“About that…” I said. “Captain Goode just took my power away.”
Thunder rumbled as she stared at me. “Very well. I’ll wait with you.”
I felt relief fill me, knowing she wouldn’t be leaving us here. Soon enough, a hansom pulled over to pick us up. Miss Rao and Miss Chen stayed in the shadows, hiding their injuries, while I gave the driver our address. The three of us squeezed into the cramped space and the carriage rattled forward. Fog filled the streets behind us to cover our escape.
“How did you get injured?” I asked.
“Which time?” she asked back.
“I … all of them?”
She pointed to a patch on her leg. “A man shot at me when I was destroying ships coming from the East.” She pointed to some of the bruises and cuts peppering her skin. “These are from the guards at the India office.” She pointed to her black eye. “Colonial office.” She held up her arm in the sling. “Your Society sent children to catch me and one caught my arm.”
I gaped at her, recalling Oliver’s story from before the Belgrave Ball. When he and his friends had been sent after her. “You’ve had a … you did all of that … with a broken arm?”
“My other arm was well enough,” she said, nodding to the one in my grasp.
“You were the one who killed Lord Bell at the Colonial office?” Miss Chen asked.
“I did,” Miss Rao said.
“And tonight was…?”
“The India Secretary,” Miss Rao said.
I felt my stomach twist. “I thought you didn’t kill people.”
“Your Society changed my mind.”
“But … that … isn’t going to get Britain out of India,” I said, reluctant to anger the most terrifying person I knew.
“What is it you were trying to do?” she asked.
“That’s … different,” I said. “Captain Goode killed my family and friends and a hundred others. And there’s going to be more.”
“You are right. That is different,” Miss Rao said, thunder rumbling as she looked out the window. “Far more people are dying in my country. Your reasoning is nothing in comparison.”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not what—I just mean, if you kill the Secretary, they will find someone to replace him.”
“Then I will kill him, too.”
“And when does it end?”
“When everyone in this country is too scared to hold that position,” Miss Rao said simply.
The carriage creaked to a stop down the street from our lodgings. We climbed out, and Miss Chen gave me the money to pay the driver. As I helped her up the stairs and searched for my key, I felt a lump in my throat, wondering how I was going to explain this to everyone. At least I had a couple of hours until they woke up. To them, it’d almost be like I never even le—
The door opened.
Catherine, Rose, and Mr. Kent were at the entrance, red-eyed and not at all happy to see me.
Chapter Thirteen
“OW. OW. OW.”
Rose’s needle was apparently dipped in some kind of terrible fire-liquid. Every stitch stung, the pain clear and bright without any numbness or excitement from the fight left to stave it off.
“And this is what happens when you act recklessly,” Catherine continued. She was pacing Rose’s and my bedroom, what little length there was, her hair unbound and riotous, her tone as sharp as a schoolmarm’s, even as she endeavored not to wake the rest of the house.
“Look at poor Miss Chen. Now she will have to wait for that leg to heal until your powers come back in three days’ time. It will be extremely painful! Wounds like that could fester and—”
“Please discuss the pain and festering in another room,” Miss Chen groaned from her place on Rose’s bed. She and Miss Rao had already been administered to, as I was deemed both the least injured and the least deserving of nursing.
I closed my eyes, trying to summon the warmth and raise my power. Memories of my Society healing missions flashed through my head, reminding me of the confidence, the peacefulness, and the sheer invincibility I felt at the time. None of which I had now. Shivers ran through me, as if a window had been left open inside my gut, a cold draught rushing in.
I opened my eyes to find Miss Chen sighing. “Any hint of your powers returning?” I asked.
“Nothing.” Lines of tension feathered out from her mouth, held in a tight grimace. As she maneuvered to face me, her hands clenched the thin sheet, a wave of pain rolling over her body. “What about you?”
“I’m sorry,” I said for possibly the thousandth time. I bit down as Rose continued stitching my cut closed, the black thread slowly laddering up through my raw, red skin.
“I simply don’t understand what you were thinking!” Catherine was going to make a very good parent someday; she wielded the tone of disappointment perfectly, like a weapon.
“I was also there—” Miss Chen tried.
“I know an Evelyn plan when I see one,” Rose muttered.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, feeling faintly frustrated. Even though Captain Goode deliberately revealed his address, there was still a part of me that thought it a good plan. Was it a little … rash? Yes. I regretted my impetuousness, but I did not particularly enjoy this lecture, not when Captain Goode got lucky with the timing of our attack. I couldn’t imagine his plan was to keep all those people waiting there for days to ambush us.
“We did learn something new about the powers, though.…” I said.
“Yes—the only healer in the world is astonishingly irresponsible and selfish,” Catherine replied.
“And Mr. Adeoti will find something on Captain Goode’s glove.”
“Which was worth losing Mr. Jarsdel?” Catherine asked. “After all the hard work Rose and Mr. Kent did to persuade him to work with us?”
“I’m not one to call anyone selfish.” Mr. Kent was lounging against the doorway, his arms crossed lazily in front of him. “But it was not your best idea.”
