Rusk frowned. “That’s him?”
I nodded.
Matilda opened her eyes. Jacques placed a gentle hand on her cheek. “Is he dead?”
Jacques shook his head. “Not yet. When he reappears, he’ll be much weaker though. He sustained a lot of injuries and turned to a blood mist. Both have sapped his energy.”
“Which means he’ll need to feed,” I said softly.
Father nodded.
Matilda coughed. “I’m okay. You need to help them slay Raginwulf. His carnage ends tonight.”
Jacques leaned down and kissed her lips. Gently, he set her down on the cobblestone and rose to his feet. We stood as a united front while Esmeralda and the woman watched over the infant.
Chapter Forty
A half hour passed before Raginwulf’s form began materializing. From what I could see, all his injuries were gone, but he was still in an in-between state.
I gripped my stake and took a step forward.
Jacques grabbed my shoulder and shook his head. “No, Forrest, allow me. I deserve this honor.”
I glanced toward Matilda. She lay in human form with her eyes closed, but her bleeding had stopped. Her skin slowly stitched together. I understood his need for revenge, not just for what had happened to his love, but for the previous taunting encounters with Raginwulf. I nodded.
Jacques smiled. “Thanks.”
He hurried to the other side of the fountain. His claws lengthened. The moment the vampire was in solid form, his body was intact without obvious injuries. Jacques clutched Raginwulf by the throat and growled. He brought back his left clawed hand to drive the claws deeply into the vampire’s gut, but before he inflicted the painful blow, he was knocked off his feet and into the water fountain.
Growls emerged over the loud thrashes in the water. When Jacques rose to his feet, he wasn’t alone. Luther stood with him and flailed a mighty fist into Jacques’ jaw, knocking Jacques into the air. Jacques’ back crashed onto an empty bench, splintering it. He groaned in pain and rolled with the momentum.
“Luther!” Rusk yelled. “What are you doing?”
“What I came here to do,” he replied. “Either Jacques yields to me or he dies, but since he’s unable to even protect Matilda, it’s doubtful he can stop me.”
Raginwulf laughed and his attention turned toward Esmeralda.
Rusk growled and headed toward Jacques. “By attacking him before he has slain the vampire, you’ve proven that you’re incapable of leading a pack, Luther. You’re a mongrel, unworthy of what the rest of us are.”
“Hold your tongue, whelp,” Luther said. Two more werewolves stood behind him. I assumed they were the ones waiting at the dock earlier in the day. “Or I kill you next.”
Raginwulf walked around the corner of the fountain with a nonchalant strut. He was moments from reaching Esmeralda. Since she was already injured, I doubted she had the strength to fend him off.
I pulled my silver cross dagger from its sheath and flung it. The dagger blade pierced through the right side of his chest, inches beneath his shoulder. He winced and turned to the side, trying to yank the blade out. It must have struck bone because he was having difficulty pulling it free. His vest burst into flames where the silver touched his flesh. He patted out the flames but dropped to his knees from the pain. When he tugged at the cross again, his hand singed, but instead of releasing it, he used his pain to his advantage and yanked the blade out.
He turned toward me with hatred gleaming in his crimson eyes. “Hunter, you die for this.”
Raginwulf rose to his feet in an almost gliding movement. I held a stake tightly, expecting him to propel forward and attack me. Instead, Albert slinked up behind the vampire.
“I warned you what would happen should our paths cross again,” Albert said.
Raginwulf turned with widened eyes. Before he could reply, flee, or attack, Albert bit the vampire’s shoulder hard with his gnarled rat teeth. Raginwulf jerked free of the bite and staggered away, slumping to the ground. He fell face forward onto the cobblestone. Black pustules rose on his face and hands, his skin graying. He writhed and rolled. Blood leaked from his eyes, his ears, and his mouth. Seconds later, he burst into flames and turned to ash as though he’d been staked through the heart.
