“This is a trap, Edward,” I whispered. “Montgomery will be here any moment.”
“I know,” he said calmly, to my surprise, and threw the chains across the brook, where they clattered at my feet. “The chains aren’t for you. They’re for me. I read the headlines about the professor’s murder.” He paused, seeming to war within himself. “When the Beast was killing people who had wronged you, it was easier to forgive his crimes. But I know now that he’s grown too strong. I can’t contain him myself any longer. Now hurry and chain me to that tree. I don’t know how long I can hold him off.”
I stared at him, wondering if he could be believed. I shrieked as he leaped over the brook with unnatural grace, afraid he was attacking, but he only pressed his back up against a palm tree.
“Hurry,” he said.
I scrambled to my feet, fumbling to wrap the chain around him as tight as I dared, though each time around he grunted, “Pull it tighter,” until the links tore at his clothing. I secured the chains in place with the thick padlock I’d given him, and looked into his eyes.
They shone with an ungodly glow.
“Now back away from me,” he said, as his voice grew deeper. “And whatever you do, no matter what he tells you, don’t unlock these chains.”
I scrambled back to the grotto, falling among the flowers. Where was Montgomery? He should have been here by now. I had seen Edward transform before, once in Father’s barn, and once in my attic, but this time, amid the palm trees and vines, it seemed even more savage. I looked on in horror as pain wracked him, as his hands split open and seeped blood to allow his claws to emerge, as his swelling muscles strained to split the seams on his shirt. His nails turned black. His hair turned darker, grew longer.
I crawled backward, heart throbbing.
Edward’s head hung and for a moment all I could hear was him breathing, breathing.
Why didn’t he speak?
“Edward?” I whispered. “Can you still hear me?”
The chains groaned under the restricted movements of his chest. I could smell him now, a mixture of sweat, the iron chains, and a deep earthy scent like tobacco smoke.
His head tilted up to reveal a pair of insidious yellow eyes.
“No, my love. Not Edward.”
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
THIRTY
I JERKED MY HAND up, holding the knife as though it was an extension of my hand. I braced for him to lunge and tear at me with claws, but as my panic stretched and still no horror came, just the soft sound of his breath against the chains, I exhaled slowly.
I took a few cautious steps until I was within feet of him.
“You can’t hurt me,” I said. “You’re chained, and I have a knife.”
“How endearing that you think a knife can stop me.”
It was the same voice from the masquerade, when he’d trapped me beneath the mistletoe and spoken from behind the red mask. A voice too human for such a devil, and yet it evoked the smell of the island, the feel of caves hidden behind waterfalls and beasts crawling through jungle leaves, and a little part of me longed to hear him speak again.
“If you could free yourself of those chains, you would have,” I said. “That padlock was designed to withstand a force far stronger than you.”
I could almost feel his sinister grin. The boilers let out another burst of steam as sweat dripped down my face and soaked into my dress. At first his silence felt as though I had triumphed—I had the power here, the freedom, and he was trapped. Yet as the silence stretched, so did my uneasiness.
Where was Montgomery?
I went to the window and pressed my face against the frosted glass. Only darkness outside, not even the ring of lanterns to give me comfort in the desolate night.
“Loosen these chains, my love. Only an inch. I can’t breathe.”
I winced at the memory of the bruises cut into Edward’s chest and arms in such intricate patterns that they were almost beautiful. He’d have more bruises before the night was out, because of me this time.
I tightened my hold on the knife. “I can’t.”
“It’s killing me.”
“I don’t care.”
“It’s killing him, too.”
His gaze was keenly focused. I knew it was a trick, and a transparent one at that. But the body was still Edward’s. The voice—certain words, certain expressions—rang as slightly familiar.
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “You know I can’t. Montgomery will be here any moment. Until then, it’s better if you don’t speak to me.” I felt my cheeks burning and prayed he couldn’t see in the dark. “Especially don’t call me . . . by that name you use.”
“What, my love?” I heard a strained bark of laughter. “But that’s what you are. We’re more alike than you want to admit.”