A Darkness Strange and Lovely (Something Strange and Deadly #2)(85)

The light flashed more brightly, a yellow stream across my vision.

Then the water shifted and fresh cold swirled over me. It shoved my lips apart, rushing into my mouth, into my chest.

Someone grabbed my wrists . . . someone pulled me up. . . .

But whoever it was was too late. My world had already twisted into nothing.

“Empress, breathe!”

A force slammed into my belly, and I doubled up, coughing. Dying. Water sprayed from my mouth.

“Breathe, dammit!”

Hands clamped over my face, a mouth pressed against mine, and breath blasted into my throat.

Like a knife was in my chest, I choked on this air that was not mine. But then it came again, searing my lungs. My body convulsed, and with a desperate wheeze, my chest heaved.

Real air slid in. But it wasn’t enough.

“The corset is too tight.” The voice sounded like Joseph’s.

“Give me your knife, then,” Daniel said. “I’ll cut her out of it.”

“You cannot—”

“She’ll die, Joseph. Give me the goddamned knife.”

Then came the sound of ripping cloth . . . then the snap of breaking stays, until suddenly my ribs could move. My lungs could expand.

I coughed. Hands pressed to my belly, pumping. Water dribbled down the sides of my face. More coughing. More water, and then . . . more air.

I gulped it in, desperate and starving. It hurt, but I sucked in more and more. I opened my eyes, blinking as the world shifted into focus. A lantern beside me on wet flagstones . . . Joseph crouched by it with a white sack at his feet . . . and beams of light bouncing off black water.

I twisted my head and stared at Daniel—at his wet hair matted to his head and his bright, shining eyes.

“You,” I tried to say, but all that came out was a raw croak.

His arms slid around me and pulled me close. “Don’t talk, just breathe, Empress. Breathe.”

So I did. I sank into his arms and listened to his heart hammering against his ribs. For several, rasping breaths, we stayed this way, until a tremor of cold whipped through me. I realized that my dress and corset were gone; all I wore were my chemise and drawers.

I shook again, and Daniel drew back. Joseph shimmied out of his coat. They draped it over me, and then Daniel tugged me into his arms once more.

“What . . . what happened?” I managed to ask through my chattering teeth.

“You almost drowned,” Daniel murmured into my hair.

“B-but why? Wh-where are we?”

“Far beneath the Palais Garnier,” Joseph answered. “It would seem this theater connects to a series of underground tunnels. We heard your shouts and we followed. You ran into these cellars and to this reservoir. We called and called for you, Eleanor—did you not hear?”

I shook my head. Why would I have come under the theater? Why . . . why was I even at the Palais

Garnier in the first place?

“You were shoutin’ ‘Clarence,’” Daniel said. He brushed sopping hair from my face. “Why?”

“I . . . I don’t know.” I screwed my eyes shut. My head felt so foggy. Why couldn’t I remember anything?

Daniel hugged me closer. “You were actin’ so strange at the ball. So I brought you downstairs, told you to wait. By the time I found Joseph and got our things, you were already gone.”

I opened my eyes and stared at Daniel’s wet shirt. At the way it clung to his chest. He had to be just as freezing as I.

“Eleanor,” Joseph said, “you truly remember nothing? Not how you came to the ball or what you did there?”

I shook my head.

“Daniel told me Madame Marineaux declared herself your chaperone,” Joseph continued. “She was in charge of your dance card—and she would not let Daniel sign it.”

I pulled back, frowning up at Daniel. “I was dancing?”

“And acting quite the flirt.” His eyes roved over my face. “It . . . it wasn’t like you at all. I thought maybe you were under a spell.”

“A spell?” I looked to Joseph.

The Creole nodded. “It is possible. A compulsion spell would—”

“A compulsion spell!” Suddenly the discoveries I had made before the ball careened into my mind.

I wrenched away from Daniel’s arms. “The Marquis! H-his cane is an amulet, and I think it has seventy-four compulsion spells inside!”

Daniel’s face scrunched up. “What the devil are you talking about?”

“There have been seventy-four of les Morts, and there are seventy-four senators, and I swear, something about his cane isn’t right.”

“Empress, you’re speaking in gibberish.”

I forced myself to take a deep breath and slow down. And step by step, I explained why I thought the cane was an amulet.

When I finished, Joseph’s lips pinched tight. “Why do you believe they are compulsion spells?”

“Because les Morts have all had their ears and eyes removed, but they also had their tongues drained of blood. Oliver was able to sense what . . .”

At the demon’s name, both Daniel and Joseph stiffened. And at their reactions, the rest of my day rushed into my brain. I’d had no intention of attending the ball. No intention of staying in Paris. And no intention of ever seeing Daniel or Joseph again.