Jenny Plague-Bringer

Chapter Fifteen



Juliana and Sebastian tried to enjoy an afternoon running free on the Barrett grounds. They avoided the darkness of the house, instead visiting the stables to view Mr. Barrett’s horses, including a champion racehorse, which the horse groom was happy to discuss.

Barrett slaughtered a pig in their honor, outside by the smokehouse. He made a show of cutting the squealing animal’s throat himself with a butcher knife, which sent his young son screaming and crying into the house. It roasted in a pit until long after sunset, filling the grounds with the smell of hot pork.

Sebastian and Juliana waited for supper in the library, where Sebastian continued to “taste” Mr. Barrett’s Canadian whiskey again and again, while Juliana read aloud from a collection of poems by Percy Shelley. Barrett had made a number of notes in the margins of “Ozymandias,” but she couldn’t decipher his handwriting.

When she looked up from the book of poetry, she saw that Barrett’s small, timid son, also named Jonathan, had crept into the room to listen to her. He stood behind a stiff wing-backed chair near the door, as if hiding while also making sure he could escape fast. Sebastian, drowsing off in his own chair while looking out at the gardens, hadn’t even noticed him.

“Hello,” Juliana said to the little boy, who cringed.

“Do I have to leave, ma’am?” he whispered.

“No, you can come and sit. Do you like poetry?”

“I like listening to you read it, ma’am.” He tiptoed around the wing-backed chair and sat down on the edge, tentatively, as if he expected to be attacked at any moment.

“You don’t have to be scared,” Juliana said.

The boy looked at her and started crying. She could not touch him to comfort him, so she tried the softest voice she could manage: “Why are you upset?”

“He killed my pig.” The boy rubbed his running nose on his sleeve. “My favorite pig.”

“Your father?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m sorry.” She felt terrible for him. She could imagine how a boy might get attached to an animal. “He probably didn’t know it was your favorite.”

“He knew! That’s why he killed her. Because she was my friend.” The boy turned red and cried harder.

“What’s happening?” Sebastian asked, startled awake by the boy’s bawling.

“His favorite pig died.”

“Because he hates me! That’s why he did it,” the boy said.

“I’m sure your father doesn’t hate you,” Juliana said.

“And he could have brought her back to life, but he cooked her instead. And now you’re all going to eat her!”

“I don’t think he could bring her back to life,” Juliana said.

“He could! He can bring the dead back. He showed me one night, in the Negro graveyard. He made one climb right out!” The boy was blubbering. “My father’s evil. I think he’s the Devil. Or he’s worse.”

“I’m sure your father isn’t evil,” Juliana told him.

“You don’t know anything!” the boy shouted. He ran out of the library.

“Kid liked that pig,” Sebastian said.

“I couldn’t even hug him or anything. It breaks my heart. Where’s his mother, anyway?” Juliana asked.

“Upstairs with the laudanum, remember?” Sebastian said.

A servant collected them for supper, where Barrett drank heavily and regaled them with stories of nights he’d spent in New York and London, sometimes meeting famous people, about whom he gossiped freely. Some of the stories had Juliana laughing into her punch, though all the alcohol she’d consumed certainly helped her find the humor in his jokes. He came across as well-educated, well-traveled, and just plain wealthy, but with a deep fondness for the little town where he’d grown up.

Neither Barrett’s son nor his wife made an appearance during the meal. Neither Seth nor Juliana had the nerve to ask what his son might have meant about him bringing the dead to life, and with the drinking, the subject was soon forgotten.


In the morning, Juliana felt ill from so much drinking. She ate one of the fluffy, buttery biscuits served at the dining room table, along with a slice of fresh-cut peach, but she didn’t touch the eggs or sausages. She drank plenty of coffee.

“Have you had time to consider my offer?” Barrett asked when he joined them. He was already washed and dressed for the day, which made Juliana feel disgusting with her matted hair, wearing yesterday’s clothes. At least she’d slept well, in a beautiful room on the second floor with nautical paintings on the walls, the bed made from old ship timbers, the curtains cut from sailing cloth. Sebastian had slept in a different room up on the third floor.

“It’s certainly interesting,” Sebastian said. He sat next to Juliana and gave her a long look. Juliana had made it clear to him how much she wanted to do this, even if Barrett himself grew stranger the more they learned about him. She would almost certainly never get another chance to free herself from the demon plague.

“You sound uncertain,” Barrett said. “How else can I convince you?”

“I’m as convinced as I’ll ever be,” Sebastian told him. “I don’t really want it for myself, but I’ll have to go for Juliana’s sake. Make sure she doesn’t slip up and kill everybody there, you know?”

