The Heartless City Read online

  A middle-aged woman was kneading dough beside a cluttered sink, where the boy dropped off his dishes and then rushed back out the door, too lost in a cloud of yearning to notice Elliot standing there. After a moment, the woman who must have been the cook stopped kneading, and Elliot sucked in a breath and clenched his fists against his legs. Grief flowed from her soul like surging blood from an open wound, so fresh and relentless that when she turned and walked out the door as well, Elliot had to close his eyes and fight tears as she passed him. At first, she didn’t notice him any more than the young boy had, but just before she reached the end of the hall, she glanced back around. Elliot opened his eyes, and when the two of them looked at each other, her grief sharpened and sank into his heart like jagged claws. Finally, she looked away and walked through the second doorway, and Elliot clutched his chest and let out an agonizing breath.

  “Psst! Iris! Is she gone?”

  The whisper came from within the kitchen, spoken by an unknown voice, and Elliot turned around and craned his head back through the doorway. He saw no one, so he edged inside and peeked around the corner, his heart leaping when Iris’s figure finally came into view. She was standing before a dusty mirror hanging on the wall, pulling her charcoal curls back from her face with the requisite ribbon.

  “Yes, she’s gone,” she replied to the voice. “But I wouldn’t chance it, Mae. She probably went to get a drink. She’ll be back any minute.”

  A note of sadness rose in her, and Elliot guessed she knew why the cook was carrying such grief.

  “I got time. She won’t even know the two of us was here.” Another petal-pink waitress scurried into Elliot’s view, cradling a small, grimy dog in her arms like a child. The sand-colored mutt, which looked to be a dachshund and terrier mix, whined until the girl, Mae, scratched its matted chin. “Poor little Boots,” she cooed. “It’s cold out there today, ain’t it, girl?”

  “She’ll notice it’s gone,” Iris warned, turning around to face her. “That dog isn’t worth getting sacked for.”

  “Nonsense,” Mae said, shoving Boots―who’d apparently been named for her white front paws―into Iris’s arms. “Now where is that blasted ham?” She walked to the counter and seized two slices of boiled ham from a tray, then returned to Iris and fed the meat to the salivating dog. “Poor little Boots,” she murmured again. “You was hungry, huh?”

  She grinned at Iris, and Iris smiled pleasantly in return, masking her disgust and irritation flawlessly. But then she looked up and caught sight of Elliot standing in the doorway, and every other feeling drowned in the wake of her disbelief.

  “Elliot?” she choked.

  Mae turned and saw him there as well, jerking upright and nearly dropping the ham on the floor.

  “Lordamercy,” she squeaked. “I’m sorry, sir. How can we help you?” But then she knit her brow and turned to Iris. “Wait, what did you call him?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Elliot said, taking a step toward them. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just wanted to speak to Iris.”

  Mae’s eyes bulged, and though Iris’s face remained impassive, her pulse leapt with a sudden electric thrill that charged his heart. He gripped the wall and tried to keep from grinning like a git.

  “I spoke with your manager. He told me it would be all right.”

  “All right,” she echoed, blinking and then glancing over at Mae. “I’ll take her back outside,” she said, nodding at the dog. Then she turned to Elliot. “Come on. We can go out here.”

  She carried Boots toward a door a few feet to her left, and Mae stared, drinking Elliot in from head to toe, envy and hunger twisting inside her stomach like a corkscrew. He hurried past her and followed Iris into an empty alley, rubbing his hands as she closed the door and released the mangy dog, which scurried off as soon as it realized its source of food was gone. The snow on the ground had melted, but a bitter wind was blowing. Elliot started to take off his overcoat, but Iris stopped him.

  “Keep it. Really, I’m fine.”

  He almost argued with her, but he knew she would be insistent, so he pulled the coat back on, stepped toward her, and opened his mouth. At that moment, however, he realized he didn’t know what to say. Hello, Iris. I’ve brought you a gift. Here it is―enjoy. He stared at the ground, cleared his throat, and then finally murmured, “How are you?”

  Thankfully, she didn’t laugh or walk back into the kitchen, and when he lifted his head, he saw her smiling. “Well. And you?”

  “Very well.” Bolstered by the warmth both on her face and in her heart, he reached inside his coat and took out the book. “I brought something for you.”

  He held it out, and she took a step toward him and looked at the cover, but when she did, the book nearly slipped from between his fingers. A well of awe sprang up inside her heart and spread through her chest, drowning her lungs as she slowly took the book from his trembling hands. She lifted the cover and combed through the colorful pages with reverence, her throat swelling with joy as grateful tears stung the backs of her eyes. Elliot swallowed and shifted his weight, gesturing down at her hands.

  “The Canada goose you told me about is on page twenty-one. You were right. It’s beautiful.”

  She raised her head and met his gaze, and the alley fell away. Nothing existed for either of them but the wonderment in her heart, the warmth and understanding flowing between and all around them.

  “This is really… for me?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s yours. Do you like it?”

  She smiled and Elliot’s blood sang, his head airy and light. He took a step toward her, and she parted her lips to speak, but then a bolt of panic tore through her body and shattered the spell. Her smile dissolved, and Elliot opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but she turned away.

