But what about the monster?
Her eyes widened. While holding her breath, she sank deep inside herself and searched for that dark presence. Nothing. She no longer sensed the other Kat or the taint that had hung like a shroud across her soul. The monster no longer waited inside her. It was gone, as if it had been burned up within the blazing light.
She looked up, then shied away from the intense glow. Was this real? Or was this place like the dark whirlpool from her dreams, just some vision inside her mind?
No. She breathed in deeply, relishing in the feel of her heartbeat. It was real, as real as the connection she had felt with matter. She couldn’t see it, only feel it.
Awake, O sleeper, rise up from the dead, and God will give you light.
Those words again from that scrap of paper. That voice from moments ago spoke those same words.
Her heart gave a warble inside her and she clutched her hand to her chest. If that was what had just happened to her, if those words were really true, then . . .
She swallowed hard. This light around her, and the life now beating inside her, it had come from him.
From God.
She dared not look up again, but kept her hand where it was, next to her heart. Fear and awe waged war inside her. He had heard her. Her entire being tingled. He had heard her. Her cries for help had not been in vain. “Thank You,” she whispered, her throat choked up. At the last moment, when she had lost everything, He had come for her.
The light began to pull away, but instead of leaving her in darkness, it drew her with it. She felt like she was drifting back toward reality, as if she were waking from a long, restful slumber. Only this time she was waking up a new woman.
Chapter
38
“Again—wait.”
The pure light morphed into a stormy gray. Kat groaned. She could feel her heart all right. It felt like it had been kicked by a horse and trampled on.
“She’s awake!” Something heavy and coarse settled over the top half of her body, shielding her bare skin from the cold air.
She blinked and groaned again, placing a hand over her aching chest. The area around her was dark except for the pale light to her left streaming down from a hole in the ceiling.
Two people knelt beside her. She blinked. “Dr. Latimer?”
He nodded, his eyes bright. “Yes. How do you feel?”
She winced and closed her eyes. Tears welled up behind her eyelids. How could she summon up everything she felt at the moment? Tired, weak, yet strong and brimming with life.
“Kat?”
Her eyes shot open and she glanced to her right. A young woman with carrot-colored hair and a stained white lab coat knelt beside her. Her mouth opened and closed. “Marianne?” She brushed her forehead. “Perhaps I’m still dreaming.”
“No.” Marianne gave out a gurgled laugh. “It’s me.”
“But how . . . ?”
“It’s a long story. I came with Dr. Latimer and Mr. Grey. We came to rescue you.”
“Rescue me?”
“Let me help you put that coat on. You’ll catch a chill in just that gown.”
Dr. Latimer looked away as Marianne helped her sit up and pull the coat over her torn gown. Kat barely noticed. Like one of those new slide projectors, the last few days flashed across her mind, whipping through her memories at a frenzy pace of color and sound. Strapped to a metal table inside her father’s private laboratories, presented before the World City Council, then . . .
The monster.
Kat straightened up and looked around her. “What happened?” Bit by bit, her eyes adjusted to the gloominess of the room. The air was filled with the acrid scent of smoke and burnt flesh. In the darkest corners, embers glowed with a deep red light. And in the middle, where pale light streamed down from the broken glass ceiling . . .
A sudden coldness hit her, chilling her from the inside out and washing away the euphoria from moments ago. As her gaze passed over each smoldering body, each charred figure, the chill inside her intensified. She had finally done it. The monster inside of her had unleashed its full power.
She hunched over as dizziness swept through her body, causing her stomach to revolt. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. But I—I couldn’t control it.” She pressed a cold hand to her face. “What have I done?” Oh, God, what have I done? You healed me, but this . . .
A figure knelt before her and lifted her chin with two fingers. A face she had come to love looked back. “Stephen,” she whispered.
“Kat.”
They stared at each other, the gentle sound of pattering rain nearby. Then Kat scrambled onto her knees, grabbed the front of his duster, and pressed her face into his shirt. Elation and grief mingled inside of her. She was finally free of the monster, but the cost had been great.
“I’m cured,” she said with a sob. “He cured me.”
Stephen rubbed her back. “I know. I watched Dr. Latim—”
“No. God did. He heard me, and He healed my soul. There’s no more monster inside me. But . . .”
She lifted her face and looked to her left at the wreckage the monster had wrought. “I never wanted to harm anyone. Never! I wanted to help people. And Father . . .” She glanced toward the platform, her throat tight, her stomach quivering. “He hurt me exceedingly. And yet I still desired . . .” Her voice faltered and a sob clutched her throat. “I just wanted to be his daughter. And that will never happen now.”
