Read Camille for Free Online Page B

to my
mouth. It was the tiniest sound, yet his head quickly turned, and
his eyes found me instantly. His heated gaze made my breath come in
short spurts. I dropped my arms and clenched my fists so hard,
fingernails bit into my palms. My first instinct was to pull back
out of view, but I found myself looking around the corner again. I
made not a sound, at least not a sound that a human could hear, and
his eyes flicked toward me.
    The cad continued to caress the girl’s
shoulder with his mouth, all the while staring at me. His glare
bordered on mischievous. The bloody bastard took pleasure in being
watched. He lifted his head and smiled wickedly at me before
returning his full attention to the girl. I stumbled back several
steps and raced to Whitechapel without looking back.
    Once lost in the melee of Whitechapel Road, I
stopped to catch my breath. My ears throbbed with the cold, and I
felt lightheaded. I unfurled my fingers. Thoughts tangled in my
head. I’d known full well that citizens on the East End behaved
differently. But this wasn’t about the way I’d seen Nathaniel
Strider behaving. This was envy over the girl he kissed.
    After Emily’s revelation the morning before
had settled in my mind, I realized I was less shocked than
resentful. Emily had someone to stroke her hair, someone to press
lips on her, someone to stare at her as if she were an angel. It
was the same jealousy I felt now about the girl who stood in the
alley being caressed by Nathaniel Strider’s mouth.
    My fingers lightly brushed my own lips. I
wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. Of course, I
could just ask any of the girls on the East End. That thought
extinguished my romantic notions instantly. Nathaniel Strider could
never love. He’d obviously discovered early on that girls’ hearts
were vulnerable, and all a lad needed was a penetrating gaze and a
disarming smile and the world was at his feet. For the moment, I’d
seen enough of my charge.
    My pace slowed considerably on my return
home. Dr. Bennett had a rather distorted view of my courage. I
wanted to end the midnight hunts more than he did, but I sensed
this plan of his would not end well for any of us. To find a way to
stop this in less than thirty days seemed no more possible than
stopping the moon from completing its cycle. And from the keen
sense of hearing and sight our specimen displayed in the shadows
between the buildings, it was obvious his transformation had
begun.
    Thirst and hunger made my head ache. The pear
drooped heavy in my pocket. I pulled it out and took a bite. A lure
for that rake? Not unless I tucked it between my breasts.
    The blur of people and animals made me dizzy.
I leaned against a lamppost to eat my fruit and watch the street
locksmith busy at his trade. A small girl stood patiently near her
father who waited for the locksmith to fashion a key. The girl
enjoyed her biscuit, taking no notice of the boisterous crowd
sweeping past or the waterfall of crumbs on her pink dress. My
spirits had sunk. It may have been my weakened state or the emotion
of the morning, but the whole scene in front of me triggered a
memory. The blood drained from my head, and I held onto the
lamppost for support. The image before me blurred as I remembered
back to a little girl in a pink dress licking a half-penny ice
while her father laughed with the local locksmith. I shook my head
to clear it.
    I dropped the half eaten pear and hurried
home. I’d had enough distress for the morning. Locating Strider
would not be a problem. He seemed to be getting around fine even
with the injured leg. Indeed, from what I had witnessed, Nathaniel
Strider was more than fine. I had no clue how to bring him home to
the lab. How could I possibly tempt him from the bevy of
enthusiastic girls he had waiting for him around every corner? Lost
in my worried thoughts, I pushed hastily past a boardman and
smacked my shoulder on his jutting sign.
    “Watch yourself, laddie,” the man called
after