He tucked his head inside his elbow and proceeded forward. It was more terrible than anything he had pictured. Just inside, the scent of burnt flesh and fragrant incense filled his nostrils. Stephen gagged against his leather duster. It was like that rotten-meat smell from the secret labs up in the Tower, only worse. Much worse.
Someone retched behind him, and there was more coughing.
Stephen blinked and looked ahead, keeping his nose firmly pressed into his elbow. Smoke filled the cavernous room and flames still burned around the perimeter. He couldn’t see past the first set of columns toward the middle where the assembly would be.
“I don’t like the look of this,” Dr. Latimer said as he came up beside Stephen, his voice muffled behind the handkerchief he held to his nose, his face pale. “And I recognize that scent. Not the”—he swallowed—“burnt smell, but the other. It’s the mixture of herbs Alexander would burn during his most contemptible experiments.”
There was a gasp behind him. Stephen glanced back. “Miss Fealy, I think you should stay there for now.”
She nodded, holding a lace handkerchief to her face.
Stephen grimaced, his mouth dry. He felt the same way he did that one time he investigated a brutal murder down in Southbrook. That nauseous, chilly feeling.
He forced himself to move forward. Just get it over with, Grey. Best to find out what happened and deal with it.
As the smoke cleared, he could see ahead. A pile of dark lumps lay in a mound below the remains of the glass dome. Rain poured down from the broken glass above.
As he drew closer, the lumps began to take shape, with small spirals of smoke and steam rising from the pile.
They were—he recoiled.
They were bodies.
His hand began to shake and he glanced this way and that. Where was Kat? A wave of dizziness rushed over him. He stopped until the spell passed and his vision cleared. His heart beat with heavy thuds. Did she do this?
There were more bodies scattered on the other side of the circle of pillars, and a couple more on a platform that had been set up. An angled metal table stood on the platform with metal bands where a person’s wrists and ankles could be secured, only the metal bands looked as if they had been melted away.
Stephen glanced at the bodies. They were burned so badly there was no indication as to who was who. Just charred human figures. But he could wager who they were. The World City council.
Dr. Latimer came and stood silently beside him. The rain sizzled as it fell upon the bodies. “I had no idea . . .” He shook his head. “No one deserves this. Not even them.”
Stephen stiffened. He wasn’t so sure about that. These men had poked and prodded Kat like she was something less than human until they finally unleashed the monster inside her. Did they really think they could let loose something so powerful and not be scathed?
He looked up. “Kat?” he said quietly. A fire popped and fizzled nearby. He stepped out into the open and around the bodies. The rain had turned into a gentle drizzle. “Kat?”
Something stirred just off the edge of the platform. Stephen brought his gun up.
“What do you want?” It was Kat’s voice, but in a tone he had never heard before. The figure staggered past the platform into the circle of light shaped by the glass dome above. It was Kat all right, but the wrong Kat. Her long dark hair hung in wild tendrils around her face and past her shoulders. She was dressed in a simple white gown that resembled a pillowcase with holes for the arms and legs. Her skin was pale, like a ghost. “Why are you here?”
“Kat, it’s me, Stephen.”
“I don’t want to be around people right now.”
She started to turn. Stephen holstered his weapon and stepped toward her.
She spun around, a ball of fire forming around her palm. “I said leave me alone!”
“Do you remember me?” Stephen slowly took one step toward her, then another.
Her face crinkled, almost like a lost child’s. Then it morphed back into that hard look. “No. Now leave.”
His heart thundered inside his chest. He had seen what this Kat could do. But he had to get through to her—find the other Kat inside. “I won’t leave you. I promised myself I would never leave you again.”
That same lost look came back, and it broke something inside of him.
“Gently,” Dr. Latimer whispered behind him. “We don’t want to provoke her, not if we hope to help her.”
Stephen nodded slightly, his eyes fixed on Kat. He had broken through to her once before back on the Lancelot when the airship was going down. Maybe he could do it again if there was any part of her old self left.
