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After freshening up in Dwivedi’s bathroom and gargling several glasses of a minty concoction he’d provided, I joined Erik on the scientist’s balcony, taking a seat next to him on a rattan settee. Cooling on a side table beside him was a pot of tea. Dwivedi seemed certain most of life’s ills could be remedied with tea, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if Amity’s treatment included an infusion of Darjeeling or oolong.
It was not oolong in the pot Dwivedi had left for us but ginger. He’d claimed it would calm my stomach and cleanse my palate. The latter half of his claim was proving true—my mouth no longer tasted like acid, but my stomach remained stubbornly tied in knots. “What do you think this means?” I asked.
“I’m not sure.” The shock of our recent discovery flattened Erik’s voice. “But Dwivedi said he wouldn’t let her out of her cage. She still has the same monstrous urges. Unless that changes, having a heartbeat doesn’t mean much.”
“But what if she is cured? What if there comes a time when she doesn’t want to eat us anymore? Will that make her human again instead of whatever it was she was before?”
Erik rubbed his hands over his face and slid off the seat. He crossed to the balcony railing and leaned over the edge. A stiff breeze stirred his hair. “I don’t know, Sera.”
“I never thought they had souls.” I tried ignoring the unease in the pit of my belly that had nothing to do with overindulging at dinner or the failure of Dwivedi’s ginger tea. “I don’t really know if I have one either, but I know I have something that makes me different from them. At least, I thought I did. That’s why I never minded killing them the way I did. I thought whatever spark it was that made us who we are had left the undead in the time between their deaths and their resurrections.
“I thought they were just hollow carcasses with a need to taste human flesh—they don’t care or hurt or feel scared.” I took a deep breath and hugged my arms around my waist. “They don’t feel love.”
Erik turned around, facing me. The light inside Dr. Dwivedi’s apartment anointed the high spots on his face, and he looked like an illustration, a two-dimensional drawing. His expression was impossible to read.
“Have I been killing a bunch of potentially innocent people?” I swallowed a sob.
Erik flinched briefly before sliding to the ground before me. He put his head in my lap, and reflexively, I stroked his hair.
“We couldn’t have known,” he said.
“But does that excuse me? Does that make it okay, the things I’ve done?”
“I’ve done them too.”
“Then we’ll go to Hell together?”
“If we must.”
“I killed my father.” Tonight was a night for unexpected outbursts, it seemed. I hadn’t known I was going to confess. The words had tumbled from my mouth on their own, as if my conscience could no longer bear the poison of my guilt.
Erik lifted his head and met my gaze, but he said nothing. His expression was blank.
The story poured from my tongue like grains of sand from a broken hourglass. “I knew nothing about the Dead Disease then. I think no one did. Father was rarely home; some special project at work kept him away. Bloom was home from school.”
Erik remained still, crouched at my knees, but he gripped my fingers, holding them vise tight.
“One night I had a strange dream about two dogs fighting, but then I woke up, and the growling didn’t stop. I followed the noise into Bloom’s room. They were both there—my father and my sister. I couldn’t tell what they were doing at first. Even though he designed guns, my father was never a violent man—stern, strict, but never vicious. It made no sense that he and Bloom would fight, wrestling like two wild animals.
“Then, I guess he caught my scent or something because he paused and turned to look at me. It was night, so I couldn’t see much, but something about the way he held his body, the way he moved—” I shivered, remembering the horror of it. Remembering that nothing in the whole world was ever the same again after that moment. “It was the most frightening thing I ever saw. I screamed and ran for my room. My body knew what to do even though my brain was trying to convince me it was my father, so there was no reason to fear.
“I didn’t make it far. I tripped when he lunged for me, and he knocked me to the floor right in the middle of our... our living room...” I didn’t know if I could finish the story because my throat closed as if a pair of strong hands had encircled my neck and was squeezing. Squeezing.
Erik’s long fingers cupped my face. He peered into my eyes. At least I thought that was what he was doing. It was hard to tell out here in the dark.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said.
Talking like that had been compulsive. I’d never been hypnotized, but the way I was feeling must’ve been similar to a mesmeric trance. I swallowed and continued. “H-he trapped me underneath him. He and Bloom were much bigger than me, so I didn’t stand a chance of fighting him off, especially if she hadn’t been able to. When Father went after me, Bloom told me she grabbed a gun from the drawer in her nightstand and took off after us. She didn’t shoot because she was afraid she might hit me. She managed to pull Father away before he could bite, but then he attacked her again. Bloom dropped the gun.
“I didn’t even hesitate. I picked up the gun and... and...” My whole body seized like a piston in an overheated engine. I’d said everything except the part that mattered most, but the effort to get out the final words had become a Sisyphean feat.
Sensing my distress, Erik stood and hauled me against him like we were two characters in a tragic play. Normally, I didn’t go in for dramatic stuff, but it felt so good to be held. Especially by him. When the tears took over, he rocked me and rubbed my back. He let me cry until the wave of emotion waned and receded. Eventually, I calmed down enough to hear him. He’d been humming a soft, soothing tune in my ear.
