Camille

by Tess Oliver

  “Invincible! Ha! Is that what you think? It would only take one silver tipped bullet and you’d be in the ground next to the fish cart man.”

  “Not if you don’t shoot me.”

  “You don’t understand, do you? You’ll have no control over your actions when this takes over. We will find you.”

  “Even if you were to find me,” he stared at me with those brown eyes that could convince me of anything, “I don’t think you could kill me.”

  I kicked the bottom of his shoes. “You’re a pigheaded fool. I can’t believe I fell in love…”

  He dropped his hands and sat forward. That cocky half-smile turned up one side of his lips. “So you love me, Camille?”

  “No. The Strider I loved was an image I conjured up in my imagination.” I turned to leave, stopped, and twisted back to him. I blinked to hold back tears. I had no intentions of crying in front of him. I scanned the area with a crinkled nose. “You’re right, Nathaniel. This is where you belong.” His face tightened at my hurtful words. “I don’t know where I ever got the notion that you didn’t.” I turned and my throat tightened around my breath. Walk away. It is done. But I knew I was leaving my heart and soul back on that filthy stoop.

  Dizzy with heartbreak, I walked away. A yell came from the end of the street. A cab with two startled horses careened wildly in my direction. The panicked driver screamed at people to get out of the way. Pedestrians jumped out of the road like foxes darting out of the path of hunting dogs. It was during that moment of chaos that an idea flew into my head, it was an idea that if it ended the way I hoped, all would be well again, and if it failed, I would be dead. There was no time to analyze or talk myself out of it. The runaway cab neared. I could only hope that it would all be over quickly.

  Snorts and hooves were the last things I heard and saw as I closed my eyes and stepped into the path of the frightened animals. I waited to feel the pain of a horrible bone shattering death, but instead, a body slammed against mine, and I was carried out of the road. The horses clattered by, and I opened my eyes to make sure I was still alive.

  Strider grabbed my arms and held me at arm’s length. The cloudiness in his eyes had vanished. “What were you thinking?”

  I smiled up at him. “I was thinking I wonder if his reactions will be slowed by the gin.”

  He pressed me against his chest. I could hear his heart pounding. “Believe me, Camille, I’m more sober now than I was at birth.”

  I could hear a crowd of people gathering around us. “Is she alright? Did you see the lad move? Never seen anything like it.”

  Strider grabbed my hand and pulled me around the corner out of the view of the onlookers. He pressed me up against the wall and held my arms as if he was afraid that I might try something ridiculous again. But I had no intentions of pulling away from him.

  “Christ, Camille, you could have died.”

  I shook my head. “No, I trusted you to save me.”

  He squeezed me harder. “You’re such a peculiar girl. If you wanted my attention, why didn’t you just kiss me? It would have been far less dangerous.”

  I peered up at him. “Believe me; your kisses have plenty of danger behind them.”

  “Yes, but certain dangers are better than others.” He leaned his face down to mine and kissed me so hard I had to hold on to his shirt to keep from falling.

  “John,” I called from the entry. The cat raced by us yowling and swiping its claws through the air. Strider stepped behind me out of Dutch’s reach. “I’m home and I’ve brought a visitor.”

  Dr. Bennett came around the corner with a less than enthusiastic expression on his face.

  “What is it?” I asked reaching behind for Strider’s hand. He grasped my fingers tightly.

  “I’m afraid it’s as I expected. There was still enough silver in the man’s blood to be poisonous. The cells reverted back to normal then collapsed.” Strider’s hand squeezed down harder on my fingers and I winced.

  “Are you sure it was the silver? Perhaps another variable contaminated the sample.”

  “I was very careful, I assure you. I’m afraid it won’t work.”

  I turned to Strider. Three days on the streets had taken their toll. He looked tired and hungry. “Not to worry. I have another plan,” I said and pulled him in the direction of the kitchen. “You need food and sleep, and I’ll tell you both about it later.”

  ****

  I picked up a quill from the desk in the lab and knelt next to the cot where Strider slept. Purposely, I brushed the end of the feather across the tip of his nose. With eyes still closed, he crinkled his nose and swiped at it with his hand. I brushed his nose once more. He moaned and turned on his side. Dr. Bennett walked in.

  “Cami, let the lad sleep.”

  “He’s been sleeping for six hours,” I complained. “I’ll have to feed him again when he wakes.” I touched the curl of hair turned up on the collar of his shirt.

  “Tis the transmutation, I’m afraid. I remember the summer of my fifteenth year. I grew three inches in three weeks. All I wanted to do was sleep. His body is going through some massive changes as it prepares.” Dr. Bennett offered me his hand. I accepted reluctantly and followed him to the marmalade room.

  My father’s journal lay open on the table. He quickly shut it and slid it under his arm as he sat. “I’m afraid none of this has worked out the way I’d hoped.”

  I sat across from him, plunked my elbows on the table, and rested my chin on my palms. “It seems to me this has turned out exactly as I had predicted.”

  He nodded. “We face a dreadful situation, and I take the blame completely.”

  “I agree you are completely to blame, but it will not be dreadful because we will not destroy Nathaniel.”

