Page 58 of Her Creation

“He had a miniature of two women in his waistcoat pocket; the younger one had your eyes. His…injuries looked consistent with—” A heavy sob from Victoria paused his words. “With why you might’ve struggled with the stairs earlier. I would be honored to carry you up and down every flight of stairs for the rest of your life if you wish.”

She tried to take a step back, away from the overly observant man, before she completely unraveled, but he slid his hand down from where it lay on her forearm and clasped her small hand, keeping her from moving away.

It was too much. She came apart completely, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

The next thing she knew, her body was wrapped in warmth and darkness and the feeling of safety. She let herself breathe in the soft oakmoss scent before logic filtered in, and she pushed out of the man’s embrace despite wanting more than anything to stay tucked against him.

“N-no. You have my father’s beating heart.” She gasped, the cold air rough against her throat as she struggled to calm herself. “No.” This was wrong. So very, very wrong. He was an abomination that she had created and in doing so had killed her father. The beauty of her dreams and fantasies had vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled her heart in its place.

He looked as if he wanted to fight her and tuck her back into his body, but he clenched his jaw and sat back down.

She made small gasping sounds as she struggled with the last of the tests. Her fingers curled under his jaw and his eyes fluttered closed. She felt around his neck, noting the strength of his pulse. Prolonging her touch, she watched his face with curiosity, wondering what he would do if she squeezed. She could end his life right here. Would he fight her? It would be easier if he were gone. Feeling slightly deranged, she tightened her fingers around his windpipe.

His eyes opened at the pressure, but instead of fighting, he lifted his jaw, allowing her a better grip, his unblinking eyes holding hers. She tightened her grip and his gaze only turned softer as he watched her. Her hand pulled away as her chest rose and fell. He was going to let her do it. She was absolutely positive.

“You are mad in the head,” she whispered.

“I am not mad, not anymore. I am devoted to you. How are you going to do it?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “As you read, my father was supposed to do it.”

He nodded. “It wasn’t your fault, you have to know that, Victoria, my love.”

Her eyes snapped to his like lightning to a metal rod at the sound of her name on his tongue with the word love.

“I—I know what it’s like to have the only person you care about die in your arms—because of something you did.” Emotion tightened his throat. His eyes fell on the flame nearest them.

Victoria’s eyes fell closed at the pain she heard in his voice.

He did still have his memories—at least some of them. It didn’t sound like it was a good thing, though.

“Excessive opium,” she stated, finally making the decision. “It will be painless.” Simple and not violent.

His eyes flared before they caught hers in quiet understanding. “I bet you know a lot of ways to kill someone, don’t you?”

She shook her head. “Mostly how to bring them back—or stop them from dying in the first place.” She took in the warm amber yellow of his eyes as she recalled what her father had told her about the Wraith of Serbia. “You know a lot of ways to kill someone, though.”

A muscle in his jaw flared. “None painless.”

A shiver crawled up her spine. Victoria’s pulse picked up. Nervously. Excitedly. Shamefully. “Why aren’t you trying to hurt me? You could escape right now and be free.”

He pulled back. “I would never hurt you, only hurt for you. You are the reason I hold breath in my lungs again. I am your Adam. There is no escaping you, only torture when I am away from you.”

Victoria recoiled at his intimate words. She hated how they crawled into her vacant, cold chest, heating it. “I am not your Eve.”

“No,” he returned. “You are my god.”

A heavy tension filled the space between them for a moment before a ringing sound filled the distance. Victoria’s heart slammed in her chest.

The bell.

It tolled again.

“What is that?” Innominatus said, standing from the table.

“The bell at the gate. A patient is here to see my father.” The timing could not have been worse. Now she was faced with decisions she was not ready to make yet.

“Victoria.”