by Michele Ryan
Clara giggled. “Had you had bothered to ask, mate, instead of assuming, I would have told you I’ve mixed together herbs, which, when taken daily can prevent pregnancy without harming my fertility.”
“And if you had bothered to tell me you were doing such, mate, I might have told you, I’m not sure if wolves can prevent conception.”
“They can,” she assured him.
He sighed.
Clara took pity on him. “Rest assure, my mate. Dell and I spoke, at length. She helped me find the herbs, mix them, and brew them. She told me female wolves have used such a tea for centuries. Feel free to have your way with whenever the need arises.”
Ezra chuckled. “It would be my pleasure.”
“I figured.”
Ezra slowly pulled himself from her swollen body and made his way to the bathroom. After cleaning her up with a cloth, he situated them under the light covers. They kissed and cuddled before Ezra tugged her over his body. Clara smiled down at him, the hardness of his erection pressing into her belly.
“I love you, my Creole Queen.”
“I love you too, my wolf,” she whispered against his lips.
Chapter Seven
As much as Ezra enjoyed his respite from their normal lives protecting London, Frazer was still out there, and they still needed to find him before more women died. His mate lay in his bed, asleep, her naked form, inviting. His cock stood ready, yet she needed a breather. I’ve mixed together herbs... The crafty woman had figured out a way to prevent conception. Leave it to his Clara. The idea of staying there with her had been tempting. Instead, he dressed quietly so not to wake her then left their room to check on Grant, who slept soundly with Mr. Tinnin/Dr. Brew keeping watch, and Seh who was sucking on his tiny thumb. The temptation to check on Kellen was an itch between his shoulder blades, but he knew his friend took care of the babe as though he were born of Jonah and Annabelle’s love. Ezra took to the stairs, ambling down them as he put on his jacket.
This evening would put end to the terror surrounding London. Again, the Dreadfuls would vanquish the evil running amuck. No one would know it was them. Others would see them and make up fantastic stories of what they saw. They’d be so unbelievable no one would take the author seriously and only Ezra and the Dreadfuls would know the truth. He came to a stop by the front door and waited for Andres, Emmitt, and Lawson to join him. He’d almost asked Donovan to take Emmitt’s place, but the reanimated man had been insistent. The confusion and mad ramblings of the man had disturbed Ezra while they’d been at the World’s Fair the night before. However, it wasn’t until Andres pulled Emmitt aside and said something to him that Emmitt relaxed and told them exactly what happened.
Last night, while at the World’s Fair, Emmitt had been sure he’d seen the one man he’d swear had died several years previously. Levi Raycraft had made Emmitt. Made every incarnation of Emmitt, but according to the reanimated man, none of them had survived. They’d either died straight after reanimation or within days, due to Emmitt killing them. They’d been ruthless. Nothing like him. It’d been one of the reasons the mob had chased Raycraft, who, for all intents and purposes, had died that fateful night.
As Andres entered the foyer, so did Emmitt. The small shows of affection between both men Ezra had spied the day before at the fair surprised him, but not much. He’d overheard Clara and the women speaking about it. In his case, the situation was none of his business, as long as Emmitt was happy and a willing participant, Ezra would be happy for both men.
“These will help you communicate with each other without having to make a sound.” Donovan entered the foyer with Lawson. “They are simply sublime.”
“What are they?” Lawson peered down at the machinations in Mr. Lloyd’s hand.
“They’re called beacons.” Donovan handed him one of the small trinket-like bugs. “Pull the stinger out.” He pointed to the tail of the bee. “And it will light up. Each one will blink in return indicating the person is in need of assistance or has found something. The closer you come to the initial call beacon, the quicker the lights will flash.”
“Well, how adorably wicked.” Andres took one and placed it in his pocket.
“Fantastic.” Emmitt grasped one by the wing. “I believe this is better than your butterflies.”
“Thank you, Emmitt.” Mr. Lloyd offered up the other two bees to Ezra and Lawson. “Don’t worry about replacing the stinger. Like their anthophila brethren, they die after one use.”
