“Are you going to the library again? You’ve been there every night since we arrived!”
Kat slung her book bag over her shoulder. The drawing room was empty save for Marianne, who sat in one of the green floral-patterned high-back chairs, a book in her hands. A small fire crackled in the nearby fireplace and a gas lamp hummed on the wall nearby. The rest of the girls were in their dorms, studying or talking quietly.
So Marianne had noticed? Of course she had noticed. Kat smoothed her skirt. “I’m working on an extra project.”
“For one of the professors?”
“For myself.”
Marianne cocked her head to the side. “A private project? I’m intrigued.”
Kat’s stomach tightened, but she tried to answer lightly. “It’s nothing.”
“So you won’t tell me about it?”
“I want to keep it a secret, for now.”
Marianne shifted in her chair as if to stand. “Maybe I could hel—”
“No!” Kat held up her hand.
Her friend’s pale eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure?”
Kat scrambled mentally for a way out of this conversation. “Yes. You have your own studies. But thank you.”
Marianne eyed her for a moment longer, then settled back again.
Before Marianne could say any more, Kat spun and headed out the door. She would need to rethink her research. If Marianne had noticed her absence every night, others might too. And that would lead to questions.
Kat hurried down the hall to the main door. Outside, night was falling across World City. Far away horns blasted, signaling a shift change at the factories. Across the courtyard stood the Tower. She angled to the left and headed toward the side where the main library was located.
The last of the horns melted away into the night, leaving the courtyard quiet. No one else was about.
She reached the library and opened the door, breathing in the rush of warm air that greeted her face. The library smelled like hundreds of years of knowledge: wood with a hint of vanilla over underlying mustiness.
Tall bookshelves stood in long rows down either side of the narrow hall. Gas lamps were mounted on the wall between the bookshelves and gave the library a homey feel. There was a flutter of paper and the whisper of a pen.
Kat proceeded down the middle of the bookshelves. She passed the main desk where the librarian stood, bent over a large tome. The next aisle over was a table with one of the female students sitting next to a pile of books.
Kat recognized the girl and hurried to pass, but then she looked up at that moment.
“Well, well. Kathryn Bloodmayne.”
Kat slowly turned around. “Nicola.”
Taller than Kat, with thick auburn curls piled around her aristocratic face, Nicola had already proved herself to be one of the smartest students at the academy.
She smirked at Kathryn. “Here to study, I presume. I hear you’re here quite a lot, but then, every little bit helps.”
Kat inwardly rolled her eyes. From day one, for some reason Nicola had decided that Kat would be her rival. At least, that’s how she felt with their every conversation. Maybe it was the fact that Dr. Bloodmayne was her father and Nicola had made it quite clear she would do everything she could to become one of his apprentices. Including putting Kat down at every opportunity.
Kat grabbed the strap of her book bag. “A brilliant deduction. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .” She scurried away before Nicola could send more barbs her direction. She found a table in the back corner of the library and sat down with a long exhale. Yes, she would need to rethink the time she spent researching her condition in the library. Between Marianne’s questions and her run-in with Nicola, it was clear she was drawing attention. Besides, she hadn’t had an episode in a week, not since that first morning.
Maybe it’s working. I can control myself, as long as I stay away from people when possible. It would be a long two years here at the academy, but it was doable. And she would keep searching for any links to her condition, but maybe she could slow down and actually enjoy school and her studies. She didn’t want to fall behind.
Kat reached inside her book bag and pulled out her pen case and her inkwell. Then she pulled out a couple of pieces of paper and placed them down before her. A few notes were scribbled on the top of the first page.
Since she was here, though, she might as well do what she came to do. Tomorrow she would slow down, but she would never give up. If there were any recorded cases of people like her, she would find them. And if she were the only one, she would search out why, and how she came to be this way.
And maybe, just maybe, she would find a cure.
4
“So how did it go the other day at the academy?”
Stephen glanced at his partner as they turned and headed down one of the dark alleys in the Greensborough district. Smoke hung in the air, discharged into the sky by the factories nearby. Even at night, the factories still chugged away, churning out metal parts for the new horseless carriages or textiles for clothing. Tonight the smoke masked the stars overhead and the moon looked hazy in the smog.
Harrison was a couple of inches taller than him, with dark brown hair and a clean-shaven face, unlike the most of the men on the force, including himself. Harrison held his truncheon loosely, his gaze darting along the alley looking for trouble.
Stephen shrugged. He held his own truncheon in his right hand, a recent invention by the Tower. Pale blue light emitted from the intertwined circles that surrounded the smooth baton. Two gears were located near the handle, allowing him to adjust the shock settings. The truncheon would let off a charge on contact, shocking the assailant, assuming one could get close enough to use the weapon. He didn’t put much stock in the light stick, hence the revolver that sat holstered along his left hip. “It was interesting.”
“Explain.”
“We had a group of men not happy about the academy letting in women students.”
Harrison grinned. “I knew there would be a riot. Wish I had been there.”
