The words seemed to escape her lips almost unconsciously. The three of them stood in silence, until a gunshot tore through the air. They all jumped and jerked their heads to the stairs, where the shot had sounded. The basement door was swinging open, its iron lock destroyed. Elliot raced up the steps with Iris and Andrew close behind. Once they reached the top, they saw a figure sprawled out on the floor, and when it sat up and shook its head, they gasped.
It was Philomena.
She blinked and glanced at the smoking shotgun lying by her side.
“Albert wasn’t kidding,” she said. “These things have a hell of kick.”
“Philomena!” Elliot cried. “When did you―how did you manage―?”
“Please. One question at a time.” She raised an arm and an eyebrow. “Care to help a lady up?”
Elliot parted his lips and then stepped forward to take her hand, and when their skin met, the surge of her proud relief relaxed his heart.
“When my mother barged into my room this morning,” she said as he helped her to stand, “it was to inform me that my marriage had been arranged. I knew I couldn’t wait any longer; I had to run away. With Jennie’s help, I drugged her tea with a massive amount of laudanum. She fell asleep in my room, and Albert and I made our escape. I’d planned to steal my father’s pistol, but all I could find was this.” She crouched down and, with some effort, picked up the shotgun. “I found Milo before I left, and he told me where you and Cambrian were, so Albert and I took a carriage and drove here as quickly as we could. I followed the sounds of crashing and screaming down here, to the basement door. When I couldn’t unlock it, I took the gun and―well, you know the rest.”
“Philomena,” Elliot breathed, “You truly are a marvel.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” She grinned. “Now what the hell is going on? Why are you covered in blood?”
She gestured at Andrew and Iris, who glanced at their clothes as if they’d forgotten.
“We’ll explain in a moment,” Iris said. “Where is Albert?”
Philomena glanced at the floor, guilt pricking her chest. “I was worried about you,” she said to Iris. “I didn’t know what else to do, so after he dropped me off here, I sent him to look for you. I told him to go to that secret address you gave me when you first moved in.”
“That’s all right,” Iris said, raising her hands. “I understand. And actually, I think the four of us should go there now.”
Elliot knit his brow. “Go where?”
Iris set her jaw before turning to face him. “To see my mother.”
Disbelief flooded the room as they all turned to stare at her.
“I thought you said your mother was dead,” Andrew finally murmured.
“I lied,” she said. “My mother faked her death to escape the Lord Mayor.” She paused and took another breath. “Her name is Virginia Carroll.”
o, what’s your real name then?”
Philomena was the first to speak once the four of them were safely inside the hansom cab. She’d come to Mansion House in a carriage, but Albert had taken the horse with him to Iris’s address. The distance was too far to walk, and Iris and Andrew could hardly stroll down the street in their bloody clothes, so Elliot had gone and found a hansom cab to take them. Thankfully, besides the shotgun, Philomena had also stolen quite a bit of money, and a generous tip had persuaded the driver not to ask any questions.
Once Elliot returned with the cab, the other three snuck past the guards, ran out, and joined him inside. The driver took off, and the four of them sat in silence, catching their breath. Once the danger had passed, Philomena asked her question. Iris, who was seated next to her and across from the boys, glanced at Elliot with a twinge of guilt before she answered.
“My name really is Iris Faye, it’s just… Iris Faye Carroll.”
“And your mother was that female doctor who worked with Lady Cullum? The one who studied with Dr. Jekyll and died―well, I suppose allegedly died―in a lab explosion?”
“Yes. The Lord Mayor killed Lady Cullum when she discovered he was making the drug and infecting people, but not before she had the chance to tell my mother the truth.”
Elliot glanced at Philomena to see how she took the news about the Lord Mayor infecting the public, but her lack of a reaction―and the fact that she hadn’t asked any more questions about the blood―told him that Iris and Andrew had filled her in while he’d gotten the cab.
“My mother knew the Lord Mayor would be coming for her next,” Iris continued. “So she blew up the lab, made it look like she’d died, took me, and went into hiding.” She turned to look at Elliot. “I’m so sorry I lied to you.”
