle.”

He kissed me hard while one hand found the hem of my dress, drawing it up over my thigh. His fingers grazed the soft skin by my knee, which popped in the socket.

A sound like metal against metal came, and I realized his claws were emerging.

Sweat rolled off his forehead and onto mine. “One last chance, love. Say the word and I shall bring Hastings to you, and we can end him together, the pair of us as we are meant to be.”

For a second an image flashed in my head of Hastings’s dead body, blood trickling from a slit in his throat, and I was glad of it. Hungry for it. He’d caused me such misery, and what of the other girls he’d abused? Because I knew there must be others.

I was tempted, but I wasn’t a fool. My hand closed over a rock, my sweating fingers slick on its surface, as I gritted my teeth. Only one chance. Aim for the temple, aim to disorient.

I squeezed the rock as the Beast ran his claw down my cheek, drawing a line of blood, stinging me with pain.

“Well, love?”

Wind pushed against the windows, making the entire structure sway and creak. The Beast glanced up, which gave me just enough time to slam the rock into his temple, knocking him off of me as his blood spilled on my dress.

At the same time, the world shattered in an explosion of glass.

THIRTY-ONE

I SCREAMED AND COVERED my head with my arms. Showers of glass rained to the bed of flowers, clinking in the brook like terrifying music, just as a burst of steam formed a thick cloud around us.

Beside me, the Beast groaned and clutched his head. I glanced over just long enough to see the claws were gone; he was shrinking in size slowly, shifting back into human form.

An icy gust of wind ruffled my dress. I managed to sit, shaking, as frigid winter air poured in through a shattered glass panel next to the grotto. A man crouched in the middle of the glass, half hidden in fog, white shirt latticed with cuts on his arms and shoulders that already seeped blood.

“Montgomery!” I choked, crawling toward him over broken glass, heedless of the sharp pain in my palms and knees. He’d thrown himself through the glass.

“Juliet,” he breathed, straining with the weight of his wounds. One hand held a pistol and the other a hunting knife, but he threw his bloody arms around me. “We were held up. A fire on Eastwick and all the roads shut down, blocked by police. We couldn’t get the carriage through so I came on foot as fast as I could. I feared I’d be too late.”

“My God, you’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No—I dazed him, at least for now.” I pulled away, gasping at the sight of blood dripping down the crown of his head, glass still tangled in his hair. “We’ve got to get you to a doctor.”

Montgomery shook his head. “Not before we finish with Edward.”

“There are chains attached to that palm tree. He can’t break through them, but he can dislocate his joints and free himself, so we’ll have to take care.”

I tripped on my torn skirt as we hurried with the chains. The Beast was fading back into what was left of Edward, though he moaned in pain.

“Let me handle him,” Montgomery said. “Run outside and fetch Balthazar. By now he’ll have found his way to the gate with the carriage. I can’t carry the Beast by myself.”

I started to turn toward the broken glass panel, but paused. A cold blast of air pushed through my thin dress.

“Juliet, what are you waiting for? We must hurry.”

I had once sworn that Edward Prince would not have another chance to kill anyone else I loved. I’d been so drunk on anger, right after the professor’s death.

And yet.

I couldn’t shake the Beast’s words. That one was not me, love. He was the type to revel in lies, and yet there’d been no mirth on his face when he’d denied killing the professor.

It was madness, surely—but I actually almost believed him.

“You’ll kill him once I go,” I whispered.

Montgomery raised an eyebrow. When he didn’t deny it, I grabbed a handful of his torn shirt. “Promise me you won’t,” I said.

“He was about to kill you. This is what we agreed to.”

“Maybe he deserves to die, maybe he doesn’t. Edward knew this was a trap but came anyway to turn himself in. He assumed his darker half had killed the professor, but the Beast swore he didn’t do it. I know it’s probably a lie, but I don’t want it to end like this. I want to take him back to the professor’s house and decide his fate there.” At Montgomery’s silence, I shook him again. “Promise me!”

“All right!” Montgomery dragged me toward the broken panel, one hand on his pistol. “You have my word.” His eyes were angry, but they were honest.