Kat pressed her face into Stephen’s shoulder and cried. She cried for the little girl who would never be loved by her father. She cried for the tortured woman who had lashed out. And she cried for the living soul inside her, a soul reborn of tragedy, but a new creation nevertheless.
There was a crashing sound behind her and shouts and gasps. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dr. Latimer stand and walk away. Marianne followed shortly afterward. Voices rose and fell with questions. She heard Dr. Latimer say something about an accident during the exhibition and that there was only one survivor.
Kat sat there with Stephen, her head pressed to his chest. She had stopped crying and now only listened.
“Stephen!” a man said above her. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“Patrick!” Stephen’s voice rumbled through his chest. “I’m so glad to see you. Are you the officer in charge here?”
“I am. Blazes, Stephen, what happened here? This place looks like a war zone. And the city council . . .”
Stephen sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“So you know what happened?”
“I do.”
“And the woman, is she the survivor?”
Kat never looked up.
“Yes.”
“Well, you know the procedure, Stephen. We’ll have to take both of you in for questioning, along with the other man and woman here.”
“Very well, but I will accompany her during her questioning,” Stephen said. “This woman is my client.”
“Why am I not surprised? You always did find a way to be in the middle of things.” Patrick sighed. “What a mess.”
Kat tugged the coat that covered her closer and shivered.
Stephen pulled back and rose. “Let’s get you to a warmer place.”
Kat nodded, her senses dull from all the stimulation earlier. Stephen helped her to her feet. She kept the coat tightly wrapped around her frame, her bare feet chilled against the marble floor.
“Stephen, I need her brought to the precinct for questioning. This cannot wait. You understand.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll send a couple officers with you,” Patrick said. “As for the other lady and the doctor, I will send them shortly.” He turned and started giving orders to the other police officers.
Stephen led Kat past the throng of policemen, many of whom acknowledged Stephen, past the firemen working on the few blazes, and past a reporter from the Herald. Outside, he hailed a cab and helped her inside.
Kat sank into the leather seat
and propped her back against the corner. Part of her wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. Another part of her wanted to hide from all the people gathering outside the cab window.
How could she move past what she had done? And what would happen to her now? She had single-handedly murdered the entire city council.
It wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t control it.
But how could she prove it? Then again, who would even believe she had done it in the first place?
“I can tell what you’re thinking. Your eyebrows are creased and your eyes are unfocused.”
Kat glanced at Stephen.
“You’re thinking about what happens next, aren’t you?”
Did Stephen really know her that well? “Yes.” Her gut clenched at all the possibilities. Would she be convicted of murder? Sentenced to prison? Or worse?
“One step at a time, Kat. One step at a time. As Dr. Latimer told the officer, it was an accident. And it was,” he said, pressing a finger to her lips when she opened them to protest. “Right now, let us be thankful that you are alive and healed.”
Kat paused. Stephen was right. All the tension left her body and her shoulders dropped. The taint across her soul was gone. She was a new woman. No matter what happened, inside she was free.
Nothing could touch that.
“And I’ll be with you through the whole process.”
His words struck a chord deep inside her being. Kat sucked in her lips. She wasn’t going to cry. Instead, she looked out the window and felt him give her hand a tight squeeze.
Whatever happened next, she would not be facing it alone.
Chapter
39
World City Council and Dr. Bloodmayne Dead
after Explosion During a Private Tower Exhibition.
One Survivor, a Woman.
Corruption Discovered Among City Council and Highest Authorities of World City. Investigation Ensues.
Bounty Hunter Stephen Grey Cracks Old “
Reapers” Case. World City Streets Safe Again.
Dr. Joshua Latimer Named New Head Scientist
at the Tower.
After Three Deadly Years, War with Austrium
Officially Over as Peace Talks Conclude.
Kat fingered each article trimmed from past editions of the Herald, then placed them in a small pile on the desk. Whenever the guilt of her past became too much, she would pull out the clippings from the last year and reread them. They were reminders that life moved on, and that she was no longer the woman with the monster inside. But that didn’t mean she didn’t mourn all that had happened. The scars of that year, and the years previous, would be forever etched on her heart.
