Huntress

ONE

Paris, 1889

I leaned forward in my seat, resting my hands on the railing of our private box at the Paris Opera, and watched my friend Justine take the stage. As the music washed over me, I smiled, remembering the night when Henri Meilhac, Bizet’s librettist, had first seen her perform, and had announced that she had been born to play the role of Carmen. It was fortunate that Devlin, Justine’s consort, had turned her into a vampire, or she would have missed the opportunity by about two hundred years.

The door behind me softly opened and closed a moment before Michael slid silently into the seat next to me. Glancing at him, I admired how handsome he looked in his black evening clothes. I turned to scold him for missing the opening, but the expression on his face halted my words.

“What is it?” I whispered.

“I was delayed by a warden who insists on speaking with you immediately,” Michael replied.

I glanced across the theater to the box where Antoine, the vampire Regent of Paris, sat surrounded by his lieutenants and ladies.

“Why the devil does one of Antoine’s wardens need to talk to me?” I asked impatiently.

Michael shook his head. “He’s not Antoine’s, love. He’s English.”

“Oh, bugger,” I muttered and sank into my chair.

Devlin, Justine, Michael, and I were The Righteous.

We were in essence the police force of the vampire world, answerable only to the High King of the Vampires. It was our job to deal with anything that a Regent or his wardens couldn’t handle. Mostly this consisted of executing rogue vampires who broke the laws set down by the High King. Sometimes, however, we were called in to deal with more delicate matters, such as deposing a ruler who had gone mad, or refereeing a local power struggle. The names of The Righteous were spoken in fearful whispers throughout the vampire nation and no Regent would ask for our help lightly. If a warden had come all the way to Paris from England to find us, it could only mean that our brief holiday, and Justine’s run as Carmen, was about to come to an abrupt end.

I leaned over and whispered to Devlin, “Duty calls. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Devlin nodded. “Let me know if you need me,” he said, never taking his eyes off the stage.

I smiled at the look of intense pride and raw lust on his face as he watched his consort below.

“You enjoy the performance,” I said. “We’ll handle this.”

I turned back to Michael and he stood, offering me his arm. Curling my fingers into the fabric of his coat, I felt the hard muscles underneath leap in response. He glanced down at me as we exited the box and gave me a wicked smile.

“Ah, my whiskey-eyed lass, have I told you yet tonight how much I love you and how beautiful you are?” he asked.

I paused and turned to him, sighing inwardly as I brushed his hair away from his sparkling blue eyes. Michael’s dark blond hair, which he always wore longer than was fashionable, never failed to look as though I’d been running my fingers through it. Probably because I had. After nearly three quarters of a century together, I still couldn’t keep my hands off my dashing husband.

“You’ve told me at least twice,” I replied softly, “but a woman can never hear it too many times.”

I thought my new burgundy evening gown, with its black lace and jet beads, was particularly lovely. Hoop skirts had thankfully gone out of style years ago, and the use of bustles was in decline. I sincerely hoped such good sense would soon herald a return to the more uncomplicated fashions of my youth. My new dress was the first one in years that I truly adored. My blood-red hair was done up in artful curls, and Michael reached out to tuck an errant strand behind my ear.

A discreet cough came from somewhere behind me. All thoughts of my handsome husband were suspended as I turned to see a rather grim-looking dark-haired young man waiting in the hall. I closed the distance between us and silently regarded him. He’d been young when he was turned, perhaps only eighteen or nineteen years old. He didn’t look as one would expect a warden to look, but I’d learned long ago never to judge a vampire in such terms. Michael was a prime example of that. He didn’t have Devlin’s great height, or his massive build, but he was a brawler, and infinitely the more dangerous of the two. I would reserve judgment on this young man until I’d seen him in action.

“Miss Craven,” the warden said, executing a respectful bow. “My name is Grady and I am a warden for the Regent of London.”

It was rare for vampires to use surnames. Though Michael and I had been married for well over half a century, there was no tradition among our kind of a wife taking her husband’s last name, as there was in the human world. I had not abandoned the use of my family name after I was turned, therefore I would forever be “Miss Craven” to those showing respect. To those who spoke my name in fearful whispers, I was Cin Craven, the Red Witch of the Righteous, or simply the Devil’s Witch.

“Warden,” I said coolly. “You’ve traveled a long way. What is so important that it couldn’t wait until the conclusion of the opera?”

“I was instructed by the Regent to come here with all haste and speak to you immediately,” he said, glancing nervously at Michael. “And privately.”

“You may speak freely in front of my husband, Warden,” I assured him. “We keep no secrets from each other.”

The warden shifted his weight uncomfortably. “My instructions were very clear, ma’am, and I dare not disobey the Regent. I am to speak to you, and only you.”

Well, that certainly isn’t going to happen, I thought. Already I could feel the tension in Michael’s body at the warden’s strange request.

I cocked my head to one side. “I don’t recall Charles being such an ogre,” I said.

“Charles is no longer Regent,” the warden replied. “He was challenged and defeated last year. The new Regent is young, but he’s strong and ruthless.

“Who is he?” I asked out of curiosity. Whoever he was, he had already begun to annoy me.

“His name is Sebastian,” the warden replied.

I stilled, my stomach clenching. “Sebastian Montford?” I asked.

Grady nodded. “I believe that was his human name, yes.”

At that confirmation Michael shot forward, his hand curling around the warden’s throat.

Grady’s eyes widened in fear, as well they should have. Once, when we’d both been human, Lord Sebastian Montford had wanted to marry me, though I had not returned his affections. Perhaps my polite but firm rejection of his offer had hardened his heart to me, or perhaps it had only turned his love into some dark and twisted thing. Whatever the case, when Sebastian had been made a vampire, he and his master had come for me. Sebastian had wanted me in his power, and they’d both wanted control of my magic. Fortunately, though, The Righteous had come to my aid. In order to save me, Michael had turned me into a vampire. I had become his lover, and later his wife. I don’t think Sebastian would ever forgive either one of us for that.

“What game are you playing at, boy?” Michael growled.

There was a soft gasp from the hallway behind me, and I turned to see a white-haired dowager flutter her fan and duck back through the door to her private box.

“Michael,” I said calmly, laying my hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to make a scene.”

“It’s not a game,” the warden said. “I was sent to bring the Devil’s Witch back to London.”

Michael laughed harshly. “Does Sebastian Montford not recall that I promised to kill him if I ever saw him again?”

“I am supposed to bring her, and her alone,” Warden Grady said.

Michael pulled the warden closer. “You go back to your Regent,” he said in a voice that sent shivers up my spine, “and you tell him that if he ever again tries to get to Cin, I will hunt him down and set him on fire.”

Michael released the warden with a shove and Grady staggered back. Righting himself, he straightened the collar of his shirt and tugged at his coat.

“So you won’t help me?” he asked.

“Help you?” Michael replied incredulously. “Help you put the woman I love in the hands of a man who tried to enslave her when she was human? I think not.”

Warden Grady clenched his jaw and a very firm look of resolve settled on his face. “I don’t know what history you have with the Regent,” he said, “and I don’t bloody well care.”

Michael raised his eyebrows and started to say something, but I laid my hand on his sleeve to still his invective.

When he realized that Michael wasn’t likely to grab him by the throat again, the warden stood taller, and continued. “I assure you that the threat to our city is very real. We’ve lost ten percent of the vampire population in just over three months. I did not travel all this way to reignite whatever feud you have with the regent. If that had been Sebastian’s intention, he would have sent someone else. I am not one of his lackeys. I am a deputy warden of the city of London, and the policing and security of our vampires is my responsibility. In point of fact, I have argued long and hard to call you to help with this problem, and I believe it proves just how reluctant Sebastian was to have you in his city that he waited this long to allow me to do so. If it had been entirely up to me, I would have tracked you down two months ago.”

“What’s happening in London?” I asked with concern. Ravenworth, my home when I’d been human, was only thirty miles from the city. As a human and a vampire, London had been like a second home to me.

Warden Grady looked at me grimly, and asked, “Have you heard of Jack the Ripper?”

TWO

Michael scoffed. “What does a human killer have to do with us?”

“The Ripper is not a human,” Grady replied. “He’s a demon.”

Cold dread washed over me at his words. “I hope you’re speaking metaphorically,” I said.

The warden shook his head. “I wish I were. We paid little attention to him when he was killing humans. As you said, a human murderer is none of our business. But eventually he tired of slaughtering humans and moved on to vampires. I can only assume it’s because we’re harder to kill.”

“Better sport,” Michael said grimly.

“Exactly,” Grady agreed. “The wardens have tracked him down on several occasions, but we’ve been unable to kill the bastard. We assumed that he was a vampire, but we once managed to stake him through the heart, and that only angered him. The last time we went up against him, the Chief Warden managed to take the Ripper’s head.”

“That certainly should have done it,” I said.

Supernatural creatures (vampires, werewolves, faeries) are susceptible to different things (sunlight, silver, cold iron), but beheading will kill anything. Correction: beheading should kill anything.

“That’s when we realized what we were up against. You see, at first we thought we were tracking a whole group of rogue vampires. It made sense because the human police have had such varying descriptions of the Ripper.” Grady paused, as if trying to collect his thoughts, and a faraway look crept into his eyes. When he continued, his voice was soft and gently laced with fear. “There were four of us that night. We had him surrounded and we all rushed him at once. Even so, I didn’t think we were going to be able to take him down. His strength was incredible. Then James got in a lucky blow and sliced the Ripper’s head right off his body. The body fell and … and an eerie blue light rose up out of it. The light, it rushed over James, surrounding him, and then it disappeared. We all stood still for several moments, unsure of what had just happened. And then James looked at us and his eyes were glowing red. He turned on us then. The only way I can describe it is that the Chief was no longer in control of his body. The demon was.”

“So the demon now inhabits the body of your Chief Warden?” I asked.

Grady shook his head. “We found James two weeks later, wandering the streets. Physically, he was unharmed, but he doesn’t remember anything that happened to him from the time he cut off the Ripper’s head until he woke in an alley in Whitechapel. I have no idea whose form the demon has taken now, but it seems to only be able to occupy dead bodies—those of humans who are already deceased, or vampires.”

I blew out a breath, trying to reconcile what I knew of demons with what the warden had just told us.

Finding a true demon is rare, Devlin had once told me. For one to exist in this reality, it has to take a shape that is natural to our world, he’d said. Demons find the human body too limiting. You could live five hundred years and never see one.

Wouldn’t that have been nice? I thought.

“Warden,” I said, “go back to your Regent and tell him that I will come to London, but I will not come alone, and I will not grant him the courtesy of an audience. In fact, considering that Michael swore to kill Sebastian if he ever saw him again, I think it might be a wise idea for you to keep him inside his townhouse while we’re in the city.”

“Thank you, Miss Craven,” Grady said, smiling. “You are our last hope.”

I smiled back, putting a great deal more confidence into the gesture than I felt. “We will find a way to slay this demon, but I give you fair warning—if I discover that Sebastian had anything to do with summoning it into our world, he will answer for it with his life.”

The warden nodded gravely. “I’ve seen firsthand what the Ripper has done to my vampires, Miss Craven. The young ones, they don’t turn to dust like the old ones do. I know what tortures they endured before he put them out of their misery. I’m sure the Regent wouldn’t do anything to bring harm to our vampires. But if evidence should come to light that he has any connection with this monster, I will gladly stand by your side against him.”

THREE

I hate winter. You’d think that, as a vampire, it would be my favorite season. After all, the days are shorter and the nights are longer, which is undeniably helpful if you’re a prisoner to the sun. To me, however, winter is such an ugly time of year. I would gladly trade shorter nights for leaves on the trees and flowers in bloom, for the smell of green grass under my bare feet. Looking out the carriage window at the streets of London—thick with the soupy gray sludge of dirty, melting snow—I longed for spring.

“What has you so pensive, mo ghraidh?” Michael asked, his Scottish accent barely discernible anymore, unless he was speaking Gaelic.

I turned my attention from the world outside to the man who sat next to me. Devlin was driving the carriage and Justine had elected to ride up top with him, so it was just Michael and me inside. Devlin didn’t care much for sea travel and, after being confined all day to his cabin on the ship, he was fairly itching for some fresh air. Our poor driver had been somewhat confused to be sent home in a hack.

