Ripper Read online

  “So I’ll go to Christina’s,” I said. “I’ll warn her, and we can all meet up there.”

  “Absolutely not,” William said. “You can’t go alone.”

  “We have too! People’s lives are at stake and we’re wasting time.”

  Simon hesitated in the doorway, but he knew I was right. He nodded at me and left.

  “No.” William grabbed my arm, but I shook him off.

  “Just go find Scribby and Mary. Hurry! I’ll see you at Christina’s shortly.”

  I sprinted away without another word.

  I ran fast, and caught a carriage after a few blocks. As it sped away, I saw the moon rise high over the Thames, bright even amidst the rolling thunderclouds. Night had arrived, and I didn’t know if I would see another morning.

  Twenty-five

  Christina! Christina!” I shouted as I burst through her front door.

  All was silent except for Hugo’s barking from far above me, up in William’s bedroom where it seemed the dog must be shut in.

  “Christina!”

  No answer.

  I walked through the dining room. A note for William awaited him. It was from Christina—she had gone to work at New Hospital that evening.

  A sense of foreboding washed over me. Apart from Hugo’s barks, something seemed eerie, too quiet, about the house. When I ran to the parlor, I found it empty too, excepting for the parrot Toby in his cage. A fire roared in the fireplace, illuminating Polidori’s face.

  Gazing up at the portrait, I considered William’s handsome great uncle in a new light.

  “You knew,” I whispered. “You knew about all this.”

  A loud noise came from another part of the house, near Perdita’s bedroom.

  My heart pounded in my chest.

  As I stood frozen, I tried to think rationally. It was probably Perdita; she could have made the noise. She was almost blind and had poor hearing; she might not have heard me shouting.

  Nonetheless, I removed a poker from the fireplace as I crept out of the parlor, into the hallway toward her bedroom.

  The bedroom door was slightly open.

  Softly, so that I would not scare the old woman, I knocked.

  “Perdita?” I whispered, tightening my hold on the poker but concealing it in the folds of my skirt so as not to frighten her.

  The door creaked as I pushed it open. The room was small, with very few furnishings. A thin stream of light from a streetlamp broke through a crack in the drawn window curtains, illuminating the bed. A figure lay under the bedcovers. My stomach churned when I saw the pillow covering the face.

  I approached the bed cautiously and removed the pillow.

  Slamming my hand over my mouth to suppress a scream, I leaped back from the bed. The old woman’s cataract-covered eyes stared, lifeless, up in the air. The frozen expression on her face was one of horror.

  Max!

  Then the vision came over me with great force, a vision of the chalice with the A Posse Ad Esse inscription. I fell to my knees, my kneecaps hitting the wooden floor painfully. The poker fell from my hand. This vision was strong and my insides felt on fire. I tried to fight it, to bring myself out; Max could be anywhere, and likely in this room with me. My fear for William and Simon escalated. I hoped they would arrive soon.

  I screamed as the vision dissipated and I felt myself lifted with great force.

  “No!” I yelled.

  Max threw me hard onto the bed. I tried to fight him before he could get me pinned. I kicked, spit; I clawed at him, but he was too fast, anticipating all of my movements. Within seconds he was on top of me, immobilizing me. I wished I could move, even a little, as Perdita’s body had jolted into mine during the struggle.

  “You killed her, an old woman! And you killed my friend!”

  Max just smiled in the darkness; it was a satisfied smile. Everything was going his way.

  “I heard that you refused Marcus’s very polite, very generous offer. I was incensed. It was perhaps beneath me, but you see, Abbie, I am a slave to my senses. That is my Achilles heel, some would say. You needed some heavy persuasion—so I thought I would start with your nurse friend.”

  Horror washed over me. Max had super-human speed, and I feared for Simon and William—perhaps we had already fallen into a trap where he had killed them first and then met me here to terrify me into joining the Conclave.

  “Simon and William! Where are they? What did you do to them?”

  Rage surged through me. Max’s face was only inches from my own. I lunged upward, biting his cheek hard. I tasted blood.

  That made him angry.

  I tried to push aside all the visions swarming through my mind of the murders, of how swift he had been in his kills, of what had just happened to Liliana in the bed in a matter of minutes. And now I was in bed with the Ripper. I screamed as, in a single movement, he twisted both my arms above my head, pinning them to the bed behind me with one hand. Shooting pain coursed down my shoulder blades, and, in horror, I realized that somehow Max had brought my skirts high to press a knife blade hard against my thigh. He was on top of me, and I knew, in that moment, that I was completely in his power.

  The wound on his cheek was a dark half moon. It would scar. “You’re not in a position to fight me, Abbie Sharp.”

  I glared at him and felt tears come to my eyes as the pain in my thigh intensified. Any moment the blade would break through my skin.

  He brought the knife up slowly to my face, running the blade along my cheek. I smelled the rusty scent of blood.

  I fought a consuming horror as I realized the full extent of what was happening. This wasn’t a second chance. Max had already killed William and Simon. I had refused the Conclave’s offer, so now it was my turn. I remembered the corpse on the bed. Mutilated beyond recognition. Max enjoyed this; he would take his time torturing and killing me, a perfect way for him to spend the hours until Christina returned and he could then kill her. After that, everyone who knew the secret and the existence of the Conclave would be dead.