Stephen shook his head. “Just a small demonstration.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“No. Although there was some excrement thrown and one of the women fell.” His thoughts rushed back to that morning, the moment he had knelt down to help her up. He had seen fire, a couple of flames bursting up from the pavement near her hands. At least, he thought he had, and there had been char. But where in the world would fire have come from? Still, he couldn’t shake it from his mind that he had seen something. Miss Bloodmayne had appeared frazzled, but who wouldn’t be after being hit with something foul and pushed to the ground?
Wait. His brows furrowed. His Aunt Milly worked for the Bloodmaynes. So that was the young woman Aunt Milly used to write to him about during his school days? Funny, she didn’t strike him as the curious little thing Aunt Milly had painted in her letters.
Harrison switched the truncheon to his other hand. They emerged onto the main street and headed west. “Not sure what I think about women learning science. But throwing excrement? That’s not right.”
Stephen scanned the street. A dim light appeared at the end of the next alley. “I agree. Allowing women into the academy was a bold step for the Tower, and you know how people can be with change. Something like that was bound to happen. But that was going too far. No matter the disagreement, men should still act civil.”
Harrison nodded. “True. What do you think of women being admitted to the academy?”
Stephen shrugged. “If they can keep up with the men, why not?” If his younger days on the streets had taught him one thing, it was women were as tough and smart as men. Maybe more so.
“Not everyone thinks that way. What would you think if Vanessa joined the academy?”
An image of his fiancée filled his mind. Beautiful, vivacious Vanessa. No, he
couldn’t picture Vanessa attending the Tower Academy. She was intelligent, but she was also a socialite through and through. And she had no interest in higher learning. But if she had been interested?
“I would let her,” Stephen said a moment later. He would let her do anything she wanted. He couldn’t say no to Vanessa.
Harrison’s eyebrows shot up. “You would?”
They drew near the next alley. Looked like there was a fire somewhere down the narrow street.
“I would. If Vanessa wanted to improve herself through education, then I would let her. Not that I could stop her if she put her mind to it anyway.”
Harrison let out a loud guffaw that echoed between the buildings. “Yes, she is a bit stubborn, isn’t she?”
Stephen frowned. “Yes, she can be.” How did Harrison know that? He barely knew Vanessa.
Harrison pointed down the alley. “Looks like we have some vagabonds loitering down here.”
The three ragged men looked up from their fire as the two officers approached. One was young, almost Stephen’s age. The other two were much older. All three sported unkempt beards, dirt-scuffed faces, and haunted eyes.
“Stephen Grey?” one of the older men croaked.
Stephen furrowed his brows. “Mr. Hensley?”
“Yes, yes!” The older man tried to stand, but his whole body trembled and he fell back to the ground.
Stephen knelt down and grabbed the man’s hand. “What are you doing here? What happened?”
Mr. Hensley coughed, his body shaking from the action. A bit of bloody spittle escaped his lips. “Evicted. All of us.”
“From Pernrith?”
“Yes. Every building along the Meandre in the Pernrith district.”
Stephen sat back, stunned. He hadn’t been back to Pernrith in years, not since his parents had died and his aunt paid for him to attend the police institute. “When did this happen?”
“A couple of months ago, after the textile factory closed and everyone lost their job. Most of the families left, either finding homes in Greensborough, or . . .”
Stephen swallowed. “Or the workhouses.”
Mr. Hensley’s eyes watered and the older man next to him grunted in disapproval.
“Me and Ben here, and Little Moe, have been making our way through World City south to Covenshire. Maybe find a ship to the mainland. But now with this cough and this infernal feve—” He broke into another fit of coughing.
Stephen squeezed his hand. “We need to get you to a doctor.”
Mr. Hensley shook his head and wiped his mouth. “Can’t afford a doc. And between you and me, I’m nearly done for. I keep telling Ben and Little Moe to go one without me, but they’re afraid the reapers will get me.”
“Reapers?”
Suddenly Mr. Hensley’s eyes sharpened. “People are disappearing, Grey. Poor people, sick people. People like me, on the verge of, well, you know. One day they’re there and then the next, gone. No trace.”
Stephen sat back on his heels. “Maybe they ended up in a workhouse or died.”
The young man—Little Moe—growled, but Mr. Hensley waved him off. “No, they’ve been seen being taken by men in black with black hoods. Little Moe watched his sister taken away.”
Little Moe gave Stephen a quick jerk of his head.
Stephen looked up at Harrison, who had been watching the proceedings silently. “Have you heard of these incidents? These reapers?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Police don’t listen. Say we’re drunk or worse.” Mr. Hensley squeaked out another cough.
Stephen made a note to check in at the precinct and see if there were any more stories. “Here.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills. “There’s a doctor in Southbrook. You need to go see him.”
Mr. Hensley pushed back the money. “I couldn’t take your money.”
“You helped me when I was a kid. I’m paying you back now. Take it.” He wished he could take Hensley to the doctor himself, but he still had a couple of hours on patrol.
