Jack - A Grim Reaper Romance

by Calista Taylor

  “I’ll do what I can to help you, but I still do not think I’ll be of much use.” Lilly pulled herself out of Mason’s arms, his warmth lingering upon her skin as if it were kissed by sunlight. She glanced around not certain what she was looking for, and thought it all an exercise in futility. “Certainly the Elders must have better ways of tracking Jack.”

  “Unfortunately, Jack’s mastered certain skills which make that difficult for us. Mason shook his head, his mouth pursed in frustration. “We suspect he’s long planned on leaving this life and would not want to be found. We have trackers, but he’s managed to avoid detection.”

  “Is it even possible for one to mask their whereabouts against a tracker? If it were so easy a thing to accomplish, you’d have half your reapers missing.” Could she leave this life once and for all? She’d never thought it an option.

  “It’s not an easy skill to develop, and even more difficult to master, but Jack’s always been far more accomplished than most, and he’s now using it to his advantage. He’s intelligent and talented enough, despite being a fool.”

  “A fool indeed, considering the mess he’s currently in.”

  Lilly wondered how long he’d been planning his escape. He had likely started to develop the skills he’d need to avoid being tracked before their relations started—and yet he’d never said a word. Perhaps she was the fool here.

  Would he have told her when the time came for him to leave? Or would he have vanished without a word, leaving her to wonder what became of him? Years together and not once did he hint at his plans.

  Mason ran a hand down her arm, as if sensing the betrayal and hurt she felt. “He was never worthy of your affections, Lilly.”

  She shrugged his hand off, not wanting to be touched. It was more proof that she could no longer trust her own judgment, and it left her feeling uneasy and unsettled. She needed to regain some control, needed to think of herself, and Jack be damned.

  Jack knew how much she hated being a reaper and yet he never mentioned his plans to get away from it all. Well, if he was only going to look out for himself, then she’d do the same.

  “If I help, will you make sure I can move on from being a reaper? Even if we don’t catch Jack?” Though she got the words out, her body was stiff with emotions too close to the surface.

  “You have my word that I’ll do all I can to make it possible.”

  “You’ll excuse my saying so, but it doesn’t sound like a guaranteed thing, Mason.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “I will not lie to you, love. You know what the Elders are like. Nothing’s guaranteed, but I’ll do my damndest to use whatever means I have to influence them. It’s your only chance, aye?”

  “Fine.” She was annoyed and frustrated, but concentrated on the prize at hand and how to accomplish it. She’d need to prove Jack’s role in the murders—innocent or guilty.

  Mason wandered about the room. She needed some space and he was smart enough to give it to her. “Look for anything that’s different from your time together or anything that doesn’t quite fit.”

  “Have you not already looked around? It’s been a week since the murder.”

  His laugh eased some of the tension she was holding onto. “You’re the only one who would have the audacity to question me.”

  It had been rather of bold of her, but she did not care. “Well, then?”

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, a smile on his lips and his eyes aflame with such energy and passion, she had to look away.

  “I had a cursory look around when the murder first occurred, but there were other more promising leads. Pierce came through here also, but he had little luck finding anything. Still, it’s worth having a look around, especially since you’re here.”

  “I’m surprised I have yet to see Pierce since this all started. You must be working him hard.”

  It had been a while since Lilly had last seen Mason’s lieutenant, her relationship with him a peculiar one. Pierce seemed to tolerate her for Mason’s sake, but she knew he’d rather have Mason all to himself. Still, they’d developed enough of a friendship. She liked his wry sense of humor and the fact that he always kept Mason honest, calling him to task if need be.

  “I’m afraid there’s no rest for any of us until this is over.”

  Resigning herself, Lilly took in all the small details of the room, trying to remember if anything had changed. Compared to most homes, this one was relatively sparse and for the most part utilitarian, void of frills and frivolity—just like Jack. She noted the mantel above the fireplace; a small clock, a candle stick, and a painting of a hunt scene, hanging on the wall.

  His favorite chair, a dresser, and a tall wardrobe were all just as she remembered them. She thought of pulling open the drawers, but despite everything, she still couldn’t bring herself to rifle through his things. Not that Mason had any qualms.

  While Mason went through the wardrobe, Lilly went to the nightstand by the bed on the side Jack slept. A picture of Jack and his family sat there in a gilded frame. It was not one she’d seen before, and she could not help but pick it up to take a closer look. Jack stood by his wife’s side—a pretty young woman with dark locks—and a young boy no older than three. Even though Jack’s appearance was altered from the one she knew, there was no mistaking the soul behind the eyes.

  She knew that leaving behind a child could break one’s heart, and Jack had been a devoted father. It must have been difficult to watch their lives change drastically for the worse and not be able to do a thing about it.

