These Vicious Masks: A Swoon Novel(80)
I spotted a foot. I tasted blood as I bit my knuckles, holding back unhelpful yelps of panic. On my knees, peering between the table legs and equipment, I could see just a sliver of her body lying still by the sink. Instinctively, I was across the room and by her side.
Dear God. Please be all right. Please.
My fingers felt for her pulse and found it—slow but still beating. My stifled sigh of relief came out quivering. Staying low in my crouched position, I struggled to pull her out quietly while a wild and furious Robert occupied Dr. Beck with his unceasing shouts.
“Where is she?” Robert yelled.
“That’s none of your concern,” Dr. Beck coolly replied as he dodged the many flailing attacks. Finally deciding he’d had enough, the scientist plucked Robert’s swinging fist straight out of the air, and with his other hand he seized a nearby glass rod. He smashed it across Robert’s head and let him drop to the floor.
The glass tinkled to the ground like rain, joining the thunderous thud of Robert’s body. Then complete silence, except for my quiet panting and a startling burst of laughter. Dr. Beck already knew I was here.
“Miss Wyndham, no need to worry about your friend there. She’s just been sedated.” Smiling and snaking around tables, he wandered toward me. “My congratulations on your speedy recovery.”
His face showed no surprise at the sight of me, but I better understood Mr. Kent’s theory. Dr. Beck had only recently discovered that I had these powers and that I had survived. It left me with one last question: How recently?
“And you claim to know everything?” I snapped. He ignored me, but I persisted. “If you knew everything I was going to do—”
“I quite understand your point. There is no need to repeat it. Perhaps there are some things that I did not know. You may call them faults, but I prefer to see them as progress. The entire basis of science is founded upon making mistakes,” he said, shoving something into his pocket as he approached. He pointed to the ceiling. “Your sister was one such example. There have been some fascinating developments since you and I last spoke.”
I stood up and drew back from him, but there was only so far I could retreat. I considered running, but no. I could not leave them. For lack of a better plan, I continued to back away from the short, slim, and terrifying man.
Then my back hit the wall. He stopped directly in front of me. I endeavored to dash to the left, to the right, but he was always blocking the way. His abilities were all too apparent. He predicted my exact movements and in an instant grasped my face, holding it as tight as a vise. “I’m sure you’ll be as surprised as us to know that your sister was never the healer we believed her to be.”
I tried to slap him, but his other hand seized my arm before I even raised it. He shoved me down, and my shoulder struck the floor hard. Wincing, I forced the pain away.
“Y-you’re lying,” I managed.
“No. I am not. Miss Rosamund has an entirely different ability. It’s not so obvious, which is why it took so long for anyone to discover, but that makes it no less intriguing. You see, the girl can charm the breeches right off of you!” He laughed heartily at himself.
“As her sister, you know her far better than me. In the past two years, has there been a single person carrying the slightest bit of ill will toward her?”
He knelt over me, pulling a syringe from his pocket, and I lost my breath. I thrashed my arms to strike him, but he caught one while dodging the other. My legs rose up to kick him and hit only air as he twisted around my limbs before I could process what happened. The needle pierced my arm, and he pushed the plunger and emptied the contents. He grinned as he stood back up, leaving me prostrate on the floor.
I staggered back to my feet, trying not to vomit.
“Miss Rosamund’s gift has always been to charm. I gather it was why she was able to earn her reputation for your healing. Her voice—even her quiet presence—has a captivating effect, and anyone around your sister will, in simple terms, love her. How that love manifests itself varies from person to person, but in every case, it compels everyone to act with her best interests in mind.”
Was that why Mr. Hale helped us? No, no, Dr. Beck was lying. Trying to distract me. There was no way we were all so mistaken.
“You would never have been able to kidnap and hold her if that was true,” I replied.
“Ah, a clever point. But that’s because she did not train and develop her power. It was not as strong as it could potentially be, and we were able to resist. Granted, I’d never felt more abominable about myself than when I was testing her healing abilities and putting her through all that pain. At the time, I even believed I was growing weak and sentimental, but now I know that it was actually my strong will and determination that made the difference.
“Even Claude, loyal as he is, tried to convince me to let her go. That’s how I first made the discovery. And then I tested my hypothesis on Mr. Hale by telling him about the surgery I planned to perform. That very evening, I caught him attempting to help her escape.” He laughed shortly—staccato, mad. “I feel so foolish for thinking she was holding back her healing out of stubbornness.”
Something felt strange. The room blurred. My legs went limp and gave out, sending me toppling to the floor like a rag doll. Dr. Beck’s voice still resonated in my aching head.
“But we had a new problem this morning: We were left without a healer. Then you arrive here and brighten up my day, Miss Wyndham. If I were a religious man, I would thank someone for guiding you to me.”