I slid out of my coat and left it hanging over a branch, then fumbled to open the top buttons of my dress. Sweat was already forming on my inner layers. Somewhere, the line between this world and another blurred.
I was back in the jungle.
The hiss of steam jets replaced the ocean tides. Machinery squealed like jungle birds. Steam filled my lungs with memories: Jaguar, with his flicking tail; the smell of burning refuse and unwashed animals in the islanders’ village; the salt in the breeze. In a strange way I missed the island terribly, heartsick for a place I’d hated and a father I’d wanted to die.
No—a father I’d helped murder.
“Edward?” I called as loud as I dared, uncertain if it was an enormous mistake to come here.
A chain rattled overhead. Iron catwalks spanned the ceiling where visitors could walk among the treetops, and a well-dressed figure now descended the spiral staircase. Edward stopped a few feet from me, as quiet as the steam at our feet.
“Hello, Juliet.”
Being here, in this place so reminiscent of the island, beastly things stirred inside me, taking me back to the island where we had learned to move through the trees quiet as animals, where he’d kissed me behind the waterfall. My pulse quickened, hungry for those things again despite my better sense.
He stepped forward, toying with his gold pocket watch, and I stepped back. “I told you, for the time being I’m still stronger than him. I can fight him if I feel him coming on. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“What about that thief girl, and Annie, and the others? You were quick enough to kill them.”
“I’m sorry for them, truly. When the Beast does take over, I lose myself to him.”
“Why only kill people who have done wrong to me?”
A flicker of confusion passed over his features. “You’ll have to ask the Beast that question; he’s the one who chose them.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“He seems to know my memories, but I only share slips of his. The next day I read the newspaper headlines about three slashes to the chest, and I assume he was responsible. I knew the solicitor was an acquaintance of yours, but not the others. I had assumed they were random.”
“Random? Each one of them committed a crime against me.”
Edward’s face softened. “That explains it, then. I hadn’t realized why he was so intent on those particular kills. He’s trying to protect you, in his own way.”
“Protect me? Why?”
He regarded me strangely for the space of a few breaths, where I wondered if I was crazy to be here and not to try to kill him on sight. He said, “Because he’s as much in love with you as I am.”
My lips parted, though no words came. I paced over a path between soft spring-green ferns, trying to process everything. Emotions had never come easy to me, and they now threaded themselves in knots I couldn’t possibly unravel. “Killing is a choice. Can’t he just stop?”
“You wouldn’t ask that question if you understood how powerful he is. He’d like to kill everyone who crosses his path, but he’s tried to restrain himself and, I suppose, kill only those who sought to harm you.” He paused. “I try to keep him contained—look.”
His wiry fingers went to his shirt cuff. I couldn’t help but notice how his knuckles were swollen and knobby, so like my own when a bout of illness was coming on. He unbuttoned his cuff and rolled back his sleeve over his forearm, revealing dark bruises.
I gasped. The bruises ranged from dark blue to purple to a yellowing gray, a rainbow of pain mixed with fresh cuts. I could barely tear my eyes off of their strange beauty when he reached for his shirt buttons. “I chain myself if I feel him coming out, but sometimes I’m not fast enough, or he breaks the lock.” He opened his shirt to reveal his bare chest. Welts and bruises slashed his skin. I traced them with my eyes, entranced.
I swallowed. “Edward . . .”
He pulled back on his shirt and rolled down the sleeves. “I’m showing you because I want you to understand the lengths I’ll go to in order to cure myself. I don’t want to hurt anyone else, you least of all. I was as surprised as you were when you walked into Lucy’s parlor today. I knew you two were very close, but if I had known you were coming by, I’d never have gone today.”
“What are you doing with her?” I asked. “You shouldn’t ever have introduced yourself to her. And now she’s practically ready to run away with you—what kind of madness is this?”
“An act, nothing more,” he said, taking an uncertain step toward me. “She’s a fine young woman, but I’m only posing as her suitor to get closer to her father. Juliet, I couldn’t ever love anyone besides—”
“Stop,” I said, throwing up a hand. “Please, Edward, don’t.” I took a deep breath. “Why do want to get close to Mr. Radcliffe?”
He nodded. “It’s part of the plan to cure myself. I have letters that I took from your father’s laboratory before it burned. They contain correspondence with a former colleague of his, going back years to when he was first banished. All that time on the island, he maintained contact with someone, trading the secrets to his work in exchange for funding and supplies.”
His words gave me pause. All those years when I’d thought Father dead, he was corresponding with someone back in London? I sank against the rough bark of a palm tree to steady myself. I’d once asked Father why he never wrote to me. He’d alluded to the fact that there was a warrant on him, and letters would have alerted the police to his whereabouts. And yet it seemed he hadn’t hesitated to write to colleagues when it suited him.