The Mystery Woman (Ladies of Lantern Str - By Amanda Quick Page 0,97
My daughter will have been awakened.”
“You cannot run far enough to escape Joshua, you must know that.”
“I do not intend to run.” Victor looked down at the sarcophagus. “All I care about is Emma.”
Clement snorted. “I assure you, Gage will not survive the next twenty-four hours. Even if he escapes the Bone Man’s knife, he will die in this house when he comes looking for you.”
“You have tried to kill him before and failed,” Beatrice said. “What makes you think you will succeed this time?”
Clement’s eyes heated with a savage madness. “Things were not entirely under our control on previous occasions. But if Josh comes looking for you again, he will be on my ground.”
She glanced around the room again. “You refer to this chamber?”
“The stairs and hallway that lead to this laboratory are set with a number of traps. Each contains a canister of my nightmare-inducing vapor. Only Victor and I know the safe route to this room. Anyone else who attempts to climb the staircase will die a slow and terrible death.”
“Why don’t you tell me precisely what it is you expect me to do for you?” she said.
“Yes,” Victor said, his tone sharpening. “It is time.”
“Come with me, Miss Lockwood,” Clement said.
He turned and led the way across the chamber to the sarcophagus. She followed him slowly, struggling to suppress her senses. But no matter how she tried to lower her talent she could not entirely escape the traces of decay and death that permeated the atmosphere around the ancient coffin.
Clement walked around the sarcophagus and faced her from the opposite side.
“Behold my beloved,” he said. “Tonight you will awaken her.”
Beatrice had tried to prepare herself for what she would see when they pushed the lid of the sarcophagus aside. She dreaded the sight but she reminded herself it would not be the first dead body she had viewed.
She was wholly unprepared to discover that the lid of the sarcophagus was fitted with a large panel of transparent crystal. Beneath the clear plate the body of a perfectly preserved woman floated gently in a clear liquid. She was dressed in a prim white nightgown. The hem of the garment was secured to her ankles to keep it from floating up above her knees. Her dark hair drifted around her beautiful face. Her eyes were closed.
Beatrice stopped a short distance away and fought to breathe.
“Dear heaven,” she whispered. “This is Emma.”
“Yes,” Victor said. “She is in a very deep sleep. You see now why I have gone to such lengths to revive her.”
Clement looked down at the dead woman. “Beautiful, is she not?”
Beatrice swallowed hard, trying to suppress the queasy sensation in her stomach. It was not just Emma’s beauty that had been so artfully preserved. The bruises around her throat were as vivid as if she had been strangled yesterday.
“She was, indeed, quite lovely,” Beatrice said quietly.
Clement’s eyes heated again. “She is lovely.”
“She is dead,” Beatrice said flatly. “There is nothing I or anyone else can do to bring her back to life.”
Victor’s eyes darkened with desperation and grim resolve. “She is not dead.”
“She’s asleep,” Clement hissed. “A very deep sleep, but a sleeping state, nonetheless. It’s called suspended animation.”
“I confess I am astonished by the preservative effects of the formula that you have used to keep her body looking so alive, but death is death,” Beatrice said.
“Damn you,” Clement snarled. He came around the end of the sarcophagus. “You are no scientist. You know nothing about chemistry.”
He reached for her throat with hands that trembled with fury. His eyes were on fire.
Beatrice stumbled backward so quickly that her heel caught in the hem of her gown. She went down hard on the floor.
Victor moved swiftly, stepping into Clement’s path. “Stop this foolishness. Have you forgotten that we require Miss Lockwood’s assistance in this matter?”
Clement halted abruptly. He blinked a couple of times as though dazed, took a deep breath and pulled himself together with a visible effort of will. The fires of madness dimmed in his eyes but not in his aura.
“Yes, of course,” he rasped.
Beatrice scrambled to her feet. Clement was not the only one struggling to breathe. Her heart was pounding with terror.
She backed away from the two men and came up hard against a workbench. She heard metal instruments rattle behind her but she ignored the sound, intent on finding a way out of the chamber.
But the only exit was the single door on the far side of the room. Victor and Clement