“I want justice,” I said, my voice a low hiss. “I want the truth.” I took another step toward him, and Victor backed away, uneasy. “You abandoned me, Victor. You gave me your word, and you lied. You lied about everything.”
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said quietly. “The creature killed Henry in the islands, and I was arrested for the murder. I spent months in prison, alone and deathly ill.”
“Then answer me this—would you have come back for me?” The silence between us was deafening. “Did you even bother to look for me at all?” Of course he hadn’t. He had been content to put me out of his mind, to return to his life in Geneva as if nothing had changed. My heart burned with anger. “Do you know what happened after you left me, Victor? Do you know what I had to do to survive? I barely escaped from the monster you had promised me to. The only people who ever showed me kindness and love were cut down before my eyes.” I held up my hands for him to see. “I’ve taken lives with these hands.”
Victor’s eyes widened with shock. “Not a day has gone by since we parted that I haven’t thought of you. I never wanted any of this for you.”
“And I never asked to be a part of your experiments. You took a poor servant girl and turned her into a monster.”
Now it was Victor’s turn to be angry. “I cared for Justine—like she was my own sister.”
“I’m not Justine,” I said. “Neither am I the girl you knew months ago.”
“I’m beginning to understand that,” Victor replied without a trace of the compassion he had once showed me.
At last I gave voice to the question I had been waiting to ask. “If you cared so much for Justine, then why did you allow her to die?” The question stopped Victor dead in his tracks. “That’s right. The creature told me that you were there when they hanged me. It’s true, isn’t it?” His silence said enough. “How could you, Victor? Have you no pity in your heart? Answer me,” I ordered when he remained quiet.
“By the time they arrested Justine, it was already too late. William was dead, strangled, and there was nothing I could do to save him. I knew at once the monster had done it. I left for the city, desperate to protect Justine, but when I arrived…” He looked up at me, almost pleading for me to understand. “If I had told the crowd my story, they never would have believed me. They would have thought I was insane. They would have locked me away, and the creature would have been free to finish what he started.”
“You’re a coward,” I said coldly. “You weren’t afraid that the people wouldn’t believe you—you were afraid that they would. You didn’t want to risk your reputation, or that of your family. Perhaps you were concerned about what Elizabeth would think if she learned how you had used your time in Ingolstadt, so you looked on as an innocent girl was sentenced to death.” I stared at my creator across the cold night, and couldn’t understand how I ever loved this man.
“Persephone…”
“You haven’t told them, have you? You haven’t told her.” I sneered at him. “What do you imagine they’ll think when they discover the truth—that little William’s death was all your fault? Or that you brought a vengeful, stitched-up corpse to their door?”
“Leave my family out of this,” he said.
“Or what?” I demanded. “I thought the creature was the monster.” I shook my head, disappointed. “Why didn’t you tell me about Gerhardt, Victor? You allowed me to fall in love with you, knowing all the while what I had left behind—what you took from me?”
Before he could speak, I heard footsteps nearby, and when I peered into the darkness, there were torches approaching through the fog. Voices rang out as the sound of barking dogs filled the night sky.
Victor followed my gaze and lifted his lantern in their direction. “We’re not alone,” he said, but I was already gone.
Chapter Fourteen
A sliver of moonlight escaped the clouds, slipping in through the open door behind me. The light quickly faded as I eased the door shut. As expected, the inn was abandoned in the wee hours of morning. Still, I was careful to avoid being seen, with no particular desire for anyone to have cause to question my whereabouts. I moved through the shadows, gliding over the creaky floorboards without making a sound.
After ascending the stairs, I quietly closed the door to my room and disappeared within. The curtains remained closed, permitting only a trickle of moonlight inside. Whoever it was who had forced their way into my room had not returned during my absence. I had my suspicions, but for the moment the unseen stalker was not my chief concern.
I rested my hands on the dresser and noticed they were shaking in the dim light. My conversation with Victor had affected me more than I had anticipated. Scowling at the display of weakness, I steadied my hands through force of will and wiped my hand across my face, smearing my cosmetics. I stared at my reflection with surprise, as if for a moment I had allowed myself to believe I was actually still human. In my anger, I struck the mirror with my fist without thinking A wave of cracks splintered across the surface of the glass.
That was foolish, I thought, berating myself for the loss of control. Master yourself. You’ve come too far to jeopardize everything now. Nevertheless, it was difficult to push down the rising anger inside me. I felt betrayed at the ease with which Victor had moved on without me, when not a day had passed in Dot’s hut that I hadn’t wished to see his face one more time. I was furious with him, but was it because of everything he had taken from me, or because he had scorned me? Either way, I wanted Victor to feel my pain, even if the part of me that once cared for him recoiled at the degree to which my heart had hardened.
I once expected returning to Geneva would shake loose my memories of the past, but instead the opposite seemed to hold true. I felt more a stranger to Justine than ever before, and not merely because I was beginning to accept that my full memory would never return. Justine would never have sought revenge against anyone, no matter how they had wronged her. As for me, the only question was how far I was willing to go to achieve my goals, and although I was not entirely sure of the answer, I suspected it was one of which my former self would have disapproved. But she was dead and I was not.
