“Bullshit. You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“Being angry doesn’t solve anything.”
“That’s not what I asked. I asked are you angry at me?”
The resentment was like a quick-growing weed. Its roots plunged deep into my heart. But I fought against it anyway. “I—it was years ago.”
“The truth, Claire.”
The weed burst into black blooms. “All right, yes. Of course I’m angry.”
“Then show me. Tell me what I did to you. Tell me how you feel about it. Stop holding back. Stop talking to me like a robot and be a flesh and blood person.” He gave the cage door a shake, his face fierce. “Be angry, dammit.”
I stared at him, and the weed in my heart shot out foul, stinking fruit that burst. For the first time since I’d been kidnapped, I let myself remember. On purpose. I stared at Dietrich and let the memories flood me. Fury, like bitter juice, flowed through me until my veins seemed to burn with acid.
I forced the mask on his face to become solid, until all I saw was Jensen Cornelius. My heart clenched with the force of my hatred for him. For what he’d done to me.
“You held me captive in a metal cage.” My voice was hard, my words cold and sharp. “At first, I refused to cooperate so you told me I couldn’t have any food. When I was too weak to protest anymore, you told me I was special. You told me I had a magical gift. You said if I cooperated with you, you would be my teacher and show me how to do amazing things.”
He swore.
The rage swelled in me. It gave me strength to continue my story. “You taught me that I could shift into other creatures. Other people. Then you forced me to become part of your show. Now it was me in the cage, as a lion or a monkey or whatever you thought would bring in the most money.” I took a step toward the lift, my hands clenched. “I was the one that was poked with sticks until I bled. I was the one that had to shift into whatever poor, deformed creature your cruel mind invented. Children screamed in terror when they saw me. People threw stones at me. And it hurt. And you just walked around talking and laughing with everyone like it was a tea party.”
His eyes burned into mine. “And what did I do if you refused to perform?”
“You know exactly what you did!” Now we were face to face. “You locked me into a cage that grew smaller at the turn of a crank. You turned the handle and the walls closed in. You threatened to crush me. ‘You know what to do,’ you always said. ‘Shift for me, Claire.’ And I always did. When I couldn’t curl in a tighter ball, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore, I always gave in.” My voice broke. Tears pressed at my eyes. I hated myself for being weak, for letting him win.
“No,” he commanded. “No tears. Not from you. You’re angry. Show me anger. Not tears.”
I slammed my hands on the door, on either side of his. I screamed in his face, “I’ll have tears if I bloody well want, bastard. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore! I decide.” I hit the bars again. “I choose.”
He didn’t flinch, just stared back at me, his eyes stony and hard, like jade. “What else did I do, Claire? I know there’s more.” He spoke softly, his words almost menacing.
I pulled back. My heart raced. I couldn’t speak this part out loud. I couldn’t say it. Too shameful. Too horrible.
His eyes narrowed. “Tell me. Hiding it gives it more power. Speak it. Destroy it.”
The more I stared at him, the more vivid the mask became. Deep, dark hatred boiled up in me. All the emotions I had shoved down year after year rose in me, and I thought I would explode from the force of it.
“You used me.” It was only barely louder than a whisper, but the words sliced like a sword. “I was a child, Jensen. And you forced me to shift into any sort of woman that you liked to imagine. You made me have sex with you. And if I showed any hint of refusing, you beat me and starved me until I obeyed you.”
His chest heaved as if he couldn’t get enough air. He sagged against the door of the lift, his face white against the bars. “Dear god.”
“I hope the only response you get from God is a long eternity in hell. You fucked away my childhood. You destroyed every crumb of innocence I ever had.” I was breathing hard too, but the words came faster and stronger. I felt the rage through my whole body, burning me up. Burning away the poison of his touch. “You told me my magic was special and wonderful. And then you made it something so ugly and dirty that it makes me sick to think of ever using it again. You took everything from me.”
Intense pain filled his face. Tears spilled over his eyes and ran down his cheeks. The mask slipped. I saw Dietrich’s face flicker behind it. The only men I had seen cry were the ones in the freak show after they’d been pelted with stones or horse manure, or if Jensen beat them. I’d never seen one cry in sorrow.
“No wonder you hate me,” he said hoarsely.
“I despise you. And I despise myself.”
“Why?”
I folded my arms across my body. My words came out small and soft. “Because sometimes what you did felt good. Sometimes you said I was pretty and gave me new dresses and ribbons for my hair. And so, sometimes, I did what you asked because I was grateful, and I wanted you to like me.”
He shuddered and bowed his head. His shoulders shook, and a strangled sort of noise told me he was weeping.
“Nadine searched for me for three years. She spent all her savings hiring investigators to look for me. Finally, she got word that a traveling carnival had a vicimorph child in it, and she made the connection. She came herself, with some investigators, to rescue me.”
He didn’t raise his head. “Then what?”
“She brought me back to the theater, but it took awhile for me to be able to handle being around people without panicking. I didn’t tell her everything, but I think she guessed a lot of it. She told me I shouldn’t feel ashamed for anything that happened. Even—even the times I liked you.” I drew a deep breath. “I lived in her suite for a few months. She helped me discover I could do technomancy, and she had tutors—all women—come to give me private lessons since I was terribly behind in my training. And then she gave me Thea for a roommate.”
