London. âI warned you about his secrets once. You like to pretend that you didnât hear, and yet here I am in your head, a voice you canât escape.â
My head suddenly ached with splitting pain.
âDo you remember what I said?â he asked.
I pressed a hand to my temple.
Ask Montgomery about your fatherâs laboratory files on the island , he had said. About the ones you didnât see .
M Y EYES SHOT OPEN as I jerked upright. The smell of the professorâs root cellar hung around me like fog. I tried to stand but the memory choked me until I realized it was only the bedspread tangled around my limbs.
Scotland , I reminded myself. Iâm in Scotland, not on the island .
I climbed out of bed and threw open the window for fresh night air. The rain had stopped, but the smell of bogs was heavy. No matter how many deep breaths I took, I couldnât rid myself of that terrible dream.
I looked toward the door to Montgomeryâs room. My fingers drifted to the thin silver ring on my finger, glinting in the candlelight.
My future husband.
Had I been wrong to disregard the Beastâs warning about him?
My stomach churned with worry. I didnât want to return to an empty bed, frightening dreams, and thoughts of a fiancé who might be keeping secrets. I decided to findEdwardâs room and verify with my own eyes that the Beast hadnât returned.
I threw on an old dressing gown I found in the armoire. It was lacy and long, softly feminine yet old-fashioned. I lit the candelabrum and opened my door silently.
The hallway was quiet. Everyone else was sleeping soundly. I pressed the electric light button on the wall but nothing happenedâthe electricity must have gone off in the storm. I peered through the first keyhole I came to, at a room smaller than my own and considerably cozier. To my surprise, the bed was empty, the occupant curled on the warm hearthstones instead, his big hairy arms tucked under his heavy head, snoring softly. Balthazar. Sharkey slept in his arms, feet twitching as he chased dream rabbits. Balthazar must have snuck down to the barn to get him. The sweet scene warmed me as if I was curled by the hearth with them.
A floorboard squeaked down the hall, and I jerked upright, but it was nothingâjust the manor settling. I shivered anyway as I peeked in the next keyhole. A half dozen candles burned on the table as though the roomâs occupant feared the dark. A soft murmur came and the figure rolled over, flashing dark curls and a pale face not so different from my own.
Lucy.
There was only one guest bedroom left, so it had to belong to Edward. I peered through the keyhole. A candle on the side table flickered there, too. Edward lay still as a corpse on the bed, not even a blink or a flicker of breath totell me he was alive. The chains wrapped around his arms and chest glinted in the candlelight.
I shuddered. The servants must think us mad to chain a young man we claimed was a friend, but if they knew the truth, theyâd be even more fearful of us. I took out the key to his room, ready to open it.
Suddenly a face blocked the keyhole. A shriek ripped through me as I stumbled backward. An eye looked back from the other side of the keyhole. It was milky white, completely devoid of color.
It blinked.
I screamed.
M ONTGOMERY WAS FIRST INTO the hallway. He spotted me and rushed to my side.
âWhatâs happened?â he asked, all tension from our fight put aside.
Another door slammed, then another, and footsteps sounded above our heads. I tried to steady my breath.
âA face,â I breathed. âThereâs someone in Edwardâs room.â
Uncertainty creased his forehead. He crossed to Edwardâs door and rattled the knob. âStill locked. Only you and Valentina have a key.â
Lucyâs door opened across the hall. Her sleep-dazed face peeked through the crack. âJuliet? I thought I heard a scream.â
Mrs.
Learning to Kill: Stories