The Heartless City

by Andrea Berthot

  “Have you gone inside?”

  “No. I was thinking about it just now.”

  “Let’s try. I’ll go with you.”

  Elliot nodded, turned, and gripped the doorknob; it was unlocked. Slowly, he and Cam stepped inside the darkened room. Iris wasn’t there, but the chamber looked as it should, until the light from the hallway caught the gleam of glass on her carpet. The lamp from her nightstand was lying on its side against the floor.

  “Let’s go see Philomena,” Cam said, his fear compounding Elliot’s. “She knows better than anyone what’s happening in the palace.”

  As they walked to Philomena’s room, Elliot tried to calm himself with benign scenarios, but he couldn’t wipe Iris’s hardened face and treasonous words from his mind. What if she had been snooping where she shouldn’t and someone caught her? His heart began to race and his hands began to shake, and by the time they reached Philomena’s door, he was trembling.

  Cam knocked, and when Jennie opened the door, his face grew red, and Elliot’s fear was momentarily smothered by Cam’s shame. Jennie blushed as well, but she curtsied obediently.

  “Is―is Miss Blackwell here?” Cam asked.

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured, moving aside and dropping her gaze to the floor. “Miss Blackwell, Lord Branch and Mr. Morrissey are here to see you.”

  They stepped inside the sitting room, and Jennie closed the door behind them and melted against the wall like furniture as she’d been trained. Philomena emerged from her bedroom, dressed but still looking sleepy.

  “What do you two want so early?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

  “We were wondering if you’d seen Iris,” Elliot said. “We can’t find her.”

  “Andrew, too,” Cam added, unable to entirely conceal his anxiety.

  Philomena wrinkled her brow. “No. Not since last night.”

  “If I may, Miss Blackwell…”

  The three of them turned to look at Jennie. Her voice was hesitant, and her cheeks were deeply flushed, but she swallowed and went on. “I saw Miss Faye at midnight, climbing into a carriage.”

  Elliot’s lungs stilled. “Where was she going? Who was she with?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I only noticed at all because her dress caught my eye in the dark. It looked like there was a man with her, but I don’t know who it was.”

  The fear in Elliot’s chest spread through the room, and no one spoke.

  “Maybe it was Andrew,” Cam suggested after a moment, but the hope in his voice was unconvincing. “Maybe they’re together.”

  Philomena walked to the door. “I have an idea. Albert… well, he delivered something for Iris once. I’ll send him back to see if anyone there knows where she is.”

  “Cam and I can go to the stables,” Elliot said, following. “Maybe Milo or someone else there knows where the carriage went.”

  But just as the three of them reached the door, it suddenly opened before them, revealing the figure of Lady Blackwell, Philomena’s mother. At first, she looked startled to see two men unchaperoned in her daughter’s room, but once she realized that one of them was Cam, her insides melted. She dipped her head as excitement swelled in her breast and colored her cheeks.

  “Lord Branch,” she murmured. “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning, Lady Blackwell,” he replied, forcing a smile.

  “If you wouldn’t mind, sir, I need a moment to speak with my daughter alone.”

  Philomena’s eyes burned with her anger and frustration. “Mother,” she said through gritted teeth. “Can’t this wait until later?”

  “I’m sorry, my dear,” she replied with equal venom. “We must speak now. Jennie,” she barked. “Some tea.”

  Jennie slipped out, and Cam and Elliot turned to Philomena. She gave them a nod and look that said, Go ahead. I’ll find you later. With a bow to Lady Blackwell, the two of them hurried out the door.

  Cam and Elliot could have easily walked to Mansion House, but instead, they rode two horses Milo had fetched them from the stables. Fear had coursed through Elliot’s veins when Milo said Iris was there, but when he mentioned that armed guards had accompanied her carriage, panic overtook him, and he’d demanded that they ride. Cam had agreed, feeling nearly as worried as Elliot, but the closer they got to their destination, the more fear cooled his blood.

  The guards outside the mansion parted immediately for Cam, and he and Elliot walked inside without so much as a question. The building was dim and silent in the early morning light. They listened for sounds and voices as they crept through the corridors, but nothing reached their ears but the scrapes of their shoes against the floor.