“I was just thinking how long it’s been since we were last in London,” I replied. “Can it really have been three years ago this spring?”

“I believe it was,” he replied. “If I’d thought we would be so long between visits, I might have objected to you buying that house. Not that it would have done me any good.”

I smiled. “I don’t see any sense in all that money just lying about.”

“It isn’t lying about,” Michael groused. “It’s earning interest.”

“And plenty enough to allow me to keep one small house in London and still be a wealthy woman.”

Michael arched a brow at me and, the way the moonlight cast his cheekbones in sharp relief, he looked more like a devil than the archangel he was named for. “One small house in London, and a rather large house in Spain. Then there’s the villa in Italy, and the plantation in America.”

I ran my fingers lazily down his chest, toying with the buttons on his vest. “Are any of them likely to bankrupt me?” I asked.

He snorted, as if I’d asked a ridiculous question. Which I had. If there was one thing I didn’t worry about in this world, it was money. Michael, with his Scots frugality, was a genius with finances. Over the years, he had managed to multiply my substantial inheritance almost beyond imagining.

“Then don’t complain about the houses,” I said. “You know how much I dislike living out of hotels.”

He gave me a look. “Aye, every time we’re in one place longer than two weeks, I’m afraid you’ll buy an estate.”

“But, darling,” I purred, slowly popping the buttons of his vest open one by one. “Won’t it be nice to be in our own house and not some noisy hotel?”

He growled and pulled me onto his lap so that my legs were straddling him. “Only if Ginny’s got a fire blazing in the hearth and fresh sheets on the bed.”

“Sleepy?” I asked, calling up a little practical magic. With a thought and a flick of my wrist the curtains of the carriage snapped shut. Being a witch often has its advantages.

“Not remotely,” Michael replied, pushing my skirts up until his hands gained access to my bare thighs. “Why, you wicked girl. You’re not wearing any drawers.”

I bit my lip and smiled. “Are you shocked?”

“Scandalized,” he murmured, just before his fingers found me.

By the gods, I was hot and wet and so ready for him. Furiously I tried to calculate if we had time to finish what we’d started. Then all reasonable thought went out of my head as his hand snaked up to wrap around the back of my neck and pull my lips to his. His tongue entered my mouth as one long finger entered my body, and I arched against him, swaying with the rhythm of the carriage.

“Please, don’t stop,” I begged as he withdrew from me.

He ran his fingers gently over my womanhood, spreading the slick moisture across me.

“Such a greedy lass,” he whispered huskily. “Do you want more?”

I looked down at him, at the look of masculine triumph in his blue eyes. Michael was the sort of man who enjoyed foreplay. He often made a game of seeing how many times he could make me come before he joined me. I would have been happy to free the buttons on his trousers and take him right there, but I knew that watching me find my own release was almost as pleasurable to him as achieving his own.

“Yes,” I said on a ragged breath. “Give me more.”

He growled and plunged two fingers into me, stretching me. I quivered and threw back my head. His lips traced the tops of my breasts, his tongue running just under the edge of my bodice. My nipples tightened, wishing they were free to feel the heat of his mouth. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders, reveling in the feel of the deep, hard strokes of his fingers. I was almost there, so close … and then the carriage came to a halt in front of my townhouse.

With a sigh of regret, Michael stopped.

“No!” I cried, collapsing against him.

Stroking his fingers one last time across me, Michael modestly pulled down my skirts, put his hands around my waist, and gently set me on the seat next to him. When Devlin opened the carriage door, the muscles in my legs were shaking so violently, I wasn’t sure I could walk. I turned and looked at Michael.

“You’re such a tease,” I scolded.

“I never promise what I can’t deliver,” he assured me. “If you don’t spend all night talking to Ginny, we can go upstairs and finish this.”

I looked down the length of him, imagining that lithe but solidly muscled body naked beneath me.

“I’ll give her five minutes,” I said, “and then you’re mine.”

“Are you two coming?” Devlin asked impatiently from the sidewalk.

“Not at the moment,” I said with regret and great meaning. “But soon.”

FOUR

Ginny McCready was the eldest daughter of the manager of my island plantation off the coast of Savannah. Shortly after I’d bought the London house eight years ago, I’d received a letter from Ginny, then an unmarried woman of twenty-seven, expressing an interest in leaving Georgia and seeing more of the world. I’d immediately hired her to come to London and run the house in Mayfair and any other estates I might eventually purchase in England. Standing in the open doorway with her round, pink cheeks and her golden hair piled up in braids, she was a welcome sight.

The tall, lanky young footman who had brought our carriage to the docks rushed past her to tend the horses. He nodded respectfully to me as we passed and I glanced back, watching him eagerly take instructions from Devlin regarding our plans for the conveyance this evening. I shook my head. Skinny young men with red hair and freckled faces weren’t what the upper class traditionally looked for in a footman, which is probably why Ginny had hired him. She’d always had a soft spot for strays.

Ginny glanced up at the thick, gray storm clouds that hung low in the dark sky and pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders.

“Y’all had better get inside,” she called out, and then laughed. “I almost said ‘before you catch your death’!”

I chuckled. Ginny had known about vampires since she was eight years old, when Michael and I had bought the plantation where her family lived, on what the locals called Devil’s Island. I gave her a quick hug as she shooed us all inside and closed the door against the chill night.

Justine was humming softly as she removed her hat and gloves. She was tall, long-legged and gorgeous, with her silvery blonde hair done up in the latest style. She was also the closest thing I’d ever had to a sister. We’d lived, played, and fought by each other’s sides since I’d become a vampire.

As Ginny gathered up our cloaks, chattering away in her delightful southern accent, Justine reached out and tugged at the crooked neckline of my gown.

“Merde,” she muttered in her native French. “You two find yourselves alone in a carriage and the clothes, they come off.”

I cocked a brow at her. “Need I remind you of the last time Michael and I drove? I opened the carriage door to find you with your skirts up over your head and Devlin crouched—”

She slapped her hand over my mouth. “Point taken,” she said hastily, glancing at Ginny.

“Right in front of the Paris Opera, no less,” I whispered defiantly.

Justine glanced at Devlin with her coquette’s smile, and I knew she and I had very similar plans for our first evening in London.

“The men from the ship came this morning to tell me of your imminent arrival,” Ginny was saying. “They delivered your trunks, and everything is all unpacked in your rooms.”

“I’m sorry for showing up on such short notice, Ginny,” I said. “I hope you haven’t gone to any trouble.”

We had come in on the morning tide but naturally had not been able to leave the ship until dark. One of the benefits of sailing on the vampire-owned Blood Cross line was that there was no need to explain such behavior to the crew. The human sailors who manned the ships had worked for the line for generations, and could be depended upon to be helpful and discreet.

“Why, Cin,” Ginny scoffed, “it’s no trouble at all. You pay me very well to be ready for just such an occasion, though I must say it would be nice to see y’all more often. I went to the market and stocked up on your favorite whiskey. Also, champagne for mademoiselle,” she said with a nod to Justine. “The piano has been tuned, there are fresh paints for Michael in the studio upstairs, and all the correspondence that I had yet to forward to you is on your desk in the study.”

I shook my head. “Ginny McCready, you are a wonder. I wish I had five more just like you.”

“Well, you might get your wish soon enough,” Ginny said, barely able to contain the enormous smile that bloomed on her face. “I have a beau.”

“You do not!” I gasped.

I couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d hit me in the head. From the time I’d met her when she was eight years old, Ginny McCready had consistently and vociferously vowed never to marry.

“I most certainly do,” she assured me. “And he’s simply lovely.”

“I’m so happy for you,” I said. “You’ll have to tell me all about him.”

Michael cleared his throat. The only problem with Ginny was that she was a true southern belle. She was as much a master of the art of conversation as Michael was at the art of swordsmanship. And that is saying quite a lot. Often a simple exchange with her turned into a chat that lasted for hours. Ginny had never met a stranger—she could draw anyone, be they countess or chimney sweep, into a conversation—and often people found themselves telling her things they normally wouldn’t share. Perhaps it was her innocent, farm girl appearance, or perhaps it was that delectable southern accent, but Ginny had an uncanny ability to know absolutely every bit of scandal there was to know in London society. I’d often wondered if there was a patron goddess of gossip, and if Ginny McCready had erected an altar to her in her bedroom.

“Perhaps in a few hours, after we’ve all rested a bit,” I said, glancing back at Michael with a wink.

“Yes,” Devlin agreed, slipping his arm around Justine’s waist and pulling her back against his massive chest. “I think we could all use a bit of relaxation. The crossing was so choppy. I didn’t sleep a bit.”

I was fairly certain that the Channel wasn’t what had kept Devlin awake, but I didn’t say so.

“Well, that’s to be expected this time of year,” Ginny said. Suddenly her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, dear Lord! I entirely forgot about your guest!”

My eyes widened. “We have a guest?”

“Yes, I told him y’all weren’t here yet, but he said he’d wait. I put him in the parlor an hour ago. You vampires are so fiendishly quiet I forgot he was there.”

“Did he give you a name?” Michael asked.

Ginny bobbed her head. “Warden Grady.”

All four of us groaned. I think we were all looking forward to one evening of quiet to get settled before we started demon hunting.

“Well, we mustn’t keep the warden waiting,” I muttered.

“Would you like me to fetch y’all some tea?” Ginny asked.

Before I could answer, Michael said, “Miss McCready, I think you’d better break out the whiskey.”

My husband knew me so very well.

FIVE

As promised, Warden Grady was waiting patiently in my parlor. He had helped himself to a glass of cognac and was stretched out in one of the wing chairs in front of the fire.

“Warden,” I greeted him as we entered the room, “I trust we didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“Not at all,” he replied, rising swiftly to take my hand and execute a courtly bow. He then greeted Michael, Devlin, and Justine. As we all took a seat he continued, “I apologize for showing up on your doorstep before you’ve even had a chance to settle in, but I appreciate you coming so quickly. I just arrived back in town myself yesterday.”

Devlin leaned forward. “I take it there has been some new development,” he said, his gravelly voice sounding surly, even to me. “Or surely tomorrow night would have been soon enough to call.”

Grady looked at him nervously. Devlin was the oldest of us, the leader of The Righteous. That, coupled with the fact that he was nearly six and a half feet tall and built like a brick wall, was enough to inspire respect, and perhaps a bit of fear, in any sane vampire.

“Another vampire disappeared last night,” Grady said.

“Something must be done before the Ripper decimates the entire population of the city.”

“What Devlin is trying to say,” I explained gently, “is that since we’ve literally just walked in the door, I haven’t yet had the time I need to look through my spell books, which I keep in the library here.”

Grady looked disappointed, as if he had assumed that because I was a witch I should somehow instinctively know how to vanquish demons.

“But you do have something that will stop him?”

“I know that there is part of a spell in one of my books. I need to acquire the ingredients that fuel the magic, though. Ginny, is there still an apothecary shop on Panton Street called Little and Sons?”

Grady glanced at Ginny as she filled our glasses. “There is,” she replied hesitantly.

Ginny glanced around the room at everyone’s expectant looks, and leaned down to whisper, “As a matter of fact, you know how I said I have a new beau? His name is Warren Little and he happens to own that particular shop.”

She needn’t have whispered. With our keen vampire hearing, everyone in the room knew what she’d said.

I blinked up at her. “Oh. My. Well, that is fortuitous. We shall pay him a visit tonight and that will bring us one step closer to tracking down this monster.”

“And until we slay him, though,” Devlin said to the warden grimly, “keep your vampires off the streets. Tell them not to go out to feed unless they absolutely have to. And if the blood will come to them, so much the better.”

Grady nodded. “The Regent hasn’t left his mansion in weeks,” he replied. “The blood whores are brought in to feed the court.”

A blood whore was exactly what it sounded like, a human who sold his or her blood, and often their bodies as well, to vampires. It was a very lucrative and tightly regulated business, but blood whores were considered a delicacy, and only those in the upper echelons of vampire society were able to afford to drink from them on a regular basis. As a result, there were nowhere near enough blood whores in London to feed the entire vampire population. Unless we caught this bastard soon, the vamps would eventually have to go out to feed. And the Ripper would be there, waiting.

