The Heartless City (33 page)

His father was standing before him.

lliot, Iris, Virginia, Andrew, Philomena, and Albert were crammed together inside a barred carriage, and Elliot could hardly breathe for the fear in the small, enclosed space.

“I don’t understand,” Iris said as they jostled against their seats. “How did they find us?”

“Anyone could have followed us from Mansion House,” Philomena replied. “Perhaps they’ve been following Albert and I ever since we left the palace.” She closed her eyes, guilt swimming up into her throat. “It’s all my fault.”

“Of course it’s not your fault,” Andrew said. “If it weren’t for you, we’d still be locked in that dungeon.”

“It’s nobody’s fault.”

Everyone turned to look at Virginia, who hadn’t said a word since the guards burst into her flat.

“It was only a matter of time before they found me,” she said softly. “I’m just sorry the rest of you had be a part of this.”

She glanced at Elliot, and he winced when he felt her regret. Perhaps after watching his father turn a blind eye to his arrest, she felt guilty for assuming he was the enemy at first. Elliot had screamed for his father’s help the moment he saw him, but although his chest had cracked with pain, his father had turned away.

“All hope isn’t lost,” Iris said. “At least they took us alive.”

“Yes,” Philomena responded, rolling her eyes. “We’re not dead
yet
.”

“Where do you think they’re taking us?” Andrew asked. “Back to the palace?”

Elliot sucked in a breath, trying to fight the fear and focus. “Wherever it is, I’ll talk to my father as soon as we arrive. He has no idea the Lord Mayor’s making the drug and infecting the public.”

“How do you know?” Iris asked.

“The Lord Mayor told me himself just before you burst into the dungeon, and since he believed I’d be dead soon he didn’t have any reason to lie. If I can get my father to listen―”

“But the Lord Mayor also said your father hasn’t really been looking for a cure all these years,” Andrew said. “I’m sorry, Elliot, but even if he doesn’t know the scope of the Lord Mayor’s crimes, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll side with us once he does.”

“Iris,” Elliot said, not ready to face that possibility. “Do you think you could break your thumbs to free yourself from your handcuffs again?”

She nodded. “Yes. They’re mostly the same as the ones I escaped before. But I’ll wait until the right time, so they won’t see me as a threat.”

“So our plan then,” Philomena said, “is for Elliot to talk to his father and pray he believes his story, and if that fails, for Iris to take out a group of fully-armed guards?”

None of them responded, but the silence spoke for itself.

“All right,” she said with a nod. “As long as everyone’s on the same page.”

Eventually, the carriage did arrive at Buckingham Palace, and the guards pulled them out, lined them up, and ushered them into the empty Grand Hall. Elliot’s skin was slick with sweat, but that didn’t help him escape the cuffs that bound his wrists behind him. In fact, the more his pulse climbed, the more his bonds seemed to tighten, and something about the Grand Hall only increased his anxiety. Maybe it was the red and golden room’s imposing grandeur, or his carefree memories of playing there as a child. Either way, he’d certainly never dreamed he’d be brought there in chains.

After a moment, his father appeared and descended the Grand Staircase, where Iris first collided with the Lord Mayor a week ago. He avoided Elliot’s gaze as he reached the bottom step, hurrying toward the guards as if the rest of them weren’t there.

“Spread throughout the palace and inform the servants and courtiers to stay away,” he said. “No one may approach until the Lord Mayor has arrived.”

The guards obeyed, leaving him alone with the prisoners, and as soon as the last one was gone, Elliot spoke.

“Father, please listen―”

“Don’t say another word,” he said, still avoiding Elliot’s gaze, unable to mask the pain and fear in his voice. “Not another word.”

“But Father, there’s something you need to know,” he insisted, starting toward him, but then his father drew and raised his pistol.

“I said don’t move.” His hand was trembling, and his heart was cracking in two, but he kept the gun at eye level. “You’ve already done enough.”

“What has he done?” Iris asked. “What have any of us done?”

Elliot’s father clenched his jaw and shifted his gaze to Iris. “Harboring a fugitive. Treason as well, I suspect.”

“What fugitive?”

“You know damn well. Your mother, Virginia Carroll.” He stepped a bit closer, looking at Virginia. “You almost got away with it. Until a week ago, I truly believed that you were dead.”

“Why is she a fugitive?” Andrew asked. “What’s her crime?”

“Unauthorized scientific research, aiding and abetting Hydes, espionage against the Lord Mayor.”

“Frank,” Virginia said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know more than you think,” he replied, anger penetrating his fear. “When I heard Philomena tell this footman to go to Iris’s address, I sent guards to trail them both, because I knew my suspicions were right. The moment your daughter opened her mouth she reminded me of you―her accent, her voice, her cool intelligence, even her hair―and I knew if she was yours, she wasn’t here by accident. I wasn’t surprised you’d try to somehow infiltrate the palace; the only thing that surprised me was whose eyes your daughter had.”

Virginia stared at the floor in shame, and Elliot’s father stepped closer.