  My mind raced, panicked, as I tried to think of a way to escape.

  With great force, I bucked my whole body up against him, although I knew the momentum would be useless with his position on top of me. His weight crushed me, and I felt only a little relief as he arched upward, moving the knife slowly from my cheek downward toward my right breast.

  I shuddered as he began, almost playfully, cutting the buttons away from the front of my dress. “You are allowed one question. One question only.”

  He stopped, smiled. Met my eyes. “And I think I know what you’re going to ask.”

  “What did you do to them, to William and Simon?”

  Against my will I began to cry, hoping that their deaths had been fast.

  “They’re alive.”

  My heartbeat quickened as I felt my hopes soar.

  “For now.” His look was sharp as he cut away another button. “And I am not going to kill you, at this time. The Conclave has decided to give you another chance. Your last chance, Abbie Sharp. The others are collecting William and Simon, and they should soon be at our house. You have a meeting with Julian, Marcus, Robert, and John there, tonight.”

  He paused, cutting away another button.

  “If you refuse this time, your paramours die. You die.”

  “And if I accept, you will let them live?”

  Max brought the knife downward, back to my upper thigh. I braced myself for a cut, but he just pressed the blade hard against my skin.

  “We might negotiate.”

  “Leave Christina alone. She knows nothing.”

  His eyes glinted at the lie.

  “She’s safe for now, Abbie. We’ll see how you behave.”

  I thought about trying to attack him again
, but I knew I had to be more cautious now that William and Simon were Conclave prisoners. One wrong move could be disastrous.

  He finished cutting the last button off the front of my dress. I knew he had to keep me alive, but I did not know what else he intended to do. Fear coursed through me. He wanted me to be afraid. With great effort, I steadied my breathing and met his eyes. It was a challenge.

  “Abbie.” He moved the knife upward to my throat. “I loathe leaving you now, but I must. I have some further Conclave business to attend tonight.”

  “More killing,” I spit out.

  He pushed the knife harder into my throat and tears slid down my cheek at the sharp pain.

  “No more questions. The others are going to handle the killing tonight if you refuse. They did it for three hundred years before I came onto the scene. However, if something happens and I have to step in, it won’t be pretty. So no foolish rescue missions, Abbie Sharp. You have a choice—to live, immortal with us, and possibly save your friends, or to die.”

  He released some of the pressure of the knife at my throat.

  “You are to leave, to go straight to our house. And trust me, love, I’ll know if you don’t make it there. Everything depends upon you tonight.”

  He was silent, contemplating me in the darkness. I held my breath, trying to guess what his next move would be.

  He kissed me hard, violently, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I struggled and tried to scream. I smelled, tasted, the blood from his cheek wound. The contact caused my mind to ignite, swirling and enflamed as I saw the chalice, the words, burned into my mind. As before, this vision was so strong it pained me.

  Max pulled away, his smile brilliant in the darkness. “It beckons you, Abbie. Goodbye.”

  He was gone, disappeared into the darkness. I was alone, frozen, lying on my back on the bed, the dead woman beside me.

  I felt trapped. A mouse in a cage. I had no plan. No plan whatsoever. But there would be no chance to save William and Simon if I didn’t get to Montgomery Street.

  Twenty-six

  After hastily pinning together my dress, I began walking in the direction of Montgomery Street. It was a long walk and fog had settled all around. I still shivered from my experience with Max. He said he had some Conclave business to attend to, but he could be anywhere, even near me now, making certain that I arrived. I felt weary, exhausted. But thinking of William and Simon, that there might be a possibility of saving them, drove me on.

  I had to go, try to bargain for my friends’ lives. But I was aware of the only acceptable condition for their lives, the price I must pay. Even then, their lives might not be spared. After all, I was bargaining with murderers.

  A cat ran across the street in front of me and I suppressed a dark chuckle. Nine lives.

  I knew that Simon and William’s only chance for survival depended on me taking the elixir. As I approached the house, I asked myself what I feared about this option. Of course, I could not remain with the Conclave, tolerating their murders. But I could perhaps flee from them, taking the elixir formula with me. I contemplated living out immortality in my own way. I remembered Mother’s death, how she had wasted, suffered. I thought of all the illnesses, the deaths, the stillborns at the hospital. Perhaps I could have lifetimes to learn to help people without murdering.

  The Conclave house was directly before me.

  I ascended the steps, and I knew, even as these thoughts raced through my mind, that I could not drink the elixir. In consuming it, I would set myself above the rest of the human race—I could cheat death, cheat aging. It was an unfair advantage. And the persistent, unalterable fact remained: everyone could not live forever.

  Dr. Bartlett opened the door almost immediately.

  “Abbie, I am delighted to see you. Come, come in out of that cold.”

  It was as if I had arrived for one of his dinner parties. He was all cheer and good humor.

  I scanned the house. Light streamed down the stairs. From the dark drawing room I saw the phosphorescent patterns of the jellyfish aquarium dancing along the walls.

