I trained my gun on Captain Goode and kept my distance, giving him a moment to feel the pain and realize the situation he was in. “If you don’t want to die, you will turn my power on, turn over, and stay down.”
He simply stayed still, stared at me, and breathed. No warmth of power came.
“You will bleed to death,” I told him.
“No, I know how I am going to die,” Captain Goode said with a disconcerting smile. “The same way as the rest of you.” He turned his glassy gaze to Sebastian’s foot and reached out. “I’ll see you in fourteen years.”
No.
His body went still in an instant. I fired futile shots at him, but it was too late. The effect was immediate, and it knocked the breath out of me. For the first time, I felt the full power of Sebastian Braddock.
One, two, three …
My legs went weak, my breath short. I struggled for air, choking, feeling energy leaving me, my coughs speckling the floor with blood. I spun around to find Mr. Kent and Miss Fahlstrom experiencing the same effects, patches of blue appearing on their skin. Captain Goode had turned Sebastian’s power up so high that his presence was as deadly as his touch was. That meant twenty seconds until we would all fall unconscious. Thirty until death.
Four, five, six …
Tied up next to Captain Goode’s corpse sat Sebastian, panic seizing his body. He struggled against his restraints with fervency and fury. Tears and sweat were streaking his face. “Evelyn!” he roared.
My legs trembled as my eyes met his.
Seven, eight, nine …
“Evelyn! Please! You must!” Sebastian pleaded.
I knew what he wanted me to do. What I had to do. I sucked in a desperate breath of air and took an agonizing step in his direction. And then another. It felt like I was wasting away as I lurched toward him. The life slowly chipping and flaking off of my body. I fell to my knees, wheezing, the world dimming and fading and disintegrating around me.
Twelve, thirteen, fourteen …
“Evelyn,” Sebastian said, his voice close, encouraging. “Evelyn.”
I kept going, kept crawling forward, following. Until he was suddenly there, in front of me, and there was nowhere to run.
“Sebastian,” I gasped. “I don’t—”
“Don’t let this happen again,” he said, he sobbed. “Please. Not to you. Never to you.”
I gazed at him, not wanting this to be the last time, and not wanting this to be like last time. His long, wavering eyelashes, that stern brow, those lips searching for words. I wanted to kiss him. If there was a time for magic, then it would be now, and through some miracle of love my power would be enhanced and cancel his out and save all of our lives.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen …
My body remained cold and powerless. Our powers were not magic. A kiss would kill me. My brain was moving so slowly, searching for another way, there had to be something. Please, anything. Deep breath. Raise your power. You useless, useless girl.
His jaw tightened, and he gave me the poorest excuse for a smile. “Find the successor. Help them control it better than I could.”
I took up my dagger and gripped it tightly. I felt weak. I felt powerless. I shook my head. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”
Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.
Before he could say anything else, the blade slid into him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
HE SOBBED OUT a high-pitched whimper as the dagger lodged above his hip and I prayed that I’d missed his vital organs. I felt a weight lifted, the thick smog of his power dissipating, and my breath came easier, even as I cried at his horrible groans of pain.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m so sorry, my love, but you’re right. No one else can die, especially not you. I need you to fight. Please, Sebastian. Fight.”
Blood poured out of his wound, and I staggered over to rip off Captain Goode’s jacket to temper the bleeding.
I gently draped the thick fabric over his stomach, the proximity making my head spin. “Hold this firmly. Just for a little while. Please.”
His hand shifted weakly onto the bloody jacket and he moaned. My heart twisted at the sound, tightening my chest so it was hard to breathe.
Though that was likely his power still.
I climbed to my feet, my bones aching, my head stuffy, shivers racking my frame. The effects of his power still wore on me without my healing to reverse them. I’d infected myself to the very edge. The next bit of exposure I had to him could knock me unconscious.
The same was true with Mr. Kent and Miss Fahlstrom. They looked about as bad as I felt, but they were still conscious and desperate to help. I set to work untying their restraints.
“Miss Wyndham, what did you do?” Mr. Kent asked.
“I weakened his power by hurt-hurting him.” I said. “But I-I don’t know how long he’ll last or how long we will or—”
Mr. Kent grabbed my shoulders to stop me from shaking. Though he looked as pale and sick as ever, his brown eyes still glowed with urgency. “I am going for help,” he reassured me. He knelt down to take his pistol and removed a handkerchief from his pocket. “I will bring them and keep them from running into that singing woman. Miss Fahlstrom, find something to help us carry Mr. Braddock out of here.”
She nodded and stumbled down the stairs to the armory, while Mr. Kent followed, tearing the handkerchief in two and blocking his ears. Before he left, he turned and hesitated, eyes on Sebastian. “Don’t let him die.” And he was gone.
I made my way to a window facing the Thames and pushed it open. “If you can hear me, see me, Arthur, William, please hurry.” Night still lingered, and it was impossible to see anything across the river. I received no response, but I had to trust they heard me. I had to trust they were coming.
“Sebastian?” I called out, my voice echoing across the room. “Are you still awake?”
He groaned, and I watched him readjust slowly and painfully. His hands and torso were drenched in blood. “Yes.”
