by Unknown
He eased her to her feet. “I’m here. At the picture in your mind. Now, where do we go?”
Elizabeth looked around and for a moment, seemed lost, but he watched as she squared her shoulders and then sank to her knees, digging in the dirt for something.
“What are you looking for?”
“The lever. There’s a staircase down to the cave.”
“That doesn’t seem very bright.” Not that anyone asked him.
“It can be deactivated once we’re inside.” She pulled a lever and the sharp sound of creaking metal pierced the air. “Look, there.” She pointed toward the edge of the cliff.
A gleaming metal staircase had emerged. From where, he wasn’t sure. It seemed as if it had materialized from nowhere.
“I remembered. Oh, thank god.”
“Again, I don’t think god had anything to do with it.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Did I? It’s a thing you humans say when things are good. Or some random chance works out for you because you needed it to. But you don’t say it when the bad things happen. Like when your mother died from her brain tumor. There was no thanking god, for surely, if there is one, that is his realm too, as are all things. Or so humans believe. No, instead, you’re trying to do things to thwart his plans. The illnesses he allowed.”
She eyed him and was ready for the fight he and his maker would have on this topic, the fight that he and Mary had… Even the fight he’d had with Elizabeth’s mother when she’d found out she was sick.
Instead, she said, “That’s too deep a conversation to have while running from zombies.”
She, in a word, delighted him.
He found himself smiling again.
She headed toward the staircase.
“Wait, I should go first.”
Elizabeth held out her hand. “By all means.”
5
T he monster.
He wasn’t a monster at all. Not really. He looked like a man, but that wasn’t what made him human. It was the wealth of emotion in his eyes.
She found herself incredibly curious about him, about his life. About who he was at the cellular level.
The way he’d covered the distance between the institution and the safe house had been insane.
Inhuman.
But he already seemed to be the most human being she’d ever known.
Elizabeth found him strangely compelling, no more… attractive. She didn’t date, she’d always been more interested in what was going on in the brain in a literal sense than actually engaging with the opposite sex.
Granted, she’d had her share of relationships, but they always ended badly. She never had enough time or attention to give them. Even when they’d both agreed to no strings.
She wanted to see his flesh, yes. For scientific purposes, but he was so big and strong she couldn’t help but wonder if it was everywhere else, too. Her lips and mouth were suddenly dry as she watched him descend the newly revealed spiral staircase down the side of the cliff.
It was only a moment before he called up to her, “It’s safe.”
She was glad for his presence. The only thing that could make what was happening worse would be if she had to try to survive it alone.
Elizabeth followed the steps down the side of the cliff, and paused, looking out over the Aegean. The blue, it wasn’t like any blue she’d ever seen before. It was at turns midnight and midday sky. The tang of salt in the air was a welcome one, and the wind whipping her hair against her cheeks until her eyes stung was worth it.
It occurred to her this might be the last view, her last glance at this world. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs and holding it there until she thought her chest was going to burst.
“Elizabeth, are you okay?” His big body blocked the entrance to the cave.
There was something about seeing him there. Something that silenced all the guilt, all the fear, all the doubt in her head. She believed that everything was going to be okay.
“I’m fine.”
“The view is quite beautiful,” he said, but he wasn’t looking out across the sea as she had been. He was looking at her.
“Do you like the sea?” she asked, finishing her descent and following him inside the mouth of the cave.
“I love the sea. I prefer to always have her in my sights.”
She wondered about him. Where he lived? Did he hide himself? Elizabeth tried to picture him in a house or an apartment, and she simply couldn’t.
“I came from Trieste. I was working at Castle Miramare, living in the dungeons.”
That she could picture. “Do you always know what I’m thinking?”
He turned to study her. “Not always. Enough. If it’s something that’s much on your mind, some need you have that I can fill, then yes. It’s part of how I was designed.”
Oh hell. She needed to not think about his shoulders. Or his biceps, or how much she’d liked being cradled against his chest while he fought off the zombie horde with one hand. That was the kind of man she’d dreamed about. He didn’t need to know that.
He wasn’t a man—he was a monster.
Guilt crashed over her as soon as the thought formed. He was no more a monster than she was—no, that was a blatant untruth. If anyone in the cave were a monster, it was her. For what she’d done. What she’d allowed to happen.
“I can see that, you living in a castle. I’ve always wanted to see Trieste.”
“I could take you there now. It’s a little more than a day on my boat.”
If only… But she knew what she had to do. “Perhaps someday. Can I ask you something?”
“You have already asked me something. Many things.” He nodded.
“I will ask you another something, and I suppose you don’t have to answer, but—”
“If you ask, Elizabeth Wollstonecraft, then yes, I must answer.”
“How did you know to come? You arrived just in time to save my life.”
“You saved your own life. You didn’t really need me.”
“But I did. I needed you to get this far.” She studied the walls of the cave, looking for the next passage, running her fingers along the rock.
