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The Madman's Daughter (The Madman's Daughter #1) Page 44
Author: Megan Shepherd

“Did you see? Inside the laboratory?”

He paused. Took in my bruised feet, my torn dress. “No, but I heard the screams. I can guess what he was doing in there. I told you there was no good reason for a doctor to come out here. But you shouldn’t have run. It’s dangerous. I couldn’t bear for you to get hurt. . . .”

My heart wrenched a little that he’d risked his own safety to come after me. And then I remembered why I had run. How my curiosity had pulled me to that laboratory like a hungry animal to a fresh kill. I shuddered, disgusted with myself.

“I had to get away.” I rubbed the life back into my aching feet, pushing hard until I felt sparks of pain. “I saw something I wish I hadn’t.” I looked him in the eye, wondering if he was strong enough to deal with the truth. He’d survived twenty days at sea. He’d had the courage to run away from a wealthy life—not an easy feat. Something in me wanted to test his strength, to see justhow much he could take.

He lowered his voice. “What did you see?”

I closed my eyes and replayed the scene from the laboratory. The twisted limbs, just like Balthasar and the rest of the islanders. All the caged animals. My head had suspected the connection, even though my heart didn’t want to believe it: Father might be creating things—creatures—out of vivisected animals.

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t go back there. I thought there might be other people on the island. The missionaries, maybe . . .”

“It’s dangerous out here. People are dying.”

I frowned. “That islander who was killed? Father said it was an accident.”

“It was no accident. No one accidentally has his heart clawed out of his chest.”

My spine went rigid, forcing me to my feet. I’d suspected Father hadn’t told me the truth, but not like this. “What do you mean?”

“They found the body near the beach. Three claw marks to the chest. Not the first one, either. They’re still finding some of the bodies. Puck told me some terrible stories.”

I glanced at the dark jungle. It wasn’t the dogs Edward was worried about, but a dangerous wild animal. I remembered the bandoliers around Balthasar’s chest. Father eating a strawberry slowly, telling me it was nothing to worry about.

I shook my head. “Montgomery would have said something. He wouldn’t have let me come if it was dangerous.”

“Montgomery’s been away six months. He didn’t know,” Edward continued. “They don’t know what’s killing people. That’s why I came after you. We have to go back before it finds us.”

“No! I can’t face him. Don’t you understand? I don’t want to ever see him again.”

“It’s better than getting clawed to death!” He took a deep breath. “You need to go back. Whatever you saw in that laboratory, pretend you didn’t. Just long enough until we can think of a way off the island.”

“You don’t understand,” I said bitterly. “They lied to me—Father, Montgomery. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve heard rumors . . . there was a scandal. . . .” I shook my head. Tears were threatening to spill, and I hated myself for the vulnerability. Years of my life had hinged on this one question: What type of man was my father?

And now I knew.

But Edward didn’t. He thought I’d simply come to reunite with an estranged father. I leaned forward, cupping my face. “You don’t understand.”

He paused. The tic in his jaw started. “I know about the scandal,” he said.

My head jerked up. “How?”

He studied me as if anticipating my reaction. “When I was in London—”

Something growled in the trees, silencing him. I lost my footing and nearly slipped into the creek. It was an ungodly noise, not human or animal.

Edward flexed his bruised knuckles, his words forgotten. “We have to go back. Can you run?” He glanced at my bare feet.

“I’ll manage.”

We tore through the jungle. The ground sloped downhill and we stumbled over vines, over thorns, through dense foliage that clawed at our limbs and tangled our feet. I tripped on a twisted root and slammed into the ground, my knee finding a sharp rock, my hands sinking into the moist layers of rotting leaves. I wiped the stains of the island on my dress as Edward pulled me to my feet.

“Sh,” he said. “Listen.”

We stood together, my head so close to his chest that I could hear the thump of his heart. There were always sounds in the jungle. Insects. Birds. Creaks and cracking, like whispers. As if someone was always following, watching from the ever-present screen of leaves.

“I thought I heard . . .” His whisper trailed off. For a moment it was just us and our heartbeats in the wilderness.

And then the thing snarled again, sudden and shrill. I could feel its rabid excitement.

Whatever it was, it had caught our trail.

We darted in and out of the foliage, making our way along the narrow spaces between trees, following the slope downhill. As if the island was guiding us. To where, I didn’t know.

I glanced back fleetingly, wondering what it was—a wild animal or something worse. But the jungle was too dense. It could have been a stone’s throw away and I wouldn’t have seen it.

My feet screamed for relief. We came to another stream, and Edward dashed across some rocks, but I paused for a second to catch my breath with my aching feet in the cool water. My heart thudded in my ears. When I looked up, Edward had disappeared among the undergrowth.

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Megan Shepherd's Novels
» A Cold Legacy (The Madman's Daughter #3)
» The Cage (The Cage #1)
» Her Dark Curiosity (The Madman's Daughter #2)
» The Madman's Daughter (The Madman's Daughter #1)