Page 23 of Taken by the Ripper (Time for Monsters #9)

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s Claude had predicted, the vampires began stirring closer to sundown, judging by the scuffs of shoes against the echoing floor and low, muttering voices. How many vampires lived down here? How many were considered normal for a vampire den?

Claude’s hardened expression silently told her that this was a large den, but she didn’t dare even whisper her questions, afraid one of the vampires might hear her speak.

Soon enough, the faintest sliver of sunlight peeking into the room dissipated like a flame extinguished by a quiet breath. Sundown had arrived. And with it…

A grunt pulled her attention toward Claude’s tall frame. He grunted, then huffed, and finally released a garbled growl as his body shifted into something larger. Something darker. Something far more formidable.

“There you are,” she murmured. Emotion suddenly overcame her, and she launched herself into his ghoul arms and held on tight around the waist, burying her head into the ragged clothing barely covering his chest.

He released a long, labored breath as if the transformation had taxed him. “I was always here with you.” His gentle hands smoothed down her hair, much of which had escaped her bun hours ago.

“But Claude is—”

“—is still me. Just the less informed half of me.”

“Because he can’t remember his ghoul transformation.” Her face heated when she realized she’d kissed Claude, and it had been Jack the entire time. Or the other way around.

Jack—no, Claude—no, Jack—answered with deep, rumbling laughter, the sound shaking against her ear. “We are one person. I cannot remember my ghoul transformation in my human form. It makes for a…complicated situation.”

She lifted her head from his chest to look him in the eye, but she never released him. “Is there a way to help you remember?”

“I don’t know.”

Then she jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest. “You owe me several apologies and an explanation.”

He snatched her hand and lifted it to his lips, giving her fingers a slow, loving kiss.

“I was trying to protect you. To tell you as little as possible. It shouldn’t have come to this.

” He sighed. “But I will tell you everything. I promise. Or rather, what I haven’t said already.

You now know pretty much the entirety of it, minus a few minor details. ”

“What do I call you, then? Jack or Claude?” Because she was still having a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact that they were the same person.

“Claude is my name.”

“It’s not very ghoul-like.”

He snorted and gently chucked her chin. “Call me whatever you like. I’ll always answer.”

Somewhere down the hallway, a door slammed, and the sound reverberated against the stone walls surrounding them. It was nearly time to enact their plan. But first…

“How did the vampires not learn of your human identity when they first captured and turned you?”

“My body stays a ghoul when overly distressed. They didn’t find out because I never transformed back. At least until I was safe.”

“Why not use that other ghoul’s blood? The one that turned you.”

He grimaced. “Because I killed him to protect myself. Now there is only me.” He grinned. “Didn’t Claude tell you?”

She gave him a dead stare. “You conveniently left that out.”

“Because it happened when that part of my mind was unconscious. Claude wasn’t aware. Jack was.”

She rubbed at her temples. “You are giving me a headache. Well, the vampires likely know your identity now.”

“Perhaps. I don’t believe they are aware I can shift. None of them came in to check.”

“You’re sure?” Because she could have sworn to have felt at least one pair of eyes on her all night.

“I’m sure. Now let’s hurry. The night slowly approaches, and you won’t have Jack for very long.”

She nodded her head. “I’m ready.”

Claude lay on the ground, his body and breath eerily still. Her heart stuttered with momentary panic as she waited for even the faintest inhale. It didn’t come. He wasn’t dead. She knew he wasn’t dead. But seeing him like this was still disconcerting.

“Somebody help!” she screeched. “He touched the bars!”

A door banged open, and three vampires swooped into the dank room on silent feet. They took one look at Jack, and they, too, seemed a bit panicked like herself.

“He’s not breathing,” she gasped, letting out a bit of a sob to seal the performance. “He has no pulse.”

One of the vampires nodded toward the man closest to the door. “Find Ferdinand. If the ghoul dies, his blood will be no good anymore. He needs to be informed of this development immediately.”

The man disappeared from the room in a cloud of foggy smoke while the other two approached the cell. Not a single key jangled against another as one of them unlocked the door, a stark contrast against the squeal of the metal door opening.