  “That’s very kind of you, but I can’t take it.”

  “What do you mean? Why not?”

  She closed the book, turned around, and pushed it against his chest. “Just go back to the palace, Elliot. Don’t come here again.”

  He clutched the book, which suddenly felt like lead in his frozen hands. “I… I don’t understand. Iris―”

  “Elliot, please. Just go.”

  She walked away, panic and guilt still swimming in her veins, and Elliot raced to the wall and placed his body in front of the door.

  “Iris, please. I don’t understand what’s happened. What did I do?”

  She stared at the ground. Her chest was cracking and splintering with the pain, as if her heart were literally breaking.

  “Iris… please.”

  The pain sharpened, but when she raised her head, her face was stone, and her eyes were empty spheres of golden ice. “What did you do? Nothing, I suppose. Except pick a girl who isn’t stupid.”

  The air in his lungs dissolved. “What―what do you mean?”

  “What were you expecting in return for your little book?”

  “Nothing. It’s a gift. After what you said last night―”

  “Boys like you don’t give gifts to girls like me without some payment, and I am sorry to tell you that this girl is not for sale.”

  Elliot’s face burned, and his pulse began to race. “You’re saying you think I brought you this book to… take advantage of you?”

  She clenched her jaw and turned her back, but her chest continued to fracture.

  “Iris, I don’t understand. You trusted me last night. You gave me my gun. You showed me those journals. You slept just a few feet away from me―”

  “I know,” she said, her voice beginning to break. “It was a mistake.”

  “Why? I don’t understand what’s changed.”

  She took a breath and spun around to face him. “I woke up. So go back to your castle, Elliot. I know why you came here.”

  “I came here because I’ve never met anyone like you in my life. I came here because I owe you my life, and even more than that. When I walked out of this hall last night, before that Hyde attacked, I’d stopped truly car
ing if I lived or if I died.”

  Her heart stopped, and the whistling wind around them seemed to still. Elliot’s voice was shaking, but he found himself going on.

  “You did more than save my life; you made me want to live it. I’d forgotten what it was to hope or dream until I met you. You’re filled with more strength and courage and daring than anyone I know, and being around you makes me feel like I can be that way, too.”

  She stared at him, an aching warmth rising in her throat. “What are you planning to do, then?” she choked, attempting to harden her voice again. “Marry an orphaned waitress and bring her to live with you at the palace? No girl with half a brain would believe such a bold, disgusting lie.” She clutched her skirt and dashed to the side, but he blocked her way again.

  “I’m telling you the truth―”

  “Like hell you are! I know the truth.” She twisted her beautiful features into a hideous mask of anger, but Elliot felt her heart pounding in protest against her words. “The world may say I’m beneath you, but I know the world is wrong. I am worth one hundred of those cronies at the palace, and I refuse to be used and thrown away like a piece of trash.”

  In one swift movement, she grabbed his shoulder and shoved him out of the way, clearing her path to the door and nearly crippling him with her pain. He stumbled against an overturned box and steadied himself with the wall, his stomach nearly bursting with her grief and self-disgust. Then he raised his head and saw her reaching for the doorknob, and the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  “I know you’re lying.”

  She froze with her hand in the air. “What?”

  “I know you’re lying. You know that’s not what I think of you, and you aren’t angry with me. Saying what you said just now made you sick. You didn’t mean it.”

  “You don’t know what I feel.”

  “I’m sorry, Iris, but I do.” He let out a ragged breath and shoved a hand back through his hair. “I know exactly what everyone who ever comes near me feels.”

  She lowered her hand and turned to face him. “What are you talking about?”

  Elliot closed his eyes and fought the urge to laugh like a madman. He was about to tell a girl he’d known for less than twenty-four hours his deepest, darkest secret―the shameful truth he hadn’t even been able to tell his best friend.

  “I’m an empath,” he finally said, his chest collapsing beneath the weight of both disgrace and relief. “I feel the feelings of people around me as if they were my own.”

  She stared at him for a moment, then turned her head and laughed, but the sound was thin and uncertain. “Please. That’s impossible.”

  “When you first found out who Cam and I were, you felt such rage toward us that your heart nearly exploded.”

  Her laughter died and her blood ran cold. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I felt it, Iris, so strongly I could barely contain myself, but Cam had no idea, nor did anyone else around us. I think you know how perfectly you’re able to hide your feelings. There’s no way I could know the truth unless I felt it myself.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she breathed, but her face was pale as death.

  “When you showed me that ornithologist’s journal about Antarctica, you felt horribly embarrassed when I asked why it was in Latin. And just now, when you held that dog while that other waitress fed it, you smiled at her but really felt repulsed and aggravated.”

  She shook her head. “You could have guessed that.”

  “Then how about your cook? She recently lost a loved one, right? A son, around my age?”

  “How―how did you know it was her?”

  “I could feel her grief, and when she looked at me it grew worse. That happens sometimes when people see someone who looks like the person they’ve lost.”

  She searched his face, her body as still as a statue in the breeze. Then she murmured, almost to herself, “You’re telling the truth.”