That Mr. Kent should say such a thing stung almost as much as Rose’s needle. I was tired and feeling irritated and probably a little feverish, so it shouldn’t be any wonder that I snapped back at him.
“Really? This is coming from someone who finds every excuse to leave while the rest of us try to actually fix things?”
He pierced me with a long look and slowly slipped out of the room, his usually warm eyes dulled with a sadness that told me how beneath me the comment was.
That was unfair. Mr. Kent had been brave and gallant, staying with the group even after I had told him there would never be anything between us. He could have left London with his sister at any time. He had been anything but selfish.
My sister jerked the thread a little harder than was necessary and I winced. She did not even react.
“Very nice,” Catherine said. Her hands were on her hips now, and she was eyeing me with almost contempt. Knowing that I deserved it did not make any of it better, and I wished they were all out of the room. I wanted to be alone.
“Can you just let me sleep? You can be as mad at me as you would like tomorrow,” I said.
“We are all tired. Your sister hasn’t slept one wink and here she is, stitching you up as neatly as any doctor could do.” Catherine looked admiringly at the handiwork, then at my sister in full. Rose’s cheeks pinked a little, and I remembered her confidences.
I closed my eyes, a cold swirl of guilt roaming my stomach, and all I wanted to do was sleep, forget everything that had happened for a few dreamless hours.
“Done.” With one last pinch, Rose snipped the thread, and I felt the bed move as she shifted back. “I can’t do much for your paralyzed arm.”
“That’s all right; it’ll come back. Thank you.” I did not open my eyes. “Please get some rest.”
I heard a little scoff from Catherine, then a long sigh.
“Fine. But you should at least apologize to Mr. Braddock.”
Catherine had softened a little when I caught her eyes.
<
br /> “Why?”
“He has taken himself off to the attic. He doesn’t want to be near anyone without you to cancel his powers out.”
Rose dropped her tools into a borrowed medical kit from Tuffins and gave my hand a squeeze.
“Rest,” Rose said kindly. Then, with one more baleful glare in my direction from Catherine, the two of them left, and the door softly clicked shut.
I could feel Miss Chen’s eyes on me.
“Blast, blast, blast.” I kicked the covers off, jamming my feet into slippers.
I hadn’t thought about how this would affect Sebastian.
“He’s fine. He will just have to stay apart for a bit—” Miss Chen began. She tried to raise herself up a bit but winced.
“You don’t know him,” I muttered, wrapping a robe around me and letting the flash of pain as it brushed my stitches act as a useful reminder: I had been careless and selfish. “He is going to find some way to blame this all on himself.”
“Well, I still don’t see how it’s all your fault, but it’s certainly not his.”
“No,” I agreed, “not his at all.”
“I am sure he is sleeping,” Miss Chen tried again.
“He is not sleeping. He is brooding,” I corrected her and left the room, padding up to the attic.
My stomach sank as I thought about his fragile progress, the progress I took from him. He was only beginning to come back to us, to find some purpose and endure his power. And by losing my power, I’d isolated him from everyone else again.
Not to mention the rather daunting information I now had. That no one else in the world shared his power.
The attic room was not hard to find. I just continued up until I could go no farther, and at the top of a narrow set of stairs was a small door.
When I gently pushed it open, my breath actually caught.
Illuminated by a circle of warmth from an oil lamp, Sebastian lay on a thin camp bed, his shirt slightly parted, his legs crossed at the ankles as he read a book, licking a finger as he flipped a page. From across the room, I could make out a slight stubble and a smudge of dark lashes.
He somehow managed to look terribly romantic, terribly tragic, and yet ready to leap into danger at any moment.
“Do you put effort into looking like that?” I called.
He looked up, fumbling as he almost dropped his book. Very correctly he came to his feet, only he misjudged the height of the ceiling and hit it with a solid smack.
He held the top of his head, wincing, and I hurried toward him before I could think.
Just before I reached out to touch him, his eyes flew open, panic swirling inside, and he stumbled back. “No!”
I stopped, feeling the faintly thicker air. So this was his power.
“Get back! Get back!” Sebastian was huddled as far from me as he could get, though he was eyeing the window in a way that had me thinking he would jump out if necessary. I fell back till ten feet of space lay between us.
“It’s all right; it’s all right,” I said, hoping my composure would help his. “I am perfectly well.”
“Stay there,” he commanded, his hand shaking as he clutched at his shirt. “For God’s sake, Evelyn—”
“I am fine!”
“You could have been killed.”
“Do not be so theatrical. I would have needed to stand there for twelve hours, and boredom would have taken me first.”
He groaned and half started a new sentence a few times before finally sighing. “Just … stay there.”
“I’m not moving.”
“I know, I just…”
“Sebastian. Get back to your bed. I won’t move. I promise.” I finally took pity on him.
Slowly, he inched back to the bed, and I gingerly sat on the dusty floor. A lash of pain flew up my injured arm as I tried to rearrange myself with one hand. I must not have concealed the pain well, for Sebastian was staring at me, frowning.
“How badly injured are you?”
“Nothing Rose couldn’t take care of.”
He slumped back. “He could have killed you.”