  “Camille,” his voice cracked, “there is nothing else to be done.”

  “I must always hear you out, John, and now you’ll listen to me.” A momentary flash of anger crossed his expression. I lifted my head from my hands. “When Strider and I visited the animals in Regent’s Park an idea popped into my head. Containment. We will contain him somewhere safe, where he can cause no harm to others. Just like the wolves in the park.”

  “Strider will be much stronger than a mere wolf or lion. It would take a place much more secure than a cage or locked door.”

  “I know of such a place, and I’ll take him there when the time comes.”

  “It’s too dangerous, Camille. I will not allow it.”

  “Whether you allow it or not, I’ll take him.”

  He slouched back, something he rarely did. There was profound sadness his expression.

  I stood and circled behind him and put my hand on his shoulder. He reached up and covered my hand with his. “John, you can’t imagine what it’s like to love someone so completely and face losing them.”

  He dropped his hand and his shoulders drooped even further. “You’re wrong, Cami. I do know how it feels.”

  I walked to the settee and sat down next to Dutch who slept there curled in a tight ball. The cat lifted its head before tucking it back beneath its tail. “Father’s heart was broken. Not yours.” My voice wavered.

  He paused for a long moment before speaking. “I met and fell in love with your mother long before your father knew her. I had studied in France for several years. Her father, your late grandfather, was my mentor. She followed me back to England. Just as she arrived, I’d received an invitation to study in Africa for a year. It was the chance of a lifetime.” He slid the journal onto the table, walked to the settee, and sat down. “It was my fault really. I left without any commitment of marriage. I did not think it right. A year was such a long time, and Africa had many dangers.”

  I stared at the side of his face and wondered if my mother had always loved him more. How strange it must have been to love and be loved by two men at the same time.

  “After ten months, your father wrote to tell me they were to be married in a month’s time.” His throat bobbed up and do
wn as he swallowed hard. “So you see, Camille, I do know something of heartache.”

  “But you were never faced with killing the one you loved.”

  He rested his elbow on the arm of the settee and lowered his face to his hand. “My God, Cami. What have I done?’

  “It’ll be fine,” I said and pushed up from the seat. “I’m going to see if he’s awake.” My mood was growing darker by the moment, and, suddenly, I realized the only thing that would save me from a terrible melancholy was Nathaniel Strider.

  I knocked lightly on the door to the lab.

  “Aye, come in.” His voice was hoarse from sleep.

  The door creaked open and I peered around it. He sat up slowly, wearing only trousers. Several pale scars crossed his smooth broad chest. He scrubbed his hair with his hand. “My ‘ead feels ready to pop off.”

  “Some warm food’ll bring you around.” I stepped back to leave.

  “Camille, wait. Sit ‘ere with me for awhile.” His tone was somber.

  I hesitated before treading lightly across the floor and lowering my bottom onto the cot. He smelled faintly of gin, and warmth, and heaven. He leaned his back against the wall and I followed. His hand covered mine.

  “You are the craziest chit I’ve ever met. Why did you step in front of that carriage, Camille? You might have died.”

  I shook my head. “I was trying to prove something.”

  “Prove what? That you truly are crazy or that dying isn’t that bad?”

  I turned my hand around and laced my fingers through his. He squeezed them tightly.

  I leaned my head on his solid shoulder. “I needed to prove to myself that you cared for me just a little.”

  He rubbed his chin on the top of my head. “How could you not already know that?”

  I squirmed out from under his chin, released my hand, and stood in front of him. “How? Let me think. The moment you had the chance you ran back to your former haunt, to your former life, to your former acquaintances.”

  He stared at me for a long time then dropped his gaze to his lap. “Tis not so easy to leave it all behind, Camille. That former life is all I’ve known for the last eight years.” His black lashes fluttered up and he swallowed before looking at me. “Then I saw you, frail and perfect, standing in front of that carriage and everything around me blurred. All I could see was you.” His voice cracked and I had to hold myself together.

  “I’ll fix you something to eat.” My words were barely audible. He had said all the things I wanted to hear, but now my limbs, my head, my heart felt leaden.

  I turned to leave and suddenly he stood in front of me. His speed and reflexes were incredible, not human. His chest heaved as his hands grabbed my waist and pulled me against him. His mouth covered mine. The kiss was rough and bittersweet. I didn’t want it to end.

  Chapter 20

  The stillness in the house made my feather-light steps in the hall sound like elephant stomps. After a meal of potatoes and beef and several games of cards, Strider had gone back to bed, this time in the guest room. Dr. Bennett had been asleep for several hours, and I knew that once the man slept, it took a great deal to wake him. He had slept very little these past weeks, and I was confident his fatigue would send him into a deep slumber.

  Dutch rubbed between my legs. I stumbled forward but managed to keep the candle in my hand upright. “Blasted cat.” I opened the door to the lab and walked inside. Dr. Bennett’s notes were stacked in a disheveled pile under the shelf of prepared slides. I shuffled through them squinting in the dim light deciphering his scrawls. Most of the letters and numbers were meaningless to me, but I knew what the formula for chloral hydrate looked like.