“I would not!” Juliana said, smiling at him. “You’ll go to Berlin? Truly?”

“I can’t stay with the carnival, can I?” he asked. “They’re about to lose the star of their freak show. Things could go south from there.”

“I’m sure the carnival will manage to survive. They did for thirty years before I joined. Oh, thank you!” Juliana threw her arms around Sebastian’s neck and held him close.

“That makes an excellent start to the morning,” Barrett said. “I’ll telegraph my colleagues in Berlin, and phone my office manager in Charleston to arrange your transportation across the Atlantic. We’ll find you a nice, modern ship that makes good time. The accommodations must be suitable for a fine lady.” He smiled at Juliana, and she did her best not to smile back too widely. She would be much more comfortable once she was out of Mr. Barrett’s unsettling, magnetic presence.

After breakfast, Barrett instructed his staff to draw a warm bath for Juliana, a process that involved boiling buckets of well water, hauling them upstairs, and pouring them into the claw-footed tub. After giving the order, he retreated to his office.

Juliana declined when a servant girl offered to “bathe” her, an offer that made her uncomfortable on many levels. She instead invited Sebastian to join her in the bathing room, provided he sat in a chair with his back turned and promised not to look. Partly this was to tease him, partly it was a peace offering—she’d gotten a lot of glares from him for her inappropriate drunken flirting with Mr. Barrett. Mostly, she did it to ensure Sebastian himself bathed before she spent days holed up in a steamship with him.

When Juliana whispered this suggestion, Sebastian gave her his first real smile since they’d arrived at Barrett House.

In the bathroom, she closed the door and turned the key, then slid a wooden chair from the corner to face the door.

“Sit here,” she told him.

“The view won’t be as pretty over here. And I won’t be able to wash your hair for you or anything.”

“I think I can do that myself,” she told him.

He sighed and took the chair, shaking his head as he stared at the closed door. Juliana backed away from him, almost to the tub, and then she pulled her dress up and over her head. She unhooked and removed her cotton undergarments, then stood by the tub, naked from head to toe. She shivered with the forbidden delight of being unclothed in a room with him, her nipples stiffening as she looked at his broad shoulders and his unkempt hair. She almost hoped he would turn around and look at her, but he unfortunately remained a gentleman.

“So, this Barrett fellow, he’s a little strange, isn’t he?” Sebastian asked, still looking at the door.

“He’s going to help us.” Juliana slipped into the warm water. It felt delicious on her bare skin. She soaped her body. “He’s certainly got the dough. A real butter and egg man.”

“Now you’re making me hungry again,” he said, and she laughed. “Don’t you think it sounds suspicious?”

“Of course. I’ve always been a suspicious girl.” She dunked her head underwater, then soaped her hair. “Never trust anyone, that’s what I say. But, still, a free holiday in Europe sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“It doesn’t sound like a holiday. They’ll probably cage us up like rats in a laboratory.”

“If they do, I’ll kill them.”

“Europe is a dangerous place.”

Juliana laughed. “We’re not going to Tasmania. Europe’s more civilized than we are.”

“When they’re not slaughtering each other with wars.”

“The last war ended when we were both little children.” Juliana rinsed out her hair. “Nobody wants war anymore. The world is saner now. Everyone agrees peace is important.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Juliana quickly finished her bath. She stood up in the tub, letting herself drip for a moment, just in case he decided to peek. She would, of course, pretend to be angry if he did. He didn’t look, though, so she reluctantly toweled off, stepped out of the bath, and put her dirty clothes back on, since she didn’t have anything else to wear.

“Your turn in the bath,” she said.

“I don’t need one.” He quickly turned to face her, and his face showed a little disappointment at seeing her fully dressed.

Should have been faster, boy, she thought. She said: “I disagree. Who knows when we’ll get another chance to bathe?”

“I’d rather not.”

“I insist.”

He got out of his chair and grinned at her, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the lean muscles of his chest and stomach. She wanted to reach out and place a hand somewhere low on his belly, but that could make things dangerous fast. He unbuckled his belt, and she turned away to look at the door.

“He really likes you, doesn’t he?” Sebastian asked behind her back. The water sloshed as he entered the tub. “Mr. Barrett.”

“Are you feeling jealous?” she asked him.

“He must be, what, ten years older than us? Twenty? Do you think he’s twenty years older?”

“You are jealous!” She glanced back over her shoulder to see him in the water, and he quickly covered himself with his hands.

“Do you have no modesty?” he asked, though his voice wasn’t exactly angry.

“None.” She turned away again, smiling to herself.

