Page 19 of Taken by the Ripper (Time for Monsters #9)

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n officer fanned Clara’s face from where she sat within the arms of a cushioned chair, her mind still spinning as she tried to listen to another officer’s report. With her mind spinning and her heart pulsing through her ears, she only caught bits and pieces of the situation.

But it was enough.

Mazie had escaped outside to get fresh air during her break at the Ten Bells Pub. Or that was one account from a patron, drunk at that. Another testimony claimed she’d left with someone, lured outside by a handsome stranger.

When her sister had been absent for too long, the owner had gone out looking for her, only to find splotches of fresh blood and a scene in the alleyway that appeared to be none other than a scuffle.

Now, Mazie was missing. Presumed dead. But Clara’s disbelieving heart refused to acknowledge their presumptions in the slightest. Mazie may be stupid sometimes, but she wasn’t entirely lacking wits.

“She’s missing,” the officer with the thin, curled mustache repeated for the second time. “And based on all the blood at the scene… She’s presumed dead.”

“There is no body,” Clara argued, defiance burning in her eyes.

“No, but—”

“If there is no body, you cannot prove her death.” Until she saw her sister’s lifeless corpse with her own eyes, she refused to believe she was gone. “Was anything left at the scene?”

The officer grimaced. “Nothing a lady should hear about.”

She stood on surprisingly sturdy feet and poked the man repeatedly in the chest. “I have seen things that would make a grown man cry. Tell me what you found.”

Again, he grimaced as he glanced over his shoulder. When another officer nodded his permission, he said, “A torn scarf, a bloodied glove, and…”

“And?”

“And, well, something that appears to be a canine tooth. It’s currently in evidence to figure out what we’re dealing with.”

A canine tooth…

Suddenly, all the blood rushed from her face when she realized what a sharp, elongated tooth might mean.

Vampire.

Mazie was taken by vampires. It was the only logical solution. Had they infected her? What would happen if they had?

She was going to be sick.

Another realization hit her, and she covered her mouth with her hand when she truly thought she might retch.

In the alleyway, the vampires had tried to infect her.

Jack had come to her rescue. If they wanted Jack, they were getting to him by getting to Clara.

Or perhaps they were angry that she’d gotten away in the first place.

And like the foolish woman she was, she began hatching a plan. A terrible plan. A plan that could get herself killed or worse.

But it was the only plan she had, and if she didn’t start to enact it quickly, she might never see Mazie again as she once was.

She snatched a piece of parchment and a quill from the table near the door and wrote as neatly as her racing heart allowed. In reality, she worried the warning note was illegible as it was.

i should have Gone and told you everytHing when yOu were here. don’t let this detract yoU from your originaL goal.

-Clara

The capitalized letters spelled GHOUL . It was all she could do without tipping off anyone else, such as the ignorant officers, and placing them in danger as well. Claude would know what it meant.

She couldn’t wait around for Jack to show his face. Nor could she scour the city trying to find Claude. If there was any chance to help her sister, this was it. Claude was going to have to find her .

And if he couldn’t or wouldn’t…

Well, then she was on her own.

But Claude said she could trust him. And right now? She was choosing to do so. If he could hunt down Jack, they would have a chance to save Mazie. If she was still alive.

She folded up the note, placed it in an envelope, and handed it to the mustached officer. “If you see Detective La Cour, please give it to him immediately.” She paused and stared blankly at the floor. “I want to be alone.”

The man dipped his head and placed his hat back on. “I’m very sorry, Miss Thompson. If anything turns up, we’ll let you know.”

The officers turned to leave, and she watched them as they exited the estate. The moment the door closed behind them, Clara rushed back toward the infirmary and began snatching a few supplies and stuffing them into her pocket. A rolled bandage. Needle and catgut thread. Two scalpels.

But a sniff from the corner urged her to spin around to find Norma dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Although her sister said nothing, she had clearly overheard her conversation with the police.

“Be strong,” Clara murmured, squeezing Norma’s shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. She stroked her sister’s long, golden curls kinked around her shoulders as if she’d recently pulled pins out of her hair. “We’ll find Mazie, and she will be just fine.”

Norma shook her head, her fingers trembling as she swiped the tears running down her cheeks with her handkerchief. “I heard what the officers said.”

She lifted Norma’s chin until she met her gaze. “You listen to me . Not to them. A death is never confirmed without a body. Mazie is a fighter. If anyone could have survived, it’s her. I refuse to believe she’s gone. She’s too stubborn for that.”

Watery laughter escaped Norma’s mouth. “I suppose you’re right. There is no sense in mourning just yet.”

Clara squeezed her sister’s shoulders reassuringly and lied to her face, because sometimes lies were necessary. “The police will find her. Don’t you worry about a thing. Go off to bed, and don’t leave the house. Don’t let anyone in, either. No visitors. No patients. No one.”

