Jack A Grim Reaper Romance (30 page)

“Lilly, I know you’re angry with me, but I’ll not allow you to hand the Elders proof that this marriage is a sham. Do that and you’ll put all of us in jeopardy.”

She paced the floor, her hands clenched in fists, no doubt to keep herself from picking something up and hurling it at his head.

“Is that what this is all about?” She stopped before him and scoffed. “I’m no fool, Mason. You may have a few hundred years on me, but I was not born yesterday. And none of this would have happened if you hadn’t been an arse to start with. You attacked Corwin without provocation.”

“
I’m
doing all in my power to keep
you
from coming to harm, and
I’m
the arse.” His own temper was up now, the spirits he’d consumed loosening his tongue. “You ungrateful little wench.”

“Why not just call me the whore you think me to be?”

With hair loosened over her shoulders and eyes ablaze, she looked like the furies unleashed—and it made his heart ache. But with that ache, his anger melted, leaving him troubled and drained. He’d only wanted to do right by her—to keep her safe and cared for—yet she always thought the worst of him. Things would never work between them if she was not willing to see past the person he’d once been.

“You can choose to believe me or not, but I’d never think you a whore, Lilly. As for attacking your beloved, aye, I’m guilty. And make no mistake, I’d do it again if it taught you how to defend yourself. For that, I’m not sorry, love. Call me a bastard and an arse if you’d like, and that may very well be the case, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe—even if it garners me nothing but your hatred.”

Feeling exhausted and hollow, like he’d lost his heart, he decided he could argue with her no more, and without another word, he walked out the door as she called out to him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lilly’s emotions roiled and warred within her. Her head swam with confusion while anger and hurt pounded through her very being. The entire day had been banjaxed from the start, going from bad to worse. However, bad as her day had been, she refused to just sit there and have Mason push the blame on her and then walk away. She was raring for a fight when she stormed into his room and found him sitting in front of the fire nursing a drink.

“What do you want, Lilly?” He didn’t even bother to look at her, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames as he polished off his drink.

“I want you to stop using my safety as a way to manipulate situations so you can have your way. You may be chancellor, but you cannot use it to get what you want in our marriage.”

“Our marriage?” His eyebrow perked in question as he finally turned and looked at her. “Is that what we have? For it did not seem so just hours ago when you were lying in the arms of your other lover.”

“He’s not my lover, Mason.” She wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled. Corwin had done just as she asked and been no more than a comforting shoulder to rest her head on and a sympathetic ear, before heading to his own room for the night.

She’d be damned if she was going to let Mason point the finger and place the blame when she’d been nothing but honest about their marriage and their relations.

“Is that so?” His eyebrow perked in question.

His cool tone left her heart breaking. “You’re nothing but a fool, Mason.”

She fought back tears as she turned to leave, not wanting him to see her so vulnerable. It was beyond comprehension why she was crying over him when he was nothing but a surly bastard.

“Lilly… don’t go.” He caught up to her and grabbed her arm just as she put her hand on the door knob, sapping her of the strength to walk away from him. “You know it pains me to see you so upset.”

He pulled her into his arms, but it was as if he too was exhausted, his grip on her weak, his words weary. He was so unlike the man she was used to. Seeing him in this state with the dark circles under his eyes, his hair unkempt, and several days’ growth of stubble, she worried there was more bothering him than her running off with Corwin.

“Mason…” She leaned forward and he lowered his head to hers so they stood there with just a breath between them. “What’s happened? What has you so out of sorts?”

He let out a ragged breath and kissed her, the taste of spirits strong on his lips—spirits not of this world and far more potent. “I cannot do this, Lilly. I cannot give myself to you when you clearly want another. I thought it wouldn’t matter, but each time you walk away from me and each time you come to harm, it feels like my soul’s being ripped to shreds and raked over hot coals. It’s killing me, Lilly.
You’re
killing me. And I cannot bear it much longer.”

Never before had she seen him like this, and it shook her to her very marrow. She knew he was drunk, but the despair and pain in his voice was real and it tore her up inside. “I didn’t…” The words stuck in her throat. “I couldn’t do it, Mason. I’ve not taken him to my bed, love.”

He touched her cheek. “But don’t you see? The act itself matters not. You still wanted to, aye? I’ve seen how you look at him, and know your past together. Even if he had never crossed over into this life, you’d still question my feelings and dedication to you.” He closed his eyes and brushed his lips against her. “I cannot even fathom the thought of living without you, but perhaps you were right all along—we shouldn’t be together.”

His words left her reeling. “Don’t, Mason. Don’t you dare. Do you think I don’t know how difficult this is?” She shook her head. The fear of losing him mingled with her anger. “I’m sorry that I’ve been torn, but you cannot give up on us—not when we have yet to give it a proper go. And if you do, then you’re not the man I thought you were.”

“We’re just fooling ourselves, love. Go back to that bloody Viking of yours. Let him make you happy. No good will come from our relations—you were right all along.”

