Page 91 of The Last Necromancer
"My friends! You have to get them out!"
"They're not your friends, Charlotte. You can't trust them."
I went to shove him, but he caught my arms. "I see that they've succeeded in brainwashing you." He sighed. "Ever since meeting you, I've been wondering if that's what happened. It's understandable."
"Listen to me," I growled. "Get. Them. Out."
He let me go and turned me toward the lower window. "It's all right, dear daughter. Their energy will dissipate before they can do any harm. Look."
Two of the creatures had fallen to the floor in crumpled heaps, while the other four seemed to be winding down, like automatons having run their course. Only one had reached a table. I watched as the remaining four stopped altogether then stumbled as if their legs could no longer hold them. Their expressions didn't change as their eyes closed and they too slumped onto the floor.
Tears of utter relief clogged my throat.
"The electrical currents only animate them for so long." Frankenstein sounded disappointed. "And even when it does bring them to life, they're not controllable. They won't even listen to me, their maker."
"That's why you came outside."
"It's too dangerous in there when they're alive. They're uncommonly strong, stronger even than the original men whose parts I used to make them."
"They're not alive," I spat. "They're not human. They're monsters."
"At the moment, you're right. But once they have souls, they'll be perfect. They'll think and feel—"
"Stop it," I hissed. "I'm not going to help you." Fitzroy had been right. Frankenstein wanted to use me to reanimate his creations, to bring them fully to life. To bring them under his control.
"You're sounding like them again." He jerked his head at the bodies through the window. "Charlotte, listen to me." He grasped my shoulders but I shook myself free. He sighed. "With your help, we can control them. They'll be absolutely perfect. There might not even be a need for the electricity. Imagine that!"
"I am, and it's sickening."
"Come now. Disregard what the ministry have been telling you and think for yourself. I know you're a smart girl. You're my girl, after all." He smiled again, and it was patient and understanding. It was how a loving father smiled upon his daughter when she said something silly. "Together, you and I will have created life. How is that a bad thing? It's not. It's beautiful. You'll be a part of something amazing, and innovative too. Something that no one else in the world has done."
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "So you can build an army and take over the government?"
"No, no, nothing like that. Once again, you've allowed yourself to be brainwashed. I'm a scientist, a doctor. I don't destroy life, I create it."
"Shouldn't doctors save lives?"
"Save, create…it's all balanced out. One sick, dying man's life is taken and given to another so that he may live and breathe again. It's not something to recoil from—it is something to embrace. It's the way of the future, Charlotte. It's where modern medicine is heading, and you and I are at the forefront of new and exciting things. They'll write about us in books and newspapers. They'll remember the name Frankenstein forever. I'll be the father of half the world—perhaps all of the world one day. Imagine it, Charlotte."
"I am, and I'm sickened. I won't help you."
His smile finally wavered, but not for long. "Come now. Don't be like that. I've been hoping to find another necromancer for so long and—"
"Another necromancer?"
"Your mother was one. She was a wonderful woman, but she had her reservations too."
My head began to spin. I pressed my hand to my temple. "My mother…that's why I'm like this?"
He frowned and his mouth flattened. "I don't want to talk about her. I was…upset when she left me." He touched my chin. "But now I have you. To think that I've gained both a daughter and a necromancer in one day…it's beyond my wildest hopes. You are special, Charlotte. Never forget that. Special and loved."
"I…I can't…"
"Hush, child." He stroked my hair, my cheek. His hands were cool, but I didn't pull away. No one had touched me like that since my adopted mother, and it felt so wonderful. Whatever his motives, this man was my father. He loved me. He wouldn't hurt me.
"You will come to live with me, of course," he said, smiling again. "I live in Chelsea, in a nice house. You'll have your own room and dolls."
I almost told him I was too old for dolls, but stopped myself.
