by L G Rollins
“They’re killed, and with extreme prejudice,” Lenton said. “If a woman is found to be a werewolf, there is nothing that can save her.” His hands were wrapped around the bars of his cell, his knuckles ghostly white. “No matter what a brother may try to do.”
The breath inside Elise froze in place, as though she’d swallowed several pounds of ice. She viewed Lenton with new eyes. He’d had a sister. One who turned werewolf just has he had. Though Elise did not know more of the story than that, she ached for him—for his agony and guilt buried deep inside.
Standing, Elise placed a hand atop one of Lenton’s. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
He shook his head, still not willing to meet her gaze. Then he glanced back at Pearl. “Her family will be waiting at the harbor when we pull in, most likely. Apparently, your willingness to pay was enough to spare her for a time. Nonetheless, she will return still a werewolf. We all will.” He shook his head.
No, Elise wasn’t about to let that happen to Pearl. “We’ll be together when we dock. I’m sure no one wants to see her hurt.” Even as she said it, ‘hurt’ sounded like a pitiful word compared to what would actually happen to Pearl. “I’ll talk to the captain. We’ll assign several men to be beside her at all times. There’s no chance her family could get past all of us.”
“Then what? You can’t assign men to guard her for life.”
“We’ll think of something. We’ll—”
“No.” His soft word bit through her objections. “This isn’t your problem.” His hands slowly released the cell bars. “You focus on your experiment. She’s our family now.” It was clear by the way he spoke, he was referring once more to the werewolf test subjects around them. His eyes finally met hers once more. When he spoke, each word came out low but decisive, a determined declaration. “We take care of our own.”
Lenton turned fully and moved toward the back wall of his cell.
Elise stood at the bars, one hand against them to support her. Oh Pearl. She couldn’t allow anything to happen to the young woman. The glow of the gas lamp above her table blurred into gold and auburn splotches as tears burned against her eyes. She shut them tight, wishing the room would dissolve around her and leave her to what she had learned.
Elise sat heavily. Lenton’s voice brushed against her ears from the other side of his cell. He spoke cheerful with another test subject, as though nothing was bothering him. For once in her life, Elise couldn’t fake happiness.
She covered half her face with a hand. Her cheek was wet. How could people be so dreadful? So horrible? To kill a woman, simply because she was a werewolf, while men were left to live . . . she couldn’t pull breath back into her frozen lungs. She imagined face after face of women who had been murdered. Her stomach churned again.
“Elise?”
She jumped in her chair, and spun toward the voice. Nathaniel leaned against her table, his face creased with concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in a low voice.
She brushed at the tears on her cheeks, but more flowed down directly after them. She was well practiced at pushing her emotions deep down and putting on a carefree expression. But she couldn’t this time. Truth was, she didn’t want to. She wanted to grab hold of his shirt in both hands, bury her face in his chest, and cry. Hard.
His fingers wrapped gently around her elbow. “How about we take a walk up to the dining hall. No one’s up there this time of night.”
All she could manage was a nod. She stood without looking behind her, or letting Lord Chauncey know where he could find her if something turned wrong with the experiment. A small part of her brainbox recognized it was terribly unprofessional to leave the cargo hold at such a pivotal point in her experiment. However, it wasn’t as though she could act as a proficient head scientist at the moment.
It was probably wrong, but she simply had to get away. And Nathaniel was always so understanding and easy to talk to. She needed a moment with him. So, she and Nathaniel climbed, without a word, up ladders to the fourth level.
The dining hall was blessedly empty as Nathaniel had predicted. His hand against her lower back felt warm. Once they were standing to the side of the room, where anyone casually passing the doorway wouldn’t be able to see them, Nathaniel drew her fully into his arms.
Her cheek pressed against the coarse fabric of his dark blue jacket. Elise kept her arms wrapped around her own middle—she might literally crumble otherwise. In a halting, sob-ridden voice she explained to Nathaniel. She told him everything, not just what she learned from Lenton, but how much knowing made her heart shutter and her lungs refuse to breathe. His arms tightened around her as she spoke, his head resting atop hers.
