Chapter 23 #5
“What shall I do if they ask me about medical procedures?” he asked. “About things I do not know?”
“They won’t,” Victoria said with certainty.
She had attended enough of these events with her father to know better.
“They don’t care about you. They will not ask questions they cannot answer themselves.
Ask about them. The people at these parties love nothing more than the sound of their own voices.
” She exhaled sharply. “Be vague about politics. Speak as little as possible. Be friendly but not overly familiar. The women will be fighting over a dance with you, no doubt.” Jealousy flared inside of her.
“Will you not be at my side?” he asked. “Why do you seem so worried?”
She turned away abruptly, breath unsteady.
“Take it off, please. But do not put your old clothes back on. They are filthy. I will wash them and return them to you tomorrow.” Her voice softened, just barely.
“You will need to wrap yourself in a blanket. There is a pair of drawers over there—they are clean. They were my father’s.
They will not fit well, but they will suffice. ”
Innominatus followed her into the hallway, then into the sitting room, his presence filling the space behind her like a chain tied to her ankle, reminding her of things she couldn’t ever fully ignore.
“I will help you dress and tidy your hair tomorrow,” she continued. “Please do your best to remain clean.”
“Must I go back down?” he asked quietly.
Disappointment painted his face. “Won’t I smell of death and decay again?
” His voice sharpened with urgency. “It’s horrible down there, Victoria.
I do not think I can stand it much longer.
The stench alone is unbearable. I will bury your father if you tell me where to dig.
He deserves peace. I am stronger now than I was—I can dig deep enough even in the frozen ground.
You do not even need to be there if you do not—”
“Do not touch my father,” Victoria snapped, spinning on him as she held the cellar door open.
The thought of someone—anyone else—meddling with her father sent her into a flurry of anger.
It was a reminder that she could not ignore the circumstances.
She glanced down the stairs and was reminded of why her father was no longer with her.
That this had been his last view before he died while she was off staring at Innominatus like a lovesick puppy.
The creation of him had cost her, her father.
The scent of rot crept upward, clinging to her skin, her lungs.
“A new waistcoat and a few kind words do not make you human,” she said harshly.
“They make you my creation. My horrible, horrible creation. No matter how well we pretend, you will always be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
My father would still be here had I not loved you so fully, and I will never make that mistake again.
No matter how much I care for you, that will never change.
” Her voice broke only slightly. “And for that,” she added, quieter, “I am sorry.”
The devastated look on his face felt like it dragged her down into the laboratory, into the cold chamber with her father.
“Then make me another like me,” he said at last. His voice was steady, but something inside it was desperate and fractured.
“So that I am not alone. Make me another like me so that I may think of someone other than you.” His eyes burned with something raw and aching.
“You have filled my thoughts. My soul is consumed by you in a way you seem incapable of understanding. It is torture for you not to return my feelings. Make another monster like me so that I can love someone that wants me just as I am!”
“No!” Victoria shouted. The idea of Innominatus with another sent an inferno of emotions rolling into her.
Him turning that attention, that devotion, that body toward someone else, sent pinpricks of pain across her temple.
Her anger flared hot and irrational. It was a push and pull that would soon tip her over the edge.
“I will not make the same mistake twice,” she lashed out.
“What if they were more monstrous than you?”
His jaw tightened, pain flashing through his amber eyes like a blade. “You continue to call me a monster,” he said quietly, “but I was born only of the materials you chose. If I am grotesque, it is because you built me from pieces you deemed unworthy.”
The words struck deeper than she expected. He wasn’t grotesque. He was beautiful and wonderful and everything she could have ever wanted. If only loving him wouldn’t ruin her—wouldn’t go against her father’s wishes.
Without another glance, Innominatus stepped past her and descended into the basement. The darkness swallowed him whole.
And she stood there, shaking, aching, knowing with terrifying certainty that she had just pushed away the only person who had ever made her feel anything—and the only man she had ever wanted.