The Asylum Read online

  2

  Soon enough, the train chugged into Paddington Station, trailing a cloud of black smoke.

  The three of us moved swiftly and stealthily off the train and through the bustle of the platform. As we headed toward the exit, my eye landed on three policemen huddled in the center of the station. One turned toward me, his gaze resting on my face for a moment before moving on to scan the rest of the crowd. My shoulders relaxed. No one was suspicious of us.

  The area surrounding the station was a world away from the ornate buildings Damon preferred, all gilt and gleaming marble. These buildings were crowded together and boarded up, and no one seemed to be around. The air felt heavy, as if it held all the city’s dirt suspended around us.

  Dark clouds were gathering overhead. “Looks like it’s going to rain,” I said. I shook my head as soon as I said it, disgusted with my attempt at small talk. I sounded like a farmer talking to my neighbor.

  Simple Stefan, I imagined a smooth, dulcet voice teasing. I shook away the thought of Katherine.

  “I suppose so,” Damon said in his maddening noncommittal drawl, as though he was still in Virginia and had all the time in the world.

  “Are you boys just going to stand there, or are you ready to follow me?” Cora asked, putting her tiny hands on her hips.

  Damon and I glanced at each other and nodded. “We’re ready if you are,” Damon said.

  Cora quickly got her bearings, then took off through the winding, sprawling streets of West London toward the sludgy, slow-moving River Thames. I used to think the Thames was majestic, flowing into the Atlantic Ocean and connecting London to the world. Now, it looked murky and malevolent. I followed a few steps behind Cora, alert to any signs of Samuel, outraged citizens, or the Metropolitan Police. Every so often, I’d see a tumble of chestnut- brown curls cascading down a slim back and would glance quickly away. Even now, when I had so much on my mind, Katherine haunted me.

  As we continued to walk along the river toward the pedestrian bridge across the Thames, familiar sights of London loomed before us. I could see the domed chapel of St. Paul’s Cathedral, and farther down, Big Ben. Beyond that were warehouses that abutted the river. The warehouses where Samuel had held Cora under compulsion and where Violet had been turned into a vampire. London was a study in contrasts, with the church spires that reached toward the heavens masking the hellish underbelly that we were steeped in.

  Soon, we found ourselves on the Strand, the street closest to the Thames and one of the city’s commercial epicenters. I caught a few people staring at us suspiciously. I wasn’t surprised. In our bloodstained, dirt-caked clothes, we looked worse than the beggars who often hung about the city squares.

  “We’re almost there,” Cora said, also sensing the sideways glances of passersby. She smoothed her dress, put back her shoulders, and marched across the bridge without a backward glance.

  “She’s a good one to have around,” Damon observed as he fell into step beside me.

  “She is,” I agreed. For once, my brother and I were on the same page.

  On the opposite bank, Cora neatly turned down a set of winding stone steps leading to the edge of the river. The area under the bridge housed nothing apart from a giant hole in the ground, covered over with wooden planks and iron beams. This must have been a construction site for an Underground station. I remembered George Abbott telling me about these trains. The plan was to connect all of London via a web of underground train tunnels. The city’s goal was to have a functional line by the turn of the century. But judging by the state of the hole, the crew wasn’t in any hurry. The area looked abandoned.

  I trailed behind Cora like an obedient puppy as she picked her way through the site. A KEEP OUT sign was tacked on a nearby post and a low post and wire fence surrounded the hole. Some worker had made a halfhearted attempt to cover the opening with a sheet of canvas, but I could see the top of a thin wooden ladder poking out. Cora stopped nearby.

  “It’s not exactly the Cumberland Hotel, is it, brother?” Damon asked wryly.

  She ignored Damon’s quip, focused on the task at hand. “We can get down this way,” she said, climbing over the makeshift fence.

  “But is it safe?” I asked skeptically. How did Cora know how to sneak into the Underground?

  “Of course. Violet and I slept here once, so if it’s safe enough for two women, it should be safe for any vampire,” Cora said. Her voice had a teasing edge to it.

  “You slept down here by yourselves?”