“Actually, he only would have captured me and kept me in a cage for the rest of my life. He told me so himself.” I tried to smile, but it seemed like too much effort right now.
We sat in silence for a while.
“I am sorry.” I blurted the words out without really knowing I was going to apologize. But I was sorry that my actions had landed Sebastian in this room and sorrier still that he would undoubtedly find a way to make this all his fault.
“At this point, I am not even surprised you acted as you did.”
“Oh. Is that … better?”
“No.”
I scrutinized him thoroughly, looking for a hint that he was taking this on himself, but he seemed nothing more than irritated. “You are not going to do that thing you do, then?”
“What thing?
“The thing where you make everything all your fault?”
He snorted and raised one eyebrow, looking as imperious and arrogant as I had suspected him to be when we first met. “I have killed a lot of people, Evelyn—or at least my power has, but I cannot claim responsibility for when you act stubbornly. That is as certain as the sun rising in the morning.”
I could feel myself gaping but was unable to stop it. “That is … I am…”
He crossed his arms, making his shirt part again at the neck so I could make out a little golden skin beneath.
“Sorry,” I finally pronounced.
“No, you aren’t. If you were, you wouldn’t keep doing this. You wouldn’t keep acting like some sort of … of … Byronic hero.”
I did not hear him clearly. “Excuse me?”
“Your behavior, it’s everything you’ve ever accused me of. Your short temper, your cynicism, your brooding, your violent obsession—”
I glared at him. “You’re joking.”
“And most of all, this solitary revenge path. This foolish, self-destructive need to do everything on your own.”
I stood up, done with everyone in this house. “Fine. I acted rashly and made a mistake. I admit it. But please never call me—”
“It’s not just now!” He jumped off the bed, coming slightly closer. “You almost got yourself killed by Dr. Beck, you almost got yourself killed by the Society, and you’ve done it twice with Captain Goode. There’s a pattern. I have been thinking it for ages but didn’t want to say it, but it is here, and it is assuredly Byronic.”
I stepped forward as well, so we were as close as we could be without his powers affecting me. “You, of all people, have some nerve saying that. I rescind my apology.”
“I did not accept it anyway, as it was false.”
“Fine,” I growled. “Even though you are as wrong as … as … as something very wrong, I can’t change how you see me or how I am, for that matter. I won’t suddenly be a paragon of virtue or whatever it is you think I should be. I’m not ever going to be like … like…” Mae, some dark part of me wanted to scream.
Sebastian looked up so sharply I thought maybe I had said it out loud. But his jaw tightened and he pressed on. “I don’t want you to change. I … I just need you to talk to me.”
“I’ve done nothing these past weeks but try to get you to talk.”
“And you haven’t been telling me everything. You have to tell me when there’s bad news.”
“There is bad news all the time! It would be easier to tell you when there is not bad news!”
“And when you’re feeling frustrated.”
“Also, all the time!”
“And for God’s sake, stop trying to nobly protect my feelings by keeping things from me!”
“Fine!” I broke. “Captain Goode is smarter than us! And his power is stronger than our useless training! And we’re the only ones with our respective powers! There’s no one else! Happy?”
We stared at each other, both of us breathing heavily, a tension different from our powers snaking across
the room, ensnaring us both.
“What do you mean … only ones?” He was white-lipped, tense, and edgy as a rabbit surrounded by wolves.
“Captain Goode told me there is only one person with each power at a time. That when we die, our power is passed along to someone else to be born with it. So I am the only living person who can heal, and you—you are…”
“The only person whose touch kills,” he finished. “Could he have been lying?”
“Mr. Adeoti confirmed it with a glove we got from him.”
“I see,” he said numbly, taking a few steps back to sit down hard on his bed. The protesting creaks were the only sounds between us for some long seconds. Our argument had blown through the room, leaving us awkward and vulnerable.
“Tell me what you’re feeling,” I said.
Sebastian stared out at nothing, as inscrutable as a curtained window.
“This talking rule works the other way, too,” I said. “I can get Mr. Kent to help.”
That got his attention. “It feels … lonelier.” He frowned. “I’m glad to know there aren’t others out there with this power. I am. But I … there’s a part of me that hoped maybe someone had learned how to fully control it. Or there were enhancers other than Captain Goode, who would take it away.”
“Right.” That same weight sank deep in my gut—for Sebastian and myself. The sudden loss of people who I had assumed would be out there, somewhere. I had friends with powers, sure, but I had felt a special comfort reading about the healers in the Society of Aberrations library, thinking I might one day see if others shared my particular experiences. The strange freedom and recklessness our bodies gave us. The constant urge to fix things. The worry that I’d outlive everyone I knew. But it was only me now. One person.
“Your turn,” Sebastian said.
“Pressured,” I said slowly. This was the conversational equivalent of edging out onto a tight rope, uncertain if it would hold my weight or send me crashing to my death. But Sebastian had been brave enough to try. I could, too. “If I’m the only one in the world with this power, then doesn’t it make me responsible for every person’s health? Even though I can barely keep myself alive. I don’t know how I’m expected to keep the entire world alive at once.”
These Vengeful Souls Page 14