  “What are you up to girl?” A deep voice penetrated the quiet and I jumped up, this time knocking over the candle. Astonishingly, it stayed lit.

  “Nathaniel, you about scared me witless. I thought you were sleeping.”

  In the shadows I could see him, dressed only in trousers, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Are you not well?” I asked.

  “Aye. Well enough. Everything hurts though.” He came closer. I gripped the edge of the counter to keep myself from running my fingers over the scarred skin on his chest. “I suppose it’s to be expected,” he said quietly. Sadness seemed to radiate from every inch of him.

  To hell with propriety, I released my grip on the counter and pressed my palms against his chest. His heart pounded beneath his warm skin. I ran my fingertip along the ridge of a scar. “I wish I knew you then. Back when you had to live through all this.” My finger traced another scar and his breathing grew louder. “I would’ve taken care of you to make sure it didn’t hurt too much.” I pressed my lips against the scar and he sucked in a breath.

  He placed his hand on my cheek. “Camille, I’m scared.”

  I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my face to his shoulder. “Don’t be. I have a plan.” My words sounded less than reassuring punctuated as they were with my sobs.

  His arms curled around my back, and he squeezed me tightly. “I won’t put you in danger, and I won’t go like a coward,” he whispered against my hair.

  “You are not going anywhere, Nathaniel Strider. Not without me.” I released my hold on him, wiped the tears from my face, and returned to the notes. Bleary eyes made the task more difficult.

  He peered over my shoulder. “What are you searching for?”

  “Remember the day Dr. Bennett took blood from your arm?” I continued to shuffle through the pile.

  “Actually, no. I slept through it as I recall.”

  “Precisely. Ah ha! I found it.” I waved the crumpled paper in the air. “That day, John gave you some chloral hydrate to make you sleep. I needed to find his calculations showing the amount he gave you. Too much could be harmful, too little ineffective.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t actually think I’ll be able to sleep through this?”

  “It’s not for you. It’s for John.”

  ****

  “Have you had your coffee, John?” I peered in from the doorway.

  He looked up from his books. “I thought you’d sleep all morning. Strider is not awake yet.”

  “I didn’t sleep well,” I said. “I’ll make breakfast.”

  “Camille, I need to talk to you first.” He closed the book in front of him. It was Father’s journal. “Please, sit here with me.”

  Hesitantly, I walked over and sat down. My mind was completely occupied with saving Strider, and I was in no mood to discuss his indiscretions. “John, couldn’t this wait until after…” I had no idea how to finish my statement. There were too many possible scenarios.

  “Actually, this concerns the lad. I found something in the journal that caught my interest. It runs along the same theoretical line as your immunity idea.”

  “But my idea failed.” I slumped back in the chair. “Along with every other idea.”

  He leaned forward and he had that look in his eyes that made me always think of a clock with the gears grinding away behind the face. “Camille, I know you don’t like to dredge up the memory of that dreadful night of your father’s death, but I need you to recount some of the details.”

  I stared at him in shock. He knew well that I’d rather speak about anything than that night. “Truly, John, I don’t think I can bear talking about it with you at this time.” I kept my tone calm extinguishing the sparks of anger before they surfaced.

  “But it may help us find our next path,” he insisted.

  “There are only two days left. How can it possibly help now?”

  “I realize time is short for Strider, but for the next time…”

  “Time is not short for Strider! He—we will get through this, then you may start your theorizing again.”

  He reached for my hand, but I snapped it away quickly. The anguish of my small motion dragged on his face. “That night,” he forged ahead unimpeded by my rudeness, “your arm was injured. I was sure you’d been bit, yet nothing ev
er came of it.” He leaned his face closer to mine. “Camille, I know it is difficult but think back to that moment. Did the beast leave the marks on your arm?”

  “The beast? You mean my father?” That was the whole problem with this situation. Somehow we’d managed to convince ourselves that beneath the monstrous exterior there existed only murderous evil. And while believing that had certainly made our hunts easier to swallow, it wasn’t true. I stared at him. “We’re hunting human prey. No matter what form, there is still a human soul within.”

  Dr. Bennett stood abruptly, his face coloring red. “And what of the human lives they devour?” He leaned far over the table and grabbed my hand too quickly for me to snatch it away. “Camille,” he pierced me with his gaze, “you’ve seen what is left of the innocent people who were unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place under a full moon. Strider was very nearly one of them.”

  He released my hand, and I pulled it back into my lap. A phantom pain shot through my arm as the memory surfaced. “The darkness that night suffocated my senses, but I remember sitting in the center of the kitchen floor with my doll clutched against me. The gun had frozen to my fingers. An odor seeped down the stairs, making my eyes water. A horrid roar slammed against the walls of the room, but I couldn’t move. Father had lied. I was not the strong one.”

  Dr. Bennett sat back down. “Were you bitten?”

  I brought my feet up onto the chair and hugged my knees to my chest in an attempt to hold myself together. “I was in his jaws, my father’s jaws, when the pistol exploded.”

  His eyes widened with interest rather than shock. There was nothing shocking anymore in our bizarre life it seemed. “And, afterward,” he blurted, “what happened between you and your sister while you waited? When did Emily cut your arm?”