The Touch of the Outcast_A Gothic Mystery Romance

by Amalia Altman

  “Take care of yourself, Elise,” he said. “I’ll be back to visit you tomorrow if you want company.”

  “Fuck you,” Elise hissed, her eyes stinging as Lord Bishop left, locking the door behind him. Elise got up and flew towards the door, ignoring her ankle, trying to get it open. It was locked fast and there was nothing that she could do about it. Elise growled in frustration, crossing to the window, looking outside to see that she was at least three stories up. The more she looked, the more hopelessly far away the ground seemed, and she knew better than to think that she would be able to land safely enough to run away.

  Elise sighed and climbed back into the bed, gazing out the window, her mind trying somehow to connect with Julian’s. The thought of losing him was somehow even worse even than the thought of being violated by Lord Bishop, though Elise had no intention of letting that happen. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she knew that she would rather die than let him rape her, and so she sat and waited for the inevitable, her body tense and sad.

  Chapter 29

  Julian rubbed his hand over his mouth, staring at the ceiling. He was lying in bed and seemed like he hadn’t moved for several days—to him, there was no reason to get out of bed. The house was empty, save for his evil uncle on the third floor, and Thomas, who came and went to feed his father without a word to Julian. Julian had nothing to say to the other man, nor to anybody else. Everybody he cared about was gone. And Elise—Elise he had driven away himself, used her and let her leave him without so much as a goodbye. Julian ached every time he thought of that, a rotting feeling in his gut.

  He got out of bed, not knowing what time of day it was, and made his way into the kitchen. It seemed it had been days since he had eaten and his stomach felt empty and was cramping, roiling in protest. Julian looked in the cupboards and pulled out an old loaf of bread that may have been baked when Nikola was alive. It was hard and stale, but Julian cut a chunk out of it anyway, carrying the piece of the loaf with him upstairs and back into his room. He heard a noise on the third floor, the scraping sound of a chair, and knew that Thomas was probably up there visiting with his father. Julian tore numbly at the stale bread with his teeth, listening as a voice above him raised.

  “When are you going to do it then?” asked the old man, Julian’s uncle, his voice high and shrill and angry. There was another voice in response, calm and even, measured. His uncle’s voice rose again but Julian couldn’t make out what the man was saying, only that Thomas was speaking to him patiently in response. Something about that got Julian’s attention. He sat up in bed and strained his ears, listening to the two men talk. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but there was something in Thomas’s tone that just wasn’t right.

  Julian got out of bed then, crossing the floor to his door and looking out into the hall. He made his way to the marble stairs that went to the third floor and climbed up them slowly, listening hard after each step.

  “I told you, I want to bring him there to watch her die first,” Thomas said. Julian’s blood ran cold in his veins. Those words were coherent and deliberate, nothing like the childlike simplicity of the usual way in which Thomas spoke. His voice was cold rather than innocent, and Julian shivered when he heard the man’s next words. “I think it’ll be better that way. Then, I’ll kill him, come back here, and we’re good.”

  Julian swallowed, shaking his head. He started back down the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him. Julian found himself running once he’d gotten down the stairs, flying through the door and out to the gardens. Elise’s words were running through his mind over and over, what she’d said about Thomas and what he’d done to those women, what he was capable of. Julian hadn’t believed her, simply hadn’t thought it possible that the man he’d believed to be simple had been capable of doing such a thing this whole time. Julian felt numb as he got to the gardening hut, trying the door to find that it was locked. He cursed, trying each of his keys. None of them worked. Frustrated, Julian kicked at the door once, then again before the wood splintered inward. He kicked it again, making a hole big enough for him to crawl through, and when he got inside he started searching through every room, finding any sign of Elise or that she’d been there. It was a small hut and there wasn’t much to search, but Julian still called out for her frantically as he looked in every corner.