He continued toward Kat. She lifted her hand, the flames growing around her palm, and snarled at him. “I said leave!”
“No.” Only a few more steps. “Kat, I know you’re in there. You can fight this.”
She growled and extended her hand. “That Kat is dead. I killed her!”
“I don’t believe you.” Stephen reached past her flaming hand and cupped her cheeks with both hands. The fire from her palm singed his elbow, causing his leather duster to smell like burning hair. “Kat, look at me.”
Fierce dark eyes stared back.
Please, God, let her still be in there.
The air began to churn around them and the fire blazed up from her palm. He could feel the heat, like a furnace along his left side.
“Kat,” he whispered.
Her pupils dilated. Her brow furrowed. A spark of recognition flashed across her eyes. “Stephen?”
“Yes.” His body exploded in adrenaline, shoving aside the burning throb of his burnt elbow. “I’m here.”
Her face crinkled. “I—I’m almost gone. I can’t feel anything anymore. My soul—it’s barely alive.” She grabbed his forearms. “You need to do it. You need to shoot me before . . .” Her eyes went wide as she glanced past his face. A look of horror spread across her features. She let go of his arms. “What have I—” She clawed at her cheeks. “God, what have I done?”
She let out a gurgled scream and her eyes rolled up into her head. Her back arched, her head shot up, and her hands fell to her sides.
“Quick!” Dr. Latimer appeared beside Stephen with the device in his hands. “We need to do it now, before she goes back under!”
“Tell me what to do.”
“Place her on the floor.” Dr. Latimer looked back. “Miss Fealy, I will need your assistance.”
Stephen placed his hand on Kat’s back, his other on her midsection, intending to lower her to the ground. Instead, he found her as stiff as a board. Her eyes continued to roll inside their sockets and a trickle of blood appeared below her left nostril.
He switched tactics and scooped her up. Her body would not bend, but at least he could get her to the floor.
“Wait,” Dr. Latimer said. He looked around at the puddles that had formed everywhere under the missing dome, as if seeing them for the first time. “Over there.” He pointed to a dry area along the perimeter.
“What the blazes difference does it make?”
“There is no time to waste, Mr. Grey!”
Exasperated, Stephen did as the man asked and set Kat on the dry floor. A small fire burned nearby, oddly comfortable as it warmed his wet skin.
Miss Fealy appeared at Dr. Latimer’s side, her face and lips pale. “Did Kat do this?”
“Focus, Miss Fealy.” Dr. Latimer removed the cover from the device and placed the cylinder down on the ground beside Kat. “Time enough for that later.”
He turned a knob in the back, and an arc of electricity shot around the cylinder, followed by a hum.
Kat had gone slack the moment she touched the ground. Slowly, she opened her eyes. “Stephen?”
He grabbed her hands, both chilled as ice.
The color drained from her face, leaving behind a cool, blue hue. “Y—you came back for me.”
“Yes.” He rubbed her knuckles, his stomach churning. As he watched, her lips grew pale. “I came b
ack for you. I—Kat, I love you.” He didn’t know where the words came from, only that they were all he could think of as he watched her slip away.
Her face changed. “You love . . . me?” She went rigid.
“Dr. Latimer!”
“I’m going as fast as I can!”
She looked at Stephen, her breathing erratic, sweat beading her colorless face. “I don’t know . . . how much longer . . . I can hold back. There is nothing left inside of me now—except for the monster. It wants out. It wants control!”
Stephen bent over her and looked into her eyes, her frozen hands still inside his. “Focus, Kat. Dr. Latimer is here. We’re going to save you.”
First one tear, then another rolled down her cheeks. “I . . . will try.”
“Just look at me.” She stared back. He had forgotten how beautiful her eyes were. “That’s it. When this is done, we’ll have a whole new life ahead of us.”
“You mean together?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes. “I would like that.” Moments later, her body began to convulse.