  Elliot nodded and braced himself for her horror and revulsion, but instead of turning cold, her heart ignited with fascination.

  “Were you… born this way?” she asked, her pulse racing.

  Elliot shook his head. “It happened because of a grave mistake I made two weeks ago.”

  Something inside her deflated a bit, but she remained transfixed. “How?”

  He explained the experiment briefly, omitting the reason he’d performed it. Thankfully, she didn’t ask, though her curiosity grew.

  “So, no one knows but you and your father?”

  “No one. Except for you.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Not Cambrian? I thought you two were close.”

  “He’s practically my brother but… it’s complicated.”

  Once again, she didn’t pry, and Elliot was grateful. For a moment, they stood in silence, but then she took a step toward him.

  “So, how does it work exactly?” she asked, still keeping a careful distance. “Do you feel the emotions more strongly the closer you are to someone?”

  “Yes. And physical contact is worse. Then the sensation is so acute it’s like being inside their skin.”

  Her face froze as a sudden wave of embarrassment shot through her veins, and Elliot knew she was thinking about the fire she’d felt when they touched.

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, raising his hands, but it was the wrong thing to say. She turned away and covered her face, her humiliation swelling. “I’m sorry,” he cried, rubbing his brow. “I’m sorry―I can’t help it. But Iris, you should know, I felt the same.”

  “Please, just stop.” She let out a breath, lowered her hands, and turned back around to face him, her embarrassment giving way to a mixture of fear and bewilderment. “If you’ve known what I felt this whole time, then you must have known―like you did just now―when I wasn’t being honest.”

  Elliot swallowed. “I can’t read minds. I don’t know why people feel what they do. But yes, there were times when I knew what you said didn’t match the way you felt.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, her confusion growing. “You knew I’d been hiding things, and yet, you not only trusted me, but wanted to see me again?”

  It was Elliot’s turn to feel confused. “Of course. Everyone hides things. They should―feelings are intimate and privacy is sacred. I respect you and your choice to share or not share whatever you feel.”

  She stared at him, something inside her stirring, and Elliot knit his brow, but then he realized how blatantly hypocritical he must seem, as he’d invaded her “sacred privacy” just a moment ago.

  “I shouldn’t have done what I did today―confronted you like that,” he said. “It’s no excuse, but when I thought I might never see you again… I’m sorry, Iris. I lost control. It was selfish and I’m sorry.”

  He let out a breath and stared at the scattered debris around his feet, but when he raised his head again, he saw her walking toward him, stopping so close he could smell the smoke still clinging to her hair. Her eyes were wide and shining with warmth that had bloomed inside her chest, and his breath hitched at the unexpected and naked display of emotion.

  “Don’t apologize,” she said. “What you did was tell me the truth. It wasn’t selfish but selfless of you to open up like that. You gave me something precious and hard to find. You gave me honesty, and I am just… I am so incredibly grateful.”

  “Grateful?” he repeated. “You mean to tell me you’re not repulsed?”

  She nearly laughed. “No. Why on earth would I be repulsed?”

  His chest began to tighten. “Iris, because of this affliction, I am the epitome of helplessness and frailty. I can barely function in the presence of other people. The feelings are unrelenting and can be incapacitating.”

  “You’re wrong,” she said. “It’s not a curse, and it doesn’t make you frail. It’s a wonderful, powerful gift.”

  “What? How can you possibly say―”

  “What could be weak about being able to s
ee behind people’s masks? If they’re carrying secret pain, you’ll be able to comfort them. If they’re acting with malice or greed, you’ll be able to foil their plans. If they’re hiding truths that might just mean the difference between life and death…” She let out a breath, frustration and envy curling around her heart. “I promise you, Elliot, it’s a gift. A gift I wish I had.”

  “You mean to say you truly don’t find it―”

  “Stop.” She shook her head and laughed. “You of all people should know. Can’t you feel it? I’m not repulsed.”

  “Iris, what the devil―”

  The two of them jumped as Eddie’s voice rang out from the kitchen doorway. He stepped outside, his face red with anger, but then he saw Elliot. Immediately, he stopped, cleared his throat, and lowered his voice.

  “My apologies, sir,” he said. “I didn’t know you were still here. I’m sorry, but Iris is needed on the floor, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I’ll be on my way in a moment,” Elliot said. “I’m sorry to have taken so much of her time. I appreciate it.”

  Eddie cleared his throat again and hurried back inside, and Iris turned to Elliot and grinned.

  “So, what was he feeling?”

  He shook his head and smiled, fighting the terrible urge to laugh. “He felt how he looked: angry. You should probably go back inside.”

  “You’re right,” she said, emitting a sigh, but she didn’t turn and go. Instead, she looked up into his eyes and said, “So when will I see you again?”

  His lips parted. “See me again? But earlier you―”

  “Told you lies, exactly as you said. I was trying to do what I thought was right, what I thought someone else would want me to do. But now…” She paused and took a breath. “I’m doing what I want instead.”

  Elliot didn’t understand, but he was too happy to care. “How about tonight when you get off work? At the aviary?”