Camille Read Online Free

he kept tucked in his pocket. The onlookers, including the
two girls, stood back watching the whole scene. The red head
kneaded her skirts with her fingers, and the other girl covered her
face as if trying to avoid breathing in something foul. A fever in
this neighborhood usually meant some dreaded, contagious
sickness.
    I knelt down next to Strider’s head and
pushed my hood back but not completely clear from my head. Long
black lashes shadowed his ashen cheeks. The sheen of fever covered
his face. I placed the cold wet cloth over his forehead. His brown
eyes shot open. He jumped to his feet then sat down hard on the
bench. I peered up at him as I reached around for the cloth. His
fever glazed stare fell on my face. I swallowed hard.
    “Who the bloody hell are you?” he asked.
    Dr. Bennett stood and rubbed his chin from
the swift kick he’d received when Strider shot up. “Mr. Strider,
your injury is worse than you might think. If you let me help
you--”
    “I don’t need your help.” His head rested
back against the rough, mold stained wall as he scanned the crowd
from beneath heavy lids. “Goose, Charlie, get me out of ‘ere.” His
two young companions raced to him. Dr. Bennett and I stepped out of
the way, and with some effort, the boys helped their sick friend
stand and hobble out the door.
    Dr. Bennett returned to the barkeep. “Does
the boy have a real name? Where does he live?”
    The man didn’t answer. Dr. Bennett reached in
his pocket, pulled out three shilling, and held it out on his
gloved palm.
    “Strider’s his real name. Nathaniel Strider,
I think. Doesn’t have a permanent home. No family that I know of.”
The man stared down now at the black glove. “Far as I know, he
sleeps in stairwells and on front stoops.”
    Dr. Bennett dropped the coins onto the
counter. One rolled off and the man dove for it as if it were a
priceless jewel. I picked up Dutch’s cage. The cat had curled
itself into a tight ball; a striped paw shielded its face from the
cold draft coming in through the door. I followed Dr. Bennett into
the damp night air and trudged beside him back to Whitechapel
Road.
    “I will need you to do your best
investigative work this week, Cami. Keep an eye on that boy.”
    “I wonder, John, if it is wise to follow him.
Becoming acquainted with him in human form may impair our judgment
when the time comes.” The night had been draining, but the swirl of
dread in my chest and head weakened my spirit even more.
    “Don’t you see, Cami? This lad might provide
us with some insight.” He stopped, took hold of my shoulders, and
turned me to face him. The weak glow of the street lamps could not
hide the glint of anticipation in his eyes. “Your father was close
to ending this cycle of mutation. I’m convinced of it. But without
his journal…” He picked up my hand. “I must move forward on my
own.”
    I nodded silently, not really in agreement,
but in surrender.
    Dr. Bennett hired the only cab in sight. As
we climbed inside, he continued, but I truly did not want to hear
more. “Those teeth marks are deep enough to trigger some cellular
changes. The lad has no idea the trouble he’s in. That is, if he
survives till the next full moon.”
    I stared out the window at the blurred
cityscape and held up my hand. “Please, John, I can listen no more
tonight.” I despised being rude to him, but the events of the
evening topped with the mention of my father had filled me with an
unshakeable melancholy. I could not even pretend, as I often did,
that the night had been staged. My bizarre life was all too
real.
     
     

Chapter 3
     
    Sunlight seeped beneath the hem of my drapes
far too early. We’d arrived home several hours before dawn, and I’d
fallen heavy headed into bed. Amazingly, I’d slept without
nightmares. In fact the hollowness in my stomach brought images of
Manchester pudding and currant jelly with mutton. It was that same
hunger that urged me from my downy covers into the cold