SIX

Our carriage pulled to a stop in front of the apothecary shop on Panton Street. Michael leapt from the box and opened the door with a flourish, interrupting Ginny’s discourse on the hiring of Will, my redheaded footman, and his young bride Amy, who was apparently my chambermaid. Thankfully, they had their own lodgings and did not live in my house. It would be hard enough to explain why all the windows were shuttered during the day without having them underfoot all night as well.

Ginny and I descended from the carriage. Devlin and Justine had stayed behind to look through the books that were in my library. I’m not an accomplished spellcaster—my magic tends to be a bit more active—but I have acquired quite an abundance of books on spellcraft and the arcane over the years.

As Ginny rang the bell, I paused in the shadow of the carriage. Pulling Michael’s head to mine, I kissed him quickly but thoroughly.

“What was that for, lass?” he asked.

“Just to remind you that I haven’t forgotten what’s been promised to me,” I said, trailing my fingers across his chest, then lower, smiling contentedly when the muscles of his stomach leapt to my touch.

The jingle of the shop’s bell drew my attention as Warren Little opened the door. A bachelor, he lived in the small apartment above his shop. It was apparent that he’d already settled in for the night. His dark hair was rather a mess and the buttons of his shirt were slightly askew, as if he’d dressed in a hurry.

“Miss Virginia!” he exclaimed, and then softer, “Ginny.”

I winked at Michael. “We’ll be back shortly,” I said, leaving him to mind the horses.

“Warren,” Ginny said, “this is my employer, Cin Craven.”

Warren looked startled, and why wouldn’t he be? Two women showing up on a bachelor’s doorstep in the middle of the night was highly improper, but time was of the essence. I couldn’t go out in the daylight and I knew what I was looking for. Coming to the shop tonight was the most efficient use of our time.

Warren finally regained his composure and bowed to me.

“Mrs. Craven,” he said, “won’t you both come in?”

I wasn’t prepared for the memories that assaulted me when I entered the shop. So much had changed in the world over the last century, but this shop was exactly the same. I closed my eyes and inhaled. It even smelled the same. I had played here when I was a little girl, my mother having also been a witch and a regular customer of this establishment. I knew there was a private room in the back of the store that sold anything a witch could want. I stared at the counter and the jar of peppermints that still sat there, the bright red and white candies beckoning me. Silently, I crossed the room and ran my fingers over the glass. Warren’s grandfather, Archie, had always given me one or two when Mother and I had come to shop. I looked up at the ceiling. Somewhere upstairs was the bedroom where I had woken the night I’d become a vampire. It was also the same room I’d sat in as I’d watched Archie Little take his last breath in this world.

“Is she all right?” Warren whispered to Ginny.

“She’s fine,” Ginny whispered back. Louder, she said, “Cin, may I introduce Mr. Warren Little?”

I reached up and brushed a tear from my cheek before turning back to them. Warren was the very image of his father and a more handsome version of his grandfather. He was a big man with dark hair and dark eyes. And, like his father and his grandfather before him, not the sort of man you’d expect to find behind the counter in an apothecary shop.

“Hello, Warren,” I said softly.

His eyes grew round and he backed up quickly, nearly upsetting a display of bath salts in the process. It occurred to me that, while I could see perfectly well outside at night, this was the first look he’d had of me in the light.

“I remember you,” he whispered.

I nodded. “I thought you might. You were just a boy the last time I was here. You were what? Ten years old?”

“I was eleven,” he said hollowly. “It was the night my grandfather died. You and a blonde woman came to see him.”

Warren walked slowly to me, staring as if he was seeing a ghost. His gaze flew over my face and the Craven Cross that hung from its gold chain around my neck. It was a large Celtic cross studded with rubies and diamonds, and not something that one would forget. When he was standing not a foot from me, he reached his hand out, but it wasn’t the cross he touched. It was the long lock of blood-red hair that fell over my shoulder. I stood very still as he ran his thumb and forefinger over that curl. Then he raised his dark eyes to mine.

“I’ll never forget the color of your hair. Grandfather used to tell us stories of vampires and demons, but I thought they were just tales meant to entertain a young boy,” he said.

I closed my eyes and pushed away my memories of Archie Little. One of the prices you pay for living forever is that the humans you love die all too quickly. I looked at Ginny, trying not to think of the day when I would lose her, too. It never gets easier, and yet I can’t seem to help but make those bonds.

“Mrs. Craven,” Warren said, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. “Why have you come?”

“I need some supplies for a spell, Warren,” I said. “I’m hoping that Little and Sons still sells the type of items I require?”

Warren smiled. “That we do. Just tell me what you need and I’ll be happy to get it for you.”

I felt slightly uncomfortable as I gave him a list of the ingredients I needed. This combination of herbs was innocent enough, but when I found the rest of the spell … well, what I intended to do with them was not exactly white magic. My mother definitely would not have approved. In fact, when I’d been a young witch, arrogant and unwilling to use any sort of magic that might be tainted with darkness, I had once balked at using this very binding spell. But many years ago I had been infected with black magic. It was a part of me and had been for almost as long as I’d been a vampire. I had made my peace with it and I was not so squeamish now about such things.

The front door burst open, causing the three of us to jump in surprise, and Michael rushed into the shop.

“Cin!” Michael yelled. “I saw him!”

“Who is that?” Warren asked as I rushed past him.

“Her husband,” I heard Ginny respond.

“Who?” I asked. “Who did you see?”

“The Ripper,” Michael replied.

“Jack the Ripper’s dead,” Warren announced. “Or so they say. There hasn’t been a Ripper murder in months.”

“That’s because he’s been killing vampires,” I informed him. “Michael, we don’t even know what he looks like now. How do you know it was him?”

“A man in a deerstalker hat stopped at the end of the block and stared at me for quite a long time,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I pointed out. People often stared at Michael, though usually it was women. He was just so damned beautiful. “It was undoubtedly just someone out for an evening stroll.”

“With glowing red eyes?” Michael asked smugly.

“Oh. Well, probably not.”

“Exactly,” he said, turning back to the door. “Let’s go.”

I rushed to catch up with him, grabbing his arm as he reached the door.

“And do what?” I asked. “Get ourselves killed? Let it go tonight, Michael. We’ll be much better prepared tomorrow.”

Michael glowered at me. I loved him more than anything in this world, but by the gods, he was hotheaded. He and Justine were like two peas in a pod that way and, more often than not, Devlin and I were the voices of reason that kept them alive.

“Cin?” Ginny called out, her voice thick with worry. “What’s happening?”

I turned back to her. “Absolutely nothing. Everything is fine.”

When I turned back around, Michael was striding out the door.

“Michael,” I yelled. “Michael, don’t!”

But he didn’t stop.

“Oh, bugger,” I cursed. I had no weapons other than my magic and I wasn’t dressed for fighting. I looked back at Warren and Ginny. “Warren, take her upstairs and don’t open that door until I come back. A vampire can enter this shop without an invitation, but not your apartment.”

He nodded to me and I gritted my teeth and strode from the shop. I paused as I closed the door, thinking about how the demon could take over any dead body it chose. Sticking my head back inside, I amended my order. “Actually, don’t come back down until morning.”

Both of their eyes grew wide at the implication, but I didn’t have time to worry about Ginny’s virtue. I rushed off after my husband, cursing with every step. The slushy snow was soaking into my cloak and the hem of my dress, and the dragging weight was an annoyance I did not need at the moment. Not to mention, my beautiful new slippers were undoubtedly ruined, and it was a good thing I wasn’t susceptible to frostbite. By the gods, I hate winter.

SEVEN

I caught up with Michael fairly quickly, which surprised me, considering he didn’t have sodden skirts and petticoats hampering his movement.

“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” I hissed as I came up alongside him.

Michael reached out and took my hand, his warm skin enveloping my cold fingers. Still, he didn’t take his eyes off the man walking down the sidewalk in the distance, and he didn’t slow his pace.

“Don’t worry,” he replied. “I’m not going to engage him. But it might be helpful to track him, don’t you think? He must call someplace home, and knowing his daytime resting place could undoubtedly be useful.”

I couldn’t argue with his logic. “All right,” I agreed. “We’ll follow him, but not for long. What if he waits until dawn to go home? I don’t fancy burning to ashes on the streets of London, thank you very much.”

“Let’s just see where he’s headed and then we’ll turn back. He’s not wandering, he’s walking with purpose. Wherever he’s going, it can’t be far or he would have taken a hack.”

I looked at the figure ahead of us. From the back he looked like any other well-dressed gentleman, but if Michael said his eyes had glowed red, I believed him. We trailed him for quite some time until he entered St. James’s Park. We were following at such a distance that by the time we entered the park, he had vanished into the shadows of the trees. Michael stopped, and I was grateful for it.

“Something isn’t right,” I said, a sense of unease gripping me.

“We’re not tracking him,” Michael said softly. “He’s baiting us.”

“Can we go back now?” I asked.

“Yes,” Michael replied. “And quickly.”

We turned to go, but it was too late. The Ripper was behind us, leaning negligently against one of the barren oaks, his features obscured by the shadows.

“How kind of you to come,” he said.

Michael opened his coat and pulled his sword. The Ripper smiled.

“I have one of those too,” he informed us, and his eyes flashed red as he drew his own blade. “This might be amusing.

I almost laughed. Demon or not, he was still limited by the confines of his human body. Or perhaps this body had once been a vampire. It didn’t matter. There was a reason they called Michael the Devil’s Archangel. He was merciless in battle and no one, except perhaps the High King of the Vampires, could match his skill with a blade. The Ripper would lose. But what then?

“Cin, run,” Michael said, as if he had already thought through the answer to my unspoken question.

“I won’t leave you,” I argued.

Almost painfully he grabbed my arm, never taking his eyes from the demon slowly advancing toward us. “I was a fool to allow you to come with me. If he takes your body, we’re all doomed.”

The Ripper paused and looked at me. Now that he was out from under the cover of the trees, I could see his face clearly. Whoever’s body he was wearing, the man had been handsome. Nothing out of the ordinary, but he had pleasant enough features, with thick brown hair and green eyes. It was his eyes that caught my attention. There was nothing behind them. Despite his words, there was no sense of anticipation to be found there. No excitement. No fear. Nothing. He cocked his head in my direction, and for the briefest moment I thought I saw curiosity in his eyes. His gaze raked over me in an impersonal, almost scientific, assessment of my worth, and then that eerie blankness fell back in place and he turned his attention back to Michael.

“Run,” Michael said again, “and don’t stop until you get home.” He shoved me away as the Ripper raised his sword and the battle began.

I stumbled backward, but I didn’t run. Michael was right, of course. Were the demon to invade my body and take control of my magic, nothing would stop him. I knew well the terrifying extent of my powers, the things that I could do, but would not. I should run. I was endangering hundreds, if not millions, of lives by staying. Yet I could not leave Michael.

What I did do was move to the far edge of the field, so that my continued presence wouldn’t distract Michael, and watch as they circled each other, blades clashing. Michael was by far the better swordsman, but the demon was so strong, stronger even than a vampire. Every time their swords collided I could see the force of it reverberate through Michael’s body. How long could he take that punishment before he ended it and took the Ripper’s head? And when that happened, would the Ripper take my husband’s body as he had taken the Chief Warden’s?

Frantically, I tried to think of some sort of magic that would incapacitate him long enough for us to get away, but not kill him outright. Without knowing whose body he was in, it was a dicey decision. Fire would kill a human slowly enough for us to run, but vampires were much more combustible. It was too risky. But perhaps I could freeze him, make him immobile just long enough for Michael and me to get to safety.

I made an effort to clear my head and concentrate on what I wished to accomplish. Calling up my magic, I let it build within me, like bringing a pot to boiling. I waited far longer than I normally did to set it free, hoping the magic would be that much stronger. When it felt as though I could no longer hold all that power within my own skin, I raised my hands and focused on the demon.

Freeze, I thought. Be still.

