Page 94 of From Hell

“Are we still playing this game? You are both one and the same, or haven’t you got your darkness under control yet?”

“It’s under control.”

Am I?The Ripper laughs inside my head.

“Then do what needs to be done. I don’t care how you do it. Let the Ripper out, or don’t. Just make this problem disappear. If you want to inherit my mantle, Son, do not make me wait any longer.”

He hangs up, not bothering to wait for a reply. Irritation stabs my gut, so I focus on paperwork until I can work the anger out of my system. When I emerge hours later, I check the security cameras to see Laine fast asleep in the spare room.

I should kill her now and deal with this problem head-on. The longer she lives, the more fucked this situation is getting. I can only get away with killing acolytes for so long. The Archkey won’t tolerate it, even from his own son.

Rage swirls in my gut, the edges of my vision blackening.

You should kill her now while she’s nicely relaxed.

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap.

Temper. Temper. Do you want me to do it for you? Let me out, and I’ll make it twice as fun.

A laugh echoes in the corner of my mind where the darkness squats and waits, creeping over me when I least expect it. Killing Christian was meant to silencehimfor a while. Why the fuck hasn’t he gone away? I can’t go to sleep now.

The urge to break something, punch something, whips through me like a windstorm. Breathing deep and hard, I get up from my desk chair, haul my ruined shirt over my head, and then pull the chest from the bottom of the walk-in wardrobe into the middle of the room. It unlocks with a beep when I enter the code.

The scourge I used to use most nights sits on top, ready and waiting. It’s been a long time since I’ve needed it. But it can keep me grounded and stop the evil from surfacing.

Pain. Death. Obliteration.

It works in that order.

Usually, I prefer to hunt and kill, send the Divine another offering, rather than torture myself in this room until I pass out.

But I saw her eyes when I sliced Christian’s jugular. She loved it. But there’s a part that hates it. She desires to become a God, yet she’s repulsed by it too.

She’s not ready.

I want her broken, not shattered. Her mind couldn’t take it. What festers in me…I don’t want that for Laine.

I will destroy myself and the badness within me before I let that happen.

Hours later, when I’m exhausted, and I’ve cleaned off the blood and bleached the bathroom, I’m about to sleep when she appears in my doorway, knife in hand, eyes misted with tears.

“I couldn’t stop him,” she lets out between strangled breaths, trying to slash at me.

“Shhhh.” I disarm her and guide her to bed. I’m not going to sleep now anyway.

More hours tick by until I’m stiff, my arm that she’s resting on is dead, and the predawn morning birdsong has spilled into the room enough to wake her; she blinks open her eyes, freezing at the sight of me.

She sits up, panic etched on her face. “What are you doing in my bed?”

I take the opportunity to move my arm and rub some life back into it. “I think you’ll find, you’re in mine.”

Laine looks around the room. “Did I—”

“Sleepwalk? Yes.” A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips as I sit up. Fuck, she’s adorable.

She eyes the bloody sheets with horror. “Oh God, what did I do? Did I hurt you?”

“A few cuts. I’ll be fine. Now go back to sleep.” I’ll probably need to see to the cuts, but that she slept in my arms was worth it.