  He turned around and almost ran face-first into Thomas, who was holding a knife out in front of him. Julian was barely able to dodge before Thomas lunged forward at him, laughing as he thrust the knife at Julian’s belly. The blade brushed Julian, tearing through his shirt before he was able to step back.

  “Where is she?” Julian asked through gritted teeth. “Where is Elise?”

  Thomas laughed. “I have her back to her rightful owner.”

  “What does that mean, Thomas?” Julian asked, impatient. “If she’s hurt—“

  “She’s not hurt. Not yet. At least—she’s not dead. I don’t know what he might have done to her.”

  “Who?” Julian demanded, taking a step toward Thomas despite the fact that the other man still held the knife in his hand. Julian wanted to throttle him, to rip his throat out.

  “You’ll find out,” Thomas said, circling around Julian with the knife. “I’m going to take you there tonight. But first there are some precautions that I have to take with you that I didn’t think to take with her.”

  “What are you talking about?” Julian asked, his eyes on the knife.

  “She tried to run. Almost got away, too. Jump right out of the carriage and took off through the trees. But I caught her before she could get away—she was slower than you are. I’m going to have to prevent you from being able to running altogether.”

  Julian stared at him, taking a step back. Thomas’s face broke into a grin as sweat dripped down his skin.

  “You killed all those women,” Julian said.

  “Yes,” said Thomas. “And I’m going to kill Elise, too.”

  “Did you try to have it pinned on me?” Julian asked him.

  Thomas nodded.

  “At first, I thought that was the best idea. Get you put away, and I’d be the only one left to inherit. But then I just realized it would be better and more thorough to kill you.”

  “So kill me,” Julian said. “Why drag it out?”

  “Because I want you to watch me cut Elise’s tits off with this knife first,” Thomas hissed. Julian lunged at him then, knocking the knife out of the man’s hands. They fell to the ground, Julian lifting his arm to shove his fist into Thomas’s cheek. He hit him hard once, then again, but didn’t manage to land a third time before Thomas rolled out from underneath him. The two men wrestled on the floor, Julian grabbing for the knife that had been kicked just out of reach. Julian struggled as Thomas’s hands wrapped around his neck. Julian kicked his leg up at the other man, kneeing him hard in the shin, forcinghim to let go. Julian’s hand scrambled for the knife, grabbing it, and he found that he’d plunged it into Thomas’s throat before he was able to stop himself. Julian froze, the blade in his hand as Thomas’s eyes went wide with shock and the life faded out of him. It was over as quickly as it had happened. Julian stared down at the body, rage filling his blood, propelling him upward to his feet. He kicked Thomas on the way out of the hut, spitting on the man’s body before he jogged back toward the estate.

  Julian was covered with blood as he made his way up to the third floor, slamming into his uncle’s room. There was a grin on his uncle’s face that quickly disappeared when the man saw Julian covered in blood, looking at him with rage in his eyes.

  “Thomas is dead,” Julian said in an even, blank voice. “You’re going to starve to death up here. It will be a very slow, painful death, and nobody will be around to hear you scream until you just don’t have the energy to scream anymore.”

  Julian watched in satisfaction as his uncle’s eyes widened in fear.

  “J—
Julian—“ the sad old man whimpered. “N—no. I’m your uncle. You have to take care of me.”

  Julian laughed, walking into his uncle’s room, kneeling down in front of his chair.

  “I don’t have to do anything for you,” Julian said. “But I might consider feeding you once a week if you tell me where Elise is right now.”

  The old man stared at him, a petrified look on his face. Julian wished then that his uncle had Elise’s powers, that if Julian touched him the old man would see every hateful, burning thought that was running through Julian’s mind. Instead, Julian sneered at him, taking the old man’s face in his hand.

  “Tell me,” Julian growled.

  His uncle started to sob dryly, too old and frail to produce real tears.

  “She’s with Lord Bishop,” the man said, his voice pathetic and small. “P—please, Julian.”

  Julian stood up, looking down at his uncle with disgust on his face.