The Ripper stumbled and turned his head to me. Michael took advantage of that moment of distraction and shoved his sword into the demon’s chest. That got his attention. His sword came up, slicing at Michael’s head. Michael moved just quickly enough to avoid most of the arc, the tip of the blade slicing along one cheek. Michael didn’t flinch. He spun away from the sword and came up directly in front of the Ripper. Blocking the demon’s sword arm with his left hand, Michael pulled his sword from the Ripper’s chest and swiftly stepped out of range.

Meanwhile, I stood well back from the fray, completely dumbfounded. What had just happened? Other than my magic not working, obviously. It was inconceivable. The clash of steel once again broke the stillness of the night and I shook my head, unable to dwell on the matter any longer. Somehow he was immune to my magic, but I was certain the bastard wasn’t immune to fire.

Holding my hand out, I conjured a ball of fire a few inches above my palm. It was a frightening bit of magic and one that I’d only done a couple times. Fire is not a vampire’s friend, after all.

“Michael, get as far away from him as you can!” I shouted.

Having fought by my side for so many decades, Michael instinctively moved away from both the demon and the sound of my voice. It only takes getting in the crossfire of my magic and its intended target once to learn that lesson.

I pulled my hand out from under the ball of fire and, focusing on the Ripper’s dark form, I used my power to hurl it in his direction. Like a comet streaking through the night sky, it flew from me and hit the demon with enough force to knock him to the ground.

“Come on, Michael!” I called to him, holding out my hand. “Now!”

Without looking back, he ran to me. As I waited for him to cross the field I watched the demon burn. I’d seen vampires burn before. There was always thrashing and screaming, but the demon did neither. He lay there for a moment and then he slowly got to his feet. Like a straw man burned in effigy, he simply stood there, ablaze and unmoving. And then it happened.

Just as Grady had described, the demon broke loose from the body it had stolen. The creature that emerged from the burning corpse pulsed with an eerie blue light. It was essentially human in form, though its long limbs and body were shapeless and genderless. It had to find a new body, and quickly. It couldn’t survive in this realm without one. Its red eyes glowed like burning coals … and they were looking directly at me. Seeing the panic on my face, Michael turned to look behind him. He was between me and the demon, but it didn’t want him. It came directly at me.

With a roar of denial, Michael threw himself into the demon’s path. The two of them collided, and screaming, Michael sank to his hands and knees as the blue light absorbed into his body.

“Michael! No!” I shouted and ran forward.

Just as I reached him, he raised his head and looked at me. I skidded to a halt. His blue eyes were now demon-red.

“Michael?” I whispered.

He looked down at himself, at the sword he still held in his hand, then his gaze moved back to me. I stood, unable to move, as he came toward me with that graceful predator’s stride I knew so well. My head was telling me to run, that the demon now had control of my husband’s body, but my heart could not accept it.

“Witch,” Michael said. “He told me you would come.”

Before I could ask what he meant, the man I loved raised his sword and plunged it into my chest. I staggered back, falling to the ground. Gripping the sword, I blinked up at him in disbelief. He knelt before me, balancing on the balls of his feet.

“The sword does not hurt that much,” he said, as if he were impartially observing the outcome of some experiment. “Yet there is such pain in your eyes. How interesting.”

Whatever reply I might have come up with was forestalled by the sound of running footsteps. Michael, or rather the demon who now occupied his body, and I turned to see Warren Little dashing across the field toward us.

“Warren,” I gasped, pain radiating through my chest, as he came to kneel by my side. “Get out of here.”

“Mrs. Craven,” he said aghast, ignoring me. “You’ve been stabbed.” Turning to Michael he snapped, “What have you done?”

The demon stood and I looked up at him. His eyes were now Michael’s own blue but briefly they flashed red in anger. Actually, I wasn’t sure if he could even register such an emotion as anger or annoyance, or if he’d done it just because he could. Whatever the case, it had the desired effect. Warren finally understood that something had gone terribly wrong.

“I’ve grown weary of killing humans,” the demon said. “But I will make an exception for you.”

Warren, with a presence of mind that both impressed and astounded me, grabbed the Craven Cross and jerked it off my neck. Brandishing it before him, he placed himself between me and the demon.

“Be gone, demon!” he shouted.

Michael hissed and staggered backward. I wasn’t sure if it was the vampire or the demon that objected to the cross. A cross, or just about any religious object, will repel a vampire if it’s wielded by a true believer and the vampire means the human harm. I wasn’t certain about demons, but it seemed likely such methods would work on them as well. Otherwise, what was the point of exorcisms?

“I will have you, witch,” the demon said. “But first I must fulfill the terms of my bargain. I promised him I would bring you unimaginable pain.” He held out his arms and glanced down at his body before smiling at me. “I think this will do.”

Tears sprang to my eyes as I watched him turn and walk away. Warren was talking to me, but I didn’t hear what he was saying. The demon stopped at the smoldering corpse and kicked it, rolling it over and over until the flames were extinguished. He reached down into what was once the man’s chest and gingerly pulled out a gold chain. A round pendant with some sort of stone set in its center hung from the chain, glittering in the moonlight. Slipping the artifact into his pocket, he calmly disappeared into the shadows.

“Cin!” Warren said snapping my attention back to him. “We followed you in your carriage. We waited, thinking you might need a ride home.”

I blinked at him barely understanding his words. “Pull the sword out, Warren,” I said numbly. “And help me home.”

EIGHT

My cloak managed to hide the gaping hole and the blood stains on my dress as I walked into the house on Upper Brook Street. Ginny followed behind me, and Warren had graciously offered to see to the carriage and the horses, since we’d sent Will the footman home hours ago. Devlin and Justine emerged from one of the parlors, and it occurred to me then, for the first time, that I would have to tell them what had happened.

Devlin inhaled sharply, his vampire senses easily detecting the scent of blood. His gaze roamed over my face and then dropped to my hands. I tried to hide the red stains in the folds of my cloak, but Devlin crossed the room and took my hands in his.

“Cin,” he said softly. “Where is Michael?”

I looked up into his dark eyes and I realized I didn’t have to be strong anymore. I’d had to hold myself together in front of the demon, and then with Warren and Ginny so that they could remove the sword and get me home. But now that I was here with Devlin and Justine … the tears started falling and, with a wrenching sob, my knees buckled. I would have hit the floor if Devlin hadn’t caught me and swung me into his arms.

I’d lost him. Michael had thrown himself in front of a demon, knowing it would take over his body, in order to save me. And I had been powerless to stop it. I clutched Devlin’s shirt in my fists and cried so hard I thought I might break. I should have run when he’d told me to.

“Mon amour,” I heard Justine say, “take her up to her room. I will clean her up, but you must find blood for her.”

Cradled against Devlin’s massive chest, I felt like a child being carried to bed by her father. He set me down on the mattress and then vanished as Justine and Ginny fussed over me. I let them do as they willed, the whole time thinking over and over of what I could have done differently to save him.

My cloak came off first, followed by my gown and underthings. In a daze I stood, I sat, I lifted my arms when they told me to, but I wasn’t really there. My body was in the house, but my mind was still out on that field. Justine cleaned the blood off my face, hands, and chest before sliding my nightgown on over my head. Sitting down beside me, she grasped my shoulders and gave me a little shake. Woodenly, I turned to her.

“Cin, chérie, tell me what happened,” she said.

I shook my head, the words coming out in a broken whisper I barely recognized. “He saw the Ripper. I told him not to follow him, but he wouldn’t listen. It was a trap. My magic didn’t work against him. I panicked. I set the demon on fire. I thought we’d have enough time to get away, but we didn’t. Michael … forced the demon to take him instead of me.”

“How did you get wounded?” she asked.

I looked up into her brilliant blue eyes. “Michael did it,” I said.

“You mean the Ripper?”

“Yes,” I answered, forcing myself to remember that. “And please don’t call him the Ripper anymore, not when he’s wearing Michael’s body.”

“Of course, chérie,” she whispered. “What did he say to you?”

“That he knew I’d come. That he wanted to hurt me,” I replied.

Remembering Michael’s face, his voice saying those things to me, made the tears start again.

“Justine,” Devlin said softly from the doorway. “Leave her be for now. Let her rest. I’ll go find someone to feed her. Fresh blood will help the wound heal.”

“She can take my blood,” Ginny said.

I shook my head. I’d almost forgotten she was there. She sat down next to me and pushed my hair back over my shoulder.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I remember my mother feeding you once when you needed blood. I’m not afraid.”

She held her wrist out to me and I looked up at her, too weak and weary to argue. She nodded to me.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Take it.”

My eyes locked on hers and it took every bit of energy I had left to bespell her so that she wouldn’t feel the pain. When I knew she was under, I raised her wrist to my lips and bit. Her sweet, coppery blood washed down my throat and the pain in my chest lessened as it filled me. Before I was ready to stop, Justine intervened and pulled Ginny’s wrist from my mouth.

“That’s enough for now,” she said and ushered Ginny toward Devlin. He put one arm around her and guided her from the room.

As Justine tucked me into bed, I grabbed her hand.

“Will you stay with me?” I asked. “Just for a little while.”

“Of course, mon amie,” she replied.

She walked around the bed and pulled back the covers. I turned on my side and she slid her body against mine, wrapping her arms around me.

“Do not fret,” she whispered. “We will get him back.”

Softly, she sang to me until I fell asleep. Thankfully, I didn’t dream.

NINE

I slept until noon, when the chiming of a clock somewhere in the house woke me. Rolling over, I expected to see Michael’s pale, perfect body stretched out beside me. But the bed was empty, and my heart clenched in pain as I remembered why. We will get him back, Justine had said. Yes, by the gods, we would.

I threw back the covers and stalked from the room. Vaguely, I remembered the books Devlin and Justine had gathered together in the library last night. I carried them into the parlor and shut the door behind me. The room was cold and dark, all the windows in the house having been shuttered and the curtains drawn so that we could move about freely in the daytime. There were logs in the fireplace, though, and I held my hand out toward them. A moment later a fire erupted, roaring nicely in the grate and allowing enough light and warmth for me to spread the books out on the rug in front of it.

For hours I flipped through page after page until, in the last book, I found what I was looking for. “Binding” the script at the top of the page read. And the rest of it looked like a blurry watercolor. Most of these books had traveled with me for many years before I’d bought this house and, at some point in all that time, this grimoire had sustained significant water damage. I remembered the invocation and part of the herbs needed, but the rest of it was lost.

“Damn it!” I cursed, snapping the book closed and hurling it against the wall.

“Cin?” Justine asked, sticking her head in the door. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” I said with a sigh.

Dressed in a soft pink morning gown, with her long blonde hair pulled back in a neat chignon, Justine looked lovely. I felt rather bedraggled sitting there on the floor in my nightgown, with my hair uncombed. She picked up the book I had tossed, closed it, and handed it back to me before sitting down in one of the chairs flanking the fireplace.

“I take it the news is not good?” she asked.

I shook my head. “The writing is too obscured by water damage. I can’t make anything out.”

“So we have nothing?” she asked.

“No, we have part of the spell which is basically useless without knowing what the other half of the ingredients are.”

“Hmm,” Justine murmured and sat back in her chair. I watched her face and could almost see the ideas running through her head. “You don’t usually use spells and potions.”

“No,” I agreed. “My magic bends to my will.”

“Then why must you use this spell to bind the demon?”

I blinked at her. “Because I don’t believe my magic is strong enough.”

“Perhaps it is worth a try,” she suggested. “You say this spell is gray magic. Is that not what you have? Both the light and the darkness inside you?”

I thought about it for a moment. Could I do it? Bind a demon with nothing more than the magic I could call? As I was considering this, Devlin and Ginny entered the room. Justine explained our progress to them and they all waited while I thought through the obstacles and implications of what Justine had suggested. Finally I nodded.

“I think I could do it. For Michael, I will be strong enough to do it. But as I see it, we have three problems.”

Devlin arched one dark brow. “Only three?”

I continued on, ignoring his sarcasm. “The least of our problems is figuring out a way to get the demon to vacate Michael’s body without physically harming … well … Michael’s body. I think I have an idea, but none of you are going to like it, and I haven’t exactly worked out all the details, so for now I’m going to keep that to myself. The second problem is what to do with the demon after we get him out of Michael’s body. The Ripper is not going to make it easy. Once he leaves Michael’s body, I’m going to have to force him into some other vessel that he can’t escape from, before he can infect a new body.”

