Beloved Monster (16 page)

“I am not sure we should take what is between us to the inevitable conclusion,” Luke said. “There are too many unanswered questions about my past and my future. These clothes, for one thing. They are expertly tailored, expensive, and they fit rather too well. You said you bought these from the vicar.”

Her smile disappeared and she glanced into the contents of her cup. “Yes, I did.”

“And he acquired them from whom?”

“He stated the garments came from an anonymous donor,” she answered with wariness in her tone.

He nodded, his mouth twisting. “Right. A ‘recently deceased man.’ Who happens to be my exact height and build? Perhaps I should seek out this vicar and inquire further.”

Glenna remained silent and a little furrow settled between her brows.
Ah.
What are the odds they happened upon his former wardrobe? Did he come from this area? Or someplace nearby? Is that the main reason they hid him in the cellar? More questions with no answers. Instead of showing his frustration and his simmering anger, he tucked it away. For now. Bullying her to respond to his queries would not further his cause; in fact, it could harm the relationship growing between them. But how could it grow into more if she continued to lie and prevaricate?

“I… I am not sure the vicar could offer any additional information. If you wish I could drop by and ask him.” Her voice was quiet, but shook slightly. From her reaction, it was obvious she lied to him. And the lie felt very much as if she stabbed him in the heart with a dull blade. A hurtful betrayal. So much for the intimacy they had gained tonight.

Luke stood. “It is no matter.” He could lie too as it mattered a good deal. Like Reed offering to write the surgeon who supposedly found his body. All of it…prevarications and mendacity. “Suddenly, I am feeling fatigued. I bid you good night.” He turned on his heel, left the room, and made his way to the kitchen downstairs.

Fresh air.
He needed to breathe fresh, clean, honest air. Luke barreled through the back entrance and out into the night. Taking deep inhales and exhaling slowly, he reached for the tree limb he left near the door and began to walk briskly. Thankfully his leg was all but healed. The wind howled in the trees, but he had no idea just how cold the wind was, since his entire body still crackled with awareness from Glenna’s touch. Only she gave him any warmth. Not the bright sun or a roaring fire. Nothing but
her
.

Although his heart chilled at the thought of her continuous lies. Should he seek out this vicar tonight? A poor thought as he had no idea where to search, though the night lay before him to wander about the countryside until he did locate him. Shouldn’t be difficult, merely look for the steeple of a church and he would find the man readily enough.
Patience.
Gather the information and form a working, intelligent plan. By the time he circled back toward the Parker residence, he’d walked off a good deal of his anger and frustration. Tossing the walking stick aside, Luke sat on a large stone, then glanced at the night sky above. Gray clouds covered most of the stars and the moon, casting little illumination. Bleak darkness, a somber wind and…

Luke strained to hear the sound again. A weak, mournful meow. He looked down. A small black cat shivered against his leg. The animal looked up at him with beseeching, yellow eyes and meowed again, then rubbed his head against Luke’s trousers. The chill around his heart dissipated a bit. Reaching down, he clasped the skin-and-bones feline and sat the animal on his lap.

“All alone, I see.” Luke ran his right hand across the cat’s back, and it began to purr. “And you are missing clumps of fur. You were in a fight, I’ll wager. Did you win?” he whispered.

The cat gave him a forlorn mew. “Ah, well. I am sure you tried your best. Are you male or female?” Luke explored. “A lad, then. Two rejects together. And I will bet you are hungry.” What in hell was he doing? Common sense told him to set the animal down and go inside. As he was about to do that very thing, the lonesome cat licked his hand with its rough tongue, giving him thanks for the kindness. In that moment, his heart melted. After such a show of affection, he could not toss this poor, pathetic creature to the wilds, for he knew all too well what that was like. To not know what the future will bring, or the present for that matter. And in his own individual case, no inkling of the past. He stood, cradling the quivering cat in his arms and headed toward the servants’ entrance.

