Page 2 of The Beast's Heart

There’s a knock at the door. “I think the driver’s here for me. Wish me luck.”

“You’re sure gonna need it.” Zane says.

The journey to De Villeneuve’s estate is a long, silent drive through rugged hills. The wind-beaten scenery does little to ease my nerves. Snow-brushed slopes roll down into ochre grassland, only recently thawed and still recovering. There’s a beauty to it, but all I can see is emptiness. It’s discomforting, bleak and lonely.

The craggy-faced driver gave me a curious look as he loaded my suitcase into the boot, but he’s said no more than three words to me. Which is just as well, since I could hardly understand his thick Scottish accent.

All alone with my thoughts, staring out at all that emptiness, I picture Emily Brontë, on the edge of the moor, slowly wasting away as she mourned her brother, and a darkness opens up in my chest.

I wring my hands in my lap. Dad’s ill. I should be with him now. The question I’ve been trying so hard not to think about rises to the front of my mind: will I ever see him again?

After what must be the longest two hours of my life, we crawl up a tree-lined dirt road and the manor house comes into view. I suck in a sharp breath. The house is a Victorian dream — three stories in red brick with gables, arches, pilasters and vaults. It reminds me of the dollhouse I never had the courage to ask for as a child. It sits at the end of a manicured garden, already bright with spring flowers. A wild forest hugs its back, spreading up into rolling hills.

I don’t belong here. I’m an imposter. This is not my world and they will know it the instant they see me.But it’s too late to turn back now.

2

ADAM

Iknow something else has gone wrong when Geoff stops talking.

This whole enterprise has been cursed and I’m so, so tired. Will this be the final complication? The one that breaks me?

We’re in what we call the ‘control room’—the place that’s been my office for the past few weeks because it’s where they put the satellite terminal. My heavy desk takes up most of the space and it’s the only thing in the room that matches the turn-of-the-century decor. The rest is filled with tech: security screens, a server, all the bullshit we need to stay safe and connected all the way out here.

I was busy on my laptop while Geoff was standing opposite the desk, talking and talking as usual about some or other media agreement.Whatever. I don’t care. Just give me the papers to sign.Meredith, in a purple sheath skirt and blazer that’s far too formal for the Scottish hills, is sitting in the spare chair, keeping notes on her tablet.

She was asking Geoff the odd question, but now they’re both silent, staring at one of the security monitors behind me.

I can feel the muscles in my shoulders tense. I’m afraid to look. “What?”

Geoff strides over and points at the top right screen. It’s the one that shows the entrance hall. His mouth curves into a wicked smile. “Hey, Beast, did you order our teacher from Wish?”

He holds the printed resume of the teacher who’s supposed to be arriving today side by side with the screen.

There’s a man down in the foyer who is dressed the same as the one in the resume picture, in a tweed suit with wide-rimmed glasses. But he’s got a lean frame, a halo of golden curls and is at least 30 years younger than the one in the photo.

He looks around, no doubt taking in the marble floors, the sweeping staircase and wood-paneled walls. He looks as surprised to find himself here as we are. He approaches the grand flower arrangement at the base of the stairs and reaches out to touch it. The table wobbles. He jumps back, startled.

Geoff covers his eyes with his palm.

I press the button for the intercom. With a glance at Meredith, I speak into the microphone. “The flowers are real. They’re not going to bite. Come on upstairs. First door on the left.”

As soon as I lift my finger, Geoff says, “You’re not serious? This is clearly an impostor. Call security.”

‘Security’ is Angus the groundskeeper, who happens to be the same person who drove this man here in the first place. “And just what do you expect Angus to do, Geoff? Throw him off a munro?”

“Take him back where he found him.”

I watch the intruder move across the screens. He climbs the stairs, head turning this way and that. He passes the baby grand on the landing and pauses a moment to admire it. Then he approaches this door, straightening his suit, then his glasses, then his hair. He knocks.

I flip to a different view with my keyboard. Now it shows him from the front. He’s even younger than I first thought, withflushed cheeks and bright, terrified, green eyes. He looks like he’s about to pass out.

“How do you want to handle this?” Meredith asks, keeping her voice low.

I snatch the sheet of paper from Geoff. There’s something about the eyes… the shape of the nose. “Family resemblance?” I ask Meredith.

The lights from the screens play over her dark skin as she rises to examine the picture. Her lips twist. “That or a Benjamin Button situation. I don’t know how this could have happened. We have an ID on file, we ran numerous background checks.”

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