“Or you,” Justine pointed out.

I nodded. “Or me.”

We all fell silent, thinking.

“Oh!” Ginny exclaimed, making me jump. She pointed to the bookshelves that lined the wall next to the fireplace. “Will that work?”

I followed the direction of her finger and if my heart had been beating it surely would have stopped at what I saw.

“Ginny,” I said slowly, “Is that what I think it is?”

“After y’all left Devil’s Island, I kept it in my room as sort of a keepsake to remind me of … everything. When I came to London I brought it with me. I thought it should be here.”

Sitting there on the shelf (serving as a bookend no less!) was a large Grecian urn. I rose to my feet and slowly walked over to it. Reaching out I traced my fingers over the lid and down the sides, making sure it was still intact. And why wouldn’t it be? It was said to have been forged by Hephaestus himself.

I turned back to my friends and smiled. “An unbreakable jar that once held a god of war trapped for millennia. That will do.”

“Before we get ahead of ourselves,” Devlin said, always the voice of reason, “what is the third problem?”

My excitement waned. “The demon is apparently immune to my magic.”

“How can that be?” Devlin asked, stunned.

“I have no idea,” I replied. “But I’ll think it through today and maybe something will come to me. The minute the sun sets, though, we need to find Grady. Until I can figure out why my magic won’t work and how to remedy the problem, we can’t fight this demon. In the meantime, I want to make it very clear to Grady that no one is to harm the Ripper while he’s in my husband’s body.”

TEN

As twilight settled over London, I went from room to room in the house, checking the locks on all the windows and doors. If the demon decided to pay us a visit, I wanted to be sure he had to break down something solid to get in. At least we would have that as a warning. Ginny had flatly refused to leave the house at night, even though I had offered to put her up in a fine hotel, or turn a blind eye if she wished to stay with Warren. She was certain that I might need her, though, as I had the night before. Since I had taken her blood, I could use vampire magic to bend her to my will, but I wouldn’t do it. Instead I had sent the footman to Warren’s shop with a request that he come talk some sense into her as soon as he closed for the day.

That task had taken all of five minutes and the previous argument with Ginny had been short-lived. The other hours of daylight I’d spent poring over every book I owned, trying to stay busy so that I wouldn’t go mad with worry. Amy, the housemaid, had come in several times to ask if I needed anything. I had politely declined both lunch and tea, refilling my whiskey glass at a rate that would have been alarming in a human. None of it had kept my mind from wandering to Michael, though. To what the demon might be doing, at this very moment, in his body. For the thousandth time since I’d woken alone in our bed, I pushed the thought aside.

Entering my bedroom, I pulled my coat from the wardrobe and tossed it on the bed. Tonight I wouldn’t be tramping through the slush in skirts and slippers. This time I would be ready for whatever came my way. I was wearing black leather breeches tucked into a pair of thigh-high boots. A black leather vest topped the ensemble. I rarely wore the vest alone, with no shirt underneath. A full-sleeved shirt helped to hide the knives strapped to my forearms, but tonight I would do without it. I wanted to look as dangerous as possible.

I slid Michael’s claymore into the scabbard at my hip, feeling closer to him because I was wearing his blade. It wasn’t the great claymore that he called Ophelia, but one he’d had made as a scaled-down version of his favorite weapon. Wearing a sword in public will get you arrested in most places, and it’s difficult to conceal a blade nearly four and a half feet long. The sword he carried now looked like the claymore but was substantially smaller and easier to hide under a cloak or long coat. Ignoring the fact that the last time I’d seen Michael he’d shoved this blade into my heart, I opened the trunk that held our weapons and pulled out a long, flat box.

As a rule, vampires, especially the older ones, don’t like guns. They seem to view them as cheating. If you can’t win a fight by your own physical strength and skill with a sword, then you deserve to lose. However, last year I’d won a Smith & Wesson .38 from an American in a game of poker and, as it turns out, I’m an excellent shot. Of course, it’s nearly impossible to kill a vampire with a bullet, but it will get their attention. Sometimes that’s all you need. I loaded the gun, tucked it into the waistband of my breeches at the small of my back, and shrugged into my coat.

Michael called this my general’s coat. It was long and black with burgundy silk braiding that decorated the turned-back cuffs and ran along the edge of its stand-up collar. A smart row of oriental frog buttons in the same burgundy silk marched from the collar to just above my waist. The rest of the coat was open, allowing me swift access to the weapon at my hip or the knives strapped to my thighs, hidden by my tall boots. The coat belled out just enough to hide the fact that I was a woman wearing very scandalous and masculine attire. That is, if you didn’t look too closely.

As I reached the top buttons I touched my bare neck, wondering if Warren still had my cross necklace or if he’d dropped it in the park. It seemed a trifling thing to worry about, considering everything else that had happened. Still, it was one more thing that I’d had yesterday that I didn’t have today.

As I was tying my hair back at my nape with a thick black satin ribbon, I heard Devlin and Justine leave their room, murmuring to each other as they walked down the hall. I closed my eyes and imagined Michael standing behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, his lips kissing my neck. It was what he always did before we went out. This evening I wrapped my arms around myself instead.

“I will get you back,” I said to the empty room. “I swear I will.”

Warren had just arrived, and in fact was still standing in the foyer arguing with Ginny, when I came downstairs. He looked up at me and his mouth fell open. While I was walking down the stairs the coat did little to hide my boots, breeches, or the sword I was wearing, but I was certain that my clothing wasn’t entirely responsible for the expression on his face. Ginny, however, conspicuously cleared her throat and Warren swiftly regained his composure.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “Last night I saw you with a sword sticking out of your chest and now you look completely healed.”

I shrugged. “Already being dead sometimes has its advantages.”

“I suppose so,” he murmured.

“Have you had any luck talking this hardheaded girl into leaving the house for the night?” I asked.

Ginny glared at me, but I ignored her.

“I’m afraid not,” he said, holding up a large canvas sack. “But I brought crosses. I’ll stay with her until you return.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and I tried not to laugh, for he was so earnest.

“If I don’t check the pot boiling on the stove,” Ginny said, “I’m liable to burn the whole house down, and then we won’t have to worry about it. Warren, make yourself at home in the parlor. I’ll return shortly when supper is ready.” She turned to me. “And you be careful with yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said in my best imitation of her southern drawl.

As Ginny headed toward the kitchen I leaned over and whispered to Warren. “Of course, you realize that this means you’re going to have to marry that girl, don’t you?”

He smiled. “Oh yes,” he said happily. “But she hasn’t realized that yet.”

Hearing my voice, Devlin and Justine emerged from the parlor and the three of us headed for the door.

“Mrs. Craven!” Warren called out. “I almost forgot.”

I turned to see him reach into his coat pocket and pull out my necklace.

“I sent it to a friend of mine who’s a jeweler this morning and had the clasp fixed for you. It’s good as new now.”

Seeing him pull the chain and pendant from his pocket triggered a memory from the previous night. The demon had taken something off the dead body, hadn’t he? I had been in so much shock, I’d entirely forgotten about it until this moment.

“Warren,” I said, “did you see Michael take a gold amulet on a chain from the dead body last night? Or was that a hallucination?”

Warren thought for a moment. “No, I remember. I couldn’t see it clearly, but he did remove something from the body that shined in the moonlight. It could have been an amulet.”

That was why my magic hadn’t worked. I closed my eyes as I felt the anger rise inside me. The Ripper had a charm to protect him against magic. The last time I’d seen such a thing, I’d taken it off Sebastian’s neck.

“Damn that man to everlasting hell!” I shrieked.

“You don’t believe in hell,” Justine said dryly.

I glared at her. “That’s hardly the point.”

Living in such close quarters for so many years, it was easy to pick up each other’s phrases. It also meant that we knew each other well enough that when I turned and strode purposefully to the front door, they followed me without question. I jerked the door open just as Warden Grady raised his hand to knock. His eyes widened in surprise. Then he caught sight of the look on my face and took a hasty step back.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” I said, reaching out and grabbing him by the collar of his coat.

“What’s going on?” he asked as I dragged him back to his carriage.

“You’re going to take me to see the Regent,” I replied as I opened the carriage door.

Grady stopped and shrugged one shoulder, dislodging my grip on his coat.

“Wait just a minute now,” he said indignantly. “I’m not taking you anywhere until I know what’s happening. You said very specifically in Paris that you had absolutely no wish to see the Regent.”

I felt Devlin’s looming presence at my back. “The lady’s changed her mind, mate,” he said in that low, gravelly voice that could, on occasions such as this, be utterly terrifying. “Get in the carriage.”

For a moment, I thought Grady might challenge him, but wisely he gave in and nodded to the driver.

“Take us to the Regent’s estate,” he said, and we all climbed in.

The carriage lurched forward and we rode in silence until Justine leaned over and said softly, “I trust your judgment, Cin, but you are going to tell us at some point, are you not?”

I glanced sideways at her and then looked across the carriage at Devlin and Grady, who were regarding me expectantly.

“I have the answer to problem number three,” I said. “My magic didn’t work against the Ripper because he was wearing a talisman to protect him. A gold disc with what I’m sure we will find to be a ruby stone set in its center.”

Looks of comprehension dawned on Devlin and Justine, but Grady was at a loss.

“I still don’t understand,” he said, glancing at each of us in turn. “You saw the Ripper? Do you have this talisman? And where is Michael?”

“Do not,” Justine said, putting her hand up, “go any further with that line of questioning.”

For a few moments Grady looked even more confused, but when the expressions of disbelief and sympathy crossed his face, I knew he’d finally figured out what had happened. I was thankful for that because I truly didn’t want to have to say those words again.

“We have to figure out a way to get that amulet out of his possession,” I said.

“If we do that,” Grady asked, “then what?”

“Then I end this,” I replied.

Relief washed over him. “If that’s our objective, then why are we going to see the Regent?” he asked.

“Because Sebastian is responsible for this,” I said. “I’ve known it in my heart from the beginning.”

“You believe this because of the amulet?”

“First of all, that demon is in possession of a talisman that once belonged to Sebastian. Secondly, the Ripper said, and I quote, ‘Witch. He said you would come.’ ”

“Everyone knew you were coming,” Grady argued. “Any vampire he crossed paths with could have told him that.”

“Cin,” Devlin interrupted, “the warden does have a point. Perhaps we should allow you to cool down a bit before we proceed with this.”

“I won’t kill Sebastian. Not yet,” I said flatly. “But I know what he’s done. And he knows what he’s done.” I turned back to them and let them see the determination on my face. “And whether any of you like it or not, he and I are going to have a reckoning.”

Devlin’s eyes locked with mine, and we stared at each other for a long time. Finally, he nodded. “All right.”

ELEVEN

When the Ripper had started killing vampires, Sebastian and his court had moved from their London townhouse to a small estate just outside the city. The carriage ride was reasonably short, but infinitely longer than I would have liked. When we arrived, the drive to the manor house was lined with carriages, making it appear as though a society ball was in progress. I looked questioningly at Grady.

“It’s the blood whores, come to feed the court,” he said in response to my silent inquiry.

I opened the window and leaned out, counting the carriages between ours and the front door. There had to be at least ten. Flinging open the door, I bounded out and began to walk. I passed carriage after carriage filled with giggling girls and handsome young men, eager for the money and the pleasures that awaited them.

Two vampires, almost as tall and broad as Devlin, attempted to stop me at the door. Before I could even voice an objection, one of them noticed Grady, who had followed swiftly at my heels with Devlin and Justine.

“Good evening, Warden,” the vampire said respectfully.

“Good evening to you, Ben. These are my guests,” Grady announced.

“Of course, sir,” Ben replied and opened the doors.

I entered a house filled with more vampires and humans than one generally saw together. There were people lounging about in every open room, but the blood whores who had arrived before me were being escorted up the grand staircase, so I followed them. Wherever the blood was going, that’s where I would find Sebastian.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Grady hissed in my ear. “If all of this ends badly it will be my head, quite literally, that rolls for it.”

I paused at the top of the stairs and turned to him. “And if it goes as I plan, you could end up as Regent.”