What had she been thinking? Believing she could make a difference. Dreaming of changing the way werewolves were treated. Creating a better life for others.
And why? Because she thought herself smart. Because her experiments were new and imaginative. The mockery of her own thoughts brought a sharp sting, as though she’d been jabbed with hundreds of small needles.
“I don’t think I’m doing any good here,” she whispered. He didn’t interrupt but let her speak. “What good is all this if, in the end, all the werewolves return to life as it was? Lenton and Antsy and the others will still have to hide every full moon, and work themselves to the bone proving they’re worth not killing. Pearl . . .” Her voice broke. Nathaniel’s hands rubbed her back up and down, ever so gently.
“Pearl may not live to see the next full moon.” Elise’s face scrunched against the hurt. Hot tears rolled down, following the salty path of previous ones.
She pushed away from Nathaniel—what had ever made her think she could change the lives of others? “It’s not as if they can afford to pay a submarine to take them down this deep again. I’ve saved them one full moon worth of pain.” She shook a single finger, emphasizing the punitive nature of her best efforts. “What good is that?”
Nathaniel took her hand in his. “It’s three nights without worry or agony.”
“Three out of hundreds.” What did a few nights matter when the test subjects would have to face so many more after returning home?
For, all of them would.
Except Pearl.
“It’s a start,” Nathaniel said. “No, you haven’t found a way to revolutionize the world—yet. But you’ve done more than anyone before you. Don’t negate all you have accomplished simply because you haven’t accomplished all you’ve dreamed.”
His tone, sincere and strong, set the ice in her chest thawing.
“I told you about the wondrous sights and people I have met the world over,” Nathaniel said, stroking a stray strand of hair back into her coiffure. “Well, there are awful, terrible people the world over, too. We all of us have to confront the evilness of others at some time of our lives or another. We’re left with a choice: join them, ignore them, or fight them.” He cupped her face in his hands, bringing her gaze up to his.
Such brilliant blue eyes.
“Long ago, you chose to fight,” he continued. “Don’t let the knowledge of just how evil others can be change your decision to fight now.”
She pulled in a deep breath, the first real breath since talking with Lenton. She still ached inside, but Nathaniel was right. She couldn’t let this stop her—instead, she would let it propel her forward.
“Life is an adventure worth valuing,” Elise repeated her mantra, then added, “I guess I have my work cut out for me.”
Nathaniel let out a small chuckle, his thumb rubbing away what was left of her tears. “Don’t put the weight of saving the world on your shoulders alone. There are many of us who’d love to help.”
The touch eased the sorrow inside, just as she knew it would. His arms encircled her once more, and the feel of his body pressed fully against her finished the thaw. The world was horrible, but also wonderful. The concept wasn’t new, but she saw both sides more clearly now than she ever had before.
“I won’t stop.” She sa
id it as much to herself as to him, to reaffirm she wasn’t going to turn tail now. “I’ll keep working until I do make a real difference.”
“I know.” When Nathaniel spoke, he was so close that his voice, though a whisper, rumbled against her. “But, for tonight, please just stay here.”
lise twisted the key and the lock on Pearl’s door popped open. The young woman slipped from her cell with a small smile. Lenton didn’t wait for her to move down the walkway between the rows of cells. He rushed over to her, swooped her into his arms, and spun her around, laughing.
Lenton slowed and called out over his shoulder. “Doctor Sterling, you have done more to save us than reading the ol’ bible ever did!”
“Careful there,” Lord Chauncey replied from the other side of the room. “There’ll be no blaspheming in front of the lady. Or she may decide her next experiment best be held inside a church, just to teach the lot of you. I don’t know how you feel, but my old bones don’t get along well with those hard pews.”