Once in the kitchen, he located the larder and confiscated a piece of ham and a bowl. Silently, he descended the stairs and the cat, as if sensing they could be found out, also remained quiet as it curled in close to his chest. He locked the door behind him and headed to the study. After he set the cat on the floor, he poured water from the pitcher into the bowl and placed it in front of the emaciated feline who drank greedily. The room was alight from the crackling fire, and he could see the cat had indeed been in a recent fight. Deep gouges and claw marks branded his back and one great slash was visible on his face. The animal was lucky he did not lose an eye. They were two of a kind. Alone and scarred. Outcasts. Unwanted and alone. Luke’s lips quirked in amusement at the comparison.

He settled on the leather sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him. A soft, questioning meow caught his attention, and Luke scooped up the cat and deposited it on his lap. Tearing off small pieces of ham, he feed the feline while popping a few pieces into his own mouth. Full and content, the cat crawled halfway up his chest, then settled its paws around Luke’s neck as if embracing him. The cat drifted off to sleep. For the first time in his short memory, something resembling peace settled over Luke.

He now knew what it was to be needed.

The next morning, Glenna awoke after a restless sleep. Many potent emotions kept her mind active most of the night. How shocking that she touched him in such a way, bringing him to completion. Her hand still burned from holding the male part of him.
My.
Luke’s reaction gave her quite a thrill. When he offered to do the same for her, she had been sorely tempted. In truth, stroking him overwhelmed her, and she needed the time to become used to her own passions. Too bad the night ended on such a sour note. Clearly, he was annoyed with her when he marched from her room.

Once she performed her ablutions and consumed a quick but hearty breakfast of toast, cheese, and oatmeal, she gathered up bits of food, announcing to the servants the repast was for Reed, then headed downstairs. Since Luke was angry when he’d left last night as much as he tried to conceal it, perhaps plying him with food would soften his mood. Couldn’t blame him, as he was well aware she’d lied and his chilly response cut clear to her soul. This charade could not continue much longer. Reed must be made to understand they had to tell Luke the truth. Immediately.

After unlocking the large oak door, she slipped in and secured it. Inside the lab, Reed was peering through a microscope while Luke sat in a chair nearby reading
Bleak House
. Her heart stuttered in her chest at the sight of him, his legs crossed, holding the book in his right hand, looking every inch the aristocrat he once was. It was then she noticed a small, black cat curled in his lap.

“Who is this?” she asked, surprised. Glenna sat the tray with bread, cheese, and fruit on the table.

“Who indeed?” Reed replied. “Luke brought in a stray. I was not even aware he had been going out at night.”

“I return, do I not?” Luke snapped. “I gave you my word. Besides, did you not bring in a stray…me? What is one more scarred creature to add to this farce?”

“What if you are seen?” Reed hissed through clenched teeth. “What if the servants hear the beast screeching at the moon at all hours?”

Luke scratched the cat under the chin, and it purred in response. “I assume you mean the cat and not I. Noir will not disturb anyone. If by some chance he does, say it is your pet. Just as I am yours.”

Glenna was shocked at the vitriol in Luke’s voice.
Creature? Farce?
He never spoke in that tone before, well, except when they were alone in the parlor. Though she’d been in the lab several minutes, he had not looked at her yet, and it hurt. Apparently he was angrier than she first believed. She glanced at the small cat. “He’s injured,” she exclaimed

Luke gently rubbed Noir’s ear and said without glancing up, “Reed attended to his cuts. He will heal.” He kissed the feline on the head and placed him on the floor. The cat moved slowly but purposely toward the study, swishing his tail as if wondering where it would explore next. Glenna felt a stab of envy at Noir for receiving such tender, caring affection.
Jealous of a cat.
Good heavens.

“What is the verdict?” she asked Reed. Luke finally glanced up and gave her a brief look that did not contain much warmth.
Oh, blast.
He
was
still annoyed about her rather lame fabrication about the clothes.

“There is an abnormal amount of prothrombin in Luke’s blood; it’s a protein that allows blood to clot. It explains why Luke’s cuts and bruises heal quickly. What is strange is that every time I test the blood, the amounts differ. Sometimes he has less than normal amounts, other times more than the normal amount. It is as if his body spontaneously decides when and where he needs to heal. Some parts are repaired, others are not. I am at a loss.” Reed reached for a piece of cheese and popped it into his mouth and chewed as he paced about the room.