“Uhhh,” the man said, eyebrows furrowed as he nudged Jack with his foot. “This doesn’t look good. Where’s that serum?” he asked the other. “It should work momentarily.”

The second vampire reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe needle filled with bubbly yellow liquid.

He stooped to inject it, but before he managed the feat, Claude moved so swiftly that even a vampire couldn’t counter his attack as he swept the man’s legs out from beneath him.

The man landed on the floor with a thud.

Clara watched the quick fight with a mixture of dread and fascination.

Using his claw, Claude ripped his left arm open, and within skin and muscle and blood lay a silver dagger, hidden inside his own body to avoid detection.

He jammed the dagger into the felled vampire’s chest. The second vampire gasped, eyes wide as he scrambled to escape.

But just as he started transitioning into smoke, Claude grabbed him by the throat and finished him off with the same bloody silver dagger as before.

She breathed heavily despite exerting no energy, staring back at Jack as he stood ripped and bleeding and tall and strong, holding that dagger in his hands.

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “You do realize your fascination with the macabre is disconcerting.”

“So you’ve said before.”

His lips twitched, fallen vampires forgotten as he grabbed her by the hand. “Stay close to me. Those vials of my blood are nearby. I can smell them.”

“And what about Mazie? We can’t just leave her here.”

As they traversed down a dark hallway that smelled like mildew and still water, he glanced over his shoulder at her with a regretful expression. “She made her choice. What more can you do?”

Deep down, Clara knew Claude was right. She knew she could do nothing to change things. But her stubborn spirit refused to back down. If she found an opportunity to drag her sister away from this pit of vampires, even kicking and screaming, she silently promised to take full advantage.

Along the way, they encountered a few more vampires. Claude took them down with his silver dagger, and after that, they quickly wised up. Many fled from his path of carnage. Others made themselves scarce.

Their footsteps slowed, so quiet that she wondered if even a vampire couldn’t detect them.

He led her around a few more corners before they entered a room filled with beakers and vials, bubbling liquid, syringes, and other scientific equipment.

Even as a nurse, Clara had no idea what a few of these things were.

Her curiosity probed, she approached a beaker suspended a few centimeters over a small flame.

Black liquid bubbled within, giving off a metallic stench that seared her nostrils with a single exhale.

“Careful,” Claude murmured, guiding her to a safer distance with his arm. “Breathing it in may not infect you, but I don’t want to take the chance.”

She nodded and watched as he began throwing beakers to the ground and smashing vials of black blood against the wall. Glass shattered. Tables toppled.

Clara couldn’t help but find fascination in the way the spikes on Claude’s back elongated in his chaotic destruction, the way his sharp teeth snapped and snarled, the way the large muscles in his arms and legs flexed with each table flipped and instrument destroyed.

She bit her knuckle, attempting to maintain a passive expression even when she found his strength beyond impressive. He could likely carry her on his shoulder with ease. He could probably carry fifteen of her and hardly break a sweat.

Something grabbed her from behind, startling a gasp from her mouth. “Claude!” she screamed. She attempted to spin around to punch her attacker, but they held on tight. Panic burst to life in Claude’s eyes, but he only managed to take a single step forward before something sharp stung her neck.

Dizziness poured through her mind. Her legs became weak. And then her bleary expression spotted the glass syringe sticking out of her body, the last of black ghoul’s blood entering her bloodstream.

“Clara!” Claude shouted, but he stopped in his tracks when the vampire holding her threw the syringe to the floor, breaking the glass, and pressed a knife to her throat instead.

“On your knees!” Ferdinand hissed near her ear, his voice sounding far away when her mind continued to sway with disorientation. “Or you will lose that which is most precious to you.”

Claude’s upper lip lifted as he growled. His knees hit the ground with a thud, his claws flexing with fury.

Ferdinand laughed. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but somehow, I knew it would.

You just can’t help yourself. Dirtying your hands for the greater good .

And look where your efforts have landed you.

” The vampire grabbed Clara’s hair and ripped her head back until she whimpered.

“You get to watch your pretty nurse turn into the very thing you’ve strived to keep off the streets. ”

“Let her go!” Claude begged. “Give her an antidote. I’ll do anything. My life is yours.”

“There is no antidote. I want ghouls on the streets. Why would I bother with an antidote?”