Stephen’s heart went into double beat. “Dr. Latimer! She’s regressing! We need to do it now!”
“Make sure you’re not touching her!” Dr. Latimer pulled the strange electric device nearer Kat. “I’ve never done this without opening the chest.”
Stephen stared at him, horrified. “Open? You mean—?”
“I’m going to try and restart her heart without actually touching her physical heart. Miss Fealy, I need you to expose her chest.”
“Doctor?”
“Remove the gown around her chest. I need to use the rods directly on her skin, in the middle of her chest and along her left ribcage. You’ve seen a surgical theater, correct?”
Miss Fealy nodded.
“Same thing. I will be performing something like an operation.”
Miss Fealy looked at Kat and squared her shoulders. She went down on her knees and with the material between her fingers, tore the gown down the middle.
Stephen kept his gaze on Dr. Latimer as the doctor removed two long wires from the cylinder. At the end of each wire was a thin brass rod, like two small batons, which he held gingerly by their small handles. Electricity crackled across the larger cylinder behind them.
“She’s ready, Doctor.” Miss Fealy’s voice was breathless as she pulled back. “I’ve kept her as modest as I can.”
“All right, nobody touch Miss Bloodmayne, or you will be shocked as well. I am going to stop her heart first, then hopefully revive it.”
Miss Fealy’s head shot up. “You’re going to stop her heart?”
“Yes. Then revive it.”
Miss Fealy opened her mouth as if to argue.
“There is no time to debate, Miss Fealy. You must trust me.”
Miss Fealy pressed her lips together in a fine line and nodded.
Dr. Latimer took a deep breath, then pressed the two batons to Kat’s skin. Her whole body jumped into the air, then fell with a thud. Her head sagged to the side and lay still.
Dr. Latimer held the wires and batons back, keeping them well apart. “Miss Fealy, check her pulse.”
The way Miss Fealy looked, Stephen was almost sure she would faint any moment. She placed her fingers along Kat’s neck for a couple seconds. Her head dropped. “There is no pulse.” She sniffed and adjusted the material across Kat’s chest.
“Now, we wait.” Dr. Latimer looked gray but resolute. “If my hypothesis is correct, her condition is a result of being pulled out of our element, our plane of existence, if you will. And given what I know of Dr. Bloodmayne’s experiments, it was caused by death in the first place. So another kind of death should hopefully shift her back.”
“Will it undo the damage that’s been done to her soul?” Stephen asked.
Dr. Latimer sighed. “I don’t know. Souls are God’s province, not mine. If her soul is truly dead, then only God can bring her back to life. My only hope is to reset her physical body back into our world.”
“And what if this doesn’t work?”
“Then I revive her, and I will continue to study her condition with what limited time we have left.” He gave Stephen a frank look. “That is, if I can revive her. I was only in the experimental stage of this process and never used it to stop a heart, only to start a heart.”
Stephen stared down at Kat. Every tick from a clock nearby marked off Kat’s life. His fingers slowly curled up across the floor. The rain had stopped, but the air still held that awful smell of burnt flesh and incense. Bells rang far away. They didn’t have much time before either the firemen or police arrived.
Just when he thought he would go mad with waiting, Dr. Latimer moved. “All right.” He brought the small, slender brass batons out. “Time to revive her. Make sure you’re not touching her.”
Stephen clenched his hands, his knees numb beneath him. God, please let this work. Let Kat be all right. He continued to chant those words as Dr. Latimer placed the batons across Kat’s chest.
Her body bounced, then fell back to the ground. Everyone waited. She did not move.
Stephen dug his fingernails into his palms. Please, God, please!
Dr. Latimer waited, sweat beading along his forehead. “Again.” The cylinder gave off a crackle as the batons touched Kat’s skin. Her body jolted, then flopped to the ground.
There was a pause. Miss Fealy pressed her fingers to Kat’s throat and shook her head.
“Again.”