Everyone laughed, filling the packed cargo hold with a cheerful cacophony. Life on a submarine had never provided Elise with much space, but now the room was fuller than ever. Elise could barely move half a step without bumping shoulders with either a test subject or a crewmember. All of whom wanted to shake her hand, slap her on the back, or pontificate on their ecstasy that her experiment was a success.
When Elise had unlocked William’s room moments ago, he’d only grunted his response and a small part of Elise had worried all her test subjects would respond in kind. However, her worries, on this point, had been unjustified. Lenton, finally releasing Pearl, congratulated Elise with a large hug of her own.
“Thank you,” Elise said. “For being willing to do this with me.”
He shrugged and pulled away, his face scarlet. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
Light, trilling notes broke through the room. One of the crew had a fiddle pressed to his shoulder, the bow jumping from string to string. Instantly the group flowed as one toward the walls, leaving the center open.
Elise leaned against the ladder. Several couples moved to the middle and began twirling around. Even Melissa’s maid, Mary, danced with a young seaman.
Would Nathaniel join her soon? He’d said he needed to see to something in the dining room. Soon thereafter, Cook had come down the ladder. It was kind to allow all of his crew to join in the festivities. However, she wouldn’t be put out if he came down here as well and, perchance, asked her to dance.
Dancing had never been her forte. Never had been something she’d sought out before now. But with the exuberance of the room pulsing through her, she felt she could do anything.
Dance. Sing. Change the world even.
This would be a foundation on which she could build years of research upon. Not only did she have several follow-up experiments brewing in her brainbox regarding moonlight and werewolves, but now she also knew she had to investigate copper.
How would one best measure the effect of moonlight on copper? Would a tincture, similar in nature to her BLU Elixir, be the best substance to test? And what should she look for? The alkaline level? Or the molecular structure?
There was just so much to do once they arrived home. Of a certain, the committee would not end their support now. A blue glow illuminated the floor hatch which lead to the level below. Elise watched as it pulsed slowly stronger. She probably ought to feel concerned at the very least that the ghost had returned. Perhaps their old pirate captain had changed his mind and decided to pulverize their submarine after all. Or perhaps he was not one to turn down a celebration. Either way, Elise was feeling far too unstoppable for even the ghost to dampen her mood.
Elise slipped down into the observation room. It was colder down here. It was also much more quiet. The ghost stood near the glass wall, arms crossed against his chest.
*****
Nathaniel wiped down the counter yet again, then folded the rag and placed it near the sink where Cook normally kept it.
The music from below called, inviting him to join in. He would. He would climb down in a minute. Nathaniel rested a hip against the clean counter. If only straightening out the thoughts jumbling around in his head was as easy as straightening up the kitchen.
Something changed in him last night. Holding Elise as she cried, he’d realized he never wanted to tell her good-bye. Nathaniel turned around and undid the latch holding two cabinet doors shut. He shuffled the small canisters of spices around. They were low on oregano—Cook did tend to use a lot of that one. He’d have to be sure to purchase more before they set sail again.
But, when would that be? He’d always planned on resuming his several year break from sea the moment this expedition was over. Now, he wanted to stay on land more than ever. Now, he wanted to court Elise.
Far from minding, Melissa would be thrilled with the idea. His mother had mentioned repeatedly over the years that he ought to remarry. She may not care particularly for Doctor Sterling right now, but he felt sure she’d grow to love Elise given time.
Customarily, a man started by calling on a woman at her home—to talk weather and gossip, horses and fashion. Then would come the proper rides in Hyde Park. The posh dinner invitations with polite conversation. Being permitted to dance with the beautiful woman more than twice during a ball.
Nathaniel closed the cabinets and tied them closed once more. Propriety was a rather drawn out process.
Gads, he didn’t want to court her. He wanted to skip over that blasted bit and go right to marrying her. He wanted to see her every morning; discuss her day’s research every evening; he wanted to carry her into his bedchamber every night. She’d allowed him to comfort her only a few hours previous and the temptation to kiss her soundly had been almost more than he could bear. Would she have welcomed such an advancement?
