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“What? What am I?”

“Bloody hell, I’m not ready to say,” he growled.

She did not shrink away, but stepped closer, so close her skirts brushed his trouser leg. “You didn’t know what its effect would be?”

“Rathburn formulated it. We did not go over every possibility for its use.”

“Rathburn. . he called you an old friend. But he is old, and you are not. What will you tell him now? Mr St Vinet, what will you tell me?”

“That I have, without your permission or consent. .”

“Yes. .”

“Turned you into an immortal.”

Unable to watch her reaction, he gave her his back, and strode a few feet across the grass to snatch up his hat from the ground. He lowered it on to his head, and waited for the disbelief. The stuttered questions. The curses.

Her hands and arms were around his waist. Something flared, deep inside his chest.

He twisted round, facing her.

She smiled up at him. “Do you know what it’s like to be unafraid? Do you understand this gift you have given to me? It is as if I have been freed from a lifetime of imprisonment. I feel as if I am capable of anything.”

Her words assuaged much, but not all, of his guilt. Even so, to his pleasure, her hands spread across his chest and came up to his neck and his jaw. He had heard, but never observed for himself, that when the rare mortal was transformed into an immortal they experienced a wild euphoria for days, one that included. . certain urges.

She whispered, “St Vinet. . I can’t explain it, but I want nothing more than to be closer to you. . I need to be close to you. .”

He needed no further invitation. Amaranthines were a lusty lot, indulging when natural impulses struck. But with Malise there was something deeper. So deep he experienced only anguish that it had taken this long for them to stand face to face, breath to breath, when until now experience had told him he must forever stay away. From the moment their eyes had met, in Rathburn’s rooms at the hospital, she had captured him, heart and soul.

Their lips and bodies met in a mutual frenzy of desire. Within seconds, they fell to the cool grass, a tangle of limbs, garments and bared skin.

St Vinet lifted his head. “Agh! Wait. Stop.”

“What is it?” she asked dazedly.

“We’ve no time for this—”

Malise nodded. “The Seethers. . they are still out there.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “The newer Seethers, the Ancillaries, usually hibernate for a good two days before starting their mayhem, so there’s time to track them but I need more of Rathburn’s elixir in order to save them all. It’s Ether I’ve got to find tonight.”

“Let me help you.” She re-buttoned her bodice. “He put a blade in my heart. Revenge sounds like a rather sweet pursuit.”

“Rathburn.“ Dominic spun away from her, staring into the night.

“What is it?”

“I must go to him. Immediately.”

“How do you know?”

“He has summoned me.”

“I thought he was mortal.”

“He is mortal. If I were to attempt communication with him, he would never perceive my efforts but when his emotions are intense and insistent, I can sense them across land and sea. He knows this and in this way he has called out to me.”

“What is wrong?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that he’s in danger. It has to be the Seether.”

“Ether,” whispered Malise.

They crossed the park and emerged on to the cobblestones. Dominic shook awake the driver of a hansom and instructed him to convey them to Winterview. The streets were near empty, so their travel occurred with speed. As they grew nearer to the hospital, an orange light illuminated the sky, the distinct colour of flame.

The hansom shook and jerked to a stop. Even from this distance, Malise felt the heat on her skin and smelled the smoke. She leaned forward in her seat and grasped the door handle. St Vinet seized her arm, holding her back.

“Stay here, Malise.”

“No, I won’t. I care for him too. Perhaps even more than you.”

Stepping down from the hansom, they raced across the lawn, passing residents in their nightclothes, seated in chairs and bundled up against the chill. Nurses moved to and fro, tending to the elderly residents. Three different fire brigades directed thick streams of water into the blaze.

“Nurse Bristol,” shouted a nurse.

“Where is Mr Rathburn?” Malise enquired, her voice husky with urgency.

The nurse stared, wide-eyed. “You. . you look so different.”

“Mr Rathburn! Where is he?” shouted Malise, gripping the woman’s arm.

“We got everyone else out.” The nurse peered toward the upper floors. “Everyone but Mr Rathburn. Nurse Henry said she would bring him down. She and that visiting physician, Dr Ether. They were so very brave, going straight up into the flames.”

Dominic strode toward the burning structure. Malise joined him.

He growled, “I suspect Nurse Henry is an Ancillary, here to set the stage for Ether’s arrival.”

Malise added, “There were other nurses too, only recently hired. They helped Ether bind me to the wheel.”

They grew closer to the hospital. The heat intensified but did not scorch Malise’s skin. In that moment, a great crash sounded, and the lower floor buckled. The roof sagged and collapsed inward. Flames blazed out from the gaping hole.

“Oh, my God,” Dominic’s face paled. “We’re too late.”

“No!” Malise cried, tears glazing her eyes. “Mr Rathburn!”

St Vinet’s arm came round her, bringing her close to his side. Bending down, he pressed his lips to her tears. Winterview was now nothing more than a great burning heap. Rathburn, his mentor and friend, was dead.

A stream of carriages arrived and soon all of the residents were whisked away to other lodgings. Their cause lost, the firemen retreated. Wagons returned to the street, they rolled their hoses and prepared to depart.

A voice sounded behind them. “Don’t tell me you’re going to stand here all night when there’s a Seether to be Reclaimed.”

Malise turned. A tall figure strode towards them, a charred, still-smoking leather case in hand. As he drew nearer, the light from the flames illuminated his features — those of a young man in the prime of his life. She recognized him from the tintypes in Mr Rathburn’s room.

In shock, Malise broke free of Dominic’s embrace and raced towards the one who approached them.

“Mr Rathburn,” she exclaimed, reaching out to touch his face. “It’s you.”

He dropped the case, and seized her up into his arms.

“I like the hair,” he murmured. “It and immortality suit you.”

“What in the hell?” Dominic demanded, the intensity of his fury hotter than any inferno. “You played me for a fool. All these years, you were simply playing a part.”

Anson released Malise and turned towards him. “No, I truly aged. There’s a way, little known and I begged the approval of The Primordial Council. But the method is dangerous. A gamble. I was never certain once I’d let things go this far that I’d be able to return from the brink. But remember, St Vinet, the process by which we are all given our immortality. We are baptized in fire — and fire reversed the process of my aging and returned me to my true, immortal state.”

Dominic said, “But you gave up your immortality when you wed the mortal woman. Once you’ve relinquished your immortality, you can never go back.”

Anson shook his head. “I never relinquished my immortality. I simply allowed my physical body to age. I loved Lavinia. She wanted someone to grow old with. She deserved that much. By then, you were already so furious with me for marrying her — curse your bloody temper — I let you believe as well. Then Ether returned, seeking revenge. I thought I’d already Reclaimed him with one of my elixirs but the formula was faulty. Though weakened, he murdered Lavinia, then disappeared. Disappeared so completely, I feared I would never have my revenge upon him. So I took a chance. The chance that he hated me so greatly that as he regained his strength, while he was watching and waiting, he would one day reappear when I was at my oldest and my weakest.”