Elliot reached over, took her hand, and shared his feelings with her, and she closed her eyes and let out a breath when she felt his understanding. “You were protecting your mother,” he said. “We’d all have done the same thing.”
Iris smiled and opened her eyes again, and he released her hand.
“What I don’t understand,” he continued, “is why she hid your existence. Sometimes, after she and Lady Cullum would come for tea, my mother would say how sad it was that Virginia had no family.”
Iris sighed. “She said it was for my protection because of my abilities. And since she wasn’t married… well, no one would have respected her as a doctor or a woman if they’d known she had a child.”
“But why are we going to see her now?” Andrew asked. “We need to find Cambrian.”
Elliot shook his head. “Andrew, we can’t. He’s at the palace.”
“But he needs to know―”
“Have you lost your mind?” Philomena said. “There isn’t a place that’s less safe for us to go right now.”
Andrew sat back, let out a breath, and then turned back to Iris. “Are you sure your mother will even be there?”
“It’s Sunday. That’s her day off.” She glanced at her lap and wrung her hands, her anxiety thickening. “We have to go there. She’s the only one with answers to our questions, and this time, she won’t be able to refuse an explanation. Not when she finds out that I… that my blood might be…” She trailed off, as if saying the words out loud might somehow jinx them.
Philomena, however, had no such qualms. “The bloody cure.” She let out a breath and shook her head. “I don’t know that I ever truly believed one would be found.”
They rode along in silence, absorbing the thought and the palpable, measureless hope it accompanied.
“Do you think the Lord Mayor knows?” Elliot murmured after a moment. “You said all he did after kidnapping you was take your blood.”
Iris knit her brow in thought. “I don’t think so. If he thought I was the cure, he would have killed me straight away.”
“Then why do you think he wanted your blood?” Andrew asked.
“I have no idea.”
“I wonder where he is now,” Elliot pondered, biting his fingernail. “What ‘important matters’ he had to leave us to attend to.”
“He’s probably meeting my father,” Philomena said with a scowl. “Cambrian is the one my parents wanted me to marry.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I adore Cambrian―he’s loads of fun and a fabulous dancer―but I’ll lock myself up in that bloody dungeon before I’ll marry anyone, especially a man who doesn’t like women to begin with. Sorry―no offense, Andrew.”
All three of them turned to stare at her, and Elliot’s lungs nearly collapsed beneath the weight of their shock.
“What?” Philomena asked. “I’m not a bloody idiot. They’ve been gazing at each other as if shot between the eyes by Cupid himself for the last few weeks.” In response to their continued silence, she sighed and shook her head. “When will you people grasp the fact that I know everything?”
Iris’s lips quirked into a grin. “Did you know Elliot’s an empath? He feels the feelings of those around him as if they were his own.”
Philomena looked at him, her eyes widening with the surprise that stille
d her heart. “Well,” she said quickly, glancing away as if bored. “Bully for you.”
A few minutes later, the cab reached the Waterloo Bridge and crossed the Thames. They descended into the lower marsh, and just before they reached the old Southwestern Railway Station, Albert appeared, riding a horse in the opposite direction. Philomena stuck her head out the window and called for the driver to stop, and once he did, she waved her arms and hollered for Albert’s attention. He saw her and immediately pulled up beside the carriage.
“Alby,” Philomena said. “Did you go to the address?”
“Yes, Miss Blackwell. She wasn’t there, and the woman who lives there was quite alarmed by my presence and my questions.”
“Iris is actually here with me,” Philomena explained. “We’re on our way back to the flat right now. Will you come with us?”
“Of course.”
The driver took off down the road again, and Albert followed behind them. Finally, they reached a tenement building beside the old station. Elliot wrapped his coat around Iris before they stepped out of the carriage, hoping it would hide most of her bloodstained gown from the crowd. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much Andrew could do to conceal his clothing, so Albert and Philomena walked close beside him to shield it from view. They climbed the steps to the second floor, and Iris raised her arm and knocked on a door, her anxiety peaking.