“There’s no reason for me to feel jealous. If he touches you, he dies. Right?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes.” She was glad he couldn’t see her frown. “Of course.”

“So, flirt all you want. I don’t have to worry about anyone else.”

“I don’t belong to you, you understand that?” Juliana asked, still looking at the door. “I’m not your property.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her into the air. She squealed, kicking her legs. He must have eased quietly out of the water and tiptoed up behind her.

“Let me go!” she demanded.

“Why would I let you go now?” He turned her and lowered her against him, pressing his lips to hers. He was still wet, naked, and, judging from the hard pressure against her thigh, very aroused.

“Put me down, Sebastian,” she whispered. “You’re making my dress wet.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t you say a thing!” she told him. She kissed him again. “We have to go.”

Reluctantly, he returned her to the floor. He took his time getting dressed again.


Barrett led them out along a brick path to the stables. Juliana stayed close to Sebastian, holding his arm. It was a hot, sunny day, and she was glad her hair was still wet enough to help keep her cool.

“We don’t mind taking the train to Charleston,” Sebastian told Barrett. “You don’t have to send a wagon all day.”

“You’re in luck,” Barrett told them as he approached a small shed next to the stable. “I have a mountain of work to do in Charleston myself.”

He lifted a loose horizontal board and opened the wooden door it had pinned shut. Inside, where Juliana had expected a wagon or buggy, there was a long, sleek, maroon and black Cadillac convertible, its creme-colored cloth roof laid back to expose the leather interior. It had a gleaming spare tire mounted behind each of the front wheels, just ahead of the running boards. The hood ornament was a silver goddess with wings.

Juliana looked at Sebastian, who was gaping at the polished luxury automobile. It was like something in which a king might travel during a parade, waving to the crowd.

“I may as well drive you there myself,” Barrett said. “It’s the fastest way. Besides, the two of you will be my greatest contribution yet to the Evolution Congress. I want to make sure every moment is as fully pleasurable for you as possible.” He winked as he opened the front passenger-side door. “Ladies ride in front, of course.”

Sebastian shook his head and opened one of the rear doors. He gave her a grin as she sank into the soft leather seat in front of him. Jealous or not, he was clearly going to enjoy the ride.

“Thank you,” Juliana said to Barrett. “I believe this is the finest automobile I’ve ever seen. Will we really travel all the way to Charleston in this?”

“It won’t be a long ride.” Barrett grinned as he dropped into the passenger seat and cranked the motor. The entire car thrummed and vibrated.

“You don’t have a servant to drive you?” Sebastian asked. He’d clearly expected Barrett to ride in the back with him.

“I suppose I could pay a servant to drive my car for me,” Barrett said. He slid a pair of very dark sunglasses over his eyes. “I suppose I could pay someone to eat, drink, smoke, and dance for me, too, but where’s the fun in that?”

Sebastian didn’t look happy, but he moved to the center of the back seat, sprawling out his arms and legs as if pleased to have so much room to himself. He forced a smile and did a horrific attempt at an English accent: “Then drive us, good sir!”

Barrett looked back to give him an annoyed look while punching the accelerator. The car shot out of the shed at high speed, across the brick path and toward the peach orchard. Barrett didn’t even look where he was going.

“Watch out!” Sebastian shouted, ducking. Barrett laughed and wrenched the car around, kicking up grass and dirt as he fishtailed back onto the paved path, more or less, and then gave the car even more gas, charging past the house and into the circular turnaround in front of it. Juliana screamed as he slid sideways in front of the house, his back tires squealing and smoking, and then he whipped onto the driveway and roared past old magnolias and oaks on the way to the front gate.

Juliana looked back over her shoulder, her heart crashing in her chest. A cloud of dust and burnt-rubber smoke hung like a veil in front of the house. In a third-story window, Juliana caught a glimpse of a woman with a very pale, thin face and unkempt hair the color of pine straw. The face vanished quickly. Juliana wondered whether Barrett had even told his wife and son that he was leaving for the day.

The car roared through the open gate and flung up another long cloud of dust as it spun onto the road. They moved east, toward the sun and the countryside, leaving the town behind. The state highway was paved for the initial stretch, so Barrett pressed the accelerator to the floor. The Cadillac moved unnaturally fast, turning cotton fields and cow pastures into a green and white blur on either side of the road. The speed pushed Juliana back against her seat and sent her long, dark hair streaming across her face.

She looked at the round speedometer dial and saw the needle touching 100 miles per hour. She didn’t know anything could move that fast, except maybe airplanes.

