Her Dark Curiosity

“I haven’t told you the worst part yet,” I whispered.

 

She stopped pacing. Her eyes were wide and scared, and I hated that I had to be the one to tell her.

 

“Henry Jakyll isn’t who you think he is,” I said.

 

Her forehead wrinkled. “Henry? What does he have to do with this?”

 

“He has everything to do with this.” My fingers twisted in the dress’s fabric. “His name isn’t Henry. It’s Edward Prince, and I’m well acquainted with him. We met on Father’s island, and he followed me back here.” My hand slipped on the smooth fabric and fell to my side. “He’s one of Father’s creations, Lucy.”

 

I’d expected her to cry out, or swoon. But she sank onto the edge of the bed, careless of the silk dress she was wrinkling by sitting on it, and looked as deathly ill as though she’d seen a ghost. “I don’t understand.”

 

“I told you how Father made the beast-men. He used surgery for most of them, resetting the joints of their bones and grafting new skin so that they looked very nearly human and could speak, though their mental faculties never progressed much further than a child’s. But he had another technique that didn’t involve surgery at all. He combined animal and human components through a chemical procedure that changed the animal flesh on a cellular level. The creature he created surpassed all the others, might as well have been an entirely new breed. It could think just as rationally as any man, could read, could feel the entire range of emotions. It looked perfectly human, unlike the others.” I paused, twisting my hands together nervously. “I didn’t even know myself at first that Edward was this creation—”

 

“Stop!” she cried. “Stop, what you’re saying is impossible.”

 

From outside I heard the jingle of sleigh bells as the first guests arrived. Time was growing short, and I bit my lip and twisted my hands harder.

 

“It isn’t. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. He looks human, and he does have a human side that’s kind and generous, but he has a much darker side, too. There were murders on the island, hearts torn from bodies. . . .”

 

My hands clenched together. I couldn’t find the words to continue, but I could tell from Lucy’s face that I didn’t need to.

 

“It’s Henry, isn’t it?” she whispered. “Or rather Edward. He’s the Wolf of Whitechapel.” Her eyes locked to mine, wanting me to say it wasn’t true.

 

But I couldn’t tell her any more lies.

 

I wrung my hands. “I told him to stay away from you—that’s why he sent you that letter. I didn’t want him anywhere near you, in case he couldn’t control his transformation and put you in danger. I’m sorry, Lucy. I was only looking out for your safety.” Guilt pulsed like a broken rib in my side. I wasn’t being entirely honest with her—I’d also shared a bed with him.

 

Her chin tipped in a small nod, an indication that she’d heard me. She chewed on a fingernail. “What are we going to do?”

 

A peal of laughter floated up the stairs as the front door slammed to let in more guests. I took a deep breath, and then pushed off the bed and grabbed her green dress. “We’re going to get dressed and go downstairs before we’re missed. I want you to stay close to Inspector Newcastle all night. He’s always armed, so you’ll be safe with him. There’s a chance Edward might show up . . . if you see him, promise me you won’t talk to him.”

 

She bit her lip. “But if Henry—I mean Edward—is wrapped up in all this too, couldn’t he help us?”

 

The hopeful look in her eye told me her feelings for him hadn’t dimmed despite the terrible truths I’d told her. I leaned forward, grabbing her arm. “Lucy, I said he’s dangerous. You haven’t seen him transform like I have. His muscles grow, his tendons pop. His eyes go dark and slitted like an animal’s, and he has claws ready to spring from between his fingers.”

 

“Stop!”

 

She covered her face with her hands. I realized that I was holding my hand like a gnarled claw in front of her face, ready to claw her like Edward had so recently done to me. Tears were coming down her face. She really did care about him. Was it my place to trample her affection? I had a responsibility to protect her from Edward; and yet if I found a cure and the Beast was gone, I supposed Edward wouldn’t be a threat to her safety anymore. I’d have no reason to object to them courting.

 

So why did my heart falter and my anger stir just thinking about the two of them together?

 

As she cried softly into her hands, I sat back on the dresser chair, trying to understand my own feelings. Was it because of what happened between us the previous night?

 

That was a mistake, I told myself. Nothing more.