Elliot felt the fear behind the door before it opened, and when Virginia stepped into view, the force of it became blinding. He blinked for a moment, but once he saw her, he couldn’t believe how familiar she looked for someone he’d only met a handful of times as a very young child. But then, perhaps the familiarity also stemmed from how much she and Iris resembled each other. Instead of gold, her eyes were dark grey, but her delicate face and thick, charcoal curls were exactly the same. The moment she saw Iris and her bloodstained gown, however, those eyes expanded with panic and terror that ruptured her pounding heart.
“Mama, I’m not hurt,” Iris began, but before she could finish, Virginia threw her arms around her and pulled her against her chest.
“Iris,” she cried. “I didn’t know if you were dead or alive!” She stepped back and looked at her dress. “What in God’s name happened to you?”
“I’ll explain everything,” Iris said. “But we need to go inside.”
Only then did Virginia lift her head to see the others, and when she saw Elliot, her face grew pale. “Is that…” she murmured, terror closing around her throat.
“Please, Mama, inside.”
Virginia looked at Philomena and her shotgun, Albert in his footman’s attire, and Andrew in his torn and bloodstained eveningwear.
“My God…”
“Mama, please,” Iris begged.
“A-all right,” she stammered. “Come inside.”
Virginia refused to ask or answer any questions until her daughter was no longer covered in blood, so the rest of them waited while she cleaned Iris up and helped her to change out of her gown behind a screen. When the two of them emerged, Iris was wearing a plain brown dress, and her mother’s fear and anxiety had softened the slightest bit. She handed Andrew the basin and cloth she’d used to clean Iris’s blood, and he thanked her, sat on the floor, and wiped the stains from his hands and neck. Iris sat down on a mattress, and Virginia slid into a chair, so Elliot, Philomena, and Albert seated themselves on the floor.
“Mama,” Iris began after pausing to clear her throat. “These are friends of mine: Andrew Heron, Philomena Blackwell, Albert… oh, I don’t actually know―”
“Cummings,” Philomena provided.
“Thank you. Albert Cummings. And this is Elliot―”
“Morrissey,” Virginia interjected, both her eyes and her voice like ice. “What is he doing here?”
“Mama, I know what you’re thinking, but all of these people―they’re on our side.”
“Our side?” she demanded, her eyes growing wide. “What have you told them, Iris?”
She shifted against the mattress. “They know everything I know.”
The veins in Virginia’s neck nearly burst with her panic and rage. “Have you lost your mind?” she cried. “First, you disappear after work, then you send me a letter saying you’re living inside the palace, then you show up covered in blood with the son of Dr. Morrissey―”
“I know, I know,” Iris said, raising her hands. “And I’m sorry for that. But Mama, just listen and let me explain. I have something wonderful, something even possibly miraculous to tell you.”
Virginia set her jaw and sat back in her chair, and Iris went on.
“Last night, the Lord Mayor kidnapped Andrew and forced him to take the drug.”
Elliot jumped as Virginia’s fear spiked, and she stood and stumbled against her chair.
“Mama, wait!” Iris cried, rising as well. “Just hear me out. This morning he changed and attacked me, and during the struggle, our open wounds came in contact with each other. The moment my blood met his blood, he immediately changed back. It was instantaneous―like nothing any of us had seen―and he said he feels different now, that there was a burning inside him that’s gone. Mama…” She took a step closer, holding her breath. “I think he’s cured.”
For a moment, Virginia’s shock was so strong she almost felt nothing at all. Then, slowly, her frozen lips formed a single word. “Cured?”
“Yes,” Iris exhaled, reaching out and clutching her hand. “I don’t know how or why, but Mama… I think my blood is the cure.”
The room swelled with silence so thick it coated the air like smoke. Virginia sat back down as if unconscious of the movement, staring straight ahead and seeing something far away. Iris’s pulse quickened with concern, and she knelt before her.
“Mama… did you hear what I just said?”
