The journey must have been about three hours, but it could have been days. All I knew was that the sun was rising when we finally arrived at Sebastian’s estate. No one would let me see him as he was removed from the carriage. And Miss Fahlstrom’s three words were all that repeated in my head, words I hoped were true.
“He will live.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
DEATH. All that was left was the book labeled Death.
My footsteps echoed through the empty Society of Aberrations library. The leather cover felt soft under my fingertips as I traced over the golden lettering. The last entry would need to be rewritten—Sebastian Braddock’s biography was hideously distorted. But there would be time for that.
Time for him to change what having his powers meant.
“Is this everything?” Miss Chen asked, picking up the last stack of books.
I cleared my throat. “I think so.”
“You do know that half these historical records are probably nonsense?” she asked, looking through them dubiously.
I did know. But for the past three days, I had been driving everyone mad worrying over Sebastian, despite Rose’s constant assurances that he would be well. I found it impossible to be easy until his power was lowered and I could see him with my own eyes. Helping him this way was the next best thing.
“Even the smallest bit of information might be important,” I said, clutching the volume to my chest. “Besides, Catherine would kill me if we left anything behind. Or let any of these get damaged.”
Miss Chen’s gaze snapped up and away from them. “That is a very good point,” she said, leading the way out.
The wooden library doors closed behind us with a great ache.
The building sat silent—none of the usual muffled sounds of training sessions or mission meetings. It had been three days since the Tower of London attack, and not a single member had returned. With Parliament still locked in discussions over what to do with the Society, we thought it best to make the decision for them. Starting with the removal of all the records, so powered people couldn’t be tracked and turned into tools for the government.
We circled the first floor one last time, checking for anything we might have missed. We passed familiar rooms and sights, the place barely changed under Captain Goode’s command. His office was eerie, and it felt like he had left only moments before. It still smelled like him—a thick, overwhelming scent of burnt lavender that filled the small room, finding its way into the pores of the wood paneling. It was neat, free of dust, and the only thing left was a thin notebook lying in a desk drawer. We took that, too, and continued down the quiet corridors, striding away from his ghost.
But there were ghosts everywhere, my stomach turning at the memories provoked by the morbid tour. The parlor where Miss Grey had accepted Captain Goode’s offer, eager to help the world. The garden where Oliver had trained and played. The foyer where Mr. Redburn had dropped us all after our trip to retrieve Sebastian. I hated that the Society hadn’t been what Miss Grey wanted. I hated that it hadn’t given her and Oliver the safety and guidance they needed. I hated that they had died for it. All I could do for them now was ensure their successors had better lives, the lives Miss Grey and Oliver had deserved. That still didn’t feel like enough, but I didn’t know if anything ever would.
A loud crack and a bang wrenched my attention back to the present. A large portrait came crashing down, the image of the Society’s founder shattering into several pieces, strewn across the foyer’s marble floor.
Miss Chen cocked her head, admiring her handiwork. “Wanted to do that every time I walked in here. Smug bastard.”
The rest of the group came running, alarmed by the noise, then amused by the sight. Mr. Adeoti clutched a satchel full of items he’d collected for research, his face shining. Emily was followed by a few floating sculptures, and Laura wobbled in, dwarfed by the heavy paintings she was attempting to carry in her skinny arms. The girls had great ambitions to help Mrs. Tuffins decorate her next boarding house.
“This is the last of it from the downstairs offices,” Mr. Kent said, emerging from a corridor behind them. He pushed a small handcart loaded with piles of papers and ledgers, pausing at the broken painting on the ground. “Oh, well done. I found a portrait of Captain Goode and added some rather untamed nose hairs, so if anyone ever finds it, that’s how he will be remembered.”
“And this is why we entrust you with the most important jobs,” I said.
“London does need a new hero. I can already tell the newspapers are getting desperate for stories,” Mr. Kent said, tapping his metal finger to his chest. “I am willing to step forward and make that sacrifice.”
Even though he was being his usual facetious self, I found there was a part of me taking that seriously. I could somehow see him that way. Not just in his square jaw and blazing eyes. He’d done the brave thing countless times for me, for all of us, and without hesitation.
“I really think you could,” I told him.
“And maybe my brothelgänger will finally get more customers,” he added, ruining it.
Miss Chen snorted, and I pushed Mr. Kent and his cart toward the exit.
Outside, the night was dark and cool, the moon covered with clouds, and the streets filled with fog. Mr. Kent’s cart rattled across the cobblestones, toward the carriages, Tuffins waiting with one, William the other. Tuffins turned to us from his perched seat up top, a flustered smile crossing his face, which must have been a trick of the light, because Tuffins never got flustered. Next to him, Miss Rao calmly stepped down from the carriage and opened the door. With her telekinetic power, Emily easily loaded the rest of the records and the collected artwork into the back of the carriage.
And we were done. Almost. Just one last matter.
We all turned back to the Society of Aberrations.
“Does anyone have any last words? A change of heart? An insatiable desire to take it over?” Miss Chen asked.
