Tainted (The Soul Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Lyndown was a small farming community with an inn, telegraph office, and local sheriff. The coach rode past the few storefronts and stopped in front of the telegraph office, where a new team of horses waited.

  Kat stirred. She sat up and blinked her eyes. “Where are we?”

  Stephen reached for the door. “Halfway to World City, in a small town called Lyndown.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “Halfway to World City?”

  Stephen didn’t answer. They would grab a bite to eat before he went to see if Jerod had telegraphed back about Kat’s bounty. He wanted to give Kat a chance to explain herself first before he found out what the council had on her.

  The air felt warm and promised a hot day, one of the first of summer. The sky above was a bright blue, and the trees were already green and lush with foliage. Whitewashed buildings lined the single street through town, each with a sign posted from a pole above the front door.

  Stephen turned back toward the carriage and held a hand out to Kat. She wore a guarded look now as she reached for him. Her fingers were cold, like icicles.

  He frowned and helped her out of the carriage. Why was she so cold?

  He led her across the muddy street to a small inn. Inside there were a few tables and chairs, about five in all. Not where he wanted to have his conversation with Kat.

  “Wait here.” Before Kat could say anything he went in search of the proprietor in the back rooms. He paid for a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese, then rejoined Kat.

  She stood where he had left her, right beside the door, her hand curled in a fist and pressed to her chest, watching him with wide eyes. She had found something to tie her hair back, and now only a small strand followed the curve of her chin.

  “This way. I thought we could eat outside.” They had passed a small patch of wild grass at the edge of town. Seemed like a good place to eat and talk in private.

  Kat nodded, her lips unusually tight.

  She followed him to the end of the street, where an old black oak stood with tall grass fanned out beneath. He pulled out the bread and cheese, wrapped in paper, and handed the package to Kat. He went to take off his duster and paused, his hand near his revolver.

  He still had a couple of shots left.

  Stephen looked over his shoulder. Kat stood with the food near the tree, her gaze downward, her shoulders slumped as if she were carrying the world. She didn’t look like she would go all-powerful right there on the edge of the street. But then again . . .

  Stephen closed his eyes and let his breath out. “Don’t make me shoot you, Kat,” he whispered. He took off his duster and laid it across the grass. “Come, sit down.”

  She looked up and hesitated. The tension in the air was almost visible.

  “You need to eat.”

  Kat licked her lips. “Stephen, listen—”

  “We’ll get to that once we’ve eaten.”

  Stephen took the food from her and sat down on one corner of the coat. Kat sat down on the other side, careful to tuck her skirt around her legs and ankles.

  He opened the brown paper and offered her a chunk of bread.

  She took it and held it between her fingers.

  “Would you like some cheese?”

  Kat stared at the cheese as if she had never seen cheese before. Then she shook her head and looked away.

  Stephen shrugged and broke off the corner of the wedge and stuffed it inside the soft part of the bread. They ate in silence for a couple of minutes. Kat picked at her food while Stephen finished off his bread and the rest of the cheese.

  Finally, Kat laid her half-eaten chunk of bread back on the paper. “Can we talk now?”

  Stephen brushed his hands and dumped the crumbs in the grass. He wanted to know everything. And at the same time he didn’t. That . . . thing . . . she had become back in Covenshire was like nothing he had ever seen.

  He looked up. “Start talking.”

  26

  Even with the sun’s rays beating down on her back, Kat felt as cold as a winter’s night. The area around her heart had been numb since the moment she woke up inside the carriage. Just like the night after the gala. In the shop she had pressed her fist against her chest until her corset cut through her shirt and into her skin. Nothing.

  Only now did she feel a prickling sensation spreading across the area, as if her heart were thawing out from a deep chill.

  Kat sucked in her lips and looked away. Just another reminder that she was different. That something cold and dangerous dwelt inside her.

  And Stephen had seen it, all of it. Since that morning, every time he looked at her she could see it on his face: his fear, his revulsion, his reluctance. If he wondered in his innermost thoughts if she was a monster, he would be right. She was a monster. And the monster part of her was growing stronger by the day.

  He was waiting now for her to speak, but the bravado from minutes ago had vanished like a vapor in the wind. Her heart pounded inside, compounding the frigid ache. She wanted to rub the area, or press a heating pack to it, but she didn’t want to show any discomfort. She needed to be strong, confident, if she was going to convince Stephen she had this under control.

  Just another lie from the pit of hell.

  Stephen sat back, one hand behind, bracing him. “Tell me one thing.”

  Kat tried to swallow, but there was no moisture in her mouth. So she nodded instead.

  “Did you kill my aunt?”

  Kat blinked. What? She shook her head, more vigorously each second. “No, no. I had nothing to do with Ms. Stuart’s death.” Then she sucked in her lips. That wasn’t true. Ms. Stuart had gotten in the way of those hunting her just like Stephen had this morning.

  Stephen’s face grew hard. “You’re not telling the truth.”

  Kat flushed and gripped her fingers. “I am! That is, I never touched her.”

