Page 45 of From Hell
The Foundation. the front for the organization the Archkey uses to manipulate his power through legitimate hoops, has always supplied those hospitals and research clinics willing to turn a blind eye with a steady source of organs, blood, and high-grade human tissue needed for all their award-winning medical advances—from stem cells to human embryos. They’ve become accustomed to having an unlimited supply until now. But prices have gone up. Sources are low. Shares and seats on the board aren’t enough, just as Foundation directors in pockets and doctors loyal to the Lucians in clinics fall short.
My father believes the Supreme Being will save him. But without sacrifice to hunt down victims, an offering of flesh, blood, and bone, he has no edge. They need me if the Lucians want to maintain control of Mitre and other hospitals in the private sector and its wealthy patronage.
He needs me.
Without my hand, they would all burn.
But while it would be fun to watch my father’s empire turn to ash, I have always been loyal to the Divine. To the Ascendant and the power promised to me if I let the darkness feed every once in a while.
Not too much, just enough to sate his hunger.
I’ll harvest who the hell I like.
Starting with what’s mine…
17
LAINE
I’m lulled into a false sense of safety at the library…by the cozy stacks of books and the endless varnished tables filled with warm, living, breathing bodies.
Not Jaxon’s body.
No, not his.
After he left me, I had a long hot shower, sticking my face under the head until I could barely think, cleansing my mind and soul of that man. How dare he come back and rip reality right from underneath me. His offer of staying with him until the police caught my stalker was so tempting I had to bite my lip and dig crescent-shaped wounds into my palms to stop myself from taking it.
How dare he come back and expect…
To pick things up where they left off.
Irritation stabs my gut at that thought as I take out all the letters the Ripper has ever sent and place them before me, smoothing over the creases in the pages to keep them flat, hand trembling with controlled rage. I may be afraid, but I’m also furious—at myself for letting my guard down and losing the evidence. At Jaxon and that presumptuous smirk of his. I will never let that man consume me ever again.
At least all the tangled emotion swirling inside me is helping me focus. Seeing the evidence I’ve been hoping to find for a long time in black and white, gathering dust in the archive room, has lit a fire under me.
I’ve always known the killer was a member of Berners House. It was there that I saw the elite crew of the rugby team rape and possibly murder my friend while I watched, frozen in place, unable to do a thing to stop them. It was there, he followed me as I ran in a drunken panic to get help. However, my memory of events and who was involved has always been hazy.
Now, proof exists. Even though it’s not anything I can take to the police, since Jaxon deleted it from my phone, it’s enough for me to remember and push me to keep digging. One of those names in the guest ledger belongs to the Ripper.
I know it.
“You’re getting close,” Nola’s throaty voice soothes down the line when I call her and tell her my theory—that the person stalking me, taunting me with murder weapons in dishwashers is the same man who tried to kill me all those years ago. It scared me when he started sending letters to my house after he’d been caught, but now I’m convinced that the person who has been following me, breaking into my house, is the Ripper. The police have the wrong person. It’s too much of a coincidence.
“It’s a member. Someone at the frat party followed me in a car owned by the club…”
“It could have been anyone. A club member. One of their parents. The staff.” It’s a debate we’ve had over and over. My gut tells me one thing, while Nola brings me back to earth, stating the facts.
“It’s one of Addison’s friends, I know it.”
“You’ve looked at every one of them and ruled them out.”
I let out a huff. “Then I need to look again.” Addison Cochrane was there at night. I’ll never forget his face. But while he was one of the monsters who hurt Molly, which puts him firmly on my list, he didn’t follow me. Everyone saw him and Christian take Angelica Laws to his room, and she swore blind they were with her all night. In fact, every guy I saw around Molly had someone at the club who could later vouch for them. However, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t them. It just means they are lying, and the club is protecting them.
“What about Jaxon Clémont? Their golden boy who has just coincidentally turned up. He deleted the evidence, and he’s been hanging around. Maybe he’s the one you should be looking at. Wasn’t he at the frat party?”
I pause, taking in what she’s saying. An unsettling twinge spills through my insides. Then I shake my head. “No, the police checked him at the time. He has a solid alibi. Jaxon wasn’t even in the country.”
Alibis can be faked.