Page 68 of From Hell

The video of Laine and Max is grainy, but it does the job. She asks him several questions about that night, testing his answers against what she knows. Her face has a skeptical look as she leans back in her seat, her arms folded across her chest.

On the other hand, Max fidgets like there’s a rat trapped in his jumpsuit. He was the wrong guy to send down for the Ripper murders. The whites of his eyes are showing, and a sheen of sweat glistens on his brow.

I’m amazed the police bought his story, but you’ll take anything to close the case when you have a signed confession and no other leads.

Max doesn’t give anything away, not in words. Killing him was probably hasty of me. But I dislike loose ends. And Max was a long, overdue thread just waiting to be pulled.

The abrupt knock gives me time to turn off the video before the person on the other side cracks open the door.

“Father wants you to join us.” It’s my sister, Matty, her dark hair curled and pinned back the way father likes it. She only leaves it loose when she’s out of the house. “Wolf is aggravating him again.”

I let out a sigh. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Matty rolls her eyes. “Nothing but have dinner with us. Why did you come tonight if you’re going to sit in the office all hours? You’re always working.”

“So are you,” I counter. It’s a Clémont family tradition to become a workaholic in light of the shitstorm we’ve endured since our mother and eldest sibling passed away.

Matty gives me a grim smile. “Just come downstairs for one course. You know Father leaves Wolf alone when you’re present. And it would please Dad.”

She closes the door with a soft click, leaving me to collect my thoughts.

I stare at the rain, lashing it down outside the office window. I couldn’t think of anything worse than sitting in a room full of my father’s friends, pretending to give a fuck.

I’m a thirty-year-old man; I do not need or care for my father’s pleasure or approval, but I can never say no to Matty. And Wolf, despite his failings, is my younger brother. I’ll always protect them both from him.

Because I couldn’t protect my mother and elder sister.

Matty is composed but unsmiling. Wolf’s jaw is clenched shut, straining against whatever smart-mouth remark wants to crawl out of his mouth. And Abe is in discussion with Shepherd when I enter the dining room. The sixteen seats at the long table are mostly filled with the five founders of the Lucian Society and their wives. A long white runner, candles, and autumnal decor cover the center, giving the entire affair an elegant look, which is the opposite of what this is. My sister must have been in charge of hosting the event. She has my mother’s taste down to a T.

My father and a few of the founders look my way as I stroll toward the empty seat next to Wolf. There’s one next to my father, which has been reserved for me, but I’m not in the mood to take it.

“You’re late, son,” Abe states, leaning back in his chair, regarding me.

I take the time to pour myself a double shot of whiskey. Wolf takes the bottle from me and pours himself a quadruple. Always one to outdo me.

“I was seeing to our problem.”

“And is it sorted?” It’s Shepherd asserting his authority. His long-suffering wife, twenty years his junior, Shina, makes eyes at me. She’s been trying to get in my pants since her engagement party, and she realized that she’d be tied to Shepherd and his nasty streak for the rest of her life.

I could take her upstairs later and fuck her, just to piss Shepherd off, but I prefer not to make war with my father’s cronies just because I can, even if I am the honored son. The one who stands to ascend to the Archkey mantel when Abe finally kicks the bucket. Shina knows that, so she thinks upgrading to me will get her a better deal.

It won’t.

“With finesse,” I cut back

Shepherd frowns.

I purposely don’t answer until Abe asks me the same question.

“It’s being dealt with.”

My father grunts his approval and carries on his discussion with Eric, who looks at me with extreme hatred, his own son not here. Most of the acolytes aren’t here, given two are missing, and one has turned up dead. This dinner is to smooth things with the founders and provide light refreshments while my father makes promises and ensures I keep them.

Wolf chuckles in my ear. “Dad’s had Shepherd’s hand up his ass all night.”

“What do the founders want?”

Wolf shrugs. “Same thing they’re asking the police for, for someone to nail the bastard that’s killing us off one by one. Although everyone is a little paranoid if you ask me. Only Henry, poor fucking sod, has turned up dead. The other two are probably off on some yacht in the middle of nowhere, fucking and snorting themselves to death.”