  Stephen continued to glare.

  “Please, I would’ve never hurt Ms. Stuart!” But that wasn’t true either. That one time, when she pulled everything in the room, she had almost hurt Ms. Stuart. She closed her eyes. Oh God.

  “Then what happened that night?”

  She let her breath out through her nose. “I don’t know.” She opened her eyes and stared back at Stephen. “People were pounding on the door. Ms. Stuart told me to run and to find you. I swear, Stephen, that is all I know!”

  “You don’t know who was at the door?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  Stephen stroked his beard, his cold stare focused on her.

  She wanted to turn away and hide, but she held still.

  “Did my aunt know about . . . about you?”

  The time for the truth had come. Her hands began to shake, but she held them tight. Her insides felt like they were going to spill out. “Yes.” The word barely came out.

  He sat up. “She knew what you could do?”

  “Yes.”

  Stephen’s eyes widened. “Does anyone else?”

  Kat licked her lips. “I don’t know.” However, chances were yes, after the night of the gala when she set Blaylock on fire. The night Ms. Stuart told her to run.

  Did her father know? Was he the one hunting her down? Or the World City police? Did they know she set the hall on fire, and those men?

  Kat gripped her throat and looked at Stephen. He stared back, unreadable. What would Stephen do with her now?

  “What did you do back there?” His voice was cold and hard.

  “I—I don’t know.”

  He arched one eyebrow.

  Kat dropped her hand and looked down at her lap. She worked her sweaty fingers, her face flushing under his gaze. Her heart beat so fast it felt like it would burst from her chest. Her middle clenched hard and her throat dried out. How did she explain the monster inside her?

  She raise
d her chin slightly and glanced at Stephen. “When I am angry, or afraid, or feel something strongly, something happens inside here.” She made a fist and held it against her heart. “And then I make things happen. It’s been like that all my life. And each time it happens, it feels like something is dying inside me.”

  She looked away, unable to watch Stephen’s reactions, or lack thereof. “For years Ms. Stuart helped me keep my feelings under control. Most of the time I succeeded, or was at least able to bring my emotions back before . . .” She took a deep breath. “I only lost control twice in Ms. Stuart’s care. But lately . . .”

  She heard Stephen shift across the coat. “So every time you feel some strong emotion, you can throw men against the wall? With your mind? How is that even possible?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Neither did your aunt. During my time at the academy, I spent a lot of weekends in the library, researching, trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I found nothing.”

  “What about this doctor you’re looking for? Does he know what’s wrong with you?”

  She shrugged again and stared down at the coat. “I don’t know.”

  “Then why find him?”

  Kat shot around. “Because he’s the only one who might have an idea!” The cold lump inside her chest started thumping. Oh no. No, no, no! She held her hand against the top of her corset and turned away. Breathe, Kat, breathe.

  “Is it happening now?”

  She licked her lips and nodded. It didn’t seem to matter how much she kept herself under control. The monster wanted out, and it was finding more opportunities to do so.

  A coach came riding by. Neither she nor Stephen spoke. The coach continued through the small town and disappeared in the distance. Silence descended between them.

  “Have you ever hurt someone?”

  Her cheeks burned at his question, but she didn’t answer. She could only imagine what he was thinking.

  “Have you ever killed someone?”

  She didn’t answer that one either. She didn’t know. Ms. Stuart said she didn’t kill anyone that night, but some of the young men had been burned, one badly. Did he survive?

  “Are you even human?”

  Kat watched a couple of wild daisies wave nearby in the warm breeze and brought her hand down. “I believe so.” But no living human could do what she could do. She felt more like a lab mistake than a human being. Her throat tightened at the thought. Maybe she was one. But how?

  Could her father have possibly . . .?

  No. Not even he would have stooped to such low depths.

  Would he?

  Kat drew her legs up beneath her skirt and wrapped her arms around her body. Her father was cold and calculating, and never had anything to do with her. If she had really been an experiment of his, he would have been a part of her life. At least to study her. He wouldn’t have just let her live her life.

  Bile filled her mouth. That much she knew about her father. His obsession with his work. He would have been obsessed with her too. Unless . . . unless he never knew about her. She looked up. That was entirely possible. It would explain why he left her to Ms. Stuart to raise while he went about his “great work” for World City. He really didn’t know.

  “So you believe this Dr. Latimer can make you better?”

  Kat twisted the edge of her skirt between her fingers, bringing her mind back. “I hope so. He’s the only option I have left.”

  “But what about your father? The Tower? Couldn’t they help you?”

  Before Kat could answer, there was a whistle from the town square. Both of them looked back toward the town. Stephen glanced at the coach they had arrived in, then toward the buildings that lined the main street. He stood and brushed his pants. “We need to go.”

  Kat unwrapped her arms and slowly stood. She felt like she was going to retch.

  Stephen never looked at her. Instead, he gathered up his coat, gave it a good shake, then hung it over one arm.

  She pulled at her fingers, her chest tight. Go on, ask him. The worst he can do is say no. “So will you still help me?”