“Good. You have to stay that way,” I said, limping over to the opposite end of the room from him.
I wanted nothing more than to fling myself onto him, heal the damage I had inflicted. Another cough and sob escaped me, and I turned away miserably. I could not go to him; I had no idea what level his power was at. I suspected I’d brought him down to near his normal level, but I didn’t quite have stabbing down to a science yet. I didn’t know whether his range would be ten feet or thirty, and I didn’t know how many more seconds I could remain conscious in either case. My body had already been running on sheer panic for the past twenty minutes, and that had to run out sometime.
I collapsed against the wall and slid ungracefully to the ground. “Sebastian? How … how are you?” I asked.
“It’s … a little uncomfortable.”
“We are in a life-or-death situation; you don’t have to spare my feelings.”
“It’s exceedingly uncomfortable. And exhausting.”
“Help is coming. Don’t fall asleep. Fight it,” I said, trying to calm both of us. “Keep your eyes open and keep talking.”
There was a long pause. “I … can’t think of anything to talk about,” he said.
“Understandable. We live such boring lives,” I said, immediately regretting sarcasm for what could easily be my last words to him.
If Sebastian died …
“You … tell me … about tonight.”
“Well, we had help from Arthur and William. And Miss Rao, even.”
“Huh,” Sebastian’s voice was fainter, and I spoke louder in response, hoping to rouse him.
“Oh! Miss Chen received a proposal today,” I said. “From Mr. Pratt.”
Sebastian’s head lolled forward. “What did she say?”
“She politely declined.”
“And you … beat him?”
“Yes,” I said numbly. None of the night felt real. “We used his power against him. Did that to
a number of people on their side, actually.”
“You are remarkable, Evelyn Wyndham.”
“I … it was mostly the others. Rose, Emily, Miss Rao, and Miss Chen.”
“They are remarkable, too,” Sebastian said. “But you found a way to storm head-on through the entire Society to get here—”
“Half,” I corrected.
“And if”—he coughed—“that doesn’t sound like an Evelyn plan … I don’t know what does.”
“And if nobly sacrificing and turning yourself in to the enemy isn’t a Sebastian plan, I don’t know what is,” I replied. “Honestly, when you are back to your old self, I will murder you for being so insufferably, horribly noble.”
“Mm.” The faint murmur from him barely made it across the room.
“Sebastian! Wake up!” I half yelled, half coughed.
His head shook and slumped back. “I am. I am.”
“You need to talk.”
“I was,” he said. “I don’t … my head … it’s hard to think.”
“Anything,” I pleaded, hoping I didn’t sound like I thought he was dying. “You can say anything at all, whatever is in your head. Just a little while longer.”
Please. Please let help come.
Another silence.
“Sebastian!”
“She … she walks in beauty, like the night,” he recited, his voice thin and terribly weak.
“Oh no,” I moaned, tasting tears as my lips cracked into a watery smile. “Not that.”
He ignored me, of course. “Of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that’s best of dark and bright; Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light; Which heaven to gaudy day…”
“Rhymes with eyes,” I encouraged him. “It’s what you do when I accuse you of a Lord Byron obsession.”
Silence.
“Sebastian!”
No response. I pushed myself back to my feet and crossed the room to him. I gritted my teeth and tensed every muscle, hoping to withstand a couple more seconds trying to wake him back up. “Sebastian, love, can you hear me?”
He wasn’t moving. I tapped the hilt of my dagger, which was still lodged in his abdomen. It did nothing. I couldn’t tell if his breathing had gotten too shallow, or he wasn’t breathing at all and my useless, blurry eyes weren’t helping.
And then I was sobbing, begging every god and demon I could imagine, praying feverishly to let him live, to let me stay conscious and find some way to heal him.
I took my fingers—they were freckled with terrifying blue splotches—and pressed them to his neck and closed my eyes.
There was a pounding in my head that sounded like footsteps.
Beneath my fingers, I felt nothing.
A voice rang out from the stairs.
And then I felt like nothing.
Come back, Sebastian.
Come back.
* * *
“Come back to me, Evelyn! Please!”
I opened my eyes at my sister’s voice. I was so near Sebastian and still alive. It must have been seconds only that I lay next to him.
“Come to me, darling, please, I will heal him but you must come to me.” Rose was begging, her voice low and sweet, and I had to heed her, dragging myself to her with fingertips and great lurches of movement that exhausted me. But I fought the swirling darkness that wanted to claim me, pushing myself forward as she continued to promise me that it would be all right.
“Here, Emily, carefully.”
The heaviness that had settled inside my head lifted as I dragged myself away from Sebastian. Rose was holding up a threaded needle, Emily staring at it in concentration.
“Mr. Kent, go to him slowly, but if you think it’s too much, come back. We don’t know what his power is like right now.” Rose was wringing her hands, betraying her calm voice. “But we must find a way to stop that bleeding.”
Mr. Kent took a cautious step to Sebastian, testing each one, gritting his teeth as he got closer. “I think I can manage for a few minutes.”
Sebastian was not moving, and I could not control my panicked gasps.