“You know that’s not true.” She fisted his shirt and pulled him close scared he might walk away then and there. “Damn you to hell, Mason. How can you give up when we’ve barely gotten started?”

He touched her face, brushed his thumb across her lips. “You’re killing me, Lilly.” His voice sounded so defeated and weary.

Cupping her face in his hands, his fingers tangled in her hair as she looked into those eyes, her heart desperate to hold onto him.

And then he kissed her—kissed her as if he might crumple to ash if he ever stopped.

***

Naked limbs tangled under the covers, as Lilly slowly awoke to Mason’s kisses. Last night, he’d made love to her slow and sweet, time and again, until they’d finally curled up spent in each other’s arms, sleep enveloping them.

Yet now, after a night’s rest, she wondered if things were sorted between them or if they would still be on unsure footing. She once again worried about giving him her heart fully, when he seemed so willing to throw it all away. The risk of having her heart broken seemed almost certain, but the thought of pushing him away and losing him felt even more devastating.

She pulled him close and he wrapped his arms around her, nestling his body against hers. He leaned over and kissed her, but his eyes were still tainted with worry. “Will you go back to him?”

“I still love him, but I cannot bear to lose you. Even when he held me, my thoughts were still with you.” She didn’t want to relive last night’s argument, but his words still nagged at her, and she knew it’d do no good to ignore them. “I think I want to make this marriage work, however, I need to know if you truly mean what you said last night—that we’d be better off apart.”

“
You’d
be better off without me. Of that I have no doubt, love.” He sighed and tightened his grip on her. “As for the rest, it was just the romari wine. It can sometimes take me the wrong way if I have too much.”

“Or perhaps it brings out the truth about how you really feel.” She laid there in his arms, but unease crept into her soul, leaving her weary and wondering once more if she should trust her heart to Mason.

“I do love you, Lilly. With all my heart.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

September 27, 1888

Letter sent to the Central News Agency

Dear Boss,

I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the
right
track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper
red
stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope
ha. ha.
The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck.

Yours truly
Jack the Ripper

Dont mind me giving the trade name

PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it.

No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now.
ha ha

***

September 30, 1888

It’d been raining heavy on and off. The wet soaked Jack to the bone, his mind numb as the knife cut through flesh, the woman’s throat slit. It was a madness Jack had no control over, yet it was imperative to protect what was dear.

The sound of hoof beats on the stone cobbles forced him to slip into the shadows, the evil deed not yet complete. The pounding of Jack’s heart echoed in his head as the cart approached, even though the man could be charmed if need be. Still, it mattered not, for Jack’s hands would be covered in blood even if the truth was never discovered.

Jack thought of Lilly—of Mason—and knew they’d be here soon enough. It was too tempting to put a stop to it all. To turn himself in, to let them have him, to tell them the truth. For it would have to come to an end soon. The insanity could not continue much longer.

Yet, before the horrors could come to an end, death would come again this evening as Jack felt the pull once more.

He would kill again this night, and blood would run in the streets.

Chapter Thirty

Mason turned to Lilly, who still slept nestled up against him. It was nearly two in the morning. “Wake up, love.” He gave her a bit of a shake. “There’s been another murder.”

As she stirred awake, sleep clung to her like a fog on the moors. “What… what did you say?” She sat up, propped on an elbow, her eyes squeezed shut against the light he’d just lit.

He brushed a stray curl away from her eyes, wishing she didn’t have to go through this again. “It’s Jack. A woman was just found slain in Dutfield’s Yard, off Berner Street. Her throat was cut.”

Mason hastily pulled on his clothes and Lilly followed suit with a simple gown, though on her nothing ever looked plain. His gut churned in anticipation and worry, hoping he’d get to the crime scene before Nelson, for there’d be little chance of getting anything done once he arrived. Despite Damon’s promise to have Nelson disciplined for Corwin’s death, he’d yet to suffer any consequences for his actions.

A fine rain fell upon them as they stepped out into the night. Lilly climbed into the carriage when Pierce put a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “There’s been a second woman found and it’s far more brutal than anything we’ve seen up ‘til now.”

“Two in one night?” Mason shook his head, not wanting to believe it. “He must be mad. There can be no other explanation.” He climbed into the carriage and sat by Lilly, with Pierce squeezing in next to him.

Pierce kept his voice low, no doubt to avoid upsetting her. “He was interrupted during the first slaying and didn’t get to…
finish
the matter in his desired method. The second killing is consistent with the others.”

“We’ll go to the first while we still have the opportunity to recreate the scene. From there we can move on to the next. Where was the second body found?”

“Mitre Square. It’d take him three quarters of an hour to get there from Berner Street if he stayed on foot, but far less in a hansom. It fits the time frame, aye?”

Mason knew Lilly could still hear all that was said, her body stiff by his side as she stared out the window into the inky blackness. He hated to see her upset—especially over Jack and these killings—and even more so, hated for her to worry about her own well being. There had been enough murders for her to now know that someone would be digging around in her head, and it wouldn’t be pleasant. He was not sure if Nelson would be there, but knew she’d be worried about it.