He looked up at that, his face wet with tears. His eyes were shadowed with grief and horror.
But I didn’t feel sorry for him. “I hate you,” I hissed. “I have nightmares about you. Sometimes they’re about what you did to me. But other times, I dream of killing you. I dream of your blood running down my hands and hearing you choke on it as you die. And that makes me hate you even more. Because I’m not a violent person, and yet that’s how I feel about you.”
He shut his eyes, his face twisted in agony as real as if I had plunged a knife into his belly. “And now?”
A sense of power swept through me, like a icy, cleansing wind. “Now, I’m strong. I may still be afraid, but I’m going to live. And I’m going to be the best damned technomancer in the empire. Because you aren’t going to win. You stole a lot of things from me. But you don’t get to steal my life.”
He looked into my eyes, a sort of tender and broken strength in his gaze. “Then go. Leave me. Walk away. Live.”
The mask almost flickered again, but I held it in place in my mind. I stared at him hard, burning into my mind the image of the monster locked in the cage. He couldn’t hurt me anymore.
Something cool and alive and new broke open in my spirit. Freedom.
I turned away from the lift and walked past it, around the fly system pin rail with its loops of hemp ropes and sandbags. At the control panel on the wall, I pressed the lift button. I raised it halfway to its full height.
Then I grabbed the switch for the backstage lights and turned them off. I dimmed the houselights, too, until all that was left was the single downlight center stage. The ghost light.
Without looking back at the lift, I left the wings through the side door into the darkened house. I felt like I was floating once more. Only this time not in fear. Not to hide. I had caged the mons
ter. Maybe we would battle again someday, but this time—I had won. I would only be stronger if we met again. And someday, I’d destroy him entirely.
For now, my feet seemed to step on cushions of power and strength. They carried me to the door. I opened it, and walked through.
To freedom.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I found Thea and Raymond still waiting in the hall.
They’d been sitting on the floor, but they jumped to their feet when they saw me.
Thea started to run to me, but then she hesitated. “How are you?”
The power I’d felt moments earlier drained away. “Good. I am well. I feel better. Free.” A wave of exhaustion swept through me. I staggered, and Raymond grabbed me.
He lifted me in his arms. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Yes. I feel new. I’m just…so tired.”
Thea shouldered her bag and Raymond’s. “And no wonder, with what you’ve been through this evening. Ready to leave?”
“Please.”
I snuggled against Raymond. He carried me all the way to my room, even though boys weren’t supposed to be in that wing. Everyone was asleep, so no one knew. He helped Thea take off my boots because her hand was swollen and bruised from hitting Delphine. Then he kissed my forehead and said he’d see me in the morning. I barely was aware of Thea helping me take off my corset. Somehow, I put on my nightgown and crawled into bed.
I dreamed, and in my dreams I was fighting Jensen Cornelius with a sword on the Alchemy’s main stage. My rage gave me strength and speed. I disarmed him, sending his sword skittering across the stage. I shoved him to the ground and aimed my blade for his heart.
“Claire!” he pled. “Please.”
But I refused to show mercy. I plunged the sword into his heart. The blood welled up from the wound, soaking his shirt and spilling onto the stage.
“It…wasn’t me,” he rasped, blood bubbling from his lips.
The voice. It wasn’t Jensen’s. I dropped to my knees beside him and grabbed the skin of his face with both hands. It ripped away like paper. And that’s when I knew.
It had only been a mask.
I tore the rest of it away, strip by strip.
The face that I uncovered, the eyes that held the shadow of death belonged to Dietrich.
“I’m so sorry,” I cried. “I had to kill the monster.”
“I know,” he whispered. His eyes grew vacant. Empty.
I jolted awake, my heart pounding, my body damp with sweat. Dear god, I’d left Dietrich locked in the lift.
I checked the clock, its face luminescent in the dim light. Three in the morning. I stumbled out of bed and grabbed my dressing gown from the chair along the wall. I glanced at Thea. I must not have made much noise during the dream because she still slept.
I fumbled with my skirt which had been left in an uncharacteristic heap on the floor. I grabbed the padlock key from the pocket and slipped out the door.
The dim hall lights seemed bright to my eyes. But they soon adjusted, and I crept carefully through the deserted halls to the main stage. When I reached the wings on stage right, I hurried to the control panel on the wall and pressed the button to lower the lift.
It jolted and then glided to the floor. Dietrich grunted groggily.
I rushed around the pin rail to the front of the lift and peeked in. Dietrich was just struggling to sit up. He turned his head side to side, seeming disoriented. He’d discarded his waistcoat and looked as if he’d tried to wad it up into a pillow. His shirt was untucked and completely unbuttoned. His eyes looked puffy and bleary, and his hair was a spiky mess. The right side of his face was criss-crossed with red lines where he’d been leaning against the metal mesh of the lift.
He looked awful. And beautiful.
All the terrible things I’d said to him came rushing back. I’d made him sob. Tears flooded my own eyes, and my hands shook as I tried to unlock the padlock.