  “You’re going to burn alive today, uncle,” Julian said, looking into the old man’s eyes for one last moment before he turned around and left him behind, whimpering in his chair. Julian went downstairs and into his room, where he pulled out an old jewelry box that his mother had kept before she died. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a ring, large and ornate, with a round ruby in the center surrounded by sparkling diamonds. Julian pulled it out and slipped it into his pocket, then went around and gathered all the lamps he could find around the house. He broke them where he found them, spreading the oil around, moving from room to room until he was finished. In the front room, he lit a fire in the fireplace, then lit a piece of wood and carried it around, igniting the oil. He tossed the log into one of the fires and hurried out of the house, jogging away from it as the whole thing went up in flames. Julian watched it out of the corner of his eye as he went to the gardening hut and burnt it down as well. Then he went to the stables, saddled up King, and started his way to Lord Bishop’s. He would ride through the night, ride to get to Elise no matter what it took, no matter what he had to do in order to save her.

  Chapter 30

  Elise froze in place, glancing at the door, crouching in position waiting for it to open. She wasn’t quite ready yet—Elise hadn’t been able to find anything like a weapon in her room, but she had managed to break off a small, unnoticeable part of the bed frame beneath the mattress. It wasn’t much, but she had been grinding the edges along the window-frame, trying to sharpen the wood into a spike. Elise wasn’t sure what she would do with the weapon once she was finished, only that there was no way she was going to get violated or touched without dying in the process of fighting to save herself.

  Elise strained her ears, listening for Lord Bishop’s heavy footsteps coming down the hall. She heard nothing, and after a moment she resumed her slow, quiet grinding, rubbing the broken piece of wood down into a point. While Elise worked the hours away in silence, she thought about Julian, wondering if he was okay. Thomas was going to kill him. It was all she could think about. Elise knew exactly what Thomas was capable of, how much he enjoyed killing his victims. Elise had no doubt that he would particularly relish killing Julian if given the chance, particularly given the fact that the man was so desperate to take over Julian’s title.

  Elise paused, wiping the sweat out of her eyes that had formed on her forehead from the repeated pressure of throwing her body into the grinding motion of the wood. She set the stake down on the floor, hidden beneath the bed, and crawled across the large mattress to where a glass of water sat on the table. Elise took a sip of it, praying that it wasn’t drugged or poisoned. She had so far managed to refuse all food and water, but after a few hours it had grown impossible not to drink. Elise could only hope that there hadn’t been something put in the water that might make her more pliable to Lord Bishop’s desires. She paid close attention to how she was feeling as she went back to making her weapon.

  Elise froze again when she heard the footsteps, undeniable this time, heavy and coming down the hall. She quickly hid her stake and straightened herself on the bed, holding her chin high as she looked toward the door. The lock turned and it opened to reveal a small girl on the other side, the one who had been tasked with bringing Elise her food and water.

  “Hello, my lady,” the girl said, giving Elise a small curtsy. “My lord said to tell you to be ready for his visit in an hour. He wants you to bathe and wear the dress he set aside for you this morning. I’ve run your bath already and it’s in your dressing room. Would you like my assistance getting in?”

  Elise swallowed, staring at the girl. She had tried to engage with the girl several times, even begging her to let Elise out once or twice. She had given up after the third time of getting nothing but blank stares in return.

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you,” Elise said, watching as the girl turned around and left her alone. There was a knot in her chest that was growing tighter by the second as Elise got up and stripped out of her clothing. She took a deep breath, looking at herself in the mirror. Lord Bishop had decided that he didn’t like the extra weight she had put on while she had been with Julian, and when she looked in the mirror, Elise saw that she could see her ribs through her skin. She looked weak and skinny, not at all like she had when she’d been glowing with Julian, radiant and happy. Elise shook her head and prepared for her bath, taking her stake with her. She kept it in her hand even while she washed herself with her free hand, then stood up and rinsed off, getting out to get dressed. She wrinkled up her nose when she saw the gown that had been laid out for her—it was bright, vivid pink, low-cut with fat pearls around the bodice. Elise put it on, refusing to look at herself in it, and sat on the edge of the bed with her chest pounding, holding the stake at her side.