Norma swiped the back of her hand across her teary eyes. “What about you? You never turn down a patient.”

“I won’t be able to rest without knowing you are safe. Promise me, Norma.”

Norma nodded and untied her apron from around her waist, tossing it into the dirty hamper resting against the wall. She started toward the hallway but paused mid-step and glanced over her shoulder.

“Your friend will help, won’t he?”

“My friend?” Admittedly, she had few friends and wasn’t sure what she meant. “Yes, I’m sure the detective will make this a priority.”

But Norma shook her head. “Your other friend.”

The blood drained from Clara’s face when she realized what her sister referred to. The Ripper. “How do you know about him?”

“He’s come by several times. He scared me at first. But he was kind. He’s misunderstood but means no harm.”

Clara sagged against the wall as unexpected relief lifted a portion of the weight pressing down on her shoulders. Perhaps she wasn’t as insane as she’d previously thought. If Norma thought well of Jack, then she knew she hadn’t misjudged his character.

“He’s a good man.” Even though she didn’t know his name. Even though she had never seen him in broad daylight. But she trusted her gut instinct, which told her she could place her trust in him.

With a nod, Norma continued on her way down the hallway, and Clara kept still until she caught the quiet patter of her feet on the staircase.

Only then did she move quickly to snatch several more items from the infirmary, don on a coat, and slip outside to the back of the house to try to avoid notice by anyone who might still linger outside or be watching from a window.

She slowly and quietly rounded the estate, her heart beating fiercely in her chest. The loud pulse in her ears seemed to shout Mazie’s name with each beat.

Although she had no idea where the den of vampires resided, she did know one thing—a trail always started somewhere.

The skies burned like fire above her, with yellow, red, and orange hues to match the turmoil running rampant through her soul. As she followed the roads through Whitechapel, those sunset colors slowly faded into a darker hue until only a faint pink lingered in the sky.

The crowds thickened the nearer she approached the Ten Bells. The hum of murmuring voices grew into a loud roar when she rounded the corner and lost herself in the throng of people surrounding the pub.

Clara stood on her toes and craned her neck to try to peer over the shoulders of a woman several centimeters taller than her, but an even taller man blocked her line of sight. For just a moment, the crowd shifted to give her a better look at the crime scene.

Police officers kept the crowd at bay with their bodies when the rope seemed to have little effect at holding them back.

She craned her neck again in search of a certain blond-haired detective, but as far as she could see, Claude was absent from the scene.

If not here, then where was he?

No time remained to ponder over his whereabouts when she had a sister to find.

Lampposts flickered to life as the lamplighters quietly went about their jobs, racing against the waning light.

Shadows seemed to follow in her wake as she pulled away from the throng and moved closer to the partitioned-off alleyway behind the pub.

Dark alleyways appeared to be a vampire favorite, and it was as good of a start as any.

Other nosey passersby tried to cross the rope line for a better look at the crime scene, which occupied two officers’ attention long enough for them to step away from the alley.

Clara glanced back and forth, took a deep breath to steel her nerves, and slipped beneath the rope and between the thin brick walls casting heavy shadows at her feet like a lure to catch a prized fish.

Someone called after her. She didn’t turn to look and instead quickened her pace around full garbage bins and empty crates.

Until the darkness swallowed her whole.

She carried no lantern, no candle, could not use the sunlight for direction. But it didn’t matter. Finding her way was not her ultimate goal.

Because the vampires were going to come to her.

The voices beside the pub faded in the distance until they were only a dull trickle in comparison to a roaring waterfall of noise.

She paused to listen to her surroundings.

An incoherent mumbling coming from a homeless man somewhere around the corner.

A drip of water running down the rooftop behind her.

The clomping of hooves from a passing carriage the next street over.

Otherwise, all was quiet. She was alone.

Determination stole over her as she pulled out the scalpel from her pocket, and not giving herself a moment to reflect on her decision, she slit the small blade across her palm.

She hissed at the sting of pain and watched as a rivulet of blood dripped down her hand.

It pooled at the tip of her finger and plummeted toward the ground.

But before it plopped onto the cobblestone, someone caught her hand and brought it smoothly and silently to their mouth, licking the blood from her palm.

“I was waiting for you,” the man whispered in her ear in a seductive tone.

She squeezed her eyes shut and released a shuddering breath. Although every instinct in her body screamed at her to run, to fight, to flee, she remained still and accepted the fate she had brought onto herself.

“Where is my sister?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

“Exactly where you think she is.”

In the den of vampires, then.

“Bring me to her.”

The vampire playfully nipped at her ear. “As you wish, my dear.” He draped a silk handkerchief over her eyes and tied it behind her head, effectively blinding her senses. “But as some people say… Be careful what you wish for.”

Then he picked her up in a quick, agile swoop, and she allowed herself to be captured by the very creature that had created chaos all across Whitechapel.

And she didn’t know if she would make it back out alive.