Sylvia, however, gasped and almost dropped her teacup. "You think he wanted to dissect her to find a cure?" She turned quite pale. "Now I regret reading that book on biology last year."
"I'm not sure about dissection," Langley said. "But I do think he wanted to use her in some way." He frowned into his teacup. Something troubled him and from the look on his face, I'd wager he'd just thought of something he didn't know the answer to. The scientist in him must hate it.
Jack rose and stood over his uncle, his clenched fists at his sides. When he spoke, it was low and his jaw hardly moved. "You knew Tate wanted to use Hannah and yet you let her come after me?"
"I didn't let Hannah go," Langley said. "She went without permission. In case you haven't noticed, the girl has a will of her own and tends to follow it without thinking things through."
"I resent the accusation," I said. "I would not have gone if I'd known Tate was a fire starter himself." Probably not. Maybe. "Perhaps you ought to keep us all apprised of the villains you've fallen out with, Mr. Langley. Keeping secrets helps no one."
"Are you quite finished?" he said.
I sipped my tea. Jack moved to the window and leaned against the sill. He stared out to the abbey ruins beyond. Perhaps he was desperate to get into the cool air, to exercise the stiffness from his joints and the demons from his mind.
"How did Tate know about me?" I asked Langley. "When I introduced myself, he seemed to recognize my name, as I think you did when I first told you I was Hannah Smith. But if Tate connected me to being a fire starter, shouldn't he have thought my name was Violet, as you presumed?"
"Hannah Smith was the name of...someone we used to know. I didn't know you'd been given that name too. You were a baby when Reuben Tate and I first met you. You had no name then."
What parents didn't give their child a name? My parents, it seemed. Parents who died soon after the birth of their child.
"Is Hannah Smith my mother?"
"No."
"Then who is she?"
He didn't answer and I let the matter drop. There were more pressing questions to ask. "Is that why you want me? To study me and find a cure for Jack?"
"You are different than Jack. There'd be no point." It wasn't quite a no. "Tell me, was Reuben interested in Jack? Did he...want him the way he wanted you?"
I shook my head. "Just me."
Jack looked from me to Langley. He crossed his arms. "Why is that significant?"
"Your abilities are different than Reuben's and Hannah's," Langley said. "You can control your fire. They cannot."
"You've led us to believe that Hannah will learn."
"That's because I think she will, in time."
"But I didn't need to learn," Jack said quietly. "It's always been instinctive. I never questioned it too much, never thought too deeply about how it happened. Until I met you," he said to me. "Now I question everything."
"Why are we different?" I asked Langley. "Why did Tate want me and not Jack?"
"I can only guess it's because he thinks the cure for it is within you, not Jack. As to why Jack is different..." He sipped his tea. "I cannot say."
"He said he knew Jack as a baby. That means you did too. Is that because Jack really is your nephew or because he was part of an experiment?"
"I don't owe you an explanation about Jack, Hannah."
I expected Jack to question him further, but he did not. Why?
"Why does Tate want to be cured?" Sylvia asked, speaking after a long silence.
"I suppose because of the unpredictability of it. It can make going about one's daily business difficult."
"That is rather an understatement," I muttered. "Do you know why we three have this ability in the first place? There must be a reason."
Langley shrugged one shoulder. "I cannot say."
"Did you perform tests on us as children?"
"No."
"Was it something to do with a drug you were developing? Did you...change us somehow?"
"I did nothing of the sort. You've read too many of those horror novels Sylvia likes so much. I am not Dr. Frankenstein."
No, but sometimes I had the feeling I was the monster of the story.
"Did it have something to do with the Society For Supernatural Activity?" Jack asked, moving back toward our cluster of chairs.
Langley inclined his head. "He told you about it?"
"Who are they?"
"A group of men and women interested in the paranormal, those things which can't be explained by scientific means. Yet."
"You don't believe in the supernatural?" I asked.
He lifted his gaze to mine and held it. "I do believe, Hannah. I also think science can help us understand strange phenomena. It was an area I wanted to explore when I belonged to the Society years ago. Tate also belonged, and we researched some matters together. That's how we met."
"What matters?"
"The existence of spirits, angels, demons, that sort of thing."
"Demons!" Sylvia cried. Her hand fluttered to her chest. "Good lord. Ghosts I can accept, but demons? Surely not."
Langley didn't look at her. He didn't look at any of us. Bollard's hand curled around one handle of the wheelchair. The knuckles went white for a moment then he pulled away.
"Do they exist?" I asked. My heart raced. I didn't know when it had begun to beat so furiously, but it seemed to want to know the answer to the question very badly.
"I've found no proof to indicate they don't."
"Isn't that the wrong way around? Shouldn't you be proving that they do?"
"Members of the Society begin with the viewpoint that the supernatural is real."
"Do you still belong to the Society?" Jack asked.
"No. However, I have kept in touch with some current members. They come to me with questions every now and again."
"Why you?"
"I am the foremost microbiologist in the country."
And the one with the highest opinion of himself.
"Enough questions," he said, setting his teacup down on the table beside him. "Bollard."
"Wait." I leapt off the sofa and rested my hand on his wheelchair arm. If Bollard wanted to push forward, he could, but he did not. "How did you know I was at Windamere Manor when Tate didn't?"
He shook his head. "Bollard. Forward."
Jack put his hand on the other wheelchair arm. Bollard didn't try to move off. It seemed I wasn't the only one who wanted to know the answer, but to have Bollard on my side in this was a complete surprise.
Langley drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I sent you there to keep you away from Tate when you were a baby. I knew I couldn't trust him with you, knew he wanted to use you. I gave you to Lord Wade. He was a member of our Society and one of the few I could trust with a child's welfare."
"His way of caring for a child included locking her in the attic for years," Jack said. "Perhaps you should have tried harder to find someone else."
"I didn't expect him to do that, nor did I find out until very recently."
"Why did Lord Wade keep me and his daughter locked up in the attic?" I asked. "Me, I understand. I was dangerous and I wasn't his child. But Violet? It doesn't make sense."
"You'd have to ask him that. She's nothing to do with me."
"Very well." One day I would do exactly that. "Did you hypnotize me and give me narcolepsy?"
"No."
I sighed. Another thing to ask Wade. "So why kidnap me now, Mr. Langley? Does it have anything to do with Tate suddenly needing me?"
"He's always needed you. There's nothing sudden about it."
I was a little shocked and withdrew my hand from the chair arm.
"But not quite as badly as he needs her now," Jack muttered. "Because he's known where you live for some time, August, yet he only stole your papers a few nights ago. He was looking for her, wasn't he? Looking for some way to find her? Isn't that right?"