I smiled at his shocked expression and proceeded through the doors of the second-floor ballroom. I had expected a pit of debauchery, but that’s not what I found. There was an orchestra playing, and people were laughing and dancing, like so many balls I had gone to in my youth, when I was human. I don’t know why I was surprised. Sebastian was a son of the aristocracy. Here, he would be in his element.

“Your name, miss?” a well-dressed man at my elbow asked.

For a moment I stared at him, not comprehending why he was asking. Then I realized that he was one of the Regent’s servants and it was his duty to announce the arrivals. Good lord, had it really been that many years since I’d been to a proper ball?

Then again, as I looked out over the crowd I realized that it wasn’t an exact imitation of a society ball. The dresses were quite risqué, and there didn’t seem to be a gentleman in the room who hadn’t lost several buttons on his shirt. The humans were easy to identify by the smudges of dried blood at their necks, or breasts, or wrists. It was like some sort of macabre Cyprians’ ball. I turned to the gentleman waiting for my name and almost laughed at the incongruity of it all. It was exactly the sort of thing I would expect of Sebastian.

“Cin Craven,” I finally replied.

He nodded, and turned to make the announcement.

“Cin Craven,” his voice rang out.

A hush fell over the ballroom as all eyes turned to me. Slowly and disjointedly, the orchestra ground to a halt. I took a step into the room as the servant called out Devlin and Justine’s names, and the throng of vampires and humans parted like the Red Sea. In a few brief moments I found myself standing not fifty feet from the man responsible for taking my lover from me.

Sebastian sat on a raised dais surrounded by a group of women. Though he had probably begun the evening impeccably dressed, his coat had been discarded and his vest and shirt were open to the waist. He looked much as he had the last time I’d seen him, though his curly black hair was longer, and he now sported a neatly trimmed beard. The beard detracted somewhat from his handsome, aristocratic features, but it lent him a slightly dangerous look. His brown eyes glittered when he saw me and he sat up straighter, watching me expectantly.

Four of Sebastian’s lieutenants stepped up on the dais, forming a semicircle around his throne-like chair. The women instinctively retreated, all save one. My eyes flicked over the men, dismissing them each in turn. They were bodyguards or lackeys, nothing more. It was the woman who intrigued me.

She was a vampire, and her position at his right hand declared her to be someone of importance, though I didn’t understand why. She had long, dark-blonde hair that hung in a messy tangle of curls down her back. Her face was so thickly painted with cosmetics that it almost looked like a mask. Never taking his eyes off me, Sebastian motioned to her and she leaned down as he whispered something. Glancing up at me, she pushed her mass of unkempt hair from her small, dark eyes. There was something in that look—excitement, perhaps—that I didn’t like.

She had been a lot older than most when she’d been turned. Her human years showed in the lines around her eyes and the creases at the corners of her wide, full lips. I wondered what value she had to Sebastian. I didn’t believe she was his consort. The Sebastian I knew was entirely too vain to tie himself to someone who looked like nothing more than a cheap prostitute.

At that moment, though, all thoughts of her fled as Sebastian’s gaze flicked over me, then Devlin, then Justine. With the three of us together, Michael’s absence was glaringly obvious. And Sebastian smiled victoriously. He knew … and my temper snapped. I crossed the expanse of the ballroom with a menacing stride, my eyes locked on Sebastian’s. As I reached the bottom step of the dais, the sliding metal sound of a sword being unsheathed snapped my attention to one of Sebastian’s lieutenants. I paused.

“Cin, how nice to see you again,” Sebastian said, his voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. “You are even more beautiful than I remembered.”

I glared at him. “And you’re still an evil son of a bitch.”

The lieutenant with the sword took a step forward, but Devlin and Justine pulled their own blades and flanked me.

“You might want to watch your tone,” Sebastian replied smugly. “Jonas has sworn his fealty to me and he is quite the best swordsman in the country.”

Devlin snorted in derision.

Sebastian glanced at him and then inclined his head to me. “With the exception of your husband, of course,” he said in a gracious tone. “But he doesn’t seem to be here, does he?”

Justine growled and started toward the dais, but I reached out and grabbed her sword arm, stopping her. I didn’t want this to degenerate into a brawl. Jonas moved to stand between Sebastian and me, his sword at the ready.

“My Regent has done nothing to warrant retribution by The Righteous,” Jonas said loudly, so that all the court could hear. “Unless you come bearing proof, you have no grounds on which to offer him violence.” His gaze flicked over Justine and me dismissively, perhaps because we were women, and settled on Devlin. “And if you intend him harm, you’re going to have to come through me.”

Devlin laughed. “Step up then, boy, if you think you can take me.”

Jonas was a well-built young man with auburn hair and eager green eyes. Whether or not he could back up Sebastian’s boast, he certainly looked prepared to try. Proving him wrong would take time I didn’t want to waste. I reached inside my coat and the other three lieutenants drew their swords, assuming that I was going for mine. Instead, I pulled the Smith & Wesson from the waistband of my breeches and in one smooth motion leveled it at Jonas and put a bullet through his heart.

He dropped like a stone, clutching his chest and screaming. Sebastian rose belligerently to his feet, his harlot shrank back against the wall, and his lieutenants stood dumbfounded just long enough for Devlin and Justine to advance on them and push them back. I leapt onto the dais, landing just in front of Sebastian and forcing him to fall backward into his chair. Bracing my hands on the arms of the throne, I leaned over until my face was mere inches from his.

“I am not the inexperienced girl I was when we last met, Sebastian,” I said softly, menacingly. “You have no idea the power I have. The stories you’ve heard about me—they’re all true. I could kill you with a thought. And when I do come for you, no one will be able to stop me.”

Sebastian glanced down at where Jonas was still lying on the floor, writhing and moaning. He’d live, but it would hurt like hell for a long time.

Louder, so that the court could hear me, I said, “I know what you’ve done, Sebastian.”

“You can’t prove anything,” he said, and there was fear in his voice.

I cocked my head to one side. “Now, see, an innocent man would ask what I was accusing him of. But you know, don’t you? You conspired with some witch or wizard to summon a demon to kill me. Or perhaps it’s still my power you want. Whatever your intentions were, Sebastian, I don’t believe even you would turn something like that loose on your own people. You’ve lost control of it and now it’s slaughtering your vampires. And it’s infected my husband. I will stop it and I will get the proof I need to satisfy the High King’s law. And when I do, I’ll be back … and you’ll pay for what you’ve done with your life.”

“There was a time when I wanted you,” he whispered. “But now I just want you to suffer.”

“Your wants haven’t interested me in nearly a hundred years, Sebastian,” I said simply, and with one last, contemptuous look, I turned and strode back through the ballroom.

Hushed whispers from the court followed me and I smiled. Whether or not I could prove Sebastian’s guilt, I had just placed the seeds of doubt in the heads of his vampires. He’d be lucky if he lived long enough for me to kill him.

When I reached the doors to the ballroom I glanced back, one last time. Sebastian was whispering furiously into the blonde woman’s ear, and from the way she was nodding in response it appeared that he was giving her orders. He was a cunning bastard, I’d give him that. I was certain he enjoyed being Regent, and he couldn’t afford for there to be any proof of his direct involvement in this. No, he would have gone through intermediaries. And I was practically positive that his harlot would lead me straight to the demon.

Grady was waiting by the door and I pulled him aside.

“The woman with Sebastian,” I said. “Who is she?”

He glanced across the room. “Barbara? She’s a ruthless bitch, one of the Regent’s lackeys.”

I nodded, thinking. She’s the one who does the things he won’t sully his hands to do.

“I need something that belongs to her. A piece of jewelry would work best, something personal. Can you get it for me?”

Grady nodded. “I think so.”

“Good. We’ll meet you at the end of the drive.”

He disappeared into the crowd just as Justine reached my side. She linked her arm with mine as we descended the stairs.

“You should have let us fight them, mon amie,” she complained. Much like Michael, she loved a good brawl.

I shrugged. “It was beneath us. Besides, we have a much bigger fight ahead of us.”

TWELVE

When we returned to the house on Upper Brook Street, Ginny met us at the door, her face ashen. Warren stood behind her, looking grim.

“He was here,” Ginny said.

I grasped her by the shoulders. “Michael? Are you hurt? What happened?”

She shook her head. “No, we’re both fine. I never even saw him but … well, you’d better come look.”

We followed her up the stairs to the door of my bedroom. She paused with her hand on the knob.

“After dinner we went through the house, just like you said to, and checked the doors and windows again. When I looked in your room, the window was open. And—”

She swung the door open. The window was closed now and all of my things were just as I’d left them. The writing on the wall, however, was new. Painted in blood above my bed were the words “I love thee not, chaos is come again.” It was part of a line from Shakespeare. And it was in Michael’s handwriting.

“What does it mean?” Ginny asked.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I said numbly.

“It must mean something,” Grady said. “Else why would he have done it?”

Just to torment me, I thought, imagining the man I loved writing such words to me.

“It’s from Othello,” Devlin added, saying what I already knew.

Justine walked into the room and ran one finger over the letters. The blood was still fresh enough to come away on her skin.

“It’s human,” she said.

“Didn’t Othello kill his wife?” Warren asked softly from the doorway.

Everyone fell silent, uncomfortably waiting for my response.

“Ginny,” I finally said, “could you please clean that up as best you can? If it’s stained the wall, Devlin and Justine can rearrange the furniture for you. Put the wardrobe over it. I don’t want Michael to see it when I bring him home.”

I turned to go, but Devlin caught my arm. “Where are you off to?” he asked, his dark eyes filled with concern.

I held up the silver ring that Grady had stolen from Barbara’s room. “I’m going to the library to cast a location spell.”

He looked at me like he didn’t believe me, but he let me go. In a daze I walked down the stairs and entered the library. Shutting the door behind me, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. All I could see was Michael scrawling those words above our bed. I love thee not. I love thee not. I love thee not.

“Stop it,” I said to myself. “It’s not Michael. It’s the demon. Michael loves me. He always has and he always will. I am the other half of his soul and he is the other half of mine.”

It was something he said to me often. I had to remember that.

Crossing the room, I cleared the scattered books off the big table and retrieved a map of London from the bookshelf. I unrolled it and used four silver candlesticks to hold down the corners. The map was old, but it would do. I didn’t even bother to take my coat off. This shouldn’t take long.

I placed the ring on its side at the edge of the map, and then I laid my palms flat on the oak table and took a deep breath. Spellcasting wasn’t easy for me, but location spells were fairly simple. Clearing my head as well as I was able, I thought of what I wanted. The ring would tell me where Barbara was. If Sebastian had anything to do with summoning this demon, she was part of it too. I centered myself and called up my magic.

“Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, that I won’t find where you abide,” I called out.

The ring began to move, rolling across the map to the north. It stopped just inside the city but it didn’t fall, which meant that she was still moving. I pulled up a chair and waited. After what seemed like hours, the ring finally tipped on its side and lay still, coming to rest on the other side of Whitechapel, near Shadwell. That made sense in regard to the human murders. He would want to hunt in an area near his base, yet not in his own backyard.

I slipped the ring into my pocket and exited the library just as Grady was coming down the stairs, carrying a bucket of pinkish water.

“Grady, is your carriage still out front?” I asked.

“It should be,” he replied. “Jensen knows to take the horses around the block if they get restless, but I told him to wait for me.”

“Good, come with me,” I said and started for the door.

He set the bucket on the floor and looked uncertainly over his shoulder. “Don’t you think we should tell the others?”

Justine would happily go with me, but Devlin would never approve of what I was about to do. Somewhere in the back of my mind that thought set off warning bells. I was going to do something that was probably foolish. If it had been anyone else’s idea, I would have been the first to object. But that demon had been in control of Michael’s body for nearly twenty-four hours and I had to know that he was all right. I wasn’t ready to fight him yet, but I had to see his face.

I opened the front door and turned back to Grady. “It’s easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission,” I said.

“But not necessarily wiser,” Grady mumbled.

THIRTEEN

The area of London where the ring led me was filled with brothels, pubs, and opium dens. It was dark, dirty, and dangerous. No respectable person would ever walk these streets. It was exactly the sort of place I would expect to find a woman like Barbara. I reached up and knocked on the roof of the carriage, and it rolled to a stop.