  Cora shrugged. “We didn’t have any money. We promised to pay the boardinghouse as soon as we had jobs, but they kicked us out. I knew we shouldn’t sleep on the streets, so we used to walk all night. We’d start by the Ten Bells and then make our way over to here. We’d follow the river and tell each other stories to pass the time. We’d let ourselves rest as soon as it got to be light. But then one night, Violet was near delusional with exhaustion, and we found this,” she explained, gesturing to the tunnel. “It’s shelter, and when you’re friendless and surrounded by enemies, there’s no place better,” she said, arching an eyebrow at Damon as she yanked the canvas back and swung one leg, then the other, onto the ladder. She clambered down into the darkness, quickly trailed by Damon.

  “Wait!” I called, but there was no answer. Just as I stepped onto the first shaky rung of the ladder, I heard a sickening thud from below.

  “Cora?” I called out desperately as I quickly climbed deeper into the pit. “Damon?”

  “Here!” Cora said. “I’m all right. Just mind—”

  I took a step, expecting to feel a rung below my feet. Instead, my foot fell through air, and I landed with a thud on my back.

  “—the drop.” Cora’s voice cut through the darkness.

  “I’m fine!” I said, quickly standing and brushing myself off. I let my eyes adjust to the light. We were in a cavernous tunnel that sprawled out in all directions. I could hear water dripping from an unseen source. I could also hear the faint sound of breathing, far off in the distance, although I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t merely my overactive, paranoid imagination.

  Damon’s eyes glittered in the darkness. “Well, you’ve told me often to go to hell. I believe we’ve arrived, haven’t we, brother?”

  “I think this is the ideal place to hide. But if you don’t like it, you can leave. I can find my sister by myself. I’m used to doing things on my own,” Cora said stonily.

  “You don’t have to,” I said. I wasn’t going to abandon Cora. I owed it to her to keep her safe. I may have failed her sister, but I wouldn’t fail her.

  “Stefan’s thrilled to help you,” Damon said sarcastically. “Now, I’m going to excuse myself. It’s been a terribly exciting day, and I must rest,” he said as he sauntered deeper into the tunnel.

  “Don’t you want to go, too? I’m fine by myself,” Cora said, stepping toward me.

  “No, I’m staying with you,” I said firmly.

  “Well, then, fair warning, I’m not the best company right now.” She walked a few paces away, where a man- made ledge was carved into the dirt wall. She climbed up and swung her legs back and forth. She looked more like a girl sitting on a porch swing at a summer barbecue than a woman surrounded by vampires, hiding out fifteen feet below sea level.

  “Cora…” I began. I wanted to let her know how much her sister had meant to me. “Even though I only knew her for a few days, I thought of Violet as a sister and…”

  Cora sighed. “I’m tired, and I’m sure you are, too. Please, can we just not talk?”

  “Of course,” I said quickly. I settled on the hard dirt floor. Not talking was probably for the best. Whenever I got too close to humans, something terrible happened. It had happened with Callie. It had happened with Violet. It had even happened with little Oliver. And I couldn’t let it happen anymore. And yet, I couldn’t help but want to comfort Cora in any way possible. After all, she must be terrified. If she kept all her emotions locked inside, they’d end up overwhelming
her. I knew that all too well.

  I squeezed my eyes shut so tightly I could see stars on the insides of my eyelids. If Lexi were here, she’d have suggested a cup of goat’s blood tea to feel better. If Lexi were here, I probably wouldn’t have gotten into this situation in the first place.

  Stop it, I said to myself. Feeling sorry for myself wouldn’t help matters. I needed to sleep. But lately, every time my eyes closed, my mind drifted to the root of my problems. How I’d become who I was now. I’d close my eyes, eager to untangle a complicated web of thoughts and emotions, only to be interrupted by the image of her porcelain face. Katherine. Her large, doelike eyes. Her lips, parting, ready to . . .

  Sc-ratch, sc-ratch. My eyes shot open. A rat was burrowing next to me, its beady eyes practically glowing in the darkness. Instinctively, I reached out, snapped its neck, and drank its blood in large, quick gulps.