“You’ve grown into a good man, Stephen. Your parents would be proud.” Mr. Hensley placed the cash inside the front pocket of his dirty overcoat. “We’ll start for Southbrook in the morning.”
Stephen stood up. “Be careful. Other officers might take you to a workhouse.”
Mr. Hensley laughed. “We know. We’ve been careful.”
“I’ll check in at the doctor’s and see how you are sometime tomorrow or next.”
Mr. Hensley smiled and bobbed his head. The other two men watched stoically.
Stephen and Harrison started back down the alley.
“You know that’s what we should be doing now,” Harrison said.
“What? Taking them to the workhouses?” Stephen’s nostrils flared. “I wouldn’t take a sick dog to the workhouses. Better a chance at life on the streets than certain death in one of those places.”
“Still, if the captain found out you let vagabonds wander the streets . . .”
“Then I’ll have a talk with Captain Algar. Hensley needs medical attention. And they’re leaving World City. What harm is there in letting them go?”
Harrison snorted. “You’re usually a stickler for the rules, Grey.”
Stephen shrugged. “Yes, I am. But in this case, I think mercy is a better option.”
5
Their patrol ended when the first rays of morning pierced through the foggy streets of World City. Stephen rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. His eyes felt like each lid was holding up a ten-pound lead.
Harrison yawned beside him. “I’m going to head to my flat and sleep the whole day.”
“Don’t forget you need to get me the new schedule to turn in to the captain.”
Harrison nodded. “I won’t forget. I’ll have it to you tomorrow.”
Stephen held up a finger. “Early morning.”
“I know, I know. Later, Grey.”
“Later, Harrison.”
Stephen watched Harrison walk down the street and turn. Seconds later, a phaeton came flying down the street and passed him, purring like one of those big cats from the mainland, with puffs of steam emitting from the engine. It disappeared around the same corner.
What he wouldn’t give to have one of those. Or even a bicycle. Instead, his paychecks were going toward a bigger flat for Vanessa and himself after the wedding. It was a good thing Vanessa’s family was paying for the wedding, or else she would be having a much smaller ceremony than she desired.
Stephen put his hands in his pockets and started for the precinct on foot. He wanted to check on those reapers Mr. Hensley had talked about before heading toward his own flat.
“Check out today’s Herald!” a newsie yelled on the street corner. The young man held up a newspaper. “Reapers strike again! More people gone missing and the city council is doing nothing about it!” A case of papers sat beside his feet.
Stephen walked over.
The newsie looked up. “Paper, mister?”
“Yes, thank you.” He handed the newsie a coin and took the paper. Sure enough, on the front page in large bold letters was the word reapers. He opened the paper and scanned the article. Unlike some of the smaller newspapers, the Herald prided itself in its reliability, which meant that there had to be some truth to these rumors about reapers. He read further and came across the paragraph about the city council. He snorted. Someone was in hot water over at the Capitol building.
Stephen folded the paper and placed it under his arm. A couple of minutes later he stepped into the large two-story police station at the end of the street. A few other officers were coming off the night shift while more were heading out for the day. Across the room, a bounty hunter with a waxed blond mustache and twin pistols on his hips stood with the morning desk clerk, no doubt collecting the boun
ty on some hapless criminal. The absence of said criminal seemed to indicate he’d been captured dead rather than alive.
“Mornin’ Grey,” Patrick called out as he headed for the doors.
“Good morning, Patrick.”
“Any plans today? A bunch of us are heading to the Boar’s Head tonight for drinks. Want to join?”
“I can’t. I’m surprising Vanessa and taking her to the new restaurant up in Parkway.”
Patrick whistled. “High class.”
Stephen pulled on the collar of his shirt. It was a bit expensive, but it was where she wanted to go. He hadn’t seen her in over a week with the double shifts he had been pulling. It was worth it.
“Well, have fun. The wedding is what, a couple of weeks away?”
Stephen nodded.
“Getting nervous?”
He paused. “No, not really. I’m ready to settle down.” More than ready. He and Vanessa would marry in two weeks, he would become superintendent of the lower district next spring, and maybe they would start a family in a year. He wanted to give his children what he had missed out on after his own parents passed away.
Patrick laughed. “Better you than me. Later, Grey.”
Stephen entered the lobby and headed for the offices to the right. He found Captain Algar just sitting down with a stack of reports inside his office. At his knock, the older man looked up and blinked. His eyes were a watery gray and his peppered mustache quivered above his lip. “Inspector Grey. What can I do for you?”
Stephen placed the newspaper down in front of the captain. “I wanted to ask about these reapers.”
The captain glanced at the paper, then back at Stephen. “You know you can’t believe everything you read.”
“True, but we also know the Herald will only print a story if there are at least two sources. And I met a couple of men on my shift last night who also spoke of these reapers. Something’s going on, Captain, and people are scared.”
Captain Algar brushed the newspaper to the side. “Stories, Inspector. Just stories.”
“Sir, I met someone who has seen them: men dressed in black, with black hoods. They said the reapers are preying on the very sick.”
Tainted (The Soul Chronicles Book 1) Page 3