“Do you know which building?” Grady asked as we got out.

“No,” I replied. “But it will be somewhere in this block.”

We walked in silence for a while, until I caught sight of a man crossing the street at the end of the block. I grabbed Grady’s arm and pushed him back against the building. Flattening my back to the wall, I watched. The man wore a long coat and a hat pulled down low over his eyes, but it was definitely Michael. I knew it by the way he walked, the way he moved. Even at a distance I would know him anywhere.

He didn’t seem to sense our presence, so Grady and I slowly followed. At the corner, I stopped and peered around the edge of the building. The road was long and narrow, cramped with shops and tenements, and littered with refuse. Barbara stood outside the door to one of the shops, feeding on a human. She held the man with his arms pulled behind his back as her teeth pierced his throat. I knew she hadn’t bothered to bespell him because he was struggling to pull free of her.

I heard Michael’s voice say something to her, but I couldn’t hear what it was. She looked up, blood staining her full lips, and smiled. Then, with such practiced ease that I jerked back in surprise, she snapped the neck of the man she had been feeding from. It wasn’t often that someone committed an executable offense right in front of me. When you were the executioner they tended not to do that.

Michael entered the building and Barbara followed him, dragging the body of her victim behind her. Slowly I walked down the street, Grady following me. When I reached the solid, windowless metal door they had used, I paused and placed my hand on it, listening. I could hear muffled human voices from within, but no sound of Barbara or Michael.

As quietly as possible, I pushed the door open. When I didn’t sense any vampires in the immediate area, I walked inside. The large, dimly lit room was crammed with rows of cots, nearly all of which were occupied by a human man or woman. Insensible, they lay there, either unconscious or muttering words that had no meaning except in their clouded minds. I wrinkled my nose. Barbara’s victim had been dumped unceremoniously just inside the door, and the entire place reeked of unwashed bodies and opium.

“What is this place?” I asked Grady.

“It’s an opium nest,” he replied. “Vampires purchase the opium and the humans come here for the drug.”

“And then the vampires feed from them,” I said.

He shrugged. “Human blood laced with opium is quite a sensation, they say. The High King has declared opium nests to be illegal, but it’s hard to put a stop to them. You close one down and they just reopen another elsewhere.”

I looked around, noting a door at the opposite end of the room. “I’ll be back shortly. You stay here in case any vampires decide to drop by for dinner. I’m sure, as a known warden, you won’t have any problem deterring them from coming in. I don’t want to worry about the possibility that one of these opium-laced vamps might be loyal to Barbara or that demon and alert them to my presence.”

“Cin?” Grady asked. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Not remotely, I thought. All I knew was that the man I loved was in this building. The demon might be in possession of his body, but Michael was somewhere inside, trapped. It was reckless and irresponsible, I realized that, but I was drawn to him like a moth to the flame. I just needed to know that his body, at least, was unharmed.

There was a dark hallway beyond the door. Empty rooms opened off either side of the hall, but it was the big metal door at the end that beckoned me. Cautiously I crept up to it and listened.

“I have not fulfilled the terms of my summoning,” Michael’s voice said, and I stifled a sigh of relief that he was all right.

I should have left then, but Barbara’s next words stopped me.

“He doesn’t care about that,” Barbara insisted. “All he wants is her dead. He says you’re to kill her tonight.”

Michael sighed. “I grow weary of this conversation.”

There was a rustling of fabric and then Barbara said, low and throaty, “Then perhaps there are other ways I can convince you. I do love the feel of this body.”

Before I was even aware of what I was doing I’d thrown open the steel door and strode into the room. Barbara was standing with her thin body pressed against my husband’s. She turned her head in surprise and then smiled.

“My, isn’t this convenient?” she said.

Michael was wearing the same clothes he’d had on the night before, but his shirt was open and the talisman gleamed against his skin. Barbara’s hands moved inside his shirt, boldly caressing the rigid muscles of his chest. I wanted to grab her by the hair and slam her face into the wall. I did neither of those things, though. I just stood there, realizing too late what a stupid thing I’d just done. Michael cocked his head to one side.

“The females of your species seem to be unusually attracted to this form,” he said.

That was an understatement. Michael had the face of an angel and a body many women would walk through hell to possess. And Barbara was about to get the opportunity to put that to the test if she didn’t get her hands off of him. Unfortunately for her, she was as stupid as she looked. Instead of stepping away, she turned and pulled his head down to hers for a kiss.

Michael’s eyes watched me as she ground her lips against his before her tongue slid inside. I felt the tears well up in my eyes and my stomach rolled in revulsion. Michael pulled away from her, still watching my face.

“Oh, look,” Barbara said. “She’s jealous.”

He inhaled deeply, as if he could scent what I was feeling. “No,” he said. “That isn’t jealousy. That is raw hatred.”

Barbara’s eyes went from him to me. I caught her gaze and let her see every bit of the white-hot anger that was boiling inside me.

“You will die for that,” I said, barely recognizing my own voice, it was laced with so much violence. “And for killing the human. But mostly for that.”

Under the weight of my icy glare, she backed away from Michael.

Michael took a step toward me, a curious expression on his face. “The thought of this body lying with another female brings you pain. It’s almost too bad I have no interest in fornication. I should like to see exactly how much that might torture you.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Some demons, such as incubi and succubi, gained their power through sex. This one fed off of pain and death. It didn’t seem to be a better trade, but at the moment I was grateful for it.

“Kill her!” Barbara screeched. “Kill her now!”

Michael turned sharply and hissed at her. “I told you, I have not fulfilled the terms of my summoning. I agreed to cause the Red Witch unimaginable pain and then to take her body. I cannot do the second until I’ve done the first.”

“Sebastian releases you from your oath,” Barbara said. “Kill her!”

Michael shook his head. “I do not know this man, Sebastian. My agreement was with the wizard who summoned me, and only he can renegotiate the terms. But he is dead now, the first of my kills.”

“The wizard was your master and Sebastian was his,” she insisted. “You were brought here to steal her power for him. Sebastian paid the price of your summoning.”

“Vampire,” Michael scolded. “I have no master. The wizard was a conduit, nothing more. I agreed to take her power. I did not agree to share it with anyone.”

“Of course you did!” Barbara shouted, her frustration evident. “Why the bloody hell else would we summon you?”

“I do not know,” the demon said, simply. “Perhaps you should have been clearer about the terms of our agreement.”

As interesting as the conversation was, I decided to take advantage of the fact that they both seemed to have forgotten I was there and started slowly backing toward the door. I had just cleared the threshold when Barbara realized my intention.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said. “I’ll kill you myself if I have to.”

She ran at me but I stood perfectly still and waited. When she was within reach I grabbed a handful of her tangled mass of hair and pulled her out into the hallway. With one foot I kicked the door closed behind us.

“Lock,” I shouted, pushing my magic into the door. It was made to keep vampires out of the Ripper’s sanctuary. I was hoping it was strong enough to keep him in, at least until we could get back to the carriage.

Barbara was fighting me, scratching and clawing, teeth snapping within inches of my face. I got a firm grip on her hair and slammed her head into the wall hard enough to daze her.

“Cin!” Grady called out, interrupting the brief moment of pleasure I had taken in knocking the harlot senseless.

The first loud bang came from the other side of the metal door, and I dragged Barbara down the hall and hurled her at Grady.

“Get her out of here,” I said urgently. “And make sure she’s locked up where she can’t escape. We’ll need her later.”

“What about you?” he asked.

“I’m right behind you,” I assured him. “Now, go!”

He grabbed Barbara by the wrist and pulled her after him. I turned and watched the steel door bend under the strain of Michael’s hammering. My magic wouldn’t hold the door once the hinges gave way. Whirling around, I ran after Grady. One more loud crack and the steel door hit the ground. I had just wound my way around the humans littering the outer room and reached the front door when a strong arm snaked around my waist.

Michael pulled me back against his body and for a moment I relaxed, craving the feel of him against me.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” he whispered and my body shuddered in response, even though my mind was screaming that this was not the man I loved.

I cried out in frustration as he dragged me back down the hall. So many weapons at my disposal, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him. When we were once again inside his sanctuary, he threw me violently across the room. I collapsed onto the cot, narrowly missing the wall with my head.

“Humans,” he said. “Vampires. There is little sport in either. I thought you would be a challenge. They said you had great power. The power of a god, they promised me. But I see no power here. This form,” he said, gesturing to himself, “it makes you weak.”

“No,” I replied. “It makes me strong. His love is what makes life worthwhile.”

“And I have taken that from you. Does it hurt?”

“You can take his body, but you can’t take his love. The bond Michael and I share is eternal and nothing you can do will ever change that.”

“Are you so certain?” he asked. Reaching down, he pulled one of Michael’s daggers from the inside of his boot. Holding it up, he looked at it. And then he looked at me. “How badly would I have to hurt you, I wonder, before you stopped looking at this body with tenderness? Why don’t we find out.”

He crossed the room and I scooted back against the wall. My magic was useless against him as long as he wore the talisman, and I seriously doubted my ability to physically fight him and win.

“Michael, I love you,” I cried. “I love you.”

When he had nearly reached me he stumbled and fell to his knees in front of me. The knife dropped from his fingers and he raised his head. Strain was etched into his face, making his cheekbones stand out in sharp relief. His eyes, which had been so blank and emotionless since the demon had infected him, were filled with pain.

“Run,” he said.

“Michael?” I asked, unable to believe he was really here, in front of me.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice ragged with the strain of fighting the demon for control. “If you love me, run.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice harsh with unshed tears. I kissed him swiftly. “I promise I’ll save you.”

He threw his head back and screamed, the muscles in his neck straining with the effort to hold the demon at bay. I grasped the gold talisman and jerked it off his neck.

And then I ran.

FOURTEEN

Devlin and Justine were furious with me when we got back to the house, but there was no time to waste with recriminations and apologies. Dawn was still hours away and I had a feeling the demon would come for me tonight. He fed on pain and suffering, and Michael and I had denied him a meal. I did not believe that slight would go unpunished. I fingered the amulet in my coat pocket. I hoped he would come. I was ready now.

Barbara was screaming and cursing, but we all ignored her. I shoved her toward Devlin and said, “Take her upstairs to Michael’s studio. Clear everything out of the room that you can. I need a large, empty space to do this. And arm yourselves. He’ll come and he may not be alone.”

Barbara protested, but Devlin took one arm and Justine the other and they simply lifted her off her feet and carried her up the stairs. I felt pity for the human she’d killed, but in reality it had been quite a stroke of luck. The instant she’d snapped his neck she’d signed her own death warrant. She would be the bait on my hook and I would carry no guilt over it.

“What can we do?” Ginny asked, her innocent face lit up in eagerness.

“I want you and Warren to go back to his shop and don’t come home until morning,” I said. “And for the love of Danu, stop and tell Will and Amy not to come to work tomorrow. There’s no telling what state this house is going to be in by the time we’re finished tonight.”

“But I can help, Cin,” she protested. “Tell me what you need.”

I took her hands in mine. “There will be no arguing about it this time. You will go. What I need is for you to be somewhere else so that I can do what I must and not worry about your safety. I can’t afford the distraction, Ginny.”

“She’s right,” Warren said. “This is something best left to them to handle.”

“Grady will see you safely to the shop,” I said, looking over Ginny’s shoulder to the warden.

He nodded his assent. “Do you wish me to return after I’ve delivered them?” he asked.

“I think that might be wise,” I said. “And perhaps you should bring the other wardens with you when you come. If you should find us all dead—” I paused, considering what advice I should give him. “To be honest with you, Grady, if we fail I don’t know what to tell you to do.”

“Then you mustn’t fail,” he said. “I wish you luck.”

I hugged Ginny and Warren goodbye, then made a quick list in my head of the things I would need. I found the cabinet where Ginny stored the candles and shoved as many as I could fit into an empty canvas bag. Then I rushed into the parlor and snatched the urn off the shelf, tucking it under my arm. On my way to the third floor where Michael’s painting studio was, I made a quick stop at my bedroom.

