“After y’all left Devil’s Island, I kept it in my room as sort of a keepsake to remind me of … everything. When I came to London I brought it with me. I thought it should be here.”
Sitting there on the shelf (serving as a bookend no less!) was a large Grecian urn. I rose to my feet and slowly walked over to it. Reaching out I traced my fingers over the lid and down the sides, making sure it was still intact. And why wouldn’t it be? It was said to have been forged by Hephaestus himself.
I turned back to my friends and smiled. “An unbreakable jar that once held a god of war trapped for millennia. That will do.”
“Before we get ahead of ourselves,” Devlin said, always the voice of reason, “what is the third problem?”
My excitement waned. “The demon is apparently immune to my magic.”
“How can that be?” Devlin asked, stunned.
“I have no idea,” I replied. “But I’ll think it through today and maybe something will come to me. The minute the sun sets, though, we need to find Grady. Until I can figure out why my magic won’t work and how to remedy the problem, we can’t fight this demon. In the meantime, I want to make it very clear to Grady that no one is to harm the Ripper while he’s in my husband’s body.”
TEN
As twilight settled over London, I went from room to room in the house, checking the locks on all the windows and doors. If the demon decided to pay us a visit, I wanted to be sure he had to break down something solid to get in. At least we would have that as a warning. Ginny had flatly refused to leave the house at night, even though I had offered to put her up in a fine hotel, or turn a blind eye if she wished to stay with Warren. She was certain that I might need her, though, as I had the night before. Since I had taken her blood, I could use vampire magic to bend her to my will, but I wouldn’t do it. Instead I had sent the footman to Warren’s shop with a request that he come talk some sense into her as soon as he closed for the day.
That task had taken all of five minutes and the previous argument with Ginny had been short-lived. The other hours of daylight I’d spent poring over every book I owned, trying to stay busy so that I wouldn’t go mad with worry. Amy, the housemaid, had come in several times to ask if I needed anything. I had politely declined both lunch and tea, refilling my whiskey glass at a rate that would have been alarming in a human. None of it had kept my mind from wandering to Michael, though. To what the demon might be doing, at this very moment, in his body. For the thousandth time since I’d woken alone in our bed, I pushed the thought aside.
Entering my bedroom, I pulled my coat from the wardrobe and tossed it on the bed. Tonight I wouldn’t be tramping through the slush in skirts and slippers. This time I would be ready for whatever came my way. I was wearing black leather breeches tucked into a pair of thigh-high boots. A black leather vest topped the ensemble. I rarely wore the vest alone, with no shirt underneath. A full-sleeved shirt helped to hide the knives strapped to my forearms, but tonight I would do without it. I wanted to look as dangerous as possible.
I slid Michael’s claymore into the scabbard at my hip, feeling closer to him because I was wearing his blade. It wasn’t the great claymore that he called Ophelia, but one he’d had made as a scaled-down version of his favorite weapon. Wearing a sword in public will get you arrested in most places, and it’s difficult to conceal a blade nearly four and a half feet long. The sword he carried now looked like the claymore but was substantially smaller and easier to hide under a cloak or long coat. Ignoring the fact that the last time I’d seen Michael he’d shoved this blade into my heart, I opened the trunk that held our weapons and pulled out a long, flat box.
As a rule, vampires, especially the older ones, don’t like guns. They seem to view them as cheating. If you can’t win a fight by your own physical strength and skill with a sword, then you deserve to lose. However, last year I’d won a Smith & Wesson .38 from an American in a game of poker and, as it turns out, I’m an excellent shot. Of course, it’s nearly impossible to kill a vampire with a bullet, but it will get their attention. Sometimes that’s all you need. I loaded the gun, tucked it into the waistband of my breeches at the small of my back, and shrugged into my coat.
Michael called this my general’s coat. It was long and black with burgundy silk braiding that decorated the turned-back cuffs and ran along the edge of its stand-up collar. A smart row of oriental frog buttons in the same burgundy silk marched from the collar to just above my waist. The rest of the coat was open, allowing me swift access to the weapon at my hip or the knives strapped to my thighs, hidden by my tall boots. The coat belled out just enough to hide the fact that I was a woman wearing very scandalous and masculine attire. That is, if you didn’t look too closely.
As I reached the top buttons I touched my bare neck, wondering if Warren still had my cross necklace or if he’d dropped it in the park. It seemed a trifling thing to worry about, considering everything else that had happened. Still, it was one more thing that I’d had yesterday that I didn’t have today.
As I was tying my hair back at my nape with a thick black satin ribbon, I heard Devlin and Justine leave their room, murmuring to each other as they walked down the hall. I closed my eyes and imagined Michael standing behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, his lips kissing my neck. It was what he always did before we went out. This evening I wrapped my arms around myself instead.
“I will get you back,” I said to the empty room. “I swear I will.”