  Eventually, they reached the spot where the Lord Mayor discovered Elliot stealing the book he’d given to Iris. Elliot stopped, looking down at the floor and remembering something. That day, before the Lord Mayor appeared, he’d thought he felt the presence of a Hyde somewhere in the building, even though he’d heard nothing and seen no evidence of a commotion. The feeling had seemed blocked off somehow, as if coming from beneath him…

  “Cam,” he whispered. “Do you remember the basement in this place?”

  He almost laughed. “Of course I do. It’s a bloody medieval dungeon.”

  Elliot nodded. Before becoming the residence of the Lord Mayor, Mansion House had been a court of law, complete with a jail.

  “Remember how we used to play down there when we were kids?” Cam asked. “Until that time I accidently locked you in one of the cells. I honestly thought your mother was going to murder me for that.”

  “I have a feeling…” Elliot murmured, looking off toward the stairs. “I know it’s strange, but I think we should go down there.”

  “If you say so. It’s not like there’s anything going on up here.”

  They crept to the staircase and carefully made their way down the ancient steps, which changed from wood to stone as they slunk deeper into the earth. Finally, the two of them reached the jail’s outer door, which was massive and made of solid oak, as Elliot remembered. Its rusty lock had been replaced by a new one made of iron, but when Elliot turned the knob, he found the entrance to be unlocked. As he pushed it open, Cam lit a match to light their way inside, but only seconds later, they discovered they didn’t need it. The formerly murky dungeon had been wired with electric lights, all of which were presently on and buzzing in the silence. Elliot’s lips parted as he looked out into the room, and Cam’s match slipped from his fingers and onto the concrete floor.

  Why had so much money and labor gone into a basement no one knew about, let alone used?

  After a moment, the two of them walked down the stairs that stretched before them, down to the room where eleven barred holding cells lined the wall. Elliot’s heart stopped as he glanced at the floors of the cells; some were covered in dark red stains he was sure hadn’t been there before. He opened his mouth to say something to Cam, but then a flash of terror nearly knocked him off his feet. Before he could even lift his head, he heard Cam’s strangled cry.

  “Andrew?”

  Elliot’s blood ran cold as he followed Cam’s gaze.

  Andrew was standing behind the bars of the final holding cell.

  Cam bolted down the corridor toward him, and Elliot followed, barely able to feel his own feet in the wake of Cam’s alarm. Andrew saw them coming, and for a moment, his face lit up, but once they reached his cell, he backed away against the wall, swallowed by fear that tripled the blinding terror in the room.

  “Andrew!” Cam shouted, his chest heaving. “What are you doing here?”

  “The Lord Mayor sent me to Mansion House during the ball,” Andrew said in a quavering voice. He was pale as death and still wearing his evening wear from the night before, though the seams of his coat were now torn at the shoulders, as if they’d been wrenched apart. “He said he had an errand for me to―No, Cambrian! Don’t do that!”

  Cam had begun to fiddle with the padlock on the door, and his eyes widened at Andrew’s violent protest
. “Why the hell not?”

  Andrew shook his head, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, and Elliot gripped the bars to withstand the sudden wave of pain.

  “I’m infected,” he finally choked through his anguish. “I’m a Hyde.”

  The blood drained from Cam’s face. “No. That’s impossible.”

  “I waited here for your father like he instructed me to do, but when he arrived, he struck me in the head with the butt of his gun.”

  Elliot looked at Andrew’s face. A knotted, purple, and slightly bloody bruise bulged at his temple.

  “I fell to the ground, seeing stars,” he continued. “And the next thing I knew the Lord Mayor was on top of me, holding me down. He shoved a tablet between my teeth and covered my nose and mouth. I thrashed against him, but it was no use―I couldn’t break free or breathe―and eventually my body gave in, and I swallowed against my will.” He paused, his voice breaking. “He locked me in this cell, and I transformed immediately. I’m not sure how long I stayed in that state, but eventually I changed back, and ever since then, I’ve felt this burn inside that won’t go away.”

  Cam sucked in a breath, his chest collapsing. “That doesn’t make sense!”