Within hours the morning sun crept over the sky. I thought it best to allow Victor to worry about my intentions while I engaged in other pursuits—chiefly, familiarizing myself with the city and her secrets. I emerged from the inn and walked through Geneva, listening to every idle exchange and taking in all the local gossip. There were too many parishioners at the church to take my revenge on Father Wilhelm, so instead I went in search of Constable Rengel.
The constable was not a particularly difficult man to find, though a soldier flanked him on each side, which made it impossible to get close to him. I followed him as he made his way about the city, hoping he would eventually lead me to where he lived. It was clear from my observations that the constable exercised a considerable amount of power; even his subordinates seemed frightened of him. There was something severe about the way he carried himself, something that reminded me of a cold anger I understood all too well. In all the time I followed him, I never once saw the man smile.
It wasn’t until after the constable visited the mortician and later a cemetery within the city limits that I realized it was he who had sent men into the graveyard when I was with Victor.
He’s trying to catch Victor in the act, I thought. Rengel was clearly investigating the rumors of Victor’s experiments. That was probably why he had involved Ernest in his efforts, though that wouldn’t explain why the latter would willingly conspire against his own family. I paused, wondering if I could turn the constable’s grudge against the Frankenstein family to my advantage. Perhaps it would be better to let him be for the moment.
So intent was I in spying on the constable that I failed to notice the person standing behind me.
“Justine?”
When spoken, the name sounded more like a plea than a question or greeting. I knew at once who had uttered it. My body went rigid
at the sound of his voice. There was silence for a long moment as I stood with my back turned, the wind caressing my neck, and a lifetime seemed to pass in the time I took to turn around and face him.
When Gerhardt saw me, a change came over his face, like a man emerging at last from a deep sleep. “It is you.”
Justine loved this man so strongly that even now a part of me wanted nothing more than to close the gap between us and throw myself into his arms. I overcame the impulse and kept my expression set in stone. Justine may have loved Gerhardt, but he was only a stranger to Persephone. And yet, even now I could not bring myself to look away as he approached, though I knew it meant losing track of the constable.
“I thought it was a dream,” Gerhardt muttered almost to himself, watching me as if mesmerized. His gaze moved over me, taking in the changes to my hair and the elegant clothes I wore. “You look different, but it’s you.” He lifted his hand toward my face, as if afraid I was an apparition who might vanish at his touch. For a brief moment, I imagined how his hand might feel against my skin, until I remembered how he had reacted the last time we touched, and I seized his hand before it grazed my skin.
“You are mistaken,” I said gently but firmly. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”
Gerhardt’s brow furrowed, and he withdrew his hand. “You must be her,” he said. “You must.” Though the smell of alcohol was no longer on his breath, his eyes were red and bloodshot. He still had on the same ragged clothes he had worn the previous day, which were an ill fit on his muscular frame. His hair was unkempt and covered in specks of hay, and he sported a rough-looking beard—none of which matched the image in Justine’s memories of him.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”
Gerhardt’s expression faltered as he met my amber-colored eyes, an unmistakable distinction between Justine and me. He looked away and swallowed hard, and then glanced back as if struck by a sudden realization. “I remember you now. You were with Elizabeth outside the pub.”
I nodded. “I don’t have any money, if that’s what you’re after.” He looked as if he had been physically struck by my words. “Now I’m afraid I must be on my way,” I said, turning to go.
“Wait,” Gerhardt said suddenly, grabbing my arm. When I turned around and glared at him, he released my arm and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Please. I didn’t mean to alarm you. It’s just that you remind me of someone I used to know. Looking at you—it’s as if she stepped out of the grave. Her name was Justine.”
He didn’t know how right he was. The wind howled between us, and I couldn’t decide to leave or stay, paralyzed by indecision. My heart softened at the way he said Justine’s name, and I wrestled with slumbering feelings of long-lost love. He will make me weak, I told myself. The same way Victor made me weak—and I must be strong now, if I’m to have my revenge.
People began to move around us as we stood stationary on the street corner. “Walk with me,” I said finally, and together we moved through the city, focused only on one another. “Elizabeth told me your name.”
“You’re a friend of hers?” he asked, and I nodded.
“My name is Penny Moritz,” I replied. “I am Justine’s cousin.”
The look of disappointment and disbelief was evident in his face. “Justine never mentioned you,” he said suspiciously, his brow furrowing.
I shrugged to indicate my indifference to his misgivings. “I’m not surprised. It had been many years since last we saw each other. When I learned of her death, I returned to Geneva to learn how she died.” I paused. “I take it you were close to her?”
“We first met only a few years ago,” he said. “It seems like a lifetime ago now. I knew right away that she was special.”
“Tell me of her, if you would be so kind,” I said. “I remember so little about her.”
He shook his head. “Justine had an inner beauty unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She was good and kind. She made everyone around her better just by knowing her.” He smiled for an instant, a sad reminder of distant happiness. “I had to work to win her over. She was in love with someone else when we met, even if she didn’t realize it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, intrigued.