Stephen stood and walked away. His whole body shook with adrenaline and grief. His gaze fell on the bodies still smoldering in the middle of the vast room. He knew he should feel appalled by the violent death these men had succumbed to, but he was too angry.
Instead, he turned toward one of the pillars and, with a raised fist, hit the marble with all his might. “It’s not fair!” he shouted. He slammed his fist again. “She didn’t deserve this! Out of everyone, Kat was innocent. She shouldn’t have to pay for what her father did to her! They drove her to this! And now . . .”
He sank to the floor, his throat tight. He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard Dr. Latimer say “again.” He had never cried before. Not at his parent’s graves, not at Aunt Milly’s. But this time something broke past the walls he surrounded himself with and a single tear trickled down his cheek.
He looked up at the shattered glass dome. Please, God. Don’t let me live through another death. Please save Kat. You’re the only one who can.
Chapter
37
Unlike her other dreams, where she was struggling, drowning in dark waters, this time she was already at the bottom. Total darkness eclipsed Kat’s vision. She no longer breathed, no longer felt anything. She couldn’t hear or see anything either. Was this death? Was her body finally dead? Or did her body still rampage on without her, and this was where deceased souls like hers went? To a place of nothingness?
But then why could she still think?
She was neither cold nor hot. She was . . . nothing. Nothing but thoughts.
Awake.
She looked up into the nothingness.
Awake, O sleeper.
Awake? Was she only dreaming? She closed her eyes. At least, it felt like she was closing her eyes. Right. Time to wake up. She focused on that thought. Wake up, Kat! You’re only dreaming.
The darkness persisted.
Come on, Kat, you’ve fought this darkness before. You can do it again. Wake up!
Nothing.
Awake, O sleeper. Rise up from the dead.
That voice again. Like a tenor and bass rolling together. And those words. She knew them from somewhere . . .
That slip of paper inside the main medical tent. What did it say? Something about awakening, rising from the dead, and God’s light. But why was she thinking about that now? Or was someone else here with her saying those words? She turned her head to and fro, but only darkness filled her vision.
Awake, O sleeper, rise up from the dead, and I will giv
e you light.
“Who’s there? Who’s speaking to me? How do I wake up? Or am I—am I dead?” There was no echo to her voice, no bouncing of sound. As if she were in a wide-open space here in the darkness.
Your soul is dead. The words were spoken in gentle, somber tones—the voice that commanded her to rise up—not in the harsh cruelty of the monster.
My soul . . . is dead. Kat swallowed. Then it had finally happened. That last episode had been her final one. Everything—hope, will, determination—drained away. No matter how hard she had fought, she had lost in the end. She lifted a hand and wiped her cheek, then looked up into the dark abyss. “Who are you?”
I am the One who can awaken you. I am the One who can give you light.
Light. That one word spurred a deep longing inside her. More than anything she wanted light. Just to see again. Breathe again. Have life again. “I want that light,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be like this anymore.” But wasn’t it too late? Didn’t the voice just say she was dead?
Then I will give it to you. It is time to awaken, child. It is time to rise up from the dead. Your soul was never meant to exist in a place like this.
A place like this? Did the voice mean outside of life, like Dr. Latimer had said? I was never meant to exist here.
In answer, a small pinprick of light appeared above her body.
Here is my light for your darkness.
The light expanded like a ball of white fire until she was bathed in it. There was nothing but bright light all around her. The warmth from the rays filled her being until something shifted inside her. A piercing heat entered her heart, so intense it took her breath away. It felt like all the broken parts inside were welding back together, piece by piece.
The light culminated in a blaze of heat and blinding brightness, forcing her eyes shut.
Thump. Thump.
Her heart beat again.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart throbbed steadily beneath her fingertips. All around her, the light blazed with white intensity. “I’m alive,” she whispered. She sucked in a quiet breath and savored the feel. I’m alive! Every touch, every sensation confirmed she was no longer dead inside. For the first time in a long time, she could feel again. No more numbness, no more darkness.
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