“Check in with your masters, then I will answer all of your questions if you’re still of a mind to hear them.”
“You know what they’re going to say, don’t you?” She pressed her lips together. “Yeah, me too. But I don’t want to.” Elizabeth sighed. “I don’t want to go back in there.”
“So, do not.”
“You know it’s not that easy. They’d send a bounty hunter after me. Or worse.”
“I will protect you, if that’s what you wish.”
“Polidori said they want you.”
“I’m sure they do.” He shrugged, but continued to stare out of the mouth of the cave.
“You’d fight them for me?” She inched closer to him, her search temporarily forgotten.
He turned to look at her, intensity burning in his mismatched eyes. “I’d do anything for you. All you have to do is tell me what you want.”
Elizabeth needed to touch him. She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. His skin was so hot, he felt feverish, but she didn’t pull back. “For me, or the bloodline?” It was stupid that she wanted him to make the distinction, that she wanted to be the one he’d fight for. Elizabeth didn’t need drama or faux alpha male macho bullshit. She didn’t want anyone to fight over her or for her, but somehow, it was important that he would.
“The bloodline. I’m bound, but yes. For you, too, Elizabeth.”
“Why?”
“I doubt that you’ll remember, but once you were a little girl crying over your mother all alone in a hospital waiting room.”
That memory was sharp as a blade slicing into her awareness. It was strange how she remembered even the color of her mother’s ponytail holder, the exact number of frayed edges on the embroidery of her favorite sweater, but him… she’d believed the big man who’d come had bee
n a dream. Something she’d made up to comfort herself in the darkest times when she’d been so very much alone.
Only it hadn’t been.
“You asked me what I needed,” she said, as the memory became corporeal in the being in front of her. Her hand, of its own volition moved to his cheek.
He closed his eyes against her touch. His face was burning up, on fire. Like the rest of him. “And I didn’t say anything. I wanted to ask you to bring my mama back, but I knew it was wrong to ask. How did I know that?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was a jagged whisper, but the words seemed to have been torn from him. “But I’ll fight for you. I’ll save the world. For you.”
His words were a balm and a wound. Being so close to something she’d thought was a myth, a legend, but somehow he was so very real, so very… him. It twisted up her insides, and she couldn’t think straight.
All she wanted in that moment was to get her hands on him. She couldn’t get close enough to all that hot skin.
The circular stairway began to retract and the sound of the scraping metal startled her. She lurched against him.
He caught her easily and, the moment they touched, something changed. Some electric charge crackled between them.
They were in the middle of an apocalypse. They couldn’t do this, even if he wanted the same thing that she did.
But why couldn’t they, a voice in the back of her mind asked. Why? They could ride out the storm and let the Bureau 7 SWAT handle the carnage. It was what they signed up for. Elizabeth had simply wanted to cure cancer.
She was dizzy being this close to him, on fire, her knees were weak. She’d never been so affected by a man.
He looked into her eyes, and it was like drowning. No, like he could see what she looked like underneath it all, not just her clothes, but like he could see deep into her bones and knew exactly what made her Elizabeth.
It was intense and awful, being so bare, but it was kind of wonderful, too. Because he didn’t look away. He saw her for every horrible thing she was, and he didn’t flee her. Didn’t break this dark thing between him.
And she could see him, too.
Elizabeth could see all the darkness inside of him, the shadowed place where humans had souls. His wasn’t empty. He was fire. He was lightning. He was everything.
He was part of her, somehow.
She gasped on an intake of breath, her heart thudding against her chest, and she wished for all the world that he’d kiss her. Her hands slid up his back to his shoulders and she wondered if he’d ever kissed a woman. If he felt desire.
“I will keep you safe,” he swore. “You don’t…”
A shaky laugh escaped her. “You think I’m trying to pay you?” She swallowed hard. “I’ve never felt this before.”
“What do you want from me?”
The way he said it sounded so… broken. “What do you want?”
“I want to take you away from here and sail somewhere beautiful. I want to be free from these chains that bind me.”
“That’s it?” Jesus, he wasn’t experiencing what she was at all. She’d never thought someone could feel something that intense and have it be utterly one-sided. Elizabeth tried to gather her senses, but had little luck being so close to him. He hadn’t released her, and she wasn’t inclined to be released, even if he wasn’t going to kiss her.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “How does this work? Your chains?”
That seemed to shatter the moment. He released her, almost as if she were something he didn’t want to touch at all. Her ego might’ve whimpered just a bit.
“I must protect you. I must do what you say.”
“What happens if you don’t?”
“Pain until I comply, unless I’m refusing the order because it’s dangerous to you.”
“Can I release you?”
He spun back around, gripping her arms. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
Electricity crackled, and his touch carried with it a bit of a current. Nothing uncomfortable, but surprising. “Of course I mean it, Adam.”
“Then say it. Now.”
She opened her mouth, but for a single second, knew doubt. If she released him now, would he leave her here to fight this alone?
He shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t. Mary promised she’d release me too, but instead of the release she promised, she forced me to murder one of the kindest women I’ve ever known,” he snarled.
“Hey, shit. Give me a second to process, okay? I’m scared. I’m alone.”
“I said I’ll protect you. Trust my word.”
“And I should trust you won’t leave me? If you’re free, you’ll have no horse in the race. You can’t blame me for thinking of my own survival.” That was the only reason he was there, because he’d been compelled to be. He didn’t want to kiss her, touch her, his skin didn’t ache with the need to be touched like hers did.
She steeled herself, because fuck this. Elizabeth had always had to fight. She’d always had to fight alone. Why should this be any different? She didn’t need him. Not if he didn’t want to be here.
“I release you.”
Elizabeth turned away from him to renew her hunt for another passage. Bureau 7 must’ve had a safety pod or some means of communication and survival gear hidden in the cave. She simply had to find it.
She could berate herself later, while she was waiting to be rescued.
A roar was torn from him, and she found herself hoisted against him, and she didn’t know what it was in his eyes. Fury? Fear? Gratitude? Whatever it was, she liked seeing it on him. She liked looking at his face, the hard angles of his jaw. Even his one gold eye, and one blue. She liked the scar around his neck…
“Why do you think of me this way?”
“I don’t understand what you’re asking.” Perhaps some part of her did, but he’d already made it clear he wasn’t interested.
“This desire.” He tightened his grip on her. “You’ve freed me, but I still feel it. You can’t want this.”
She understood now. Elizabeth leaned her head against his chest, pressing herself as close as she could get, returning the firm, almost painful embrace. “Of course I do. I won’t say I’m not curious about you in all ways, that it’s not at all a scientific interest. That’s just how my mind works, but I can say, we’d have to do many, many things before I could even focus on that aspect. You make me dizzy.” She pulled back to look up at him again. Elizabeth wanted him to see the truth of her words in her eyes. “You make me hot.”
“Why?”
“That’s the question that any two people could ask, don’t you think? Why? Because our genes are compatible?”
“I cannot… that is… I do not…” he spluttered.
“Does it matter? If you want me, take me.”
“I swore I’d never touch another Wollstonecraft woman this way.”
Another? “So you’ve been with one of us before? Was it not something you wanted?” She couldn’t imagine the horror of living, bound as he was, to another’s whims. To be forced…
“She was woman-shaped.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t a hardship. Not that part of it. It was the other things she made me do. The murders.”
“Mary, you mean. She was a child when she married Percy.”
“No, it was after he died.”
“The woman you spoke of, the kind one.” Elizabeth searched his face and found the sadness she’d hoped to see. She was on the right track. “That was Percy’s first wife, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, and hers is the only death I’ve regretted.”
Elizabeth wished she had some words to make it better, to ease his guilt and pain, but she didn’t. So instead, she offered him the same thing he’d offered her all those years ago. A quiet touch, the simple knowledge that he wasn’t alone.
“Come with me,” he said. “Leave this place, leave Bureau 7.”
He’d dipped his head now, and his words were a feather light whisper against her li
ps.
“You know I can’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
“Why?” He was still so close to her.
Jesus, but he was intense.
“Because of what I want. What I need. 7 has resources I won’t have access to anywhere else. With 7, I have a real chance of curing brain disease. Of making a difference so mothers don’t leave little girls to cry alone in waiting rooms in the arms of strangers.”
“Goddamn it.” The epithet was torn from him, as it seemed was his next action.
His mouth crashed into hers.
That faint crackle buzzing between them exploded, and there was nothing left in the world but him. The scent of him, like the storm, the brand of his hands, and the slant of his mouth over hers.
Everything was ash and it didn’t matter one third of a damn because of this moment.
He pulled back, breaking the kiss slowly. Elizabeth didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want him to let go—only more of this.
“Is this really want you want? To be fucked against the wall by a monster while the world burns?”
She paused. Were there people who didn’t want this? “Hell yes.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I mean, if that’s what you want. I released you, Adam. You don’t have to be here with me. Not like this. Not even at all.”
“I want to be here, more than I thought possible.”
“Can I touch you?” she dared, her fingers going to the strangely banal t-shirt. What did monsters wear, after all?
His eyes fluttered closed as she peeled the shirt off of him. She didn’t know why he was always portrayed with green skin—perhaps it was something to do with death. He wasn’t green at all, he was golden. Perhaps it was from all the hours he now got to spend in the sun on his boat. Perhaps because he didn’t have to hide in sallow darkness.
And he shouldn’t, he had a body that was like art—no, it really was art. It had taken an artist to put together a man so beautiful. To stitch him from the bits of others and integrate them so perfectly—created a whole new being.
She traced over the scars at his neck, her fingers fluttering like butterfly wings against the marred flesh. Then down to the scar on his shoulder where his left arm had been attached to his torso.