  “Where are they, Dr. Bartlett? Simon and William. Where are you keeping them?”

  “Our meeting first, Abbie.”

  I felt my fury rise. He was all politeness when we all knew that my life, as well as William’s, Simon’s, and Christina’s, was at stake. I followed him up the stairs and past the closed door to the gallery. As I walked, wondering where they held Simon and William, I had a sudden racing fear that my friends might not be alive. Perhaps the Conclave had lied to me in order to lure me here for this meeting.

  The hall wound sharply to the right and then to the left again as we approached a door at the end of the corridor.

  Dr. Bartlett opened the door, which led into a large room furnished with only an enormous, slablike table, a suit of armor, and a fireplace. The entire Conclave, excepting Max, sat at the table, their eyes upon me.

  I panicked a bit. I had no idea what I would say, and so much depended upon me knowing for certain that William and Simon were alive.

  “Do be seated, Miss Sharp,” Dr. Buck said, gesturing to an empty chair across the table as Dr. Bartlett seated himself to the right of Reverend Perkins. Reverend Perkins’s eyes bore into me. If it were up to him, I would be dead already.

  After a very odd exchange of pleasantries where an outsider would never have guessed that the outcome of the meeting might be my execution, Dr. Buck cleared his throat quietly.

  “I understand that our offer was not accepted.”

  I started to speak, but he raised his hand, silencing me.

  “We are giving you another chance, Miss Sharp. We thought you should meet with all of us, once more, before making a decision.”

  “Did you order Max to kill my friend Mary and an old woman?” I asked. “Then you kidnapped William and Simon. To threaten me?”

  Dr. Buck and Dr. Bartlett met eyes quickly before Dr. Bartlett stated, “Max has his own methods.”

  “But his murders are ordered by you, and it was you who took William and Simon against their wills.”

  They all remained silent, unwilling to acknowledge that they persuaded anyone by these means. Dr. Bartlett lit a pipe.

  They looked like ordinary, professional, middle-aged men. Still, I did not understand why I had not seen more of their peculiarities when I first met them. Earlier today, in Hampstead Heath, the light had been too hazy to see it clearly. But now I saw, in each of their eyes, pieces, layers of the history they had witnessed, sweeping like ocean waters back and forth over a wrecked ship. This was the aspect about them that made them seem not quite human.

  Dr. Brown spoke first, kindly waving his hand as if brushing away a leaf.

  “None of that matters, Miss Sharp. The point is, are you or are you not willing to join us? This is an extraordinary opportunity, and we are giving you a second chance to make a decision.”

  “A last chance,” Reverend Perkins growled.

  I was silent. I had learned about the workings of the philosopher’s stone from Dr. Brown and Dr. Bartlett the day before, and my decision had been made. I had no more questions—no other way to stall them. The crackling of the fire in the fireplace deafened my ears.

  “I want to see William and Simon before giving you any answer.”

  “They are fine,” Dr. Buck said. “Safe. And as you know, we are open to … ”

  “Max said that you might negotiate with me for their lives.”

  “We might … ” Dr. Buck began.

  “I insist on seeing them now.”

  Dr. Brown started to say something, but Dr. Bartlett cut him off. “It’s quite all right. She can see them. John, you have the key?”

  Reverend Perkins sighed loudly and stood up.

  While the rest of the Conclave stayed in the room, R
everend Perkins led me back through the winding hallway and down the main staircase. He took me back down the corridor to the room where the ritual had taken place. The enormous doors were closed. Reverend Perkins took out a set of keys and unlocked them.

  The room was dark and bare except for a few lit candles on the floor; I did not even see the chalice. William and Simon sat in chairs, back to back, in the opposite part of the windowless room, their hands cuffed together and also to the chairs.

  They were alive.

  “Might I have a moment with them, alone?”

  Perkins’s eyes veiled, hardened. But he shut the door, leaving me alone.

  I rushed to them, frantic, desperate. I had to free them.

  “William!” As I came close to him, I saw that his right eye was purple, darkly bruised, and almost bloody looking.

  “William thought it would be a good idea to fight John and Robert when they came to take him away,” Simon said dryly. “He only regained consciousness a few minutes ago. Of course, it could have been worse. They had guns.”

  I tugged at the cuffs. Both of their wrists had been bloodied after struggling against the cuffs so vigorously.

  “I’m fine.” William said almost irritably, and with renewed energy began trying to free himself. “What’s happening? What have they said to you?”

  “I have only a few moments with you,” I whispered. “They’re giving me a second chance to join them, and I demanded to see you, to see that you were alive, before giving them an answer. Is the cuff key with Reverend Perkins, on his key ring?” I asked Simon quickly.

  “Yes, he locked the cuffs when they brought us in here.”

  I cursed under my breath. Sweat dripped down my face and I was close to a panic.

  “Do you have anything I can try to pick the lock with?”

  “A pocketknife. We’ve been unable to reach it, but it is in my pocket,” William said.

  In a second, I retrieved the knife and began working at the lock. I tried to keep my back to the door. For all I knew, Reverend Perkins was watching us through the keyhole.