  “He’s been making the drug, Cambrian―he told me. For years, he’s been infecting people to keep up the Hyde population. He’s even been experimenting on Hydes right here in this basement.”

  Elliot’s throat closed. Iris was not only right―it was worse than she’d imagined.

  “But why would he do that?” Cam cried. “And why would he infect you?”

  Andrew glanced at Elliot, and then slowly turned back to Cam, his fracturing heart slicing his chest like glass. “Because he knows.”

  Any blood that was left in Cam’s ashen face completely dissolved. He stared at Andrew, his eyes like a trapped animal’s. “He knows what?”

  “Everything.”

  The three of them spun around to see the Lord Mayor on the stairs, strolling down to the basement’s lowest level, holding a gun.

  “I’d feel much more comfortable if you would disarm yourselves,” he said, as calmly as if he’d asked them to have a seat in a drawing room.

  With visibly shaking hands, Cam took his pistol from its holster and slid it across the floor to his father. Everything in Elliot screamed to not give up his gun, but the combination of his own fear, Andrew’s pain, and Cam’s dread ensured that he would never draw fast enough to beat the Lord Mayor. He gritted his teeth, removed his gun, and slid it across the floor.

  “Thank you,” the Lord Mayor said, placing their pistols in his pockets. “Now I feel much more at ease.”

  He did, to a degree. Arrogance and triumph were coming off of him in waves, but Elliot sensed the rage and bone-chilling fear he hid beneath them.

  “Father,” Cam began, masking his panic with stunned surprise. “I don’t know what you think you know, but―”

  “I know what you are, Cambrian,” the Lord Mayor said as he approached. “You can’t honestly have believed you could keep such a thing from me. I’ve been suspicious for years, and last night, my fears were confirmed.” He paused, his eyes darkening. “I saw you and Andrew together.”

  Cam’s stomach plummeted. “I don’t know what you mean―”

  “I mean you’re a deviant, Cambrian. A twisted abomination. Can you even comprehend the shame and horror I felt when I saw you? My son, the heir to this city…” He paused and viciously spat on the floor beside him. “A goddamned mandrake.”

  All the terror and shame that Cam ever felt rose up inside him, and Elliot stumbled backward, gripping a bar to keep upright. Cam turned around and rushed toward him with frantic, wild eyes.

  “El, it’s not true! I don’t know what he―”

  “Elliot already knows.”

  They turned and stared at the Lord Mayor, who sneered and strolled a bit closer.

  “Don’t deny it,” he said to Elliot. “I’m sure you’ve felt it.”

  Elliot’s mouth went dry. “How―how did you know―”

  “Because your father told me, of course. It’s something we both have in common, you know. Being ashamed of our sons.”

  “El, what’s he talking about?” Cam asked, his strained voice growing shrill.

  “Three weeks ago, Elliot injected himself with a serum,” the Lord Mayor explained. “He created it from his father’s notes after hearing a conversation of ours. He wanted to remove his empathy, but of course he botched it up, and now feels the feelings of those around him like they were his own.” He looked at Cam, a shrewd smile spreading across his face. “Everything you’ve felt for the last three weeks, he’s felt as well.”

  “El…” Cam murmured, his throat going dry. “Tell me that isn’t true.”

  Elliot tightened his jaw. “It is, but Cam―”

  He turned away, and Elliot rushed to his other side.

  “Cam, you need to know―”

  “How could you keep that from me?” he demanded, his chest cracking beneath the weight of his shame. “You’re like my brother.”

  “I know, and I didn’t want to lie to you. It killed me to do it. But I knew that if you knew what I’d discovered, you’d think―”

  “You betrayed me?”

  He started to turn away again, but Elliot caught his sleeve. “Cam, listen! You need to know that your father is wrong about you. I’ve felt what you and Andrew feel, and there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s pure, good, and exactly the way that Iris and I―”

  “That’s disgusting!”

  Cam shoved him away, sending him stumbling back into the bars. Then he glanced at Andrew and shut his eyes, his soul splintering.

  “It’s not,” Elliot insisted, rising and fighting Cam’s agony. “Here,” he said, reaching out to take his hand. “I can show you.”