Barrett swerved around the very occasional wagon or farm truck without slowing. At each turn, Juliana had to grab the door and the edge of her seat to avoid being slung back and forth, or possibly out of the car altogether. It was frightening, and far more exhilarating than any ride at the carnival. Juliana felt a little bit in love with the car.

Then the highway turned from pavement to dirt, and Barrett had to slow down because of the dips and washout gullies that bounced the car.

“That was fantastic,” Juliana breathed, her skin flush from the long, unexpected blast of speed.

“Must be one of those eight-cylinder cars like the detective had,” Sebastian said, trying to sound bored.

“Sixteen cylinders,” Barrett told him, beaming. “They don’t make many like this, because most people are too dull to want a car like this.”

“It doesn’t seem possible for a person to drive so fast,” Juliana said.

“You could do it,” Barrett told her.

“I don’t believe so! I’ve never operated any automobile before.”

“Is that true?” Barrett slowed to a stop, pulling over to the right side of the road next to a barbed-wired goat pasture. The creatures stared at them as he climbed out of his seat and motioned for Juliana to slide over behind the wheel.

“No, you don’t want to do that,” Juliana said. “I’ll wreck us.”

“I’ll drive the car,” Sebastian offered, but Barrett ignored him.

“You will not wreck us, Juliana. Take the wheel,” Barrett insisted. He crossed in front of the car, around to the passenger side.

“Are you joking?” Juliana looked at the dials and levers.

“All the things in the universe are in a state of decay,” Barrett told her. “It’s a law of thermodynamics.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“It means time is always wasting. The time we spend arguing could be time you spend flying down the road.” He opened her door, standing over her, blocking out the sun. “Move on, or it’s going to get crowded on this side.”

She laughed and slid over behind the wheel, touching it hesitantly with her gloved hands. The engine rumbled ahead of her, sounding eager to move.

Barrett placed one of her hands on the wheel and the other on the long gear stick that jutted up from the floor. Though he knew of the demon plague within her, he seemed to have no fear of leaning his face close to hers, or touching her through her thin summer dress. Juliana found herself blushing a little, and her breaths grew shorter as he positioned her feet on the clutch and the brake pedal, explaining how to use them. His hands brushed her legs a few times, and once his hand happened to linger on her lower thigh as he explained when to shift gears. She wanted to slap him, but she wanted to do a few other things to him, too.

She was grateful that the plague took the choice out of her hands. If she were free to touch Barrett all she liked, she might have been in danger of betraying Sebastian. She could feel guilt on her face as she glanced back at him. Sebastian simply stared at her and said nothing, but he had an angry glint in his eyes.

“I think you’re ready to drive,” Barrett told her.

“I’m not sure...” Juliana said, but she moved the stick out of its parked setting and operated the pedals and wheel as he’d demonstrated, and the car lurched forward and began rolling.

“More gas,” he said, and she stepped hard on the pedal. The Cadillac surged forward, spraying dust behind it. Juliana couldn’t help crying out in excitement as she felt the power surging under her and the wind blowing back her hair. Her fear quickly turned to joy, and soon she drove as fast as the road would allow.

“I’m doing it!” Juliana shouted at Barrett, over the roar of the engine and the high wind that filled her ears. “I’m driving!”

Barrett grinned and patted her on the back. He let his arm linger at her shoulders a little too long, and it almost gave her goosebumps to think of him so near, so willing to risk death just to touch her. His hand was dangerously close to brushing against the bare flesh of her neck. He only withdrew the arm when Sebastian leaned up between them and kissed her on the cheek.

“Don’t kill us!” Sebastian suggested.

“I’ll do my best!” Juliana put on more speed. “I could drive all the way to Charleston, Mr. Barrett! Just tell me where to turn.”

“All you need to do is follow the telegraph line.” Barrett pointed to the cables strung alongside the road, held high above them by wooden poles with crossbars. She remembered a story she’d read in a musty library book when she was a child, about a slave uprising in ancient Rome. The slaves had lost, and thousands of them had been crucified on wooden crosses like these, all along the road to Rome.

For a moment, she could see the bodies crucified along the road. It wasn’t the blocky woodcut image from the old book, either, but real people nailed up and dripping gore, their faces contorted from long, painful deaths, as if she had been a witness to them, traveling along the stone road in the aftermath.

She gazed at Barrett beside her and felt something dark and ancient between them, as if they’d ridden side by side countless times, drawn by fast horses here and there across the world. Later, she would learn the term déjà vu and understand its meaning immediately, thinking of this moment.

Then the moment passed, and she was simply driving again, feeling the sun and the wind on her face. She looked forward to the next stretch of pavement, where she could press the accelerator all the way down and feel the car’s full speed.