“Let him be, Luther!” Rusk shouted. He ran toward Luther but the other two werewolves grabbed Rusk and held his arms behind his back, preventing him from helping Jacques.
Jacques rose to his feet. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth. Luther struck him in the chest, knocking Jacques to the ground. He kicked Jacques in the stomach several times.
“See?” Luther said. “You’re not an Alpha. Yield to me and live.”
“Never,” Jacques said, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
“Either way, Matilda is mine,” Luther said with wildness in his eyes. He hung his long werewolf tongue out and licked the air.
Jacques’ eyes narrowed. He went to all fours, trying to push himself to his feet, but Luther kicked Jacques in the side of the head, sending my cousin spiraling into the air. He landed with a hard bounce, but still tried to get up.
Jacques growled. His muscles swelled. He raked his long claws across the cobblestone. Fury darkened his eyes.
Luther grinned at him, taunting him. Jacques rushed Luther, leapt over six feet into the air. He plummeted toward Luther, slashed across Luther’s face, and ripping out an eye. Luther howled in immediate pain.
Before Jacques steadied himself, Luther plunged his claws into Jacques gut. Jacques’ eyes widened. He gripped Luther’s wrists and shoved himself free of the claws. Luther struck Jacques in the face, over and over. Jacques dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach, but holding his head down in defeat.
Luther laughed and extended his sharp claws longer. He walked toward Jacques.
“Forrest!” Rusk said. “Do something! He’s going to kill Jacques!”
Luther gazed at me with a devious smile. He showed his teeth and flexed his hands, revealing his sharp claws. “Yes, Forrest, do something. I dare you. It would be nice to have a Hunter in my pack after I kill Jacques.”
My jaw tightened, but Father grabbed my shoulder before I could walk toward him. “No, Forrest, all he needs to do is bite or claw you to make you like him.”
I jerked free of my father’s hold. “I’m aware of that, but he won’t do that.”
Luther turned toward me with a broader, hungrier smile. “Try me.”
I shook my head. An instant later I aimed and fired before he noticed the gun in my hand. The silver bullet struck him in the chest. His eyes revealed the slight moment of fear before he collapsed on the street, dead. I turned and aimed toward the two werewolves holding Rusk. “The bullets are silver. Let Rusk go or which one of you wants to be next?”
They released Rusk and held their hands before them, signifying peace. They walked to Jacques and helped my cousin to his feet. When Jacques stood on his own, both werewolves knelt before him, bowing their heads
Jacques shook his head and walked toward me, holding his stomach with his left hand. He wiped blood from his mouth. “Thanks, cousin, but I was wearing him down.”
Matilda groaned, and Jacques hurried to her. Her wounds had healed, at least on the surface, but she was weak and pale. He hoisted her into his arms.
“It’s time we get back indoors,” he said. “She needs food and water.”
I nodded, picked up my silver cross dagger, and walked to Esmeralda who hugged Varak. Albert stood beside me. Her eyes regarded him with great fear. I smiled at her. “I told you that we’d keep the child safe. You no longer have to worry about Raginwulf.”
A kind smile appeared on her aged face. “I thank you for doing so.”
I studied her for a few moments, wondering what spell she was attempting. I felt magic leap from her toward me, which seemed odd since we had just saved her life and the infant’s.
“While it’s doubtful,” I said, “that another vampire will come to take Va
rak from you, I’d like to leave a gift with you to help protect him.”
I extended my hand, offering my silver cross. Her eyes widened, and she backed against the bench. While she had mentioned she wasn’t a Christian other than having to choose a side, I wondered if her claims to magic prohibited her from taking a cross. I held the cross loosely on my palm, but she didn’t reach for it. Albert smacked my elbow hard, jarring the cross off my hand. It dropped on her lap, immediately causing her to hand Varak to the nurse.
Esmeralda came at me with her fangs exposed. She was a vampire? How? I had seen her holding a cross weeks before. I had only a moment to grab her by her shoulders and twist her off balance. She fell to the ground on her back, but before she could move, I plunged a stake through her heart. She withered and crumbled to ash.