“Where the blazes is that captain?”
Nathaniel turned toward the dining hall. What was it about this expedition and him being called out while seeking a quite moment in the kitchen?
Unlike last time, however, he recognized this caller. His jaw tightened. Elise had never told him what had happened between herself and Cunningham directly before the Kraken attack. But just hearing the man’s voice made an overwhelming protectiveness swell inside Nathaniel.
With arms crossed, he moved to the doorway between the kitchen and the dining hall.
“Are you looking for me, sir?” he said, voice taut. Cunningham was a childhood friend of Elise, and for that reason he had yet to discipline the man for the many small disagreements he’d been guilty of starting. But if Cunningham pushed the limits any further, Nathaniel was ready to throw him in one of the recently vacated jail cells.
Cunningham smiled, but the expression was feigned. His lips were tight around the edges and his eyes swirled dark. “There’s something in my chambers I was wanting to bring to your attention.”
In his chambers? No doubt the pompous man was displeased with having to pick up after himself. It was his own doing; he chose not to bring a man servant.
Cunningham bowed in fake respect, waving for Nathaniel to go first.
The man truly was as full of himself as Rowley purported. Nathaniel walked by him. The sooner he saw to whatever Cunningham wished to show him, the sooner he could join Elise in the cargo hold.
Cunningham moved up directly behind Nathaniel. His posture was tight. Intuition born of years of being thrown into sudden and dangerous situations pricked against Nathaniel’s stomach. Cuningham was not tight like a man upset, but like a puglist going into the ring.
Nathaniel crouched and Cunningham’s fist flew through the air where his head had been. Nathaniel’s hand jumped to his belt. He pulled out his gun even as he stood. The barrel of his gun pressed against the soft stomach of Cunningham.
“You will stand down, or spend the rest of the trip home in a cell.”
Cunningham lifted his hands in submission, but his smile only grew. “Oh, I’m not going to spend any
time in a cell. You can count on it.”
A thick arm wrapped around Nathaniel from behind, pressing tight against his throat. Nathaniel’s jaw dropped open and he tried to draw air in, but couldn’t. He grappled against the new assailant, but could not struggle free.
Cunningham grabbed hold of Nathaniel’s gun hand, bringing it down and across his raised knee. Still gasping for breath, Nathaniel dropped the gun. Cunningham picked it up and aimed it at Nathaniel’s chest.
He eyed Nathaniel, but spoke to the man behind him. “Alert the others; our time has come.”
tanding only paces away from the ghost, Elise’s heart began to race. Now she was alone with the ghost, her earlier vibrato seemed foolish. Though their last conversation was less violent than the one before that, there as no guarantee he didn’t mean her ill now.
“You’ll be pleased to know we will be leaving your waters soon,” Elise said. Perhaps that would ease any malice he felt toward her and their stay.
“I know,” he responded. His tone didn’t seem angry. “I hear congratulations are in order. The chaps upstairs are calling your experiment a roaring success.”
It was strange to learn, from a ghost no less, that others were speaking highly of her while she wasn’t around.
The ghost turned toward the glass wall, staring out at the black waters. “I never would’a killed you or the captain, you know.”
Elise raised an eyebrow. “So, what was the deal with those knives you were throwing? Hoping to give us a hair cut?”
He chuckled. “You’ve a mite bit of sass. I always liked that in a woman. My Hannah’s the same way.” He reached out a hand, which passed directly through the submarine glass wall. The blue light around him undulated, then extended out. Like a beam, it broke through the murky water.
Several fish, the ugliest Elise had ever seen, darted away. The light spread and she could see the ocean wall, not more than a couple hundred meters away. Resting among the rocks and fish was the enormous, oblong creature. The Kraken’s giant eye was shut tight and it’s tentacles swayed gently with the current. Gears above, Elise had no idea the Kraken could sneak up on them so wholly unnoticed.