I was happy to see that the wall had been scrubbed and the furniture rearranged. Depositing the urn and the candles on the bed, I took the amulet out of my coat pocket. Everything that was about to happen hinged on my being able to work my magic against the demon. Thank the gods that Michael had been strong enough to give me that one moment to take the necklace. It was indeed the same one I had taken off Sebastian all those years ago. In some dark corner of my soul I was pleased that he was so afraid of me that he’d kept the talisman for nearly a century. I placed it in my jewelry box for safekeeping and noticed that Ginny had returned the Craven Cross in my absence. I fastened the heavy piece around my neck, feeling a sense of comfort that it was back in my possession. Then I removed my coat and put my pistol back in the weapons chest. Gathering up the urn and the bag of candles, I sprinted up to the third floor.

Devlin and Justine were just carrying the last of Michael’s things from the studio and storing them in my study.

“Where is Barbara?” I asked, concerned that they’d left her alone.

Devlin rolled his eyes and pointed to the far corner of the studio. They’d bound her hands and feet and gagged her. I raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

“She has a foul mouth on her, that one,” Justine complained.

“As long as she’s there when I need her, I don’t care what you do to her,” I said.

I handed Devlin the urn and dumped the bag of candles onto the floor. Justine and I worked quickly to lay them out in a perfect circle. I then pulled one of the knives from the sheaths on my forearms and drew it down my wrist. Blood welled up and I walked the circle again, holding my arm out so that the blood fell to the floor just inside the ring of candles. It was a slapdash way to set a circle of protection, but it was quick and powerful. When I was finished I placed the urn in the center of the circle.

“What do we do now?” Justine asked.

“We hope he shows up,” I replied. “I’ll go downstairs. You two keep an eye on her. If he comes alone, be as unobtrusive as possible and stay out of the way. If he brings reinforcements with him—” I shrugged. “Do what you do best.”

FIFTEEN

I sat at the foot of the stairs, waiting, preparing myself. The role of the helpless victim was one I didn’t enjoy playing, especially now that I was confident in my ability to use my power against the demon. But he liked my fear and I would do whatever it took to get him where I wanted him.

I hadn’t been waiting long when the front door burst open and Michael strode in with six men at his back. One of the downsides of being a vampire is that other vampires don’t need an invitation to enter your house. I wondered briefly if he had recruited these vampires from the opium nest. As with humans, there never seemed to be a shortage of idle men willing and eager to follow a strong leader into the thrill of battle. They would not enjoy the experience. For the moment, though, I leapt to my feet and pasted a look of panic on my face.

“Witch,” Michael said, in a tone I hoped never to hear directed at me again.

I turned and ran up the stairs, glancing behind me as I reached the landing to make sure he was following me. With slow, determined strides he climbed the stairs, obviously confident in his ability to win this fight. And why wouldn’t he be? He’d held the upper hand … until now.

“Six at his back,” I said as I rushed into the room.

Devlin and Justine were standing on either side of the door, their bodies pressed against the wall. I didn’t worry whether or not they could handle the situation. My entire focus was now on Barbara. Her eyes widened when she saw the look on my face as I crossed the room. Perhaps, if she was sensitive enough, she even felt the power beginning to build within me. I thought of her hands on Michael’s bare chest, of her lips pressed to his, her tongue invading his mouth. My anger fed the dark side of my magic and that’s exactly what I needed right now to tempt a demon. I bent down and picked her up, slinging her over my shoulder. Carrying her into the center of the circle of candles, I dropped her on the floor.

I could hear booted footsteps striding down the hall, and I closed my eyes and called on the darkness inside me. It rolled through me, welling up until it filled every inch of me. There was a time when I would have fought it, been afraid of it, but those days were gone. It was a part of me and with that acceptance I had gained control of it. Now I ruled the darkness; it did not rule me. I opened my eyes, and I knew from Devlin and Justine’s worried expressions that my normally whiskey-brown eyes had turned black with the magic I had called.

Michael walked through the door with his sword drawn, moving with that catlike grace I loved so well. The moment he crossed the threshold, Devlin and Justine spun into the doorway, knocking back the six vampires who’d attempted to enter behind him. With my magic I forced the door to close and lock, drowning out the sounds of the fight that had begun in the hall. I didn’t worry for Devlin and Justine—there were only six of them, after all. Michael cocked his head to one side in curiosity.

“Do you feel it?” I asked.

He walked forward. “Power,” he said, and there was hunger in his voice.

“I want you to leave my husband’s body,” I demanded.

“No,” he replied. “I have grown fond of it. Besides, if I leave his body I must enter another. I have no interest in hers,” he said, pointing to Barbara, “and that only leaves yours.”

I ignored the last comment. “She is not for you,” I said. “She sealed her fate when she broke the law of the High King and killed a human. I saw her do it and she must pay for it with her life.”

Barbara tried to struggle to her feet, but I grabbed her by the back of the neck and forced her to be still.

“These vampires,” the demon said, “you sit in judgment on them. You weigh their sins and extract retribution from them.”

“Yes,” I replied.

“You are a god,” he stated.

“No. I am The Righteous.”

With that I set the darkness free. I stepped away from Barbara as black light poured from my body and surrounded her. The black magic liked blood and death, and isn’t that what a vampire was? I threw my head back as I felt the pull of it feeding on whatever magic it was that animated a vampire’s body. I didn’t have to look to know that she was shriveling, disintegrating, as the darkness consumed her from the inside out. I didn’t have to look to know that there would be nothing left but ashes when the black magic returned to me. I had seen it all before.

I pulled the darkness back inside me, my skin tingling with the rush of power it brought with it. Opening my eyes, I looked at the evil bastard wearing my husband’s skin.

“What are you?” he asked.

I spread my arms wide. “I am everything they said I was, and more. Leave Michael’s body and come and take me if you can.”

His eyes flashed red a moment before his long, unnatural blue form slid through Michael’s skin. Michael fell to the floor and the demon entered my circle. Power vibrated through me and the candles surrounding us flared to life, black flames rising from the white wax. I felt the pop of the magic that set the circle. I had trapped him inside with me, and only one of us would walk out.

I stepped backward, never taking my eyes off the demon as I leaned down and removed the lid from the urn. Moving to the opposite edge of the circle, I positioned the urn between me and the demon.

“What is this?” the demon asked, his voice harsh like the sound of breaking glass.

I spoke the words I had learned so long ago. “By blood I bind you! By the power of this circle I bind you! By the power of my will I bind you!”

He rushed forward and I put my hands out in front of me, pushing against him with all the power I could call, praying it would be enough. The demon pushed back and I felt his power beating against me, hammering at me until I thought every bone in my body would break from the force of it. And then I felt him stumble.

Like a slip of the foot, something shifted, faltered. The darkness inside me surged forward anew, a hungry predator that had scented weakness in its prey. The demon screamed and I thought my ears might bleed from the sound of it. His form lost what little definition it had once possessed and before my eyes he turned to vapor. Like a genie being sucked back into its bottle, the demon was drawn into the urn. I slammed the lid down on it and stood there, shaking, unable to believe that it had actually worked. The black magic, sated with the life it had taken and the victory it had won, settled back into whatever corner of my soul it resided in, content to stay there quietly until I needed it again.

“Cin?” Michael’s voice came to me on a whisper.

He was sitting up on his knees, staring at me like he didn’t know what was happening. I staggered out of the circle and collapsed in front of him. His hands reached out to cup my face, brushing back the tears.

“M’anam,” he said softly. My soul.

I threw my arms around him and leaned into the hard wall of his chest, burying my face in the side of his neck. He held me tightly and I thought that I’d never been happier to be anywhere than I was to be right here, with him.

“You left me,” I cried brokenly.

“Never, mo chridhe,” he said, gently rocking me back and forth. “I will never leave you. I promise, I will never leave you.”

It was the last thing I heard before my body shut down from utter exhaustion.

SIXTEEN

I woke to find myself in my bed with Michael’s arms wrapped around me. I could have wept with the pleasure of it. Feeling as though I had slept for a night and a day—and perhaps I had—I stretched lazily, reveling in the feel of Michael’s body against my bare skin. I might have been content to just lie there, blissfully enjoying the moment, if he hadn’t woken at my stirring.

I sighed at the feel of his lips against my skin, and when he gently bit me at the juncture of my shoulder and neck, my body shuddered in response. It seemed it had been weeks since I’d last had him, not days, and my body cried out for us to finish what we had begun in the carriage. I turned in his arms and pushed him back until I could crawl over him, straddling his hips.

“Welcome back,” I said, staring down into his beautiful face.

“Cin—” he began, but I swallowed his words with a kiss. There would be time enough to talk about what had happened later. At the moment I just wanted to feel.

I moved against him, back and forth along his shaft, feeling the moisture build with each stroke. Normally I enjoyed letting him be the dominant one. Nothing excited me more than giving myself over to him and having him take me as he willed. Tonight though, after all that had happened, I wanted to be in control. I felt the driving need to possess him, to reassure myself that he was here, and that he was mine. I wanted to put my mark on him.

Ever so slowly I moved to take him inside me. Teasingly I slid down an inch, then two, and then out again, over and over until the muscles in his chest quivered from the torment. His fingers bit into my thighs as he tried to make me take all of him, but I wouldn’t allow it.

“Cin,” he said raggedly.

“Such a greedy man,” I replied, mimicking the words he had said to me in the carriage. “Do you want more?”

“Please,” he growled.

I sank down on him, burying him to the hilt inside me, and we both cried out with pleasure. My body quivered in ecstasy at the feel of him stretching me, filling me. I laid my hands on his chest and my hair fell over us like a scarlet curtain as I rode him at a punishing pace. We came together quickly, violently, and as my body ebbed with sated bliss, I collapsed onto his chest, spent.

“Do you have any idea how lucky I am to be loved by a woman like you?” he asked.

I paused from licking the blood from the crescent-shaped wounds my fingernails had left on his chest.

“Almost as lucky as I am to be loved by you,” I replied, “Will you love me forever, Michael?”

“Cin, my heart, my soul,” he said earnestly. “The moon will fall from the sky and vampires will walk in the sun before the day comes that I ever love thee not.”

EPILOGUE

News traveled quickly throughout the vampire population that I had slain the demon. Sebastian fled the city the following night. Legally, I probably couldn’t have executed him for his involvement in the Ripper murders. We had no concrete evidence, and I had, after all, incinerated our only corroborating witness. But Sebastian had apparently decided to save his own skin on the chance that someone who didn’t care so much for solid proof would assassinate him—either that or my infamous temper would finally get the better of me and I’d kill him out of spite. Michael had been furious when Grady told us the Regent had disappeared, but I wasn’t surprised. Sebastian was a sneaky bastard and he was a survivor. I was fairly certain our paths would cross again one day. Hopefully in a dark alley where no one would be the wiser if I allowed Michael to carve him up like a Christmas goose.

Since it rarely happened that a regency was vacated without a challenge and a resulting victorious party, the London vampires were left in a bit of a quandary over who would take control of the city. In a surge of democratic fervor, wholly uncharacteristic of vampires, the court decided to put it to a vote. Grady suggested that his Chief Warden should be elected Regent, by virtue of court seniority, since all of Sebastian’s lieutenants were now being looked upon with suspicion. Warden James declined the nomination, and in the end it was Grady who was elected Regent, mostly because of his help in toppling a corrupt ruler and vanquishing a demon, but having The Righteous endorse his nomination certainly helped. I thought he would make a fine Regent.

We stayed in London long enough to see Grady elected and to attend Ginny and Warren’s wedding. Warren moved into the house, but insisted on keeping the apothecary shop open. It was, after all, a family tradition … along with consorting with vampires. Ginny was looking particularly radiant when they saw us off at the docks and, as I waved goodbye from the deck of the Peregrine, I wondered how long it would be before they gave me another generation of humans to love, and lose.

As for the demon, Michael and I had taken the urn and dropped it into a large rectangular form filled with concrete. When that had dried we’d loaded it into a specially made steel box with four-inch-thick sides. And then we padlocked it. Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean I planned on taking a break from making love to my husband to drop it over the edge of the ship.

And where was that ship bound? We decided to take a holiday and see America again. Perhaps New York this time.