“I knew you were close with Jekyll,” he said, spitting the name with disgust, “but I never guessed how close. Perhaps you even helped him to create that evil serum.”

“Father, stop!” Elliot cried, wounded by the bolt of pain that shot through Virginia’s chest, and his father turned to him, stunned and shaken by the outburst. “You’re right,” he continued, gritting his teeth against Virginia’s anguish. “Iris is the daughter of Virginia and Dr. Jekyll, but that’s because Dr. Jekyll raped Virginia when he was a Hyde.”

His father’s lips parted. “Well, perhaps that’s what she
claims
.”

“Think about it,” Elliot said. “How else could Iris heal herself exactly like a Hyde? It’s because she was conceived while her father was on the drug. Virginia had no idea what Dr. Jekyll had created, or what a monstrous person he really was until that night.”

Pity swarmed his father’s heart. As a scientist, he couldn’t deny the logical explanation, but he strove against it, setting his jaw and gripping the gun even tighter.

“That doesn’t change the fact that Virginia broke the law. And so did you, by helping her daughter to infiltrate the palace.”

“I had no idea who Iris really was until today. But even if I had, I would have helped her however I could, because she came here to prove the thing that I’ve been trying to tell you.” He paused and took a breath. “The Lord Mayor’s been making the drug and infecting the people of London.”

The blood drained from his father’s face. “Elliot, how―how dare you? That’s not only absurd, it’s
treason
!”

“It’s true, and we found proof this morning, over at Mansion House. He’s also been experimenting on Hydes in the old jail cells.”

His father shook his head. “That can’t be true. There’s some mistake.”

“No mistake. He told us himself, and then he tried to kill us.”

Ice slid through his father’s veins, and Elliot shivered but clenched his fists behind him and pushed through the fear.

“The Lord Mayor locked Iris and me in the basement with Andrew this morning. He thought that Andrew would kill us, because he infected him last night.”

His father’s panic spiked just as Virginia’s had at the news, and he swung the gun in Andrew’s direction.

“Andrew is a Hyde?”

“Not any more,” Elliot said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He
was
a Hyde, but now he’s cured, because of Iris’s blood.”

“What?” his father breathed, his eyes going wide. “Did you say… cured?”

“Iris’s blood is the antidote,” Virginia explained, feeling strengthened. “Because she was conceived while her father was infected.”

Elliot’s father blinked and lowered his gun in disbelief. Then, slowly, his heart erupted with something Elliot hadn’t ever felt from him before:

Joy.

But then, almost immediately, a wave of grief rose up and devoured the newfound bliss, and his father embraced the pain and fought the joy with all his might.

“Why are you doing that?” Elliot asked.

“What?”

“Fighting your joy.”

His father’s face reddened. “Stay out of my feelings.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Then at least have the decency to shut your mouth and ignore them!”

Silence swelled between them, and his father turned away, but then Elliot sucked in a breath and spoke.

“I’m sorry, but no.”

His father turned around, his blood running cold. “What did you say?”

“You’ve been ignoring your feelings ever since Mother’s death,” he said, wincing as the word passed his lips and sliced through both their hearts. “And ever since I injected myself with that serum, I’ve done the same thing, but I’m through ignoring my feelings and the feelings of those around me. I don’t want to live the cold, half-life you’ve lived for the last five years.”

“How―how dare you.”

“When feelings get buried, so does the truth,” he continued. “The truth is what I want and what I am going to give to you. The Lord Mayor told me you didn’t know he’d been infecting the public, but he also said you haven’t really been looking for a cure.”

His father froze, his face going pale, and Elliot’s stomach sank, but he kept his voice and his gaze steady.

“Father, is it true?”

Silence filled the room again, and his father glanced at his feet. Then, after a moment, he gritted his teeth and murmured, “Yes.”

Elliot’s throat went dry, and he shook his head. “Why not?”

“Because they don’t deserve it!” his father shouted, flushing with rage. “After all the lives they’ve taken and all the misery they’ve caused, why should they be allowed to simply return to their everyday lives?”

“They didn’t
choose
to be monsters.”

“Elliot, one of them murdered your mother!”

“But, Father, a cure―”

“Would be a reward for the beast who took her away!”

The world slowed to a halt, and Elliot parted his arid lips. His father’s grief was as massive and torrential as a hurricane, but rather than clouding his vision, the storm made everything suddenly clear.

“Oh God,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I understand.”

“You understand what?”

“Why you’ve pushed me away and tried so hard not to love me.”

His father’s face blanched. “Elliot, shut your mouth right now.”

“It was your grief. It was so intense, so terrible and devastating, that you were afraid of feeling the same way again if you lost me.”

“I told you to stop!” he cried, raising his gun with a trembling hand.

“Father, I loved her, too. I know exactly how you feel.”

“You have no idea―” his father began, but then he clenched his jaw.

“I understand why you’ve done what you’ve done,” Elliot continued. “But do you honestly think that she would want you to live this way? To push me away and reject the only part of her that’s left? To avenge her death by denying a cure to a desperate, suffering city?”