Chapter
29

Dr. Bloodmayne leaned across his desk and reached for the stack of notes to the right. Books lay open on the left, piled atop each other like a paper pyramid. Rain pounded the window behind him. A pungent smell lingered from the lab next door. At least the moans had stopped.

He didn’t bother to turn on the gas lamp on the wall nearby. Instead, he held his notes up to the weak light filtering through the window. He preferred rainy days to sunshine. He seemed to get more done, and the rain soothed his mind.

He glanced at his latest scribbles, thoughts that had come to him last night. All this time he had thought that Kathryn’s power was triggered by will or thought. But what if that wasn’t the case? What if it was more primal?

He lowered the paper and tapped his chin. When he had her in his lab, she said she couldn’t control the power inside her, that it was somehow triggered but she never said how.

What if—what if it was triggered by emotion?

“Yes,” he said softly and placed the notes down on the desk. He stood and turned toward the window. “That would make sense.” Rain pelted the panes with a steady tap. Heavy, dark clouds hung over World City, leaving the city looking like one of those Goth paintings that hung in the Capitol building. A couple of Tower scientists ran across the street below with newspapers held over their heads.

Death, life, matter, they were the fundamentals of reality. The building blocks of everything that existed. Of course the kind of power that controlled them would not be directed by higher thought. It would be controlled by instinct, by emotion. Until the mind learned how to control it.

“But is the flesh strong enough? Can a human direct that kind of power without consequence?” Dr. Bloodmayne slammed the side of his fist against the window and bowed his head. “I need to know.” Why did you leave, Kathryn? I offered you everything!

He twisted around and grabbed the back of his chair. No matter. She would be found, and soon he would know how much Kathryn could take. And this time he would try a different approach. He would find her emotional triggers and see the power for himself.

The door on the other side of the room opened. Miss Nicola glanced in, her auburn hair a shade darker in the shadows of his office. “Pardon my interruption, Dr. Bloodmayne, but there is a telegram for you. The sender wrote that it is urgent and for your eyes only.”

Dr. Bloodmayne waved her in.

Miss Nicola opened the door the rest of the way and crossed the room. Her lab coat was pristine and wrinkle free, her hair piled up fashionably on her head. She gave him a debonair smile as she placed the telegram on his desk and took a step back. She reminded him of a cat with that suave, confident gait and look of a feline who knew it owned the room.

“Thank you, Miss Nicola.” He picked up the telegram, the paper smooth and cool between his fingers. “I need you to check on the specimen in the next room. It has finally quieted down enough so we can begin the initial round of injections.”

Her smile widened, and that same eager look he felt when he worked filled her eyes. Yes, he had found an apprentice after his own heart. Why couldn’t Kathryn have been more like Nicola?

She gave him a small nod and took a step back. “I will start right away, Dr. Bloodmayne.” Instead of exiting through the door she had come through, Nicola went right and headed into one of his secret labs. A low moan escaped the room when she opened the door, and the pungent smell grew strong again.

Dr. Bloodmayne withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket and held it to his nose. If only there was a way to work without that death-like stench.

Nicola closed the door behind her. Dr. Bloodmayne thrust his thumb under the crease of the telegram, forcing it open. The message was short.

Found her in Austrium. Bringing her back by ship.
Will arrive in five days.

He read the telegram again and placed it on the desk. The date on the telegram was yesterday, which meant the bounty hunters would be here in three more days.

Excellent. He knew if the bounty were high enough, his daughter would be found and brought back. In the end, the price was worth it. The council would be pleased to know that he would shortly be resuming his studies on matter. And even more importantly . . .

He crossed his office toward the bookcase to the left. He reached for a single book bound in dark red leather and pulled. Instead of releasing the book, the entire bookcase swung open with a subtle groan, revealing a small, dark room beyond.

Dr. Bloodmayne reached inside to his right and felt for a small lever. With a flip of his finger, the gas lamp within lit with a quiet hum. As he entered, the bookcase closed behind him.

The air was cold in here, as if it were an icehouse, but there was no ice present. Just a single brass box against the wall. The rest of the room was empty. No tables, no chairs, no bookshelves.

Another, lower hum emitted from the brass box, which stood as tall as a man and three feet wide, with tubes and wires surrounding the outside save for a circular glass window near the top.

He stopped before the box and reached for the circular glass. “Helen,” he whispered, his fingers stopping just shy of the glass that separated him from his wife. She looked exactly the same as she did almost twenty years ago. The same beautiful face. The same thick, dark hair. And if he could see them, her eyes would be the same color as coffee. “How I’ve missed you.”

A deep longing filled his being, so full and thick it almost hurt physically. She was the only thing he had loved more than his work, and since her death, he had thrown himself even deeper into his studies. No knowledge was taboo, no risk too great, if it could bring Helen back.

His hand dropped slightly. But what about their daughter?

His lips turned downward and he thrust his hands into his pockets. Kathryn was a means to an end. She was not Helen. If only she had been cooperative when he had first brought her to the Tower, or if he had known that his experiments had changed her, giving her the power he had desired for so long, then he might have Helen now, at his side, instead of in that cold mechanical box before him.

“I just want you back,” he said as he gazed at his wife. “Just to talk to you again.” He tightened his hands into fists inside his pockets. “And I will. Soon.”