the apartment from the
rest of the world, the Ripper could do anything he wanted to his
victim and no one would hear any of it, no matter how loud or long
she screamed. A cold chill prickled the skin of my arms. He’d done
just that, slicing the woman to pieces while she lay in her own
bed, just feet from her neighbors on each side and they hadn’t
heard a thing. The other wards had kept the stench of her rotting
body down as she lay there for who knows how long. Jack had invaded
her home and killed her where she lived.
My chest tightened as I went back into
the room. As much as I didn’t want to be there, I still had work to
do. My uncle had sent me here to catch a killer. Up until right
then, it had just been a job. I was there because Lucifer wanted me
to do something. Now, it was personal. Seeing the savaged remains
of Jack’s victim was a greater motivation than anything else.
Anyone who would carve up an innocent like that needed to be taken
out, needed to be offered the sharp end of a knife just as he
showed this poor, young woman.
The silence only amplified my fury.
Unable to hear the breath spilling from my lungs or the creak of
the floor as I walked gave me no respite from my thoughts. While
the ward assured me no one would hear me as I investigated the
apartment, I couldn’t handle the absolute quiet. My heart thumping
without sound inside my chest, I went over to the silencing ward
and sank my fingers into the moist wood. A quick scrape cut lines
through the sigil, pieces of wood and old paint peeling up beneath
my fingernails.
The world crashed into my
ears.
One moment it was utterly silent, the
next, the rumble of distant thunder sounded as though it exploded
in my head. Scarlett’s pacing boots were a cannonade; her muffled
coughs the barks of wolves. The floor screamed beneath my weight
and the clock on the wall droned, every second a snapping
twig.
It was a few, very uncomfortable
moments before the world settled and my hearing adjusted. When it
did, I drew a deep breath despite the stench, just to hear the
sound. My nose hated me right then, but the fetid stink of dead
flesh chased the anger from me, replacing it with disgust. A quiet,
steady hum rang in my ears.
I looked to the body once more, and
then let my gaze slide away. For all the damage Jack had done, the
poor woman wouldn’t be telling me what happened. No, if there was
to be anything useful in the room, it would be there alongside the
wards. They alone were proof that there was more to these killings
than anyone had known.
The papers hadn’t mentioned any
strange symbols drawn upon the walls near the other victims, but
then again they hadn’t been killed in their homes. Maybe Jack had
murdered them elsewhere and only dropped their bodies where they
could be found. If that was the case, he could likely go on doing
it forever. No one would think twice about a man walking along with
a drunken prostitute. He could dump the bodies anywhere and then
just stroll away, never to be recognized. Worse still, if he knew
enough magic to keep his crime scenes from being found, what else
was he capable of?
I didn’t really want to know. He
simply needed to die.
I followed the wards from one to the
next, circling the small room to look at each of the five sigils
set upon the walls, a few, faint footprints led the way with
crimson trails. At the last of the wards, a thought struck me.
Turning so my back was against the wall, I traced the location of
the wards with my eyes, sighing as a mental image formed. They’d
been arranged at five points. If I were to stretch a rope between
the points, it would form the shape of a pentagram.
Add that to the ominous room number
and it was clear this wasn’t just some random murder or sadistic
release. It had been a ritual.
I swallowed hard at the
realization. Lucifer might not be involved in any of this, but
given the evidence, I couldn’t be sure someone else from
Hell wasn’t involved somehow. Was
rest of the world, the Ripper could do anything he wanted to his
victim and no one would hear any of it, no matter how loud or long
she screamed. A cold chill prickled the skin of my arms. He’d done
just that, slicing the woman to pieces while she lay in her own
bed, just feet from her neighbors on each side and they hadn’t
heard a thing. The other wards had kept the stench of her rotting
body down as she lay there for who knows how long. Jack had invaded
her home and killed her where she lived.
My chest tightened as I went back into
the room. As much as I didn’t want to be there, I still had work to
do. My uncle had sent me here to catch a killer. Up until right
then, it had just been a job. I was there because Lucifer wanted me
to do something. Now, it was personal. Seeing the savaged remains
of Jack’s victim was a greater motivation than anything else.
Anyone who would carve up an innocent like that needed to be taken
out, needed to be offered the sharp end of a knife just as he
showed this poor, young woman.
The silence only amplified my fury.
Unable to hear the breath spilling from my lungs or the creak of
the floor as I walked gave me no respite from my thoughts. While
the ward assured me no one would hear me as I investigated the
apartment, I couldn’t handle the absolute quiet. My heart thumping
without sound inside my chest, I went over to the silencing ward
and sank my fingers into the moist wood. A quick scrape cut lines
through the sigil, pieces of wood and old paint peeling up beneath
my fingernails.
The world crashed into my
ears.
One moment it was utterly silent, the
next, the rumble of distant thunder sounded as though it exploded
in my head. Scarlett’s pacing boots were a cannonade; her muffled
coughs the barks of wolves. The floor screamed beneath my weight
and the clock on the wall droned, every second a snapping
twig.
It was a few, very uncomfortable
moments before the world settled and my hearing adjusted. When it
did, I drew a deep breath despite the stench, just to hear the
sound. My nose hated me right then, but the fetid stink of dead
flesh chased the anger from me, replacing it with disgust. A quiet,
steady hum rang in my ears.
I looked to the body once more, and
then let my gaze slide away. For all the damage Jack had done, the
poor woman wouldn’t be telling me what happened. No, if there was
to be anything useful in the room, it would be there alongside the
wards. They alone were proof that there was more to these killings
than anyone had known.
The papers hadn’t mentioned any
strange symbols drawn upon the walls near the other victims, but
then again they hadn’t been killed in their homes. Maybe Jack had
murdered them elsewhere and only dropped their bodies where they
could be found. If that was the case, he could likely go on doing
it forever. No one would think twice about a man walking along with
a drunken prostitute. He could dump the bodies anywhere and then
just stroll away, never to be recognized. Worse still, if he knew
enough magic to keep his crime scenes from being found, what else
was he capable of?
I didn’t really want to know. He
simply needed to die.
I followed the wards from one to the
next, circling the small room to look at each of the five sigils
set upon the walls, a few, faint footprints led the way with
crimson trails. At the last of the wards, a thought struck me.
Turning so my back was against the wall, I traced the location of
the wards with my eyes, sighing as a mental image formed. They’d
been arranged at five points. If I were to stretch a rope between
the points, it would form the shape of a pentagram.
Add that to the ominous room number
and it was clear this wasn’t just some random murder or sadistic
release. It had been a ritual.
I swallowed hard at the
realization. Lucifer might not be involved in any of this, but
given the evidence, I couldn’t be sure someone else from
Hell wasn’t involved somehow. Was
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