When I had it unlocked, I threw it on the floor along with the key and flung open the door. “I’m sorry!” I cried. “I’m so incredibly sorry.”
He stood and walked out of the lift, flexing legs that must have been very stiff after all those hours. He faced me, blinking.
I threw myself at him, choking on my sobs. I wrapped my arms around his waist. “It wasn’t you. You’re not him. You’re not.”
He held me close. “Shh. I’m fine. It’s all right.”
“I don’t hate you,” I said against his chest.
“I know.”
“I don’t want to kill you.”
“Of course not.” He sounded slightly amused.
I took a shuddering breath. “I made you cry.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I broke your heart.”
He stroked my hair. “Yes, you did.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.”
I pulled away to look up at him. “How can you say that?”
He pressed me to him again. “The things you told me needed to be said. Keeping them secret was destroying you. You needed to experience your feelings. I knew since my magic triggers your fear that I had to be the target for your anger. I needed to be Jensen Cornelius for you. At least for a little while.”
His tone was calm but thick with his own emotions.
“I know I hurt you,” I said. “Are you all right?”
He squeezed me tighter. “I will be. And mostly, I just hurt for what happened to you. I wish I could take it all away.”
That’s what he’d tried to do this evening, I realized. By becoming my target, he’d tried to shoulder my pain for me. Tears ran down my face at the knowledge.
“You did help, Dietrich,” I said around a couple of sniffles. “But I still feel uneasy about your magic.”
“I know.”
“The fear is better, but it’s still there. Do you think it will always be that way?”
He rubbed his hands in circles on my back. “I hope not.”
“Me too.” I smudged away the tears. “Thank you.”
“I’d do anything for you.” He whispered it against my hair.
I smiled. “Even letting Nadine scold you?”
He chuckled softly. “I’m sorry. I reacted to that very badly.”
“Not as badly as I did,” I said. But I didn’t say anything more. I’d have to tell him about the rumors I’d started, but I didn’t want to ruin this moment.
“Did you…” He cleared his throat. “Did you really kiss Carrew?”
He sounded shy. A tingle shot through me. “Yes.”
“I see.” He gently set me away from him.
I didn’t want to be set away. I didn’t want to be disloyal to Raymond, either, but this moment—I needed to be with Dietrich. “We’re not a couple. He is a good friend. It was one kiss. I’m not even sure what it means, except that it was a huge relief to me to know that I could enjoy it.”
His eyes swept over my face, uncertainty still shadowing his expression. I drew close to him again. “Don’t push me away. Please, Dietrich. I don’t have it all figured out yet, but I’m trying.”
I put my hands on his chest, and realized I was touching bare skin. I had been the whole time he’d held me. But now, I was suddenly aware of the heat and smoothness. Without thinking, I ran my hands along the muscled curves. His heart beat hard beneath my palm. I set my face against him and trailed my lips across his skin.
He inhaled sharply. He touched my jaw lightly. His fingers slid down my neck and curled into my hair. He brushed my shoulders, his thumb dipping lower to trace my collar bone.
His other hand settled on my waist. He cupped my hip, almost grabbing my ass. I was only too conscious that all I wore was a nightgown and thin dressing gown. The warmth of his hand burned through the flimsy layers.
I wanted him, even with his magic. I wanted his touch. I smoothed my hands over his hard shoulders, pushing back the open shirt.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I whispered. It was almost the truth this time.
A flame lit his gaze. But instead of leaning in, he stepped back.
I gave a soft cry of protest. He touched my mouth with his fingertips. Then he walked past me and through the wings, onto the stage. He stopped in the middle of the pool cast by the ghost light. He turned to me, and his skin seemed to glow under the light.
“Here,” he said. “No magic. No monsters.” He made a sweeping motion to the light. “Just a boy standing in the moonlight waiting for a beautiful girl.”
My heart pounded. I knew what he was asking me to do. One more step of trust. Set foot on the stage. For him.
“Come to me, cariad. Kiss me in the moonlight.” He sounded a little playful. But there was a tinge of sadness to it as well. He’d shared my pain for me, but now he was wounded too.
He waited—for his beautiful girl.
It hit me then. He’d said “beautiful.” He wasn’t ashamed or disgusted by my past. I’d told him everything, and he still wanted me.
I hadn’t been so beautiful the past twenty-four hours. I’d been anything but beautiful.
Well, that would just have to change. I deserved better. So did everyone else.
Especially him.
I would be that girl, the one who would join him in the moonlight.
I walked to the edge of the wings. His eyes never left mine. I took a step away from the shelter of the black curtains. My heart beat faster, but only because he was nearer. So I took another step. Still no panic. More steps, faster, closer together, until I closed the rest of the distance in a light run.
The light was warm on my head, more like the sun than the moon. It glowed on my skin, and for the first time, I felt truly magical—in a good way.
It was so silent, I could hear him breathing. His forest eyes drew me closer. I could smell the heat and salt of his skin. He bent his head, touching his lips to my face. He brushed feather-soft kisses down my cheek. His breath sent shivers speeding through me.
Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1) Page 23