  Stephen shrugged, his back still to her. “I’m not sure yet.”

  Kat dropped her hand and pressed it against her abdomen. She should leave. Now. Before things got worse. She could catch the train and head west to Cathage—

  Tears welled up in her eyes. I don’t want to be alone. God, if you can hear me, please help me! She looked up at the bright blue sky and puffy white clouds. Maybe God didn’t like monsters. After all, if he was God, he had seen everything she had done. Perhaps she deserved to be discarded—

  “Are you coming?”

  Kat looked back and found Stephen waiting for her, that same unreadable look on his face.

  Her mouth fell open. “You still want me to come?”

  “I’m not going to leave you in Lyndown.”

  Kat blinked. It wasn’t quite the answer she was looking for, but she would take anything right now, if it meant not being alone and left here.

  She gathered up her skirt and caught up to him. He turned around and headed into town.

  Near the coach, Stephen stopped and spun around. “I need to check on a telegram. Wait here.”

  Kat nodded, almost afraid Stephen would leave and disappear forever. He crossed the dirt street and headed into the tiny, whitewashed telegraph office.

  She stood beside the carriage, the sun’s rays warming her back and head. Maybe God did care about her. Stephen was still here, even after what he had witnessed her do back in Covenshire, and heard her story.

  It was a small comfort, but she clung to it. It was all she had.

  27

  Stephen stepped into the small telegraph office. Sunlight streamed through the window that overlooked the street outside, highlighting the dust motes in the air. A small man sat behind the counter, his white hair carefully combed to the side. His wire rim spectacles sat low on his nose, but he made no effort to push them up as he continued to tap his fingers across an apparatus covered in ivory keys. The bronze plated machine was connected to the wall by a dozen wires. Next to it sat an additional machine on which a paper tape continuously rolled as a set of typebars printed incoming messages.

  “Is there a telegram for Stephen Grey from Jerod Martinson?”

  The clerk looked up, studied Stephen, then bent over his desk and ruffled through a small stack of notes to his left. “Ah, yes.” He pulled a note out and looked at Stephen again. “From World City, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  The clerk stood and handed the note over the counter. Beneath the heading were four sentences:

  Substantial live bounty on Kathryn Bloodmayne set by World City council.

  Suspect wanted for murder of two sons of lesser noble houses and the burning of Blaylock Sterling.

  Patrick said you turned down the case.

  Is she with you now?

  Stephen stared at the middle sentence, a chill racing through his core. Murder. Kat had murdered two young men. And burned Blaylock Sterling.

  He reread the sentence twice more before it finally sank in. There was no reason for Jerod to send him a false note. And he remembered Patrick saying something about that case—something about Blaylock Sterling and the fire at the gala—the day he walked in to the precinct to inquire about his aunt’s murder. At the time he hadn’t been interested in taking on a case.

  He held the paper tight. If only he’d known then what he knew now.

  “Everything all right?”

  Stephen looked up and found the clerk staring at him. “What? Oh, yes.” He folded the paper and placed it in the pocket of his duster, adrenaline still racing through his body.

  “Do you want to send an answer back?”

  “Give me a minute.” Stephen walked over to the window and looked toward the carriage. Ka
t stood where he had left her, her arms around her body, looking like a lost little kitten.

  Yesterday he would have scoffed at the telegram. Yesterday there was no way a young woman like Kat could have done what the telegram said she did. Murder? Burning?

  But after what he had seen that morning, he could well believe it.

  Blazes, how could he have fallen for another dishonest woman? Did every woman lie? Granted, Kat was trying to find a cure for whatever was wrong with her. But she lied! To him!

  If only she had just told him the truth.

  Would you have believed her?

  He snorted. Probably not.

  But that didn’t change anything. His hands began to shake. He didn’t care about the bounty’s amount. Not this time. Kat had deceived him.

  Stephen no longer saw Kat or the coach outside. Instead, he saw Vanessa, sitting there in Harrison’s bed, the coverlet pulled up to her neck.

  He spun around, his heart beating madly, and headed back to the counter. He had his answer.

  You know what they’re going to do to her. They’re going to lock her up so tight that she will never be seen again.

  Stephen clenched his hands. I don’t care. She’s dangerous.

  A fire burned inside his chest, replacing the chill from moments ago. He would never let a woman lie to him again. Kat would go back to World City. Besides, perhaps if he took her back, someone could help her with . . . whatever this was. Yes. It was both good for her and society.

  He turned around and approached the clerk. “I’m ready to send back my answer.”

  A few minutes later, he returned to the coach. The sun beat down across his head and shoulders, but the warmth never reached his heart.

  Unwilling to alert Kat to his plan, he gave her a curt nod as he approached. “Ready to go?”

  She rubbed her elbows. “I think so. But why are we going back to World City? And why were those men after us? Do they have something to do with Ms. Stuart’s . . .?” She shivered and looked away. “Won’t they follow us back?”

  “There is a new lead I need to follow up on.”