Emma Holloway - A Study in Ashes

The effect was immediate, as if someone had pulled a bag over her head, suffocating her. The next sensation was nauseating dizziness, filled with the prickling echoes of pain, like a pale version of the agony that had stopped her at the college gate. The skin where the salt touched began to burn, reacting violently against her Blood. As she began to sweat, Evelina thought she would vomit, but just as suddenly the sensation faded, leaving her head clear and her heart hammering. She sucked in a breath, trying to control the reaction, but then she smiled. The dampening fields weren’t working anymore. But in the next moment she realized that was only partially true. Only part of her power had forced its way past the barrier. Her darker magic was alert, active, and it was—for want of a better description—enthusiastic. It approved of being left in charge. It stretched itself like a big cat and began looking about for something to eat. Dear God, I don’t like this .

But there was nothing to do but get on with the job at hand. Evelina shoved the empty vial into her pocket and inched along, listening for signs of life. The place seemed empty, but surely there had to be nurses or doctors to watch over their experiments. She paused to peer into the window of the first doorway. A single light had been left on, but low. There was a steel table with something on it, but a sheet covered whatever was there. The next table held something that wasn’t human, and she wasn’t sure it ever had been. It might have once been a dog. She turned away, breathing hard, her hand slippery on the butt of the pistol.

Many of the doors had a card tucked into the corner of the tiny windows. She drew close to one, bending to read it because she didn’t really want to touch anything she didn’t have to. It read: Subject 21-14, released 1889-09-27 . She peered inside the window, but the room was dark and empty. Released a week ago? Released? Where to? Dozens of the doors said the same thing, only the number of the subject changing. It doesn’t make sense .

Something in the cell across the corridor lunged against the door with a savage scream, as if it sensed her there. Startled witless, she staggered against the opposite wall, torn between fear of what was behind that door, and what might respond to those cries. No, no, no, be quiet!

She looked frantically at the number of doors left to go, and then started moving as fast as she could, not stopping to do more than glance at each one. Tears streamed down her face; she was so hurt by the act of witnessing such pain that she couldn’t imagine the nightmare of living through what she saw.

None of the subjects left in the laboratories were escaping. There were bodies, but they were all strapped to hospital beds, unconscious or bandaged or trapped in steel machines she didn’t understand. Sometimes the machines seemed to be erupting from the flesh, bolts and ends of steel rods poking through necrotic skin. She saw one woman suspended in a globe of glass, her body eviscerated but for an aether distiller where her heart should have been, her mouth open in an endless scream. The dark power in Evelina stirred, wanting to destroy something that was so obviously wrong.

A hand fell on her shoulder, and she realized she had been hypnotized by the horror. But she did not turn immediately, instead taking her time to grip the gun and wheel in such a way that the muzzle landed against the man’s diaphragm. At the same time she raised a hand, releasing a bolt of power to knock him out as she had the guard at the door. She heard him suck in a surprised breath, but he just blinked.

“How unfortunate,” she said. Now I have to shoot him .

But as the nose of the gun bumped against him, it clicked against metal. Not a button or a breastplate, but something muffled by the cloth of his coat. Surprised, she looked up into a broad, bald-headed face with cold hazel eyes. “Don’t try to appeal to my heart,” the man said in a dull tone, but beneath that flatness was a void that made her flesh crawl. “They took mine out years ago.”

She shrank back, wanting space between them, but then he pushed her so that her head cracked against the wall. Stars made her reel, blocking sight and sound and dragging nausea upward in a rush. Evelina shook her head to clear it, the room reeling as the man bore down on her. Evelina made a shuddering moan, nearly losing her grip on the gun. “Stay away from me.”

“No,” he said simply, reaching for her.

She dodged, trying to skitter around him so she could run the other way. He laughed and pushed her again, and she smashed against the door with the thing lunging at the other side. For an instant she could feel the vibration as the cell’s occupant leaped for her, claws scrabbling on the glass just behind her head. Claws? Was this the savage hound Nellie Reynolds had described?

And then the guard grabbed her wrist in a grip meant to crush bone to dust. She cried out, wrenching herself free and squeezing the trigger all at once. The sound of the gunshot ricocheted through the empty hallway. Unexpectedly, he let go and she staggered back, her momentum sending her flying toward the door where she’d entered the building. The man toppled, hitting the floor, and Evelina collapsed against the wall, revolted by what she’d done.

The bullet had entered beneath the soft underside of his chin and blown away the top of his head—and not even a mechanical heart could help that. Skull, brain, and blood splattered the stone floor and the hygienic white of the walls. The creature battering against its cell door began to howl. Evelina retched, splattering the hem of her skirts, while the thing across the way stopped howling and began to snuffle at the crack under the door.

The darkness in her, already alert, uncoiled at the scent of the dying man’s energy. It—she—didn’t have the power to take life from the living, but when a body surrendered it, she was free to feed. A shudder of expectation went through her, leaving her weak enough that she slumped against the wall. It had been so long since she’d drunk down life. The hunger rose, insistent and oblivious. Her other powers were dampened, unable to resist. Evelina sucked in breath after breath, unable to get enough air.

And then the hunger lunged. A taste that wasn’t a taste filled her senses—something spun of honey and champagne and sunlight. Or it should have been, except the man’s life tasted stale. Disappointment wrenched her, but she quickly forgot it as the rush of energy hit her, drawing a noise of relief from her throat. It was a primitive, animal response. She’d been so hungry , but now she was strong again, strong in a way that she hadn’t been since giving up her studies with Magnus.

It all happened in a matter of seconds, though it seemed to go on for a lifetime. A sense of warning opened her eyes and she drew herself up to see the other guards rushing down the hall, drawn by the sound of the shot.

For a fleeting moment, that reptilian hunger wanted them, too, but then Holmes burst through the stillroom door. “Evelina!”

She plunged after him, diving past the shelves of glassware and into the open air. The next instant, the moonlit, crystalline night soared above her. Evelina could feel the power of the other magic users crackle through the air. She stopped running, suddenly caught in the ecstasy of that much magic. She’d always worked alone, or with Nick, but never like this—part of an enormous web driven by a single purpose.

Holmes grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the dairy barn. Snapped back to herself, she heard the thunder of the guards’ heavy boots. A shot fired, alerting the others who were watching the yard. Deep, angry shouts filled the night.