Chapter 4 #2
He does as I bid, and I swallow past the bile rising in my throat. The smell of blood and other bodily fluids coupled with the awful memories swirling in my mind make my stomach turn.
I need fresh air. I need to breathe.
I hurry forward and let myself out onto the quiet street. The street lamps are almost burned down, and the first pale rays of dawn creep across the sky. The ever-present smog fills the streets, and the air, while not fresh, is cold and welcome.
I stand still on the cobbled street and close my eyes, breathing heavily, feeling the slight weight of the boy in my arms. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to think back to the one place that gives me peace, my childhood home in India.
For just a few brief moments, the smog and frigid air disappear, and I’m transported back, leaning out of my window, remembering the sensation of warm air rippling over my skin and the heady scent of night-blooming jasmine from the garden below me.
I want to go home.
Everything in me yearns to return, but I can’t. I’m not that girl anymore. She’s long gone. My soul is too stained to ever know peace now.
Opening my eyes, I glance down at the tiny blond boy in my arms and see that he’s drifted into a peaceful sleep, his head on my breast. I wonder how long it’s been since he’s felt safe. If he ever did.
I can’t send him back to the poorhouse, and he can’t stay with me. I certainly wouldn’t let him anywhere near my demon. There’s only one place I can think of where he’ll be safe. Or rather, only one person.
I draw in a breath and gather my power. Feeling it swirl around me, I don’t even check to see if anyone is watching. I don’t care anymore.
The street blurs and shifts. A funnel of purple smoke spins madly around us, and when it finally subsides, I am standing in the middle of a familiar foyer outside a different study. One I know very well.
Shifting the boy in my arms and trying not to wake him, I cross the threshold. As I do, my brother looks up from his desk. A myriad of emotions cross his handsome face.
His collar is unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled to his forearms. He clearly hasn’t been to bed, still dressed from the day before, and it looks like he’s spent the night poring over the papers stacked on his cluttered desk.
His dark hair sticks up all over the place, which means he’s likely run his hands through it too many times. I was always combing his hair as a child, but it was as unruly as he was. I’d have never believed he’d grow into such a calm, capable man.
“Cordelia.” He breathes my name like a benediction and rises from his chair, but not before his gaze drops to the sleeping child in my arms. I step further into the room, and he crosses to meet me, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Who is this?”
I swallow tightly. “I found him in the cellar of Judge Maycliffe’s house.”
“Judge Maycliffe? But what…” His eyes flare and his gaze flicks back to the desk, which I now see is cluttered with newspaper articles about the killings across London, the ones I am responsible for. “What did you do?” he whispers in horror.
“Less than he deserved,” I answer coldly. “Had I found the boy before, I’d have made sure he suffered even more.”
“What do you mean, found the boy? What?—”
I glance down at Tobias. “Maycliffe had him chained to the wall like an animal.” I swallow tightly, trying to force back the memories. “I remember Maycliffe all too well from my time in the asylum. Whyte allowed him access to the patients. The young boys were his favourites.”
“Dear God,” he breathes out as he looks down at the boy, his eyes welling in sympathy. “Did he?—?”
“He won’t remember,” I mutter, stroking his matted hair. “I made sure of that. I’ve healed him too.”
“You healed him?” My brother blinks slowly. “How?”
“The Book of Lala Khal is for more than just raising demons,” I murmur as I continue to stroke the boy’s hair soothingly. “True magic is neither light nor dark. It can be used for great harm, but it can also be used for great good.”
“Cordy,” he says softly. “Come home.”
The use of my childhood name sends a pang of sadness through me, and my eyes again fall on the desk. “Even after everything I’ve done? The lives I’ve taken?”
“I know why.” His brows drew down. “There’s always forgiveness.”
“Not for me.” I straighten, my words hardening. “I need you to take the boy. He’s suffered enough. He deserves safety and love.”
“So do you.”
I shake my head slowly, forcing down a wave of longing. “It’s too late for me. Besides, my work is not finished.”
I shake the boy awake gently. “Tobias, wake up.”
He sleepily opens his eyes, and when they fall on my brother, his arms tighten around my neck.
“It’s alright. This is my brother, Cornelius. He’s a good man. He won’t hurt you.”
“Why can’t I stay with you?” He stares up at me, and for a moment, I wish I could keep him.
“You can’t.” I stroke his hair back and tuck it behind his ear. “Where I’m going, you can’t follow. I need you to trust me, please? This one last time?”
He looks at Cornelius and then back to me, and his big blue eyes are filled with a seriousness far beyond his years. Finally, he nods, and I pass him into my brother’s arms. I steel my heart and turn on my heel, heading back into the foyer.
“Cordy, wait!” Cornelius follows me out, still holding onto the boy. “You’re going after more of Whyte’s associates?”
“Someone must punish them,” I growl.
“Maybe, but not you. It’s between them and their God. Eventually, there will be an accounting for what they have done.”
“And how many innocents will they hurt between now and then?” I snap.
“No. I will send every single last one of them to their Maker. They have forfeited their right to walk this earth.” I lift my hands and let my magic loose.
Dark lavender smoke eddies around me, matching my temper.
“I will make every one of them suffer the pain they have inflicted on others. Then and only then will they have been judged.”
The foyer swirls and blurs around me, and my brother and the boy disappear from my sight.