Ezra took his. He turned the insect over, inspecting the craftsmanship. Donovan did amazing work. He didn’t know where the man soldered the copper together to make it appear to be one continuous line. The gems were all a single color, yellow, with obsidian glass to offset it. It was exquisite.
“Are we ready?” Ezra placed the bee in his pocket then opened the door. “We have to—”
“Sorry,” Inspector Sharpter said, his fist raised, poised to knock on the door.
Ezra’s stomach dropped. Had there been another murder while they’d taken the day off? “We were on our way out. I supposed it is serendipitous you’re here.”
“Yes, I can see this,” the inspector answered. “I wanted to offer my services.”
A bit of Ezra relaxed. “Of course, one more would help us.” Ezra stepped outside, followed by Andres, Emmitt, and Lawson.
“I have it on good authority he’ll be in the Whitechapel area tonight,” Hoyt said. “I thought we could start there.”
Ezra glanced at Andres who shrugged. “Fine. How did you find this out?”
“Father Douglas.”
Hoyt pointed to the priest, Father Douglas, standing on the corner. He wore a long black duster and a Padre hat. A flash of orange followed by a wisp of smoke curled into the air. The man didn’t look like any priest Ezra knew. Slowly, Father Douglas lifted his head. He had a few days’ facial hair growth, and a long scar bisecting his face. A cruel smirk curled the corner of his mouth as he pushed the right side of his jacket aside, exposing a deadly pistol at his hip.
“Well,” Andres muttered. “He’s friendly.”
“Very,” Lawson scoffed.
Emmitt approached the man with more than a bit of caution. “And...he’s going to help us, though he appears to want to kill us?”
Hoyt gave a nervous laugh. “Father Douglas assures me he only wants to assist, despite his appearance.”
Ezra approached first. “Father.” He extended his hand, and when the man shook it, he spoke again. “It’s good to have you on the team.”
“I’m here to rid the scourge from the world. Nothing more. Nothing less.” He cut his gaze to Ezra’s team members. “God’s work.”
Nothing foreboding about that at all.
“He sounds delightful,” Andres quipped. “Shall we, gentlemen? The night is long, and I would rather be off doing other things.”
Emmitt’s cheeks turned a molten color, different than his usual coloring, which surprised Ezra, then kind of disturbed him. “As we’ve said, Frazer needs to be dispatched and soon. The longer he is allowed to run roughshod over this city, the more victims we’ll find.”
“I agree,” Sharpter said. “It’s why I invited Father Douglas.”
“I guess it’s a good thing Jonah stayed home,” Andres muttered.
“You, fiend,” Father Douglas said. “Didn’t your mother teach you to mind your manners?”
“She taught me lots of things, Father.” Andres stepped toward the priest. “It’s how I earned my charming personality.”
The man flicked his cigarette at the gutter. “There are vampires and ghouls afoot.”
“Is he talking about us?” Emmitt glanced from Ezra to Lawson. “I should hope not. We’re not ghouls.”
“Speak for yourself, fancy pants,” Andres teased Emmitt. “I am purely demonic. The devil’s blood flows through my veins.” He ran his hand across his chest then down his stomach, a show Andres liked to put on for those who didn’t know him very well, like Father Dougla
s.
“Put it away, Mr. Dunn. We don’t need to see your evil at the moment.” Ezra shook his head. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Later then,” he replied. “A private showing. I’d invite the good Father, but he might be too excited.”
“Is he always this way?” Hoyt caught up to Ezra who’d scented the hint of blood on the air.
“No. Well, sometimes. It depends.”
“On what?” Hoyt cocked a brow.
“Who he’s trying to irritate.” Ezra stopped at the lip of the dark alley. No lanterns glowed there. No vagabonds or neglected children roamed the area. Interesting. “We should split up. Cover more ground. Father Douglas, Sharpter and I will go this way.” He pointed to the alley. “Lawson, Andres and Emmitt, you follow the trolley line.”
“And here I was, excited to get to know the good priest,” Andres drawled. “Pity.”
Ezra sighed. “Perhaps at a later date, Mr. Dunn.”
“Indeed.” Andres linked his arm with Emmitt’s. “Come along, my brutish delight. There’s danger afoot, and a vampire to be had.”
