Page 15 of Whispers in the Quarter

“Beautiful work, my Chimera,” he murmurs, close enough that his breath stirs my fake blonde curls. “The compound in your ring—derived from swamp lilies, yes? Fascinating choice. The molecular structure must be absolutely exquisite.”

“Careful, Dr. Gautier,” I whisper back. “Your obsession is showing.”

His laugh is dark and rich. “My dear, my obsession has been showing since the moment you walked in wearing thatdevastating dress and someone else’s face.” His bleeding hand comes up to brush my cheek, leaving a smear of red I feel. “Though I must say, I prefer your natural coloring. Blondes may have more fun, but brunettes...” his eyes gleam manically, “brunettes devise better poisons.”

“Speaking of poisons,” Lucas continues, producing a handkerchief to wipe the blood from my cheek with surprising tenderness, “your latest formula is absolutely inspired. The way it targets the peripheral nervous system while leaving no trace... pure poetry in protein chains.”

“Most would find your enthusiasm for my methods disturbing,” I say, fighting back a shiver as his fingers linger on my skin.

“Most are tediously mundane,” he counters, that brilliant madness dancing in his eyes. “But you, my gorgeous Chimera, you understand the artistry of it all. The elegant dance of molecules, the perfect marriage of botany and chemistry...” He glances at Beaumont, who’s now being helped toward the exit by concerned associates. “Though I do wish you’d let me analyze that compound properly. Preferably while it’s still fresh in his system.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Planning to collect samples, Doctor?”

“Oh, constantly,” his grin turns feral. “Though not necessarily with his consent or knowledge. The best science sometimes requires... creative methodology.”

Grandmother’s voice echoes in my head:“Power recognizes power, child. Like calls to like. The deadliest flowers always bloom in pairs.”

As if reading my thoughts, Lucas produces a small vial from his pocket. The liquid inside shimmers with an almost otherworldly iridescence. “A little something I’ve been working on. Inspired by your methods, of course. Would you like to see it in action?”

“Here?” I glance around the crowded ballroom.

His laugh is pure chaos. “What better laboratory than this? All these fascinating test subjects, dancing and drinking, never suspecting they’re part of something greater.” He tucks the vial into my clutch. “Consider it a gift. For when grace and subtlety aren’t required.”

“And what does this particular compound do?”

“Causes the most fascinating hallucinations before the end,” he says with academic enthusiasm. “Though I’d avoid getting it on your lovely dress. The effects on fabric are... rather dramatic.”

I should be horrified. Instead, I find myself fighting back a smile. “You’re absolutely insane, you know that?”

“Insanity is just genius viewed through the lens of mediocrity,” he quotes himself from our earlier encounter. His hand finds the small of my back again, possessive and steady. “Besides, my Chimera, aren’t we all a little mad here?”

Through the ballroom’s windows, I catch a glimpse of our reflection—the mad scientist and his deadly muse, beauty and brilliance wrapped in darkness and devotion. Grandmother would approve, I think. After all, she always said the most potent poisons come in pairs.

“Dance with me,” Lucas says suddenly, his mercurial mind shifting tracks. “Let them all see what true chemistry looks like.”

“They might talk,” I warn, even as I let him pull me toward the dance floor. “The eccentric Dr. Gautier and the mysterious Ms. St. Clair...”

“Let them,” he growls, spinning me into his arms with surprising grace. “Let them see that you’re mine. My Chimera. My perfect fusion of science and sin.”

As we sway to the music, Lucas’s eyes suddenly sharpen with scientific interest. “Fascinating,” he murmurs, watching over my shoulder. “Your compound is progressing faster than expected. The peripheral tremors have reached phase two.”

I don’t need to look to know Beaumont’s condition is deteriorating. Grandmother’s voice whispers:“When the midnight lily takes hold, child, it’s time to fade into the shadows. Like the flower itself—here, then gone.”

“Time to make our exit?” Lucas asks, reading my thoughts with unsettling accuracy. His hand tightens possessively on my waist. “I know a private path through the kitchens. The staff entrance has a delightfully broken security camera.”

Of course he’s already mapped our escape route. My brilliant, dangerous madman.

“Lead the way, Doctor,” I breathe, letting him guide me from the dance floor as the first shouts of alarm begin. Behind us, Beaumont’ssudden illnesscreates the perfect cover for our disappearance.

We slip into the warm New Orleans night, Lucas’s hand still claiming me as his own. The street lamps cast our shadows long and twined together on the pavement—scientist and assassin, madness and method, a perfectly matched set of beautiful monsters.

“Magnificent work, my Chimera,” Lucas says as we reach his car. “Though next time, do let me collect tissue samples. For science, of course.”

I laugh despite myself, the sound mixing with distant sirens as emergency vehicles respond to our handiwork. “You’re absolutely insane.”

“So are you,” he counters, opening the car door with a flourish. “It’s why we work so well together.”

As we drive away from the chaos we’ve created, I find myself thinking of my grandmother’s final lesson about poisons:“The most dangerous combinations, child, are the ones that bring out the best and worst in each other. Like nightshade and moonflower—beautiful alone, lethal together.”

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