“He was a member of the family she served,” Gerhardt answered. “Victor Frankenstein, the family’s oldest son.” His smile faded as he said Victor’s name. “I think she had loved him since she was a girl, but it was impossible. Not because of her station—Victor only had eyes for Elizabeth.”
“You sound as if you dislike the man.”
“Do I?” He chuckled softly. “When Justine died—when his own brother was killed—Victor left the country with his friend Henry before their bodies were cold. He left the rest of us to pick up the pieces. I would have given anything for just one more moment with her, and he didn’t lift a finger to help her when the mob took her.”
“You must have cared for her a great deal,” I said, banishing the memory of when we kissed under the trees from my mind.
Gerhardt laughed, a hollow, mournful sound. “I loved her with everything in me,” he said. “I love her still.”
“Then where were you when she died?” I asked, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. “Why didn’t you protect her?”
He hung his head in shame. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t ask myself that very question. I tried my best to reach her side before they marched her to the gallows, but the crowd was too strong. I could only watch as they forced the rope onto her neck.” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, which came back wet.
I frowned, angry at him, at myself, and at what we had lost. “Look at you now. What do you think Justine would say if she saw you in such a state? How could you let this happen to yourself?” The words came without thinking, born of emotion. I regretted them almost instantly. They seemed to stir something in Gerhardt, however, and he spoke before I could retract them.
“I thought that by enlisting I could outrun the past, but her memory was with me every day. I lost myself in the war, and still I felt the pain of her loss. There is blood on my hands, and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to erase my guilt. When I returned home, there was nothing left here for me to come back to.”
As I started to form a response, I noticed a figure watching us from a dark alley, and my blood ran cold. A hood concealed his features, and he kept to the shadows, but I knew him by his size right away. It was the creature. He had found me at last, if he had ever lost sight of me at all.
I glanced back at Gerhardt, who hadn’t noticed, and my mouth folded into a deepening frown. I was putting Gerhardt in danger merely by being in his presence. If the creature had murdered William simply for being Victor’s brother, what might he do to the man Justine once loved?
“I have to go,” I said before Gerhardt could reply, and I darted toward the alley in pursuit of the creature. Gerhardt’s protests faded behind me as I reached the entrance, where I caught a glimpse of the creature disappearing around the bend. “Show yourself,” I shouted, but there was no answer. I followed the alley to the end, where it became a twisting labyrinth of narrow passages and dark corners until at last I re-emerged onto the street, facing the crowd.
The creature was gone.
When the carriage arrived outside my window, I appraised my reflection one last time in the shattered mirror before leaving my room. Every head turned toward me as I descended the staircase, and the hall below fell momentarily silent. I wore a sweeping white dress neatly decorated with elegant lace. A black cloak was wrapped around my shoulders, falling the length of my back. I suppressed a smile as I made my way through the inn, my costume having achieved its desired effect.
Outside, the warmth had died on the wind with night’s approach. I took a moment to glance at the looming castle before boarding the carriage Elizabeth had sent for me. The coachman’s whip cracked loudly as it fell through the air. The horses’ hooves struck the pavement, the wheels began to turn, and the carriage was
jostled about over the cobblestone road. I glanced out the window as Geneva went by. The city appeared emptied, with only a few lingering proprietors or laborers preparing to return home for the evening. The roads were largely quiet, though a few carriages and horsemen passed us in the other direction.
Geneva shrank behind me as the carriage veered onto a well-trodden path leading outside the city. The winding dirt road turned upward, carrying us through hills surrounded by forest. The mountains remained visible behind me, casting growing shadows over the lake in the receding sunlight. The breeze grew colder still, howling over the treetops, where the castle towered through the gaps between the branches—awaiting my return.
I peered past the neighboring trees, into the shade, and wondered if the creature was watching me from the forest’s depths. The thought of his haunted, vile features glowing in the firelight the last time we met made me cringe. Though he hadn’t revealed himself yet, it was only a matter of time. He had already sworn terrible vengeance on Victor for granting him his wretched existence; I was certain that promise of retribution would now extend to me. The sudden appearance of Frankenstein’s monster would complicate my plans, but perhaps there was a way to use his hatred of our mutual creator for my purposes.
The carriage emerged from the forest where the crooked road straightened, following the path along an open field that ended at the castle. As the carriage pulled to a stop, I put the creature out of my mind and steeled my emotions. When the coachman opened the door for me, I confidently made my way up the staircase to the gate, where a footman was waiting for me.
“Penny Moritz?” he asked. I nodded, and he motioned for me to enter the castle. “We’ve been expecting you.”
I followed him inside, down the same corridor through which I had passed only days ago when it was cold and dark. Now the way was brightly lit, and I was an invited guest rather than a silent intruder. Even so, a gloom seemed to hang over the halls, which seemed so different from the way Justine remembered them. It was clear the deaths of Caroline and William Frankenstein had left a mark on the household. The servants seemed quiet and dispirited, and the halls themselves appeared empty and vacant.
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