Warren had just arrived, and in fact was still standing in the foyer arguing with Ginny, when I came downstairs. He looked up at me and his mouth fell open. While I was walking down the stairs the coat did little to hide my boots, breeches, or the sword I was wearing, but I was certain that my clothing wasn’t entirely responsible for the expression on his face. Ginny, however, conspicuously cleared her throat and Warren swiftly regained his composure.
“I can’t believe it,” he said. “Last night I saw you with a sword sticking out of your chest and now you look completely healed.”
I shrugged. “Already being dead sometimes has its advantages.”
“I suppose so,” he murmured.
“Have you had any luck talking this hardheaded girl into leaving the house for the night?” I asked.
Ginny glared at me, but I ignored her.
“I’m afraid not,” he said, holding up a large canvas sack. “But I brought crosses. I’ll stay with her until you return.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and I tried not to laugh, for he was so earnest.
“If I don’t check the pot boiling on the stove,” Ginny said, “I’m liable to burn the whole house down, and then we won’t have to worry about it. Warren, make yourself at home in the parlor. I’ll return shortly when supper is ready.” She turned to me. “And you be careful with yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said in my best imitation of her southern drawl.
As Ginny headed toward the kitchen I leaned over and whispered to Warren. “Of course, you realize that this means you’re going to have to marry that girl, don’t you?”
He smiled. “Oh yes,” he said happily. “But she hasn’t realized that yet.”
Hearing my voice, Devlin and Justine emerged from the parlor and the three of us headed for the door.
“Mrs. Craven!” Warren called out. “I almost forgot.”
I turned to see him reach into his coat pocket and pull out my necklace.
“I sent it to a friend of mine who’s a jeweler this morning and had the clasp fixed for you. It’s good as new now.”
Seeing him pull the chain and pendant from his pocket triggered a memory from the previous night. The demon had taken something off the dead body, hadn’t he? I had been in so much shock, I’d entirely forgotten about it until this moment.
“Warren,” I said, “did you see Michael take a gold amulet on a chain from the dead body last night? Or was that a hallucination?”
Warren thought for a moment. “No, I remember. I couldn’t see it clearly, but he did remove something from the body that shined in the moonlight. It could have been an amulet.”
That was why my magic hadn’t worked. I closed my eyes as I felt the anger rise inside me. The Ripper had a charm to protect him against magic. The last time I’d seen such a thing, I’d taken it off Sebastian’s neck.
“Damn that man to everlasting hell!” I shrieked.
“You don’t believe in hell,” Justine said dryly.
I glared at her. “That’s hardly the point.”
Living in such close quarters for so many years, it was easy to pick up each other’s phrases. It also meant that we knew each other well enough that when I turned and strode purposefully to the front door, they followed me without question. I jerked the door open just as Warden Grady raised his hand to knock. His eyes widened in surprise. Then he caught sight of the look on my face and took a hasty step back.
“Just the man I wanted to see,” I said, reaching out and grabbing him by the collar of his coat.
“What’s going on?” he asked as I dragged him back to his carriage.
“You’re going to take me to see the Regent,” I replied as I opened the carriage door.
Grady stopped and shrugged one shoulder, dislodging my grip on his coat.
“Wait just a minute now,” he said indignantly. “I’m not taking you anywhere until I know what’s happening. You said very specifically in Paris that you had absolutely no wish to see the Regent.”
I felt Devlin’s looming presence at my back. “The lady’s changed her mind, mate,” he said in that low, gravelly voice that could, on occasions such as this, be utterly terrifying. “Get in the carriage.”
For a moment, I thought Grady might challenge him, but wisely he gave in and nodded to the driver.
“Take us to the Regent’s estate,” he said, and we all climbed in.
The carriage lurched forward and we rode in silence until Justine leaned over and said softly, “I trust your judgment, Cin, but you are going to tell us at some point, are you not?”
I glanced sideways at her and then looked across the carriage at Devlin and Grady, who were regarding me expectantly.
“I have the answer to problem number three,” I said. “My magic didn’t work against the Ripper because he was wearing a talisman to protect him. A gold disc with what I’m sure we will find to be a ruby stone set in its center.”
Looks of comprehension dawned on Devlin and Justine, but Grady was at a loss.
“I still don’t understand,” he said, glancing at each of us in turn. “You saw the Ripper? Do you have this talisman? And where is Michael?”
“Do not,” Justine said, putting her hand up, “go any further with that line of questioning.”
For a few moments Grady looked even more confused, but when the expressions of disbelief and sympathy crossed his face, I knew he’d finally figured out what had happened. I was thankful for that because I truly didn’t want to have to say those words again.
“We have to figure out a way to get that amulet out of his possession,” I said.
“If we do that,” Grady asked, “then what?”
“Then I end this,” I replied.
Relief washed over him. “If that’s our objective, then why are we going to see the Regent?” he asked.
“Because Sebastian is responsible for this,” I said. “I’ve known it in my heart from the beginning.”
“You believe this because of the amulet?”
“First of all, that demon is in possession of a talisman that once belonged to Sebastian. Secondly, the Ripper said, and I quote, ‘Witch. He said you would come.’ ”
