“If we haven’t run out already,” I said, creeping out the door.
The stairs brought me down with quiet creaks, shafts of moonlight guiding the way. Downstairs was darker, but I knew the path well enough by now. My steps were slow and careful, and my eyes were on the ground watching for Soot, not at all expecting the body that rounded the corner and collided with me.
My scream would have shaken the house had the shock of his power not taken my breath away. The tiniest gasp came out instead, muffled into Sebastian’s chest. “Oof.”
His arms steadied me, and my legs valiantly resisted the urge to turn to water.
“Um, Evelyn” was all he managed. I looked up into eyes of guilt.
Not just the usual Sebastian guilt he carried around, but something far more immediate. I stepped back, taking in more of him. Fully dressed, a quick tick of a pulse at his throat, and now avoiding my eye.
I settled my hands onto my hips. “And where exactly were you planning on going, Sebastian Braddock?”
“Uh, for a smoke—”
“You do not smoke.”
“You don’t know—”
“Sebastian. You would not know which end of a cigar to light.”
“I—” He stopped as he thought about it. “I suppose I don’t.” He admitted it quietly, like it was shameful that he was not, in fact, a worldly smoking gentleman.
“I’m sure Mr. Kent can tell you. But now, tell me where you are going.”
He looked so much like a dog who felt guilty about tearing up a beloved pillow that I began to worry myself until all at once, I realized what he was about.
And I was furious.
“You were going to give yourself in to Captain Goode.”
He looked up. Nothing like a guilty animal anymore. His chin was set, his shoulders were broad, and he looked every inch formidable. “I am still going.”
I shoved at his absolutely nonformidable chest. He could not deceive me any longer. “You are not. What happened to your insistence on talking to each other instead of acting like brooding fools?”
He leaned down the scant inches between us. “We have talked. Just now.” And then he had the gall to continue past me.
“Don’t you dare!” I grabbed at his coat, swinging him around and me into his chest yet again.
“Oof.” He repeated my earlier exhale.
“You are not going to turn yourself into Captain Goode because that will do nothing except get you killed and then he will continue killing innocent people!” My words came out in such harsh whispers, I would have been surprised if he heard more than the vowels. But he seemed to have gotten the gist as his brow knit together.
“He cannot keep killing innocent people once his supposed killer is in custody.” He sounded so assured of such a na?ve statement. No one would have blamed me if I had simply died of embarrassment for him thinking such a ridiculous possibility.
“He will just blame someone else!” I said. “The only way he gets to keep playing hero is by finding villains.”
His lips were thinned enough that I could practically see the outline of his teeth beneath. “He won’t be able to keep that up. Not if I turn myself in and tell the truth.” He was so willfully, horribly stubborn.
Thankfully, so was I, as people liked to remind me. Constantly. “I forbid it.”
He blinked a little. “You … no, you can’t for—”
“I just did. I forbid you.”
He frowned. “Well, I … no.” And pushed past me again. I scurried in front of him and ran to the door, throwing myself in front of it.
“Evelyn, you’re being childish.”
“It’s the right reaction to your juvenile determination to get yourself killed.” I stuck my tongue out for good measure. If he was going to be ridiculous and dramatic, so would I.
He did not seem to know what to do with this. Awkwardly, Sebastian reached around me for the doorknob. I batted his arm aside. He reached again, giving me a quelling look. I shoved his arm and stretched my body across the doorway. There.
He sighed and grumbled. “I hate when you force me into being ungentlemanly.” That was the only warning I received before he snagged me by the waist and spun me behind him. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open. He was so fast when he wished to be.
But I was willing to make a fool of myself, so I dove at his legs. The door shut as he knocked into it. I crawled up his legs until I had his torso in my arms, where I clung like a burr. He sputtered and tried to detach me, but I latched on as he sank down to the floor against the door.
I caught words like “impossible” and “ridiculous woman,” but I countered them with my own, like “noble ass” and “absurd.”
Finally, he stopped attempting to remove me from his person, panting a little. I crawled farther up his body and planted my full weight on his torso to keep him there.
“Evelyn, please, I have to go.” He looked at me full-on, confidence shining in his eyes, the words determined and steady. He had convinced himself thoroughly that this was his best plan.
And he thought I was Byronic.
“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” I said finally. “I know you want to leave. And you know I can’t let you.”
He scrubbed a hand across his forehead. “Please, you don’t understand. I have to do this.”
My heart felt like a great block had been placed on it. I thought about all the things between us we could not say, even with our new policy of talking about things. All the crimes for which he thought he needed to atone.
“It won’t bring them back.” I barely whispered the words, but he heard them and blanched.
He did not look at me, but his jaw worked a little and he swallowed. “I … I know that. But I still owe them something more than inaction.”
“You owe me, too,” I said, surprised at how fiercely the words came out. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me and get yourself killed. It helps no one at all.”
He did not seem to pay me any mind. I pushed at his chest lightly. He still didn’t look at me.
“Evelyn, you don’t understand—”
I reached down to grab his face and turn it to me. He couldn’t keep avoiding my eyes forever. “But I do. I know what you are trying to do, and this is not the way. It helps no one, and especially not the child who will get your power next.”
Finally, his eyes landed on mine, that deep green that always seemed a little too dark. Like maybe they would be lighter if things had gone differently in his life. If fewer people had died.
“Sebastian. I know every terrible thing you think you have done.” My voice was steady, even if I wasn’t. “I know that Captain Goode and Dr. Beck and some horrible people have twisted your powers into something monstrous. I know how much you loved your parents. How much you loved the Lodges. How much you love helping people. I have seen you when you have hope that your powers can do good, and it is a beautiful thing. The best part is that it’s not impossible. I have seen what you are capable of, and it’s so much more than you realize. You help Rose every day by showing her how you work around your powers. And I know, years from now, when your power goes to the next person, your words, your guide, your life will save theirs.”
“Evelyn, that is, you … I am not…” He seemed so frustrated with me, with the world, but this was not the way to solve anything.
“You can’t turn yourself in. I told you on the bridge.” I felt him stiffen at the word. “I told you I wouldn’t let you go. And you didn’t leave me. You didn’t leave then. You can’t do it now.”
“But, I—”
“I clearly do not have all the answers. But this is not it. I know that. I know it as surely and deeply as I know your power.”
He was brimming with something, and I tried to look ready to hear it, whatever it was he needed to unburden. He tried a few times and finally stopped, his head bowed. He had been about to say something else, but all that came out was a frustrated, “I don’t know how to say it.”
I frowned at him. “It’s very simple. You open your mouth, think of what you wish to say, and—”