“Rose, Rose, we have to—”
“I am. I am.” She caught my arm, but her eyes were on Mr. Kent as he used his metal hand to lift the layers of fabric so Rose could see what needed to be done. She and Emily moved closer, blocking my view of Sebastian.
“Emily, you need to go slowly and neatly; think of it like embroidery—” Rose explained what she would have to do, while Emily took control of the needle, testing it. Mr. Kent was getting paler and blinking his eyes to stay conscious when Rose told him he had to pull out the dagger.
“As swiftly as possible, then press hard on the wound.”
Sebastian’s eyes did open then, and the sound he made was something I never wanted to hear again.
But he was alive.
Emily worked the airborne needle seamlessly, Rose guiding her every stitch. They found their rhythm and finished as Mr. Kent fell into a coughing fit.
“So, so tired.” There was no jest in his voice, and Rose cut the thread and sent him away urgently. He made it back to me, leaning entirely against the stone wall, gasping for breath.
“Will he be all right now?” I called to Rose, begging her to tell me the worst was over.
“I don’t … I don’t know.” Rose handed Emily a bandage lined with tape, which she telekinetically pressed down. “Miss Kane, can you get him downstairs?”
Mr. Kent tried to help me up, but we were both too unsteady after our long exposure, pulling each other down. Rose had to get between us, her small frame stronger than I had thought, as she helped us slowly to the stairs.
Emily concentrated on Sebastian, untying his restraints and gently floating him up. She slowly descended the narrow spiral stairs backward, maneuvering him down after her. His limbs and head dangled like a rag doll’s, and I begged him to stay alive.
Outside the White Tower, our friends were waiting. Woozy, exhausted, and heartsick, I nearly collapsed into Arthur’s arms, while Miss Chen and Laura hurried to help Mr. Kent and Catherine held Rose.
“Arthur, is he still…?” I asked. “Can you hear a heartbeat?”
Arthur brought me a few steps closer to Sebastian’s floating body, and tilted his head for an agonizing moment before nodding. “I can ’ear it, but it’s weak.”
Alive then, for now. Thank heavens. Just a little while longer.
We made a sad but terrifying parade as we slowly trudged back through the tower, over the rubble, and around the smoldering flames. All around us, on the tower green, the outer ward, and along the battlements, bodies lay sleeping and vines slowly moved them outside the walls. Miss Tolman sat tied up in one corner, her mouth stuffed with a rag and her baleful glare saying enough.
We made it over the moat and to the last tower, where William, Mr. Adeoti, and two carriages waited for us. Emily lay Sebastian down gently in the first one, then stumbled back in exhaustion into Rose’s and Catherine’s arms.
“Army’s on their way,” William said, peering off into the darkness to the north. “Preparing to storm the place, looksit.”
“We should disappear quickly. For Mr. Braddock’s safety and theirs,” Catherine said. “I don’t know if they are coming because of Captain Goode’s illegal takeover of the tower, or because of the battle.”
From not far off, I could hear the calls and stomps preceding the arrival of the army. What the soldiers would do once they arrived and found this scene, I did not know. But we couldn’t leave everyone else here.
“What about all the Society members?” I rasped. At some point I had either cried myself raw or lost the energy required for speaking. “We need to keep the dangerous ones bound. But most of the others don’t deserve to be punished. Not with Captain Goode forcing them.”
“George is moving them to a raft,” Miss Fahlstrom said, emerging from the Thames side of the tower.
My body stiffened instinctively at the sight of her, but Mr.
Kent was quick to put in his reassurances.
“She stopped helping … Captain Goode after the trial,” he said, his breath heavy.
“I’m sorry I helped him,” she said, coughing and grasping the stone tower next to her, weak from Sebastian’s power, too. “I only wanted to protect everyone with my warnings.”
Mr. Adeoti hastened over to give her support. “I can sort out who should be left for the police to arrest.”
“I’ll take the others to our secret rooms,” Arthur said. “Let them decide what to do from there.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“You best be goin’ now,” Arthur said, giving William a wave. “Braddock’s country home is in Barking. Long ride but the safest place for ’em.”
I nodded, barely understanding, and tried to climb into Sebastian’s carriage. About ten arms pulled me back and many insistent points were made about me dying if I stayed with him for the ride. But I refused to let him travel alone, imagining we would find him dead when we arrived. Miss Rao grumpily agreed to get in with him but would knock at the roof once she could take no more.
With Arthur staying behind, Miss Chen volunteered to drive the other carriage. The rest of us piled inside, Laura in Mr. Kent’s arms, clinging to his neck with tears sliding down her pale cheeks. I rested on Rose’s lap, she and Catherine stroking my hair and murmuring sounds of reassurance. Emily dozed off immediately on Catherine’s shoulder. Miss Fahlstrom left me with a short message before the door was shut and we set off.
Every ten minutes or so, the carriages stopped, and someone new volunteered to go with Sebastian. Each time I received a full report of him still being alive, still breathing. Rose tried to convince me that it was good that he was still unconscious and therefore unbothered by the jerks and buckles of the carriage.
These Vengeful Souls Page 24