  It was as foul as a pool of standing water, but it was something. Blood of any kind still had an intoxicating effect on me, tapping into a primal part of my being that I’d tried to suppress.

  It was only once the blood was rushing down my throat that I became aware of my surroundings again, and remembered Cora was only a few feet away. Pulling the dead animal from my lips, I leaned closer to her. Her breathing was as steady as ever. She must be asleep. Relieved she hadn’t witnessed my true nature, I laid back down, trying to find a comfortable position on the ground.

  And then a voice cut through the darkness like the light from a candle.

  “I hope you enjoyed your dinner.” Cora. But she didn’t sound frightened. Instead, she was equal parts curious and concerned.

  I felt shame rising like bile in the back of my throat, mingling with the acrid taste of blood from the rat. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, that I hadn’t meant for her to see that. “Good night,” Cora said, as if my midnight snack had been nothing but a glass of warm milk.

  I listened to the echo of her voice in the empty tunnel. “Good night,” I finally whispered back.

  But she didn’t answer.

  3

  Throughout the night, I could hear the clawing of rodents and the endless dripping of water. London seemed miles away, when, in reality, it was only a hundred or so feet above me. But despite the distractions, I somehow fell into a deep, dark sleep.

  …Until I felt that familiar paranoid tenseness—someone was watching me. I opened one eye, then another. A pale blue eye looked back. Scrambling backward and instantly fully awake, I realized I was mere inches from Cora.

  “What are you doing?” I asked roughly, running my tongue over my teeth, relieved to find that they were short and straight. As I stood, I heard the sickening crack of my joints. I may not have aged in two decades, but a year of living on the Abbott farm had softened me; I was no longer used to sleeping on the hard ground.

  Cora’s face fell. “I’m sorry,” she said, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. She smoothed the fabric of her skirts down over her legs. “I got frightened.” Her red hair was matted on one side of her head, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her skin was sallow, and her lips were cracked. It was odd to see her so vulnerable, after she’d been so strong the previous night. It was evident that she needed a friend. And truthfully, so did I.

  “It’s all right,” I said, softening my voice. “Sometimes I just don’t trust myself.”

  “Well, if you can’t trust yourself, then who could trust you?” Cora asked, her piercing gaze boring into me. “Besides, I don’t think I’ll ever be safe,” she said ruefully.

  An uncomfortable silence fell between us. Beyond the sounds of dripping water and scrambling rodents, I could hear a symphony of human sounds from far off in the tunnel: coughing, limbs creaking, a steady thrum of hearts pumping blood through bodies. Our immediate vicinity was deserted, and I knew Cora couldn’t hear our neighbors like I could. But we weren’t the only inhabitants of the Underground. I wondered if that was why Damon had been in such a hurry to leave us.

  “He’s feeding, isn’t he?” Cora asked, reading my mind.

  “Most likely,” I said. I sat back on the ground, the dust settling around me. In the darkness of the tunnel, it was impossible to tell whether it was night or day. Not like it mattered much. Without a plan, we were in limbo.

  “You saw me feed last night.” It was not a question.

  Cora nodded. “I heard the snap of bones breaking, so I looked over. It wasn’t terrible. Not so different than watching some of the men at the Tavern slurp soup. You don’t frighten me, Stefan,” she said, as though it were a challenge.

  “Does Damon?”

  Cora shook her head, a faraway expression in her eyes. “No. Maybe he should. But he doesn’t. If anything, Damon … what’s the opposite of fright?” Cora asked, biting her lip.

  “I suppose the opposite would be comfort,” I said, mystified as to how we’d gotten into this thread of conversation.

  “Comfort … no, not that,” Cora mused. A small smile appeared on her pale face. “I think you’re more comforting, even if you are very destructive to rodents. Damon keeps me … sharp. He makes me think. I feel like there’s an edge to him, and you always have to be at the top of your game. I never would have thought of him stealing the conductor’s clothes on my own. It only came to me when I was watching him.”

  “It was a good idea,” I said, thinking it was she, not Damon, who was sharp. She’d known about this tunnel, after all.