I wiped my nose on the loose end of my gown and blotted my eyes, hoping Parvati would forgive me for soiling her sari. I’d also ruined all the makeup she’d taken so long to perfect, but none of that mattered anymore.
“It’s not your fault, Sera.” Erik stroked my hair as though I were a timid kitten.
If I hadn’t felt so wretched, I might’ve purred for him.
I hiccupped. “Bloom and I’ve had that discussion a million times. But knowing it in your head and knowing it in your heart are two different things. I killed my father. I can’t take that back.”
“He would’ve killed you.”
“We could’ve run. If it turns out Dwivedi has a cure, then maybe we could’ve saved him.”
Erik harrumphed “Every single one of us is haunted by the ghosts of what might have been, but we can’t live in the past. There is no life in the past. Only death.”
“It’s been five years, and there’s not a day goes by that I don’t think of him.”
Resting his cheek against my temple, Erik sighed in a deep way that made me tingle all over. “Then he’s not really gone. Maybe that’s what afterlife is. People’s memories of us, keeping us alive somewhere.”
“I’m sorry about crying all over your suit.” I sniffled and rubbed my eyes.
“It wasn’t really my style anyway.”
“I think it looks good on you.”
He stilled. “Really? It’s not too... flashy?”
“Not any more than this getup.” I flicked my fingers at my gown.
“I meant what I said earlier.”
“’Bout what?”
“About you looking like something to be worshiped.”
I was glad for the darkness that kept him from seeing me turn red. “It’s just smoke and mirrors. A magic show. Tomorrow, I’ll be the girl I’ve always been, and this night will have been a dream.”
“A very good dream.” His voice was low and gruff. “I’m not sure I want it to end.”
Suddenly self-conscious, I tried pulling away, but he wouldn’t let me go.
“Why do you do that?” The light from Dr. Dwivedi’s apartment caught in his seeing eye, and silver flecks shimmered in it like the stars in the sky behind him.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Pull away from me.”
“I- I just thought to give you some space.”
He grunted a sound of protest in the back of his throat. “I’ve been trying to tell you all night that I don’t want space.”
“You don’t?”
Impossibly, he drew me closer. My breath thinned as his face inched nearer to mine. “No, Sera. I don’t.”
“What... what do you want?”
He inhaled, and I thought he would say something, but no. Instead, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over mine like a question. A request.
Oh, dear me. Was that what I think it was?
I had no chance to formulate a response before he did it again, but this time, he lingered so there was no question. No uncertainty. His lips covered mine, soft at first and then firmer as I pressed against him, wanting more.
I had a feeling, when it came to Erik, I would always be wanting more.
His mouth opened, his tongue seeking and finding mine. The intoxicated feeling from earlier in the night returned, spinning my head, warming my body, spiking bubbles in my bloodstream. He was heat and life and excitement and hope. His touch felt like the opposite of being alone.
I would’ve had more to say about his mouth on mine and the carnal feelings his touch elicited, but my brain had melted into a useless puddle along with the rest of my body.
Sometime later, he broke away and drew in another deep breath. He put those wonderful lips to my ear and said, “You don’t have to be alone. I won’t go anywhere, I promise.”
With every element of my being, I wanted to believe him, but... “That’s not a promise anyone can make.”
“I’m not just anyone,” he said, stepping aside as the sliding door opened to admit Dr. Dwivedi onto the balcony.
“Hello, my friends. I have come to see if you are feeling any better?”
Uncomfortable with public displays of affection, I pulled away from Erik, smoothed my dress, and patted my hair into place. Awkwardly, Erik fidgeted with the collar of his jacket.
Dr. Dwivedi’s eyebrows performed a little dance of excitement. “I suspect that you are feeling much better. It was my ginger tea, of course. See? I told you it would help.”
Snorting, I rolled my eyes.
Dwivedi’s gaze slid to Erik. “The evening is so late, and after everything that has occurred today, I find myself exhausted. I know we said we would discuss plans for your sister’s liberation, but I must ask for a pardon. Our thinking will be much clearer in the morning after a night of good rest. Do you not agree?”
I glanced at Erik, who lifted his chin in a subtle nod.
“Sure thing, Dr. Dwivedi,” I said. “If you don’t mind putting me up for another evening, then I guess I don’t mind staying. The streets aren’t the safest place to be this hour.”
Apparent relief washed over Dwivedi. The concern on his pinched face eased, and he smiled. “Thank you. You have been very tolerant of my idiosyncrasies.”
“I guess if I want your help, then I don’t have any other choice.”
He shook his head. “Maybe not, but your patience is most appreciated.”
Dwivedi led me through his apartment to his front door and bade me goodnight.
Erik watched from the balcony with his brows drawn tight together, a contemplative look on his face.
“I will meet you for breakfast in the library, then?” Dwivedi asked.
“Will there be marmalade?”
He lit up with laughter. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”