“Forrest!” Father shouted. “Behind you!”
I turned to see the wet-nurse put the child on the bench. Her face distorted as she gnashed her fangs. She, too, came at me, but Albert bit her, making her suffer the same fate as Raginwulf. Perplexed, I regarded Albert. “They were both vampires? How?”
He shrugged and took the baby into his arms. “It’s difficult to say since they’re both ash now.”
“And you?” I said. “Why did they die after you bit them?”
Albert smiled. “Although the vampires saved me from the plague, I carry it in my blood. I’ve never known why, but my bite is poisonous to vampires, perhaps due to the curse my former lover had bestowed upon me? After all, she had thought I’d die in prison but when I was cured of the plague, the curse she had placed upon me held untold effects. Maybe because the vampires had saved me she ensured a way they’d never help me again and instead, keep us as enemies for the remainder of my long life.”
“And what about the child?” I asked. “Do you think he’s the reason Esmeralda became a vampire? And the lady who nursed him?”
“It’s doubtful they were turned by this infant. I noticed the infatuation they held for the child, but he’s not old enough to turn mortals into the undead. Besides, he doesn’t have fangs, yet, and they’d have to have partaken of his blood, not to mention be drained by him beforehand.”
That made sense. But at what point and by whom were they turned? The truth behind this secret would probably always evade me. I had seen Esmeralda carry a cross, but not for quite some time. At some point after our first meeting, she had chosen to become a vampire? Or perhaps Trenton had sired the wet-nurse and she turned Esmeralda? But until this moment, I never really thought about the fact we had never seen Esmeralda in the sunlight, only in the night or in the darkness of the tunnels.
Rusk and the other two werewolves hurried from the square down the main street where I suspected they’d find a secluded place to revert to their human forms and sleep until morning.
The rest of us walked at a modest pace down the main street toward Whitechapel.
“With Esmeralda and the lady being vampires, how many of the other Gypsies here are vampires?” I asked.
“Perhaps none,” Albert said.
“I never sensed either to be vampires when normally I do.”
“Magic can mask many things,” he replied. “But as I have already mentioned, the child wasn’t the one who turned them. I’d wager they sought out a vampire secretly. He might have mentally projected such a thought upon them.”
“Why?”
“To ensure they had the strength to protect Varak.”
“She had befriended Trenton. Do you suppose he turned them?”
Albert grinned at the suggestion. “That makes the most sense except she’d have died after Trenton was slain.”
I frowned. “That’s true.”
“Perhaps it was a friend of Trenton though,” Albert said.
“After Trenton was killed, we received a reward. It’s possible Esmeralda left it.”
“Doubtful.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t have money to offer such a reward.”
“Then I wonder who?”
“My guess,” Father said, “is Warren.”
“The reporter?”
Father nodded.
“Why would he have offered it?”
“Perhaps as an incentive for you to hunt down and slay more vampires.”
In a way, that sounded reasonable enough. And since his body was found with the fiddler, both had connections with Esmeralda. For all I knew, Esmeralda had sent Warren with Trenton to study how effective I was as a Hunter, not that any of it even mattered now. What worried me was not knowing how both women had become vampires and who had sired them.
“What should we do with this child?” Jacques asked, carrying Matilda in his arms.
“He will mature into a dangerous adversary,” I said.
Albert held the child close to his chest and nodded. “No doubt. His fate of what he is has been sealed. Nothing we do can change that he’s a half-blood. Give me through the night to make a decision.”
“Are you contemplating to keep him as you have the boys?” I asked.
“Heavens no. I do not wish to have the responsibility of his future terrors placed upon me.”
“Then why not kill him?” Jacques asked bluntly. It was a question I had pondered but was too ashamed to ask.
Obvious hurt creased Albert’s face. “While such is the most probable thing to do, who amongst you could do such a thing and not go insane? Certainly, I cannot.”
“