“I―I should have known,” she murmured, almost inaudibly. “I never thought… I didn’t want to think… I should have known.”
Suddenly, a well of pain and shame sprang up inside her, clogging her soul and spreading through her body like poisonous bile. Elliot bit his lip and closed his eyes, his muscles tensing. The feeling was almost identical to Cam’s agony in the basement―wretchedness and degradation so fierce it devoured the self.
“Mama, what is it?” Iris asked. “What do you mean you should have known?”
Virginia turned away, shaking her head against the pain, and Elliot rose and rushed to Iris’s side.
“Give her a moment.”
“Why?” she asked. “What’s wrong? What is she feeling?”
Elliot let out a breath and closed his eyes, taking her hand. He shared the feelings, and Iris shuddered, her eyes filling with tears.
“My God,” she murmured, releasing Elliot’s hand and taking her mother’s. “Mama,” she said softly. “Mama, please. Will you look at me?”
Slowly, Virginia turned her head, and when she looked at Iris, tears swam into her eyes as well.
“Mama,” Iris said. “Mama, I love you more than life. I’m here for you, and there’s nothing you can say or do to change that.”
Virginia closed her eyes, and the tears slipped down her cheeks.
“I know what you’re feeling,” Iris continued, her voice growing raw. “I don’t know why you feel this pain, but I’m here to help you through it. Just like you’ve been there to help me through everything all my life.” She sucked back a sob, squeezing her hand. “I’m strong because of you, because you taught me how to be. Trust me now, and let me be strong for you. Talk to me.”
Silence swelled in the room again, but then Virginia opened her eyes and released a trembling breath. “I should have known,” she said, “because of how you were conceived.”
Iris’s heart ground to a halt, as did everyone else’s, but no one spoke, and after another breath, Virginia went on.
“I was working late in the lab one night, here in London, when I was a student. And he, my teacher…” She bit her lip. The struggle to say the name was dragging her stomach
up into her throat, so Elliot swallowed and said it for her.
“You mean Dr. Jekyll?”
Virginia’s nausea swelled, but she nodded and continued. “He came in unexpectedly. I asked him if he needed something and he said no, he was fine, but then he just sat there, watching me as I continued my work. I grew nervous and asked again if there was something I could do, and then he said, ‘Well, yes, Miss Carroll. I do have something in mind.’ He told me he’d created a new serum a few days ago, and that since then he’d been testing it out, but always by himself. I stopped my work and watched as he revealed a vile and syringe. Then, without another word, he removed his coat, rolled up his sleeve, and injected himself with the serum. I was so stunned I couldn’t speak or move from where I stood, and when he was done, he looked at me and said―” She broke off, gritting her teeth as her throat began to close. “He said, ‘I think I’m going to enjoy this experiment.’”
Elliot shuddered and glanced at Iris. Her face was pale as death.
“Then he transformed,” Virginia continued. “His eyes went black, and his skin turned white, and he became the kind of Hyde that none of you would remember―the kind that didn’t eat hearts but committed… other violent acts.” She closed her eyes as guilt rose up and joined the shame in her throat. “I was the first to witness the monstrous thing he had created, but I didn’t tell a soul what I’d seen… or what he’d done to me. I booked passage for America and left the very next day. I was already back in Kansas when I discovered…” She opened her eyes and looked at Iris. “That I would have you.”
Iris stared at her, not breathing. “My father was… Henry Jekyll?”
Virginia nodded. “And you were conceived while he was an active Hyde.” She took a breath and wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “I thought I could forget what happened, pretend that you were simply a magical gift that came from nowhere, but now I see that in doing so, I blinded myself to the truth.”
“Mama, it only makes sense that you would want―”
“No, listen to me.” She leaned down and cupped Iris’s face in the palm of her hand. “I’ve never considered you anything but a blessing from God, Iris, but I didn’t want to acknowledge the terrible act that brought you here. I knew it was the reason you could do all the things you could do, that the powers of the drug had been transferred into your body, but admitting that meant admitting what had really happened to me, so I told myself―as well as you―that it was a mystery.”
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