  Elise waited listening. Her heart sped up when she heard the footsteps, but they stopped suddenly before they got to her door. She sat still, the jumped when she heard a loud scream outside, loud and obscene before it cut off in the middle. Elise wrapped her hand around the stake and prepared to launch herself at the door, but when it open, she froze in the mid-motion, dle of moving forward, dropping the stake from her hand. Julian stood there in the doorway, blood all over his shirt, his eyes meeting hers from across the room. Elise stared at him for a long moment.

  “Julian,” she said, wonder in her voice. He crossed the room to her then, lifting her into his arms, taking her mouth in a hot kiss that filled her body with love and desire. She saw herself in his mind, smiling and happy and warm, saw that he was fantasizing about her joy as he kissed her again and again.

  “Elise,” he said, burying his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Is he—is he dead? Lord Bishop?”

  “He’s dead. So is Thomas.”

  Elise stared at him, then nodded. Julian looked into her eyes, his face filled with sorrow and regret, love and remorse. She kissed him in response to the question on his face.

  “Let’s go,” she said softly, and he nodded, lifting her into his arms and carrying her outside to his horse.

  Epilogue

  Julian scrubbed himself in the tub, washing the blood off of his body. He could hear Elise in the bedroom as she got ready for bed. They had been forced to share a single room for the night and Elise had clearly not been happy, although Julian had been ecstatic at the idea of sharing a bed with her. The moment they’d gotten inside, she’d insisted that she was sleeping alone in the bed, and that if he wanted to he could sleep on the mantle by the fire for all she cared. Julian had to grin now that he was alone just thinking about that stubborn look on her face. Though it meant that she was angry at him, all that mattered to Julian right now that she was safe and herself. The fact that she was angry, that she wouldn’t even look at him, was very much in line with her character, something that made Julian’s heart race despite the fact that it didn’t exactly bode well for him.

  Julian didn’t linger in the tub, but got out as soon as he was finished, wrapping a towel around his body a
nd going into the bedroom. Elise was on the bed in her nightgown, a lacy thing that looked like it was hardly made of any fabric at all. Julian had to look her over in it, the way the rich plum fabric draped over her body, the way he could see her nipples poking through the thin lace. Elise saw him looking and glared at him, covering her chest with her arms.

  “Are you done?” she asked him.

  “Yes, Elise,” Julian said. He met her eye from across the room, holding her gaze. The way she looked at him was full of desire, her lips parted, eyes drinking in the sight of his half-naked form. He wanted to go to her, and yet he stood where he was, only looking at her instead.

  “Do you need something, my lord?” Elise asked.

  Julian grinned at her.

  “I do, yes,” he said softly. “I need you to get my clothes out for me, please, and lay them out on the bed.”

  Elise stared at him, raising an eyebrow.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, Elise. Take my clothes out for me.”

  “No,” she said defiantly. “No, I’m not your maid anymore.”

  “No?” Julian asked, taking a step toward her. “So you don’t have to follow my orders anymore?”

  “I never followed your orders in the first place,” Elise said, chewing on her lip as she watched him draw closer, gazing at him through her lashes.

  “You are right about that,” Julian said. He reached out slowly, touched her bottom lip with his finger. He was thinking about all of the ways he wanted to make everything up to her, all of the hours he wanted to spend making love and making it better. Elise closed her eyes, reading his thoughts as they passed through his mind, the most tender and loving images he could send her. She sighed and pulled away from him, staring up at his face. Her lip trembled as she met his eyes.

  “You didn’t believe me,” she said softly, her voice sad and distressed, shattered. “I told you about Thomas, you—“