Ezra looked at the good Father who didn’t appear to be anything close to formal clergy. “He’s a bit...”
“Flamboyant?” Ezra hedged.
“Quite,” Hoyt added. “He’s not a bad person. He’d give his life for anyone he calls friend. He has a way about him.”
Douglas snorted. “No doubt, gentlemen. Shall we?” He motioned to the waiting alley.
Ezra waited for the hairs on the back of his neck to rise. Every time they’d come out there to hunt down Frazer, he got the unmistakable sense of being watched. Tonight, it didn’t show. It worried him. If the dapper reporter followed, at least he knew where the man with pomade hair and wax mustache was. He could keep an eye on the intrepid journalist and not have to worry about the bastard vampire killing him.
They inched their way through the muck of sewage and leftover remnants of trash and rotted food. The smell had his lip curling in disgust while the priest pulled a black bandana over his nose. Hoyt trailed behind them, gagging every so often. This route wasn’t the best for them, but Frazer didn’t do anything in the open. Ezra glanced over his shoulder at the inspector. The man was absolutely green with sickness.
“Delicate constitution?” Ezra cocked a brow.
“I made the mistake of looking down,” Sharpter answered. “Found a carcass of something dead.”
“Find those all over,” Douglas stated.
Ezra gave the man a withering glance. “Yes. Some of us are more in tune with scourge of London than others.”
“The boy is supposed to be part of the paranormal hunters.” Douglas turned on them. “He can’t be pigeon-livered.”
Hoyt screwed up his face while flinching. “It caught me off guard. Coupled with the fetid smell, it churned my stomach.”
“Can we not.” Hoyt’s idea of bringing the priest with him was turning out to be a bad decision. The man had a harsh way about him.
“I agree.” Ezra didn’t wait for the men, just shoved between them, continuing down the cobble lane. The glow of the moon lit the passage for him to follow as it grew narrower. The cries of a hungry babe rang out somewhere within the tenements surrounding them.
Drunk laughter layered with the moans of sexual pleasure. Ah, the depravity of Whitechapel. The muttered curses of Sharpter were followed by the scorn of the priest. They were like a couple of clucking hens. He wouldn’t have to worry about finding Frazer—the bastard would find him.
“Gather yourselves.” Ezra growled. “Are you purposely trying to get us caught?” He figured putting Hoyt with the Priest and him would save Douglas from dying a horrible death at Andres’ hands. Or worse, Lawson’s.
“Sorry,” Hoyt murmured, looking a bit sheepish.
“The boy needs a cuff to the back of his head,” Father Douglas muttered. “This isn’t women’s work. He shouldn’t act like a blubbering ninny.”
Lord love a duck. “Spread out. If Frazer is here—”
“He’s already spotted us.” Inspector Sharpter straightened his jacket. “I understand. Church mouse quiet.” He stepped around Ezra and headed out onto the dirty street.
Here the city burst with nightlife. Even at this hour, people meandered up and down the cobbled lanes. Three-penny uprights stood closest to the gas lamp poles while others huddled near fires burning brightly in metal barrels. Children huddled in groups of three or more, some sleeping while others watched out for them. The acrid smell of burnt coal tinged the air and, most likely, coated the inside of his nose.
Ezra followed behind Hoyt, breaking off from the inspector to head down the darker of streets. Father Douglas went straight for the children. Though the man had been an asshole since the moment he joined them, he also had a spark of compassion these kids needed. Ezra couldn’t pay attention to him. He had a job to do. As he stepped farther into the darkness, he allowed the wolf to push to the surface. His vision became acute, and is sense of smell sharpened. He’d need it.
The noise of a rambunctious city faded away as he focused on what was important. A cry. A plea. Something tempting. A promise. Intention. Ezra didn’t creep anymore, he stalked. His prey lay somewhere along these dingy cobble roads. The clop of horse hooves had him dipping into the shadows. No need to raise suspicions with his appearance. He peeked out from behind the wall and observed a man dressed in a fancy suit stepping from the carriage. Nothing had been out of the ordinary until the woman with him stumbled from the buggy. Her eyes were heavy, glassy almost. She stared up at the man, and Ezra didn’t believe she saw her suitor.
