“I’ll stay here with Kat.”
Robert paused, then nodded. “You know we can’t bring a doctor on board at the moment, but I would be happy to let my cook take a look at her. He knows more than just cooking.”
Stephen shrugged, but he doubted the cook would know what to do with Kat. No, the only one who could possibly help her was that doctor she had been looking for. At least that’s what Kat believed. He was their only hope.
Well, maybe not their only hope. There was always God.
Stephen pressed his fingers into his temple. Would God actually help them? A heathen woman scientist and a broken man who had walked away a long time ago?
Possibly. At least that was the God his aunt—and his parents—had believed in.
Robert stood. “Feel free to join me later. I’ll be at the wheel tonight. We can talk then.”
Stephen nodded. There were no words left inside him.
The door shut softly behind him. Stephen stared down at Kat. Slowly, quietly, he pulled her hand out from beneath the duster. Her fingers were frigid. If it wasn’t for the hint of breath that blew across her lips, he would have thought she was dead.
He swallowed and wrapped her fingers inside both of his hands. Would she ever wake from this? He leaned toward her until he was only inches from her face. “Kat, I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. You should have told me about—” He shook his head. They were just excuses. If he had really taken a good, hard look at Kat, he would have known that she could never have done those awful things, at least not under her own volition.
And now she was in some kind of coma and might never wake u—
Her eyes shifted beneath their lids.
Stephen sat back, her hand still wrapped between his own. “Kat?”
She stirred again. A moment later, she opened her eyes. She blinked a couple of times. Her pupils were dilated, causing her eyes to look even larger than usual.
She shifted and focused on him. Her brow furrowed. “Stephen?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him as if she could see inside his soul. Then she visibly swallowed and stared up at the ceiling.
The look on her face at that moment—his heart twisted violently inside his chest—like a puppy that had been kicked over and over again.
His lip trembled and he slowly dropped her hand. She didn’t seem to notice. It would have been easier if she had been angry with him and yelled. Or cried. He could have handled her tears. But this?
She closed her eyes and turned her face away from his. Moments later, her breathing evened out.
Stephen sat back and held his face. He shut his eyes, and a small moan escaped his lips.
“Oh God, what have I done?”
35
Dr. Bloodmayne stared down at the empty metal table where his daughter had lain. Drops of blood clung to the metal rods that lay across the top, and the thin rubber tubes he had attached to Kat were now on the floor, barely visible in the dim green light.
The cylinder nearby crackled as an arc of electricity bounced around the metal, then it settled back into a steady hum.
He ignored the device and picked up one of the rods. Kat couldn’t have escaped on her own. He had made sure she had enough chloroform to keep her unconscious without killing her. And even if she had somehow woken up, she certainly did not have the strength to tie up Dr. Emerson and kick him hard enough to leave him out cold. No, someone came here for her, and he would find out who.
The body near the door began to move. Dr. Bloodmayne turned and bypassed the rest of the metal tables. He would send in his apprentice, Miss Nicola, to clean up the lab. She had already proven herself to have the cold logic and discretion needed to work here in his private laboratories.
Dr. Emerson twisted and turned on the floor until he righted himself against the wall. He was still bound inside his lab coat, and the thin cloth wrapped around his head muffled his words. There was a trickle of dried blood just below his nose, which appeared to be broken.
Dr. Bloodmayne bent down and removed the cloth from Dr. Emerson’s mouth.
“Dr. Bloodmayne!” Dr. Emerson panted and straightened himself. “Thank you. I could hardly breathe!”
Dr. Bloodmayne stared coldly down at his assistant. “What happened here? I thought I told you no one was allowed in here.”
“The man took me by surprise! I was leaving the lab when he came up behind me and choked me. I woke up and found myself tied up. He walked out with the specimen—”
Dr. Bloodmayne’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
A drop of sweat trickled down the side of Dr. Emerson’s face. “I, uh, don’t know. He was dressed in a dark leather duster and hat. He didn’t look like a gentleman; more like a scoundrel from Southbrook. I’m not sure how he got past security.”
Dr. Bloodmayne pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. It was clear Dr. Emerson knew nothing. He straightened up and headed for the door.
“Wait!” Dr. Emerson yelled behind him. “Dr. Bloodmayne! Aren’t you going to untie me?”
Dr. Bloodmayne ignored him. He had no time to help incompetent subordinates. Let Dr. Emerson find his own way out of his predicament.
“Dr. Bloodmayne.” A voice rasped behind him.
Dr. Bloodmayne looked back. Blaylock Sterling stood in the hallway, blood seeping from a new wound in his shoulder, a scowl across the left side of his face. The rest of his face drooped and his facial skin appeared even more red than usual. The healing serum had done wonders for the young man in a short amount of time, but it would never fully heal him. He would forever be an aberration to society.
“Did you find her?”
“She escaped. But I saw the name of the airship she left on. The Lancelot.”
“Very good, Mr. Sterling. Head up to the laboratory and have someone check on that wound.”
Blaylock nodded and turned around.
It wasn’t much, but it meant that not all was lost. He would send the bounty hunters after the airship. His boots clapped across the steps as he headed down, the sound echoing through the stairway.
Still, he would rather have Kathryn here now. He should have stayed with her until his experiment had been completed instead of leaving her with Dr. Emerson. The incompetent buffoon!
He clenched his hand and let his breath out through his nose. So close. So close to discovering the mystery and power of matter. If only he had been able to witness it with his own eyes instead of hearing accounts of Kat’s power from others. To think, his daughter could lift things with her mind, set fires, and who knows what else. Who wouldn’t want that kind of power?
He breathed faster. He had almost held that power in his hands, controlled it—
What would Helen think of all of this?
Dr. Bloodmayne stopped on the second floor and leaned against the wall. “Helen,” he murmured. Beautiful, loving Helen. He had married above his station when he married her. And Kat was so much like her mother: that same dark hair and chocolate eyes. That same small nose, that same stubbornness.
He straightened and headed down the last staircase. It didn’t matter. Helen took his heart when she died on the birthing table. That thing that beat now inside his chest was only an organic instrument that kept life flowing through his body. Kat might look like her mother, but she could never replace Helen.
However, Kat could make up for killing her mother by giving him the keys he so desired. The keys to the unseen power that moved and flowed around them. With those keys, he might even be able to bring the dead back to life.
Maybe.
Awakened
The Soul Chronicles:
Book Two
Coming Spring 2017
About the Author
Morgan L. Busse is the wife of a pastor, mother of four children, and the author of the Follower of t
he Word series.
From the moment she first read The Hobbit, she fell in love with the fantasy genre. Both J.R.R. Tolkien and Terry Brooks are the inspirations behind her writing. Her debut novel Daughter of Light was both a Christy Award and a Carol Award finalist.
Morgan lives on the west coast with her family.
Website: www.MorganlBusse.com
Awakened
The Soul Chronicles:
Book Two
Coming Spring 2017
About the Author
Morgan L. Busse is the wife of a pastor, mother of four children, and the author of the Follower of the Word series.
From the moment she first read The Hobbit, she fell in love with the fantasy genre. Both J.R.R. Tolkien and Terry Brooks are the inspirations behind her writing. Her debut novel Daughter of Light was both a Christy Award and a Carol Award finalist.
Morgan lives on the west coast with her family.
Website: www.MorganlBusse.com
Tainted (The Soul Chronicles Book 1) Page 24