The last one was tempting. And it was what Miss Grey would have wanted. I couldn’t help but imagine everything I might do if I were in charge. Gather every power as soon as it emerges anew, research them to learn every benefit and quirk, teach the children to use them responsibly, capture the people who didn’t, send our powers to other countries in an instant to peacefully solve any crisis. We’d protect the world. We’d bring peace all over. We’d save everyone.
But that’s what Captain Goode had claimed the Society of Aberrations had wanted to do. And somewhere along the way, their purpose got twisted and rationalized into protecting England first at the cost of the rest of the world. Someone had risen to power, using the Society for selfish gains, keeping people against their will, forcing them to maintain an empire. And it would happen again. I was not the right person to save the world. There really was no person who could do that. Even if we had the best intentions, it was dangerous to gather the powers together to be wielded like weapons. They needed to be spread out, shared, and balanced—shields to prevent anything like this from happening again.
“Good riddance,” I said.
Miss Chen took that as her cue. Cracks snaked their way up and down the brick facade of the Society. Windows shattered, walls exploded, the street rumbled, and the building groaned. The center crumbled away first, floor by floor, and the rest of the building collapsed inward with a massive boom and a rush of dust and debris that Miss Rao’s winds blew away from us. As everything settled and silence fell upon the street again, we found a pathetic pile of crushed brick and splintered wood where this epicenter of power had stood.
Now we were done.
Mr. Adeoti stared at the ruins, his face solemn. “There are probably going to be many more secret societies out there soon,” he said. “Hopefully one will be good.” I took his arm and gave it a quick squeeze as we turned back to the carriages.
“That’s everything, Tuffins,” I said, closing the door on the records and books. “Thank you. Please tell your mother we will call so
on with plans for her new boarding house.”
“I will,” he said, giving me a nod, then a second to Miss Rao. “And, Miss Rao, I will consider your offer.”
She bowed her head regally, and Tuffins set the horses off. His carriage disappeared into the fog toward Catherine’s house to drop off the last of the Society’s property.
“And what offer is that?” Mr. Kent asked, unable to resist.
“I invited him to India to help me rid it of all the Englishmen,” Miss Rao answered with a frown. “If I keep doing this alone, I’ll only be deemed a villain like your deadly friend, so I need many others. The rest of you may come if you must. Except you, truthseeker.”
An angry growl of thunder shook the sky.
“Well, all this noise must have woken a person or two. We should probably leave,” Mr. Kent said, hurrying to William’s carriage.
We settled ourselves in, sharing smiles at a job well done. A pleasant silence reigned for a moment, before Mr. Kent found the courage to speak again and clapped his hands. “So, Miss Rao has her very good plan that I will not ask anything more about. What about you, Miss Chen?” he asked.
She shrugged, of course, but looked out the window thoughtfully. “Find my family in New York, I think. I’d like to see my brother. Want to come visit?”
“Ah, I’ve heard horrible stories of deceit and debauchery from there. It sounds lovely,” Mr. Kent said. His eyes slid toward Laura and Emily. “But I don’t believe I can quite destroy my family’s name yet.”
“Laura and I have decided to never marry,” Emily announced. “Maybe that will help.”
Mr. Kent nodded at her gratefully.
“We are going to be spinsters!” Laura agreed, like it was the naughtiest word she knew. “And grow old together as the best of friends. We shall have five puppies.”
Mr. Kent was looking rather skeptical but admitted grudgingly, “I should like to see my stepmother’s house overrun with muddy dogs.”
“Oh! Can you give the house to Mrs. Tuffins?” Laura asked, bright eyed and overflowing. “She would take such good care of it. And we can all live together!”
Mr. Kent fixed her with a thoughtful look. “Now that’s an idea, Kit.…”
The rest of the drive passed merrily, with everyone batting around ideas for the future—places to travel, ways to make Mr. Kent even more disreputable. But I found myself growing anxious the closer we got, the lighter the sky grew. It was almost time, finally.
My thoughtful sister seemed to be well aware of that. When our carriage rolled to a stop at Sebastian’s country estate, dawn breaking lightly over the trees, Rose came out to meet us, bleary eyed and wrapped in a blanket.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Well, I think everything is settled,” I said, “given what our most pressing concerns are now.…”
Behind me, Mr. Kent and Miss Chen were loudly arguing about whether blackmail or the destruction of buildings was more satisfying and Mr. Adeoti was offering to settle the matter by experiencing both with his power.
“Perfect,” she said, a true smile settling peacefully on her face. She reached one arm out of her blanket and pulled mine in under it. “His powers should be low enough now. Shall we go visit him?”
“Yes,” I said, holding tightly.
“Miss Wyndham!” Mr. Kent called after me. “Don’t forget to tell Mr. Braddock that he is back to owing me his life!”
“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear that,” I replied.
“Who wouldn’t want an excuse to keep me in their life?” Mr. Kent asked.
There were a couple replies from the group that made Mr. Kent frown regretfully over asking the rhetorical question, but my honest response—“I couldn’t possibly imagine.”—seemed to help.
He looked at me speculatively for a few heartbeats, his warm eyes sparkling with the sunrise, lips smirking. Then he turned smartly back to the house, catching Laura around the waist and hoisting her off her feet, sending into her a fit of giggles and shrieks as they went inside.