  She pushed her melancholy away, for it’d be too easy for it to overtake her. Turning to the matter at hand for distraction, she pulled open the drawer to the nightstand, knowing Jack used it nightly for putting away his personal effects. It contained few items. A pair of keys, an old pipe with a small tin of tobacco, and a silver fob watch she had not seen before. The pipe was one Jack used often, the scent so familiar.

  She picked up the watch, the silver cold and heavy in her hand, the surface elaborately engraved. Depressing the button at the top, the front of the watch popped open to reveal a mother of pearl face, and an inscription on the inside of the cover.

  For showing me the world’s wonders.

  It was an expensive gift, though nothing compared to the world’s wonders, Lilly mused. She wondered who gave it to Jack. Perhaps it was from his wife before he passed, though it showed few signs of wear.

  She opened the tin of tobacco and was surprised to find a ring—one that once adorned her finger. The silver band was dotted with sapphires and had been a gift from Jack. She had insisted on returning it to him when they parted, not wanting to keep such an expensive gift. He’d not been happy about taking it back, but she’d been adamant.

  It was odd that he would have it stashed with his tobacco, since it was something he used regularly and the ring could easily get lost. Trying not to give it much thought or credence, she returned the tin and pipe to its place with a sigh. Grabbing the keys and watch since they might be important, she went to Mason’s side.

  He was crouched down before the wardrobe, banging on the sides and bottom, as he looked over his shoulder at her. “Have you had any luck?”

  “Nothing much, though short of finding a bloody knife, I have no idea what I’m looking for.”

  “We’ll check the rest of the rooms, but I half suspected if we were to find anything, it would have been here.” He stood and brushed his hands, a stray lock falling carelessly before his eyes.

  Lilly’s showed Mason the items she’d taken. “I don’t remember him keeping keys in his drawer before, and I don’t recall the watch, though it may be that he just never wore it.”

  He took the watch, popped it open and then clicked it closed before picking up the keys and fingering through them, the sound of brass clanging together. “Do you recognize where they might go to?”

  “No. Did I not warn you I’d be of no help?”

  “They may still come in handy
.” Mason wandered towards the other end of the room, and then paused, his head now tilted to one side. He shifted his weight back and forth from one leg to the other.

  Lilly watched as he crouched down, flicked over the corner of the rug, and started tapping on the floor boards. “What are you doing?”

  He leaned towards the floorboards while rapping his knuckles on the wood, a smile upon his lips.

  “Every man needs a hiding place, love.” He pulled away a loosened plank. “And Jack is no different.”

  Lilly’s heart raced as she watched Mason reach in and pull out a leather wrapped bundle. He loosened the thong that held it closed, and laid it open, the metal gleaming in the light as a gasp escaped her lips.

  Mason looked at her in question. “You were saying?” Though the bundle held a variety of bizarre instruments, her eyes fell upon the long blade in the middle.

  A long blade, its wooden handle stained dark from blood now washed away.

  Chapter Seven

  London, August 31, 1888

  Jack watched from a distance as she worked the street. There were two of them, chatting on the corner as they waited for someone to show some interest. Neither was young, though a life like this was certain to age a person. As a physician, Jack knew the toll poverty could take on a body, and these whores had it even worse, prone to things like syphilis even if they managed to survive the dangers of the streets.

  Indeed, one of the two whores present would need not worry about life’s necessities much longer, for tonight would be her last upon this earth. Of that there was no doubt.

  Jack had been drawn to this area like he had that first night, too weak to stay away, even when he knew he should keep his distance. It was beyond him to deny the pull, for it was a matter of blood, and blood could not be denied.

  It was happening again. Jack’s heart raced and a sweat broke out across his forehead and down his spine, his gut feeling like a belly full of live eels.

  She moved away from her friend, and down the dark alley. He approached, and lured her further away from the main street, where they would not be seen or heard.

  Jack thought about stopping it—thought about putting an end to the madness. An end to it all.

  But in the end, Jack could not. For again, it was a matter of blood.

  Chapter Eight

  Lilly struggled awake, surprised to find Mason in her bedroom in the middle of the night. His words ricocheted around her head, tearing through her soul.

  “It cannot be, Mason.” She refused to believe him. Squinting at the light, her eyes had yet to adjust from being asleep. She looked over at the clock by her bedside. Half past four in the morning.

  “Gods help us if this is just the start of it all. Another prostitute in Whitechapel, brutally stabbed a countless number of times. Once again, the woman died before her time, and I cannot even fathom the effect this may have.”

  Each word left Lilly more lightheaded than the one before. She knew Mason had spent weeks trying to find Jack with little luck—weeks she’d done her best to avoid Mason’s charms and his bed. Lilly had hoped Jack had left London, gone as far away as possible, so the nightmare could come to an end. And for a while she believed he’d done just that.