  “Well, thank you. I only hope I keep coming up with them,” Cora said, smiling slightly. Then she turned away. “Do you think Violet is drinking human blood?”

  “Yes.” There was no reason to sugarcoat the subject. If Violet was with Samuel, she most certainly was drinking human blood. The only uncertainty was who her food supply would be—a compelled blood-slave or some poor soul soon to be considered another one of Jack the Ripper’s bloody conquests.

  “What’s it like?” she asked, whispering even though no one else could hear us.

  “It’s… “I paused. What was feeding like? I’d spent decades trying to forget. But as soon as she asked, I remembered the warm, rich taste of human blood. Of course, I wanted to say that it was terrible, that Violet wasn’t enjoying it, and that she’d stop as soon as we were able to find her and pull her out of Samuel’s clutches. But that wouldn’t be true.

  “It’s like nothing anyone could imagine unless they’ve tried it. I suppose it’s like coming into a firelit room after spending a night sleeping in the rain.” I had no idea where the comparison came from, but it was remarkably apt. Human blood made me feel whole, warm, alive in a way that animal blood didn’t.

  “So … why would anyone stop?” Cora asked.

  I shrugged. “A lot don’t. But there are benefits to abstaining from human blood. I can still feel things, feel emotions like I could when I was human. The need for blood, the thirst, can become so overpowering that you have to shut them off when you’re feeding so you don’t think of the consequences. But without it, I don’t have to feel like a monster, or get lost in the darkness. When I see Violet, I’ll explain it to her. But for now, take comfort in the fact that she’s nourished, and she’s not in pain.”

  Cora shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t imagine her ever hurting a living thing,” she said quietly. “There was once a field mouse that had gotten into the house, and my mum was all set to kill it. Violet was about eight at the time, and she cried and cried until my mum set it loose. Vi even used to put out food for it, just in case it came back and was hungry.” Cora’s voice broke and she covered her face with her hands. “I just want to find her!” she yelled, the sound muffled by her fingers.

  “She’s not here, that’s for certain.” Damon strode out of the darkness, wiping his mouth. He was still wearing his blood-spattered clothes from the night before, but there were no longer dark circles under his eyes. Under the circumstances, he looked incredibly handsome. Cora dropped her hands to her lap and stared at him.

 
“Did you find your breakfast?” Cora asked tersely, her hand unconsciously brushing against her neck. An image flashed in my mind: Samuel, hunched down, fangs bared over Cora’s smooth skin. I wondered how often he had fed on her. And it might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw two tiny scars, small and round as pinheads and waxy pink in color, midway between her shoulder and her ear. I shuddered.

  An inscrutable expression crossed Damon’s face. “Yes, I did,” he said simply. “At first, I was simply making sure the tunnel was safe. And it is safe for us. There are a few souls down here, although none that will bother us. Everyone here is pretty bad off. It was rather easy to feed.”

  “So that’s what you did all night? And here I thought you might be coming up with a grand plan. Meanwhile, you were gorging yourself,” Cora said sternly. “I hope you catch a disease from one of these tunnel dwellers. It would serve you right.”

  “I won’t, Miss Cora,” Damon said, shifting from one foot to the other. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if Stefan here made himself sick. I’m sure he’s told you all about subsisting on bunnies from the forest, but look where he landed: the same place as me, stuck underground, the target of a vampire who needs to be cut down to size. There are ways to feed on humans and still care about them,” Damon said pointedly.

  I clenched my jaw and locked eyes with Cora. I wanted her to stand up for my beliefs and choices. I wanted her to remind Damon that not long ago, she’d been the one providing a blood supply to vampires. But instead, she merely looked disappointed.

  I paced away from Damon, knowing the worst thing I could do was jump into a fight. The peace we’d brokered after he’d saved my life yesterday was fragile at best, and I knew from experience how one simple word said in anger could turn us back into enemies. And we already had one enemy to contend with.

  I massaged my temples. The fetid, cloying dampness of the tunnel felt far too much like being entombed. “I think I need some fresh air. Cora?” I asked, offering my arm, knowing full well Damon couldn’t come with us when his face was in every major London newspaper.