  “Stop!” Cam shouted, backing away and running his hands through his hair. “Father,” he cried, rushing toward him. “I swear it isn’t true―”

  Without a word, the Lord Mayor snapped his gun across Cam’s face, sending him sprawling back against the bars of the cell next to Andrew’s. Andrew screamed, and Elliot crumbled down to the concrete floor, paralyzed by the sudden blow of terror, pain, and shame.

  “Don’t lie to me,” the Lord Mayor bellowed at Cam. “That’s over now. I know what I saw, and I know what you are.”

  Cam struggled to stand, and the Lord Mayor drew back his foot and kicked his injured rib, tearing the feral cry of a wounded animal from his throat. Andrew gripped his bars and shook them as if he could break free, and Elliot fell to his hands and knees and vomited on the floor.

  “Now look at me,” the Lord Mayor growled, seizing Cam by the collar and dragging him up onto his feet. “Andrew is infected, and the law states he must die, as should you for the vile, disgusting things you two have done. However,” he said, taking a breath and evening his voice. “I have been merciful thus far, and I will continue to be. I will give you one more chance to prove your worth to me.”

  Cam sucked in a desperate breath and released a rattling cough, causing a mouthful of blood to spill out and trickle down his chin.

  “Go back to the palace, clean yourself up, and meet with Earl Blackwell. We’ve already spoken; he’s waiting for you to ask for his daughter’s hand. Marry that girl, get her with child, and you’ll prove to me you’ve changed. Then, in return, Andrew can stay here―imprisoned but alive.”

  Cam’s shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes, wheezing against the pain, but the physical trauma was nothing compared to the torture he felt inside. Elliot felt something split and finally snap inside Cam’s heart, as if his soul had been battered to the point that it detached. He was nothing but a broken shell, a ghost made of pain and shame, so Elliot shouldn’t have been surprised when he looked at his father and nodded.

  “That’s my boy,” the Lord Mayor said, so certain of his victory that he reached inside his pocket, drew out Cam’s gun, and handed it back.

  Elliot stil
l couldn’t move, and Andrew seemed equally paralyzed, so they watched in helpless silence as Cam accepted the gun, clutched his side, and limped toward the stairs. He wanted to stop and look back at them―Elliot could feel it. The smallest trace of the spark that once was Cam begged him to look back, but the fear won, and he climbed the stairs and left without a glance. Once he was gone, however, so was the burden of his pain, and Elliot climbed to his feet and silently charged toward the Lord Mayor. Unfortunately, he turned around and saw him just in time.

  “Hold it right there,” he said, raising his gun to Elliot’s face.

  Elliot froze, sickened by both his own fear and the Lord mayor’s triumph.

  “What did you think you were going to do?” the Lord Mayor taunted him. “It’s not like your condition would allow you to cause someone pain.”

  “I could,” he replied. “I simply wouldn’t enjoy it like you do.”

  The Lord Mayor blanched a little, and Elliot sensed an advantage. Anyone as hungry for control as the Lord Mayor would find someone knowing his deepest, darkest feelings extremely upsetting. If he could just unsettle him enough to drop his guard…

  “You say you’re disgusted by Cam,” he continued. “But I know you’re really afraid. Why? Are you frightened that part of you might feel the way he does?”

  The Lord Mayor’s face reddened. “I think you’re forgetting which one of us is holding a gun on the other.”

  “I think you’re forgetting that I know every single thing you feel.”

  He squeezed the gun tighter, his hand shaking, but then his grimace curled. “You’re right,” he said. “How silly of me. Tell me, what am I feeling right now when I think of your friend, Miss Faye?”

  Violent lust and venomous hatred erupted inside the Lord Mayor, and Elliot clenched his teeth and swallowed the bile in his throat.

  “Where is she? What did you do to her?”

  “She’s unharmed. For now.” He backed toward the stairs, keeping the gun trained on Elliot’s face.

  “Wait!” Elliot cried, desperate to keep him there and talking. “How much does my father know about what you’ve been doing? Making the drug, infecting people, and experimenting on Hydes?”