Rose’s hand was warm on my arm, and she was quiet as we slipped away, heading out to the parson’s cottage. The morning dew dampened our skirts as we climbed the rolling hills. The air was warm, and flowers were beginning to open their buds as the sun called to them. The thought of spring sent a reflexive shudder through me. A new London Season would be starting soon.
“I wonder what Mother would say about the coming Season,” I said. “After all this.”
Rose gave me a sad smile. “I believe she’d be rejoicing over arranging the match between you and Mr. Braddock.”
“Oh yes, she’d take full credit for it,” I said, feeling a pang of sadness that I’d never get to argue with her over that. “And she’d be making big plans for your debut.”
“I don’t think she’d have planned for my choice of suitor,” Rose said. “Or what I want to do.”
“Medical school?” I asked.
Rose shook her head. “No, maybe one day, but … well, Catherine and I have been thinking about setting up a … a sanctuary, of sorts, with Mr. Adeoti. We thought it could even be … something of a place powered people can visit for some peace. A second home in London. We want to speak to Mrs. Tuffins and see if she would like to live there with us. We owe her a house, after all.”
“Mr. Kent may be in the middle of offering her his home, but it’s a wonderful idea,” I said. “But what about … your worries about … Catherine?”
Rose gave me one burning look, then lowered her eyes. “Well, I talked to Mr. Adeoti about Mr. Jarsdel’s lost love for me. He suspects my powers’ effects could have properties like Mr. Braddock’s. They likely wear off when I’m away from someone longer than I’m with them.”
I stopped walking. “So … if you’re with someone for a day and then you leave for a day, they return to normal?”
Rose nodded hesitantly. “At least I hope so. Catherine is going to go stay with her parents for a while. And when she returns … if I could know, could really know if someone … felt something for me, not as a part of my powers, well. Then maybe…” She trailed off, but the light didn’t leave her yet.
I hugged her to my side, hoping it was true. God, I hoped it was true. Rose deserved it. She deserved to have the life and home she wanted.
I finally let go of her, letting her breathe again. “I think it good that one of us will stay here.” Only as I said it did I realize that I would not remain in London, in England.
She did not protest as I expected. Just sighed and gave me a sidelong look. “I always thought London was too small for you.”
“Yes, tiny city, pathetic, really,” I said.
We resumed our walking, and after a few minutes we finally made it to a small cottage nestled by a stream. It looked abandoned, tall grass and ivy half covering it. I felt suddenly shy, and Rose gave me an amused look before stepping forward and knocking solidly on the front door.
“Mr. Braddock?”
No response. She knocked again, louder. My heart beating, I pushed the door open and found the reason for the silence. The room was empty, the bed in disarray, and the window open, curtains swaying in the breeze. Sebastian had run away again.
“I am going to kill him,” I growled. “And then I’m going to somehow heal him and kill him again.”
“Ev, don’t be hasty—” Rose said.
“Where’s my dagger fan?” I asked.
“It’s … right here,” Sebastian’s voice called from behind us.
He was coming from the stream, soaking wet, the dagger in one hand, a shirt in the other. He was naked to the waist and very suddenly aware of that fact upon seeing our expressions. My mouth was open, but I was entirely unable to shut it. A sunlit, bare-chested, and wounded Sebastian was too much for me, and he seemed to realize it. He muttered an apology and gently eased his shirt on, which got rather wet and clingy in the process, doing little to help his indecent appearance once it was on.
The entire sight ma
de it difficult to figure out what to do with my words, hands, life, and even anger, but it had to go somewhere. “You! You-you shouldn’t be out of bed … cleaning things!” I threw my hands up wildly, aware that I needed to find some control over myself.
He frowned. “I needed to wash up. I was careful with my woun—”
“I thought you ran away!” I said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t wait attentively at the door for you for three full days,” he countered, crossing his arms.
“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner,” I retorted. “But I was recovering, and you would have killed me.”
“Oh look! Foliage!” Rose declared. “How fascinating. I will leave you two.”
She hurried off back toward the main house. In silence, we watched her disappear over the hill. I felt vaguely ridiculous.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, almost stubbornly.
“I’m glad you are, too,” I replied. We stared out along the green of the estate, the beauty of the day creating a hazy, dreamy shimmer.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see this place again,” he murmured, staring at the stream and the edge of the woods.
“It’s beautiful here,” I begrudgingly admitted.
“When the Lodges visited, Henry, Mae, and I used to come here to play games,” Sebastian said. “We had one where we each wrote a secret of ours on a piece of paper and picked a hiding place in this area. Then the other two would ask five questions each about the hiding spot and try to find it.”
It was physically impossible to stay angry imagining a young Sebastian running about the trees with Mae and her brother. A happy, unencumbered Sebastian. A Sebastian before his power emerged.
“What were your secrets?” I asked.
“Back then, they were all the little things I felt guilty about. Like losing a toy I had received as a gift or breaking a glass. Henry’s were usually things he wanted to do. Places he wanted to visit. And Mae’s … I don’t really know.”
These Vengeful Souls Page 25
