Page 6 of Dark Embrace

Through the open door, Kjell watched the dawn until the bright ball of the sun was surrounded by a sky of uninterrupted blue. And then the man, this nameless man, this monster stepped through the doorway and stood in the light, arms outstretched to his sides. As Kjell watched, the stranger crumbled to ash, his clothes falling in a loose pile to mark the place he had laststood.

3

Weeks passedand the whispers about the strange deaths at King’s Collegewaned.

As was her habit, Sarah crept through her lodging house long before dawn, taking care to avoid the creaking stair and the floorboard in the corridor that groaned under the slightest weight. The building was old, musty, her chamber small and dark and damp, but it was inexpensive and the landlady was kind, both high recommendations as far as Sarah wasconcerned.

She had seen Mr. Thayne several times in the wards in recent days; there was nothing unusualinthat.

She had dreamed of him last night; there was nothing unusual in that either. In her dream, he had stood between her and the shadowy form that followed her through the alleys of St. Giles. An interesting thing, given that she had not been plagued by the man who watched her in over a week. She almost dared hope that she had imagined the whole of it, that there was no man, no shadow, nothreat.

As she passed the open door to the dining room, her landlady’s voice carried from the darkness, slurred words and a petulant tone. “Rent’s due. And why’re you leaving soearly?”

Sarah turned and lifted her candle to find Mrs. Cowden sitting on a chair in the dining room, elbows on the table, palms cupping her chin. There was an empty bottle of gin lying on its side on thefloor.

“Have you been here all night?” Sarah asked as she retrieved the empty bottle and set it upright on thetable.

“I have,” Mrs. Cowden said. “My bed seemed too far away. Too quiet.” She paused. “Mr. Cowden’s been gone a year today. Or was it yesterday?” She paused again. “He used to make me laugh. We’d laugh and talk and sometimes he’d hum a tune and grab me about the waist and dance me around the parlor.” She looked around as though expecting Mr. Cowden to step from the shadows at any second. Then she closed her eyes, lowered her forearms to the tabletop, and fell forward to rest her forehead on her crossed wrists. Just when Sarah thought she was asleep, she sat up straight and pinned Sarah with a sorrowful gaze. “It’s a heartsick thing, missing someoneyoulove.”

“Come along, now,” Sarah said holding out her hand. “I’ll help you to bed. But we must be quick. I can’tbelate.”

Mrs. Cowden ignored the offer of her hand. Instead, she patted the chair beside her. “Sit,” she said. “Talk to me. Talk to me for just a little while. I amlonely.”

A heaviness settled in the center of Sarah’s chest, the weight challenging her every breath. But she refused to succumb to melancholy. “How can you be lonely when your house is full of people?” she asked with a forcedsmile.

“They’re gone all day, working for the coin to pay the rent. And they sleep all night. And even when they are about, they are not him. I feel as if my arm is missing. My right arm.” Mrs. Cowden sighed. “I misshimso.”

Sarah swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Iknow.”

Peering up at her with a poorly focused gaze, Mrs. Cowden said, “Rent’sdue.”

Sarah patted her hand. “I paid the rent threedaysago.”

Mrs. Cowden narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t lie to an old lady, would you?” She frowned and lifted a finger. “No…wait…youdidpay the rent. I remember now. You are a good girl. Smart, too.” She stared up at Sarah, her brown eyes unfocused. Seconds ticked past then Mrs. Cowden asked, “What do you want, my dear? Truly want? Surely it is more than what you have. You should have more, a girllikeyou…”

Sarah hesitated, then said, “I want manythings.”

“A handsome husband. Children. All women want that,” Mrs. Cowden said with a nod, and Sarah made no effort to correct her. It wasn’t that shedidn’twant a husband and children. It was that she wanted many other things as well, most of which she would likelyneverhave.

“I wanted children,” Mrs. Cowden said. “I had three,youknow.”

“I know,” Sarah said, and rubbed the woman’sshoulder.

“They all died. Babes so small, dressed in white, sleeping in tiny coffins. I wanted more, but they never came. Mr. Cowden said we had each other and we were blessed to have that. He said that wanting more would only make me cry.” Tears welled and spilled over Mrs. Cowden’s lower lashes to wet her wrinkled cheeks. “He’s dead,” she said. “Dead and buried.” She caught Sarah’s hand, squeezing hard, her gaze intent. “Tell me, my dear. Tell me one thing you want with all your heart. I know it is something grand.” She nodded. “Iknow.”

Sarah saidnothing.

“Tell me,” Mrs. Cowden whispered, the words thick and slow. Then her gaze grew unfocused once more, her grip loosened, and she slumped forward, her cheek pressed to thetable.

“What do I truly want?” Sarah said as Mrs. Cowden emitted a soft snore. “I want to ease the suffering of others. I want tolearn, to become a vessel of great knowledge, to satisfy the curiosity that burns inside me.” She bent and retrieved Mrs. Cowden’s shawl from the floor. “I want friendships that feed my mind and soul with lively discourse and debate. I want to be a surgeon.” She set the shawl around the woman’s shoulders and stroked her back. “I want to have a great and terrible love, one that is worth anyprice.”

They were dreams. Only dreams. But dreams were the food of the soul and Sarah refused to stop dreaming, no matter how unlikely her success and how meager her circumstance. “I want a life well lived,” she whispered. “One thatmatters.”

But another soft snore told her only the shadows werelistening.

She snuffed the candle and left the room, left the house, and began her walk to King’sCollege.

The grim weather of the past week had eased, leaving the temperature cold and crisp. No rain. No clouds. Only the dark predawn sky. And the sound of footstepsbehindher.