The Heartless City (30 page)

ris!”

Elliot screamed and started to dash up the stairs toward her, but the Lord Mayor quickly swung the gun in his direction. He froze again and watched as the Lord Mayor stood and climbed the steps, seizing a fistful of Iris’s hair and jerking her up off the floor. A cry of relief erupted from Elliot’s throat when he saw she was still alive, blinking against her stupor as the Lord Mayor forced her to stand. Her shoulder―bared by her strapless gown―was now splattered with blood. But once she was back on her feet, the bullet slipped out and
clinked
to the concrete, and the wound where it had been began to close and heal itself.

“How did you escape your chains?” the Lord Mayor demanded, dragging her down the stairs and throwing her back against one of the cells.

She straightened up and turned to face him, rage flaring inside her eyes.

“I broke my thumbs,” she replied.

Even the Lord Mayor blanched a little, but then he recovered, fueled by rage as powerful as her own.

“I’d so wanted to keep you around for our little experiment,” he said. “But you’ve proven to be much more of a liability than you’re worth.”

He waved his gun and forced both her and Elliot away from the stairs, backing them up to where Andrew stood in the final holding cell. As they walked, Elliot glanced down and noticed the Lord Mayor limping; he must have twisted or sprained his ankle badly when he fell.

“Perhaps it’s for the best anyway,” the Lord Mayor continued to Iris. “I probably would have grown tired of you eventually anyhow. Healing power or not, you’re just a slit like any other.”

Elliot stiffened as rage scorched his veins, and the Lord Mayor laughed.

“As for you,” he said. “Unfortunately, you know too much. Although, I think you’ll agree that putting an end to your pathetic existence would be an act of mercy.”

He stopped just before they reached Andrew’s cell, and when he dug his free hand into his pocket and drew out a key, Elliot assumed he was going to lock them up next to Andrew. Instead, however, he fiddled with the padlock on Andrew’s door, opening the clasp and removing the padlock completely. The door swung open, and Andrew cried out, backing against the wall.

“I think I’ll let the three of you take care of my problem yourselves,” the Lord Mayor said, pocketing the lock and backing away toward the stairs. “I’d love to watch, but I have more important matters to tend to.”

Ice slid through Elliot’s veins as understanding dawned. “No―
no
!” he cried, his heart thrashing against his ribs. “You can’t do this! Andrew’s mother,
my father
―they’ll find out what you’ve done and they―”

“People die and disappear in this city everyday,” he replied. “Besides, Elliot, can you honestly say that your father will be anything but grateful to hear you’re gone?”

Somehow, in the midst of Elliot’s panic, the comment
hurt
, so badly that―against all reason―he charged toward the stairs.

“Why the hell did you want to remove your empathy?” he hollered. “You’re already an evil, soulless excuse for a human being!”

The Lord Mayor paused and looked down, quirking his lips into a smile. “It wasn’t meant for me,” he said. “It was meant for Cambrian. I thought that destroying his feminine weakness would make him more of a man; little did I know the serum would do the opposite. So thank you for that, Elliot,” he said, stepping through the doorway. “I must admit this second plan worked out better than the first.”

He shut the door and turned the iron lock with a deafening
clang
.

Elliot stared up after him, his lungs frozen in terror, but then he rushed back to Iris, fighting the roar of his pulse in his ears. “Iris, are you all right? What happened? What did he do to you?”

“I’m fine. He brought me here last night and chained me up in a room on the third floor. It’s a laboratory, Elliot―a full, working lab. I’m certain it’s where he’s been making the drug and doing God knows what else. I imagined a hundred terrible things that he might do to me, but all he did was take my blood.”

“Your blood?”

“About a pint.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. He took it, and then he left.” She clutched his hand, and he squeezed it back in spite of her anxiety. “Why are you here?” she asked. “Why was Andrew locked up in a cell? And what did the Lord Mayor mean when he said we’d solve his problem ourselves?”

Elliot’s stomach dropped, and his blood turned to ice again. “Cam and I came here looking for you and found Andrew locked up instead. The Lord Mayor infected him last night. He’s a Hyde.”

Iris blanched. “Oh God. Where is Cambrian now?”

Elliot took a breath and then explained everything that happened. Iris’s face grew more and more pale as she listened to the story, but then a metal clanking sounded behind them, and she jumped. Both of them turned to see Andrew, pulling desperately at his door, trying to find a way to jam it shut without the padlock. They rushed toward him, but once they reached him, he screamed and backed away.

“Get back!”

“Andrew,” Elliot said, raising his hands. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not! I could change at any moment and kill you both.”

“Andrew, calm down,” Iris said, stepping closer to the bars. “We just need to compose ourselves and think rationally about this.” She slowed her pulse and breathing and then glanced around the room. “We can find another barrier, or maybe a way to bind you. Once that protection’s in place, we can focus on how to escape.”

“Right,” Elliot said. “It’s a jail. There must be some handcuffs or chains.”