“Then why haven’t my scars disappeared? Or this gaping hole in the side of my head? Or the few abrasions on my chest? Or this wretched hand? Explain that, Professor.”

“I cannot. Perhaps your healing abilities only extend so far. It cannot muster enough to replace missing bone, but fractures or breaks in existing bone are quite doable. As to your facial scars, again, I am at a loss. As for the hand, it is not yours. It is the only explanation I can come up with for why the cuts and calluses on it have not healed. Perhaps it too is beyond your body’s capacities.”

“Or they will stay with me always to remind me of my unnatural state. Perhaps there are more Gothic undertones at work here. I wear the sins of my previous life, and they will mark me for the rest of my days,” Luke stated. His voice was even, the explanation matter-of-fact. Glenna could hear no self-pity in his tone.

“Oh, come now. That’s rather dramatic and farfetched,” Reed scoffed. “The stuff of overwrought novels.”

“This whole situation is farfetched and overwrought,” Luke murmured.

Goodness, had Luke hit upon a grain of truth? Could there be more going on here than the scientific? “The scars have lessened in prominence, though,” Glenna interjected. “Not as red or swollen.”

“True, and who is to say they will not fade more over time? Luke’s body is in a constant state of mutation. Whatever his body needs, it focuses on that particular area. Bone needs to mend? His body works overtime to produce new cartilage or bone tissue. While this process in you or I would take weeks, for Luke, it took a few days at most. So in conclusion, we can surmise repairs are possible, but replacing missing bone is not.”

He turned to face Luke. “Let us review the facts. The injury to your brain was fatal. Even if by some slim chance you managed to recover, you would have been a drooling simpleton. But here you are.” Reed began rubbing his chin. “I believe the metal plate on the side of your head acted as a conduit for the electricity. It repaired your brain. When you first awoke, you could not move or speak, or as you informed me later, even see clearly. But in less than twenty-four hours the paralysis dissipated, your eyesight cleared, and you could begin to form words.”

Luke slammed his book shut. “Logical. But to use your theory, why is my mind still locked in darkness? Why can I not disengage my past memories?”

Reed leaned against the exam table. “The mind is a labyrinth of tangled nerves and synapses that function differently for each individual. The electricity from the generator and the storm altered your body chemistry, that fact has been proven. Perhaps the shock of that change has thrown up a barrier in your mind. It is hard to ascertain if the barrier is temporary or permanent. Sometimes with amnesia victims all it takes is an object to jog the memory, or a location they were at before or even an odor.” Reed shrugged. “I think it best we let it happen naturally.”

Glenna more or less came to the same conclusion, but none of Ravenswood’s clothes or personal items managed to knock the barricade down. Though Luke suspected the clothes may be his. Perhaps he would never remember. Perhaps it was a blessing. How confusing, she did not know what to think.

Reed continued. “I heard you playing the piano several days ago. We have no idea if you were capable of playing it before.” Glenna gave Reed a warning look. She did inform him Luke did not play previous. “For the sake of argument, let us say you did not. Now you play as a proficient. Your head injury is confined to the left side, and according to recent research from both a French and a German physician, the left side of the brain is believed to be responsible for more creative purposes. The electricity running through the metal plate not only repaired your diminished brain function, but stimulated your creative side.”

Luke considered the information as if filing it away, but did not respond. To Glenna, it made perfect sense. What else could he do that he could not accomplish before? Paint portraits or landscapes? Write a sonnet? Sing an aria?

“That is all quite interesting. However, I wish to know this: What has been the result of your inquiries?” Luke asked pointedly. “You said last week you would be questioning how I arrived at the surgeon’s. Where the sawbones acquired me and from whom. Have you received any answers?”

Reed shrugged. “I sent the surgeon a letter. He may not have received it as yet. These things take time.”

Luke’s expression turned dark and ominous. “You should have showed me the letter before you posted it.”

“You do not trust me?” Reed questioned, his eyebrows arched.

“Not entirely, no. While we are at it, Glenna tells me these magnificently tailored and fitted clothes came from the vicar. Perhaps we should include him in our inquiries.”