  “I know not how to find him, Mason. Have the trackers still not had any luck?”

  “He’s still evading capture. There’s something else I want to try, but we’ll need to hurry. There’s only a short period of time before the energy fades.” He pulled the covers back and hauled her to feet. “Would you make haste?”

  Lilly shrugged her arm out of his grasp, her chest tight with dread. “Please, Mason. I don’t know if I can witness such brutality again. I know I agreed to help, but there must be some other way. I have not the stomach or heart for it.”

  Mason locked eyes with hers. “I’d not put you through this if there was another option, but there is not. This can only be accomplished by one who’s been… close… to the reaper who’s left his essence.”

  Her eyebrows perked in question. “You mean someone who’s had relations with the reaper.” She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a chill, her linen nightgown doing little to keep her warm.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.” He cupped her face and brushed a thumb across her cheek. “And you, my dear, are the only reaper with that honor.”

  ***

  Lilly turned into Mason’s shoulder and swallowed her rising bile, their presence hidden and their actions neither seen nor heard. Mason ran a hand down her back, but with such brutality, nothing could soothe her. She squeezed her eyes shut, mentally searching the area, and true enough, Jack’s essence was there on the body.

  “I’m sorry to ask you such a thing, but I must. Please take a look and see if there’s anything that stands out to you.” Mason’s voice was firm, though sympathetic and kind.

  They had not gone to the scene of the murder, but instead stood with the coroner. The poor woman lay on a long table her body stripped of her clothing, the blood washed away. The metallic tang of blood hung thick in the air, the room cold and bone chillingly damp.

  The coroner started his inquest, unaware of their presence. He started by noting the wounds to the woman’s body so his apprentice could record their findings.

  “All injuries appear to have been made by the same instrument, a long bladed knife, relatively sharp, with each cut delivered in a violent manner.” He ran his fingertips over her neck. “The victim’s throat has been slashed, not once but twice, the wounds so deep they nearly sever her head from her body. A bruise can be found running along her jaw on the right side of her face.”

  He proceeded to examine the rest of her body as he gave his findings. “Several incisions run across the abdomen. One is deep and jagged enough to cut through the tissue beneath. Three, no, four more violent downward slashes cut the right side of the abdomen. All injuries appear to have been made from left to right, as if from a left-handed person.”

  Lilly’s breath hitched when she heard those last words—Jack was indeed left handed. Though there may have been more in the coroner’s report, Lilly heard none of it. “I need to go, Mason. Please.”

  Something in her voice spoke of her desperation, for he did not argue with her, and escorted her out to his carriage. He gave his driver an address and then settled back in his seat, pulling Lilly into his arms. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  She sat up and turned to look at him. “Are you? Because I didn’t see the point of it. Even if I notice things about the murder, how does that get us any closer to Jack?”

  Mason shrugged but did not meet her eyes. “It doesn’t.”

  She felt as if she might be ill as the realization settled in. “But it does build your case against him.”

  “Yes.”

  At least he was honest with her. “Why bother, Mason? Since when do the Elders need to build a case against anyone? They just do as they like.”

  “Lilly, I’ll be honest with you, because I don’t want deception and half-truths to ruin our friendship.” His words sent her pulse thudding inside her ears, as she anticipated the worst. “With a crime of this magnitude, we’re not dealing only with the murders of these women and the consequences their deaths will have. As a reaper committing the murders, he puts us all in jeopardy—he could change the history of all that has yet to come. The fabric of fate will have holes torn in it as the future is changed. If Jack’s responsible for these untimely deaths, they’ll do more than execute him, Lilly. They’ll send his soul to be tormented for an eternity. He’ll be made an example of.”

  A cold sweat trickled down her back as his words sank in. “And you want me to help you curse him for all of time? I loved him, Mason. How could you involve me in such a thing? This goes far beyond simply helping you find him.” She shook her head in disbelief. “They’ll condemn him without ever giving him a fair trial. This changes everything.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to say, I have no choice, love, and nei
ther do you.”

  Needing some distance, Lilly shifted over and sat back, still unable to comprehend it all. Once again she felt betrayed, this time by Mason. And by Jack. Those poor women—dead. She could not comprehend how the man she once loved could be involved in such heinous crimes. She tried her best to steel herself for what would come and it was not long before the carriage stopped in the neighborhood of Whitechapel, near Buck’s Row.

  Lilly said not a word and ignored Mason’s offered hand to help her from the carriage, stepping out onto the cobbles. He sighed, but said nothing.

  “What is it you want then?” Lilly turned towards him with her arms crossed in front of her chest and a cold hard stare, her mood still sour after Mason’s revelation.