Next to the clippings was a leather-bound journal. Shortly after the tragedy at the Capitol building, Stephen bought her the journal and encouraged her to write. At first, the words came slowly. Writing about her experiences and thoughts were almost like reopening wounds best left untouched. But as the weeks went by, the words started gushing. As her story spread across the pages, she realized something—she had never been alone. Ms. Stuart had been there for her during her childhood, then Stephen after Ms. Stuart’s death, even when he turned her in to the Tower. And others like Dr. Latimer and Marianne.
And God, though she hadn’t realized it until the end.
Kat brushed her fingers across the journal. A piece of paper poked out along the top. The official verdict of her case. After multiple hearings, the event at the Capitol building had been deemed a tragic accident and the case closed. Soon afterward, the Herald covered all that came to light—her father’s dark work, the City Council’s approval of his corrupt methods, the truth behind the war, the greed of the elite of World City, and the death of countless poor at the hands of the Tower.
As for her, life went on after that. It was as if she had been reborn that day and given a new chance at life.
Kat gathered the clippings and tucked them inside the journal, then placed the journal next to the Grey family Bible. The clock in the hall chimed three o’clock. She stood, then paused, her hand on the edge of the desk. A photo stood inches from her fingertips. A smile crossed her lips. In the photograph, she stood behind Stephen, dressed in her mother’s wedding gown, her hand resting on his shoulder. Their expressions were somber, but their wedding day had been anything but. Captain Grim and his crew had made sure of that.
Cricket let out a mechanical chirp and bobbed its head, its emerald eyes twinkling from behind gilded bars. Above the cage hung a painting of Helen Bloodmayne, one of the few portraits Kat had brought with her when she moved from the Bloodmayne mansion.
“I know, I know,” Kat said to the automaton bird. “I don’t want to be late.”
It chirped again as if in agreement.
Her smile widened and the last of her morose spirit slipped away. Stephen was coming home today, and she did not want to be late in greeting him.
She grabbed her wrap and left their flat. Flowers poked through the cracks along the streets as spring made its way across World City. Airships glided through the bright blue sky and far off in the distance a train blew its whistle.
Twenty minutes later Kat reached the sky tower just as the Lancelot started docking along the walkway high above. The cylindrical structure swayed and creaked under the rush of wind brought down by the airship’s propellers.
She kept a hand on the railing and made her way up the narrow stairway inside. With each step, her heart beat faster. Stephen had been gone for two weeks, but the time had felt so much longer.
At the top, she stepped out onto the dock. A wind cooled her heated face and blew back the few hairs that had escaped her chignon. She held onto her wrap, now whipping around her body, with one firm hand.
The airship dipped as the docking balloon expanded, exchanging places with the slowing propellers. Moments later, the ship rose again and leveled itself with the platform. Sailors scurried across the deck, securing the Lancelot to the sky tower and adjusting the gigantic balloon above the ship.
Stephen approached the railing and placed a hand on the wooden frame. His hair and duster settled as the last gusts of wind died with the rotors. His mustache was neatly trimmed, and he still had that patch of hair beneath his lower lip. His eyes came to rest on her, and a broad smile spread across his face.
At his look, a burst of sunshine erupted inside of her. She twisted the wrap between her fingers as a fluttering feeling filled her chest. She would never tire of seeing Stephen’s smile after each mission.
The moment the plank bridged the gap between the ship and the walkway, Stephen jumped over the railing without waiting for the crew to unlock the opening and dashed across the board.
Kat’s heart stopped as he ran across the plank, stories above the city. “Stephen! What are you—?”
Stephen grabbed her by her waist and swung her around. The city flew beneath her feet. Then he pulled her in close, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her hair. “I missed you, Kat.”
Kat closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. “I missed you, too.”
A moment later, his lips were on hers. He pulled her hair loose from the chignon and let the wind take hold of the strands. Her wrap flew from her shoulders. She held onto the front of his duster and kissed him back, ignoring the shouts and cheers from the airship nearby.
A year ago she had been on the run, searching for a cure for the taint she carried inside her. Then she had been healed, awakened to something new.
To life and to love.
About the Author
Morgan L. Busse is a writer by day and a mother by night. She is the author of the Follower of the Word series and the award-winning steampunk series, The Soul Chronicles. Her debut novel, Daughter of Light, was a Christy and Carol Award finalist. During her spare time she enjoys playing games, taking long walks, and dreaming about her next novel.
Find out more about Morgan and sign up for her newsletter at:
www.morganlbusse.com.
Facebook: facebook.com/MorganLBusseAuthor
Twitter: twitter.com/MorganLBusse
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