He and Iris separated and searched around the room, but Andrew remained in his cell, tugging urgently at the door. Then, in a corner a few feet away, Elliot found a long, unfamiliar, metal table. A grey, woolen blanket had been draped over the surface, and when he pulled it back, a strangled gasp escaped his throat. A wide array of surgical equipment lay on the table, and most of it―as well as the table itself―was stained with blood. He shuddered, reaching down and picking up a sharpened scalpel. What terrible things had the Lord Mayor used these instruments for?

“Dear God,” Iris whispered, coming to stand beside him.

After a moment, Andrew crept out of his cell and looked as well. “Unfortunately, a scalpel won’t be helpful against a Hyde.” His breathing slowed, and his heart ground to a halt, arrested by a combination of terror, grief, and hope. “A person, however,” he murmured.

Elliot spun around to face him. “No,” he said, clutching the scalpel and backing away. “Don’t think it.”

“Elliot, it’s the only way. You have to kill me now, before I have the chance to change.”

“Like hell I do!” he cried. “Have you lost your bloody mind?”

“Andrew, wait,” Iris said. “You need to stop and consider your options. There has to be another way―”

“There is no other way,” he yelled. “Face the facts: We’re trapped down here, and no one is coming to save―”

He broke off and turned away, choking on his anguish, which rose with such intensity Elliot’s knees nearly buckled beneath it. “I
am
thinking reasonably,” he continued after a breath, gripping the table to keep his composure as tears swarmed his eyes. “I’m infected. What kind of life can I possibly hope for now? Either the Lord Mayor will kill me, keep me imprisoned, or let me go, but no matter what he does, it won’t stop me from being a monster.” He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, his knuckles turning white. “I’d rather die than live with knowing I murdered two of my friends. Besides…” The tears spilled over, and his soul sank into the ground. Elliot clutched the scalpel and turned away, unable to breath. “Since I… now that Cambrian…” And then he couldn’t go on. He slid to the floor, covered his face, and sobbed against his hands.

“Andrew,” Iris said fiercely, kneeling down on the ground beside him. “Don’t give up! All hope isn’t lost―not even with Cambrian. I don’t believe there is such a thing as a hopeless situation. You always have options, and there is always more than one choice to make.”

Andrew sucked in a rattling breath, his shoulders trembling. “You’re right,” he wheezed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “I have a choice.”

Iris tumbled backward as he shoved her and leapt to his feet, making a mad dash for the scalpel in Elliot’s hand. Elliot jerked his arm away and stumbled against the table, sending the surgical instruments clamoring down to the concrete floor. Andrew lunged again, but Elliot ducked down just in time, causing Andrew to roll over his back and onto the table.

“Andrew, stop!” Elliot cried, clutching the blade to his chest.

But Andrew ignored him, scrambling off the table and springing again. His shoulder slammed into Elliot’s chest, and they both crashed to the ground, but the violent influx of Andrew’s desperation gave Elliot strength. With double the drive, he shoved him off and started to crawl to his feet. But the moment he stood up, Andrew reached out and caught his ankle, yanking it back and sending him flying facedown onto the floor. He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear his blurring vision, and Andrew climbed onto his back and gripped the hand that held the blade. Elliot clenched his fist as tight as he could, but Andrew bit his wrist, and a bolt of pain shot through his nerves like a blinding electric current. His fingers opened against his will, and Andrew snatched the scalpel. When he rolled over, Elliot saw him raising it to his throat. Before he could draw the blade across his flesh, however, it vanished.

“Stop this madness now!” Iris cried as she snatched the scalpel, shoving Andrew off of Elliot and onto the floor. “Neither of us is going to let you kill yourself, and that’s final. Now stop wasting time and help us to find a way out of here!”

Andrew covered his face and rolled over onto his side, flooding the entire room with his pain and desolation. Elliot gritted his teeth against it and crawled up onto his knees, but then Andrew’s despair dissolved like water down a drain. Once it was gone, a sharp, creeping hunger crawled into its place―a hot, gnawing ache that snaked through his body like angry vines.

“Iris,” Elliot murmured, slowly rising to his feet. “I think… I think he’s…” He looked at her, and her eyes grew wide.

“Oh God.”

“Come on!” he cried, taking her hand and running to Andrew’s cell. Once they made it inside, they grabbed the door and pulled it shut.

“It’s going to be all right,” Iris said, though her fear was as sharp as his own. “We simply have to hold him off until he changes back.”

Andrew screamed, and a wave of vicious hunger seared Elliot’s throat.

“Iris, you have to slow your heart,” he said, gripping the bars. “Please, lie down and do it now, before he changes completely.”

She stared at him, her fear dwarfed by a wave of disbelief. “There is no way I am leaving you to fight him on your own.”

“Iris, you have a way to protect yourself―”

“By abandoning you? I’m sorry, Elliot, but that isn’t going to happen!”

Andrew shrieked again, and Elliot slumped down to his knees. The hunger was all consuming, and the high was roasting his brain. He raised his head and watched as Andrew’s skin became bloodlessly white, his hair sank into his scalp, and his muscles strained the already torn seams of his evening coat.