Turn. Turn so I can lay witness to your visage. Ezra fished for the bee in his pocket. His fingers grasped the winged insect and pulled it free. He wrapped his fingers around the stinger to pull it, when his began to blink. It works. The yellow jewels flashed at a rapid pace, denoting whoever had pulled their stinger had been close, which meant he wasn’t alone any longer. He stepped from where he’d been waiting and eased up behind Frazer. His steps were silent. His breath came at the softest of pants. Across from them, he spotted Emmitt in the shadows.
Andres came up beside Ezra from the east. At the lip of the street stood Hoyt and Father Douglas. Ezra’s heart hammered. Excitement and fear spiked in his system. The team surrounded Bennett Frazer. The vampire had to know they had him. Ezra took another step towards the couple. He stretched his arm out to grab the man and take him down, but Frazer spun away. He stopped in the middle of the empty lane. His gaze darted from person to person. A clatter of cans drew Ezra’s attention as the dapper fucking journalist stepped out into the light.
Frazer bolted. In a flash he gathered up the reporter and sank his fangs into the man’s neck. He held the man like a shield to his body. If the vampire thought it would stop any of them, he was sorely mistaken. Andres charged from one side, while Ezra came at him from the other. Father Douglas ran after the group as well, pulling something from his waist as he went.
Van Kleve swayed in Frazer’s arms like a rag doll. His eyes were closed as blood seeped into the collar of his shirt from the puncture wound at his neck. Ezra took a moment to study the man. Van Kleve’s heart still beat, but barely. It would be a miracle if he survived this night without any permanent damage. As long as Bennett didn’t feed Van Kleve his blood, they wouldn’t have anything to worry about.
“It’s useless,” Ezra growled. “We will bring you in.”
Bennett laughed. “You’ll do nothing of the sort.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Ezra spotted the priest coming up behind Frazer. The silver chain in his hands glinted in the low light of the gas lanterns. “We don’t want to fight.”
“Too bad, I do.” Bennett bit his wrist then lifted it to van Kleve’s mouth. “Drink. Take from me and allow me to make you anew.”
Without hesitation, the reporter did as commanded. Van Kleve swallowed several times. His soft moans drew Frazer’s attention, allowing Father Douglas to attack. He
wrapped the silver around Bennett’s neck. The god-awful scream torn from his throat as he dropped the writer to the ground rang in Ezra’s ears. He could get no closer than he was. Already the silver irritated Ezra’s throat and eyes. His skin itched.
“Quick now,” Father Douglas called out. “We must wrap his hands and feet, bind him so he is powerless.”
“We need to bring him back to the mansion,” Ezra said, taking another step back. “I’ll meet you there. I can’t be near the sliver.”
“Van Kleve?” Emmitt questioned.
“I will carry him.”
Lawson picked up the unconscious man and brought him to Ezra. “Go, we will bring Frazer back to the mansion.”
“Safe travels,” Ezra said then turned to leave.
Chapter Eight
When Clara woke, the first thing she noticed was the house was unnaturally quiet. It could only mean one thing. The hunt was afoot. Perhaps the Dreadfuls would get lucky this time, returning with Fraser.
Once could hope.
Clara quickly washed up then dressed for the day. She reattached her arm with a simple click before making a fist. Charlie had retooled her arm several times in the last few months. He’d adjusted the fasteners, allowing for easier removal when she wanted. She’d have no need for the new one tonight, since had no plans to shift. Truth be told, whatever happened tonight, she’d be more comfortable with this device than the other. Steam puffed from the vents as it powered up. Within seconds she was able to move her elbow and arm. Charlie was a mechanical genius.
After quietly checking on the children, Clara made her way down to the library. Instinct told her they would have need of her magic tonight. In what capacity, she did not know. Clara just knew she had to be prepared. After the tracking spell had failed to bring results, the only way to fix this would be to bind Frazer. Clara had been researching and working on such a spell. It would have to be similar to the one they had used on Jonah a year ago to heal him, yet different. This one would have to be stronger and instead of healing it would have to weaken Frazer.