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While he’d been stumbling around, he’d somehow knocked the incinerator door aside. Flames and gasoline didn’t mix well. Unless creating a fire or explosion was the goal. I spun around, dragging my battered body to the door. I’d lock him in and never look back.
I’d made it to the skeleton room, wrenched a femur from the victim he’d yet to string together, and slammed the door shut, sealing him in with the fire. I stared as smoke gathered and slipped out from the cracks around the threshold. It would be so easy to leave him here to burn. It was what he deserved. Police would think it was an accident. I would be free.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, wincing at the pain.
He began screaming. I stared at the bone I held. Tell me, Miss Wadsworth, how many have you killed? he’d jeered. The satisfaction of making him pay for his crimes would be great, but if I became his judge and executioner, I’d be robbing the families of his victims of their right to see him stand trial for his crimes. Though it might be worth it just to feel him bleed.
My choice should have been easy, but I’d be lying if I said it was. Through the darkness something Thomas had once said came back to me, a flickering beacon of light to cling to. I will not become a monster for you. I would not become Holmes’s monster, either.
“I am my own monster.” And it was time to slay that wretched part once and for all.
With a growl that tore at my throat again, I yanked the door open, coughing at the black, rancid smoke billowing out. Holmes was on the flooring, wheezing. I gritted my teeth and rushed to him, shoving my hands under his arms and pulling with strength I didn’t know I had.
Our procession was long and the sweltering heat from the angry flames made it more difficult. I could scarcely breathe in the endless smoke. I managed to drag him into the room farthest from the incinerator and swiped the keys from the inside of his waistcoat. I fumbled until I found one that opened the lock. I glanced back at him, but he was no longer incapacitated by the smoke. He had rolled onto his side, his cold gaze locked onto me once more. I had seconds before he’d come for me again, and I would not survive another skirmish.
I stumbled into the corridor, fighting tears as pain shot up my leg. I couldn’t stop moving, though. Tears slipped over my cheeks, each step more painful than the last. I had no idea if I was traveling in the right direction, but I hoped the stairwell led somewhere good.
Pain pounded in my head and my leg, overriding my thoughts. All I could concentrate on was to keep moving, keep going. I swore I heard Holmes shuffling behind me, but I refused to turn. I saw a hint of light at the end of a corridor and used it as a guide.
Life distilled into two all-consuming elements: pain and light. I had no idea how I made it outside. I wasn’t even sure if I exited from the pharmacy or if a hole had been gouged in a wall. One moment I was traversing through darkness; the next I was blinking at the setting sun. It was so jarring, I froze in place. I didn’t trust that this was real. Wind whipped smoke away.
Flames roared behind me and the ground shook. I turned in time to see a wall collapse. Rubble scattered not ten paces from where I stood. If I’d been another minute behind, I would have been crushed. Dust flew into the space around me and I couldn’t stop from choking on it. Part of me wanted to curl up on the ground right there.
In the distance, I heard sirens wail. My teeth began to chatter.
“Wadsworth!”
I shielded my eyes against the brightness of the sun and squinted through the thick covering of dust. It seemed winter had been banished while I traipsed through Hell. Or perhaps this was Heaven. And Thomas was coming to greet me at the pearly gates. My heart stopped for a moment—If I hadn’t died… Thomas was out of bed. He was well.
I staggered forward, then stopped. Ash and soot rained around me, making it almost impossible to breathe. There was so much debris, I couldn’t see more than distant shapes and silhouettes. But I needed to get to that voice—that tether attached to my soul.
“Audrey Rose!” Thomas shouted, running so hard and fast I almost jumped from his path. He broke through the smoke like an avenging angel and scooped me into his arms, tears streaming as he kissed me everywhere. “Are you all right? I thought—if he’d…” I nodded and he clutched me tightly to his chest, his heart pounding against me. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I went mad with fear, imagining all the ways you might have been harmed.” He ran his hands over me, as if convincing himself I was real. “The thought of never seeing you again, never hearing your voice or watching you elbows-deep in viscera—it nearly killed me. If he’d hurt you I would have—”
He would have turned into the monsters we fought.
“You’re alive!” I kissed him, long and deep. I poured each emotion into it, each flutter of longing and passion and apology. Each moment I thought I might never see him again. Never hold him near. Never thread my hands through his hair or feel his body mold itself perfectly against mine. I pulled him closer, and his grip on me tightened as if he might never let me go, so long as I wished to stay.
I heard others join us, but society and propriety and everything else be damned. I didn’t care who saw me kissing the man I loved. Uncle barked orders to the police and Noah, drawing my attention briefly. “Grab Holmes. He’s crawling away.”
Several men—including our friend—rushed to the murderer, who’d fallen to his knees, choking on the smoke. His murder castle was no more. He would never harm another young woman again. I didn’t end his life, but I had ended his life of murder. It was a victory I’d cherish.
Noah glanced over at us and nodded, his expression mirroring the emotions I felt as he helped drag the murderer away.
“Wadsworth?” Thomas to
uched my face as if he still couldn’t believe I was real. Before I could inquire about anything, his mouth claimed mine once more. We kissed as if our lives began and ended in that embrace. The devil hunted the White City no longer. I’d stopped him.
I held tightly to Thomas, trembling as my actions finally caught up and shock wore off. Or perhaps my shudders were the result of it being winter in Chicago and I was only in a nightgown. Thomas swiftly removed his jacket and placed it around me.
“I almost killed him,” I confessed, my voice breaking. “I almost became the evil we fight against. I…”
Thomas placed his hands on either side of my face, his gaze straying to the gash in my head. I’d forgotten I was covered in my blood and Holmes’s.
“But you didn’t,” Thomas said. “Were I in your position, I’m not sure I’d be able to lay the same claim. You are far stronger than I am, my love. Don’t doubt your actions now.”
I stared into his loving eyes. He was right. I couldn’t dwell on what could have been, on a temporary weakness. In the end, I remembered who I was. I buried my face in his chest, never wanting to leave his side again. “It’s finally over.”
“And you went and had all the fun on your own again,” he said, feigning injury. “It really is quite inconsiderate of you.”
