The Asylum Read Free

ago.
    â€œGood,” Cora said. “Now, Stefan, take up the rear and make sure no one notices or follows us.”
    â€œOf course,” I said abashedly. I’d thought we’d have to protect Cora, but it seemed Cora was protecting us. Did this dependence on a human to lead us to safety mean we were worse off than we thought? Or was Cora the good luck charm I’d asked for? Either way, I trusted her.

2
    S oon 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.
    â€œI suppose so,” Damon said in his maddening noncommittal drawl, as though he was still in Virginia and had all the time in the world.
    â€œAre 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.
    â€œWe’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.
    â€œShe’s a good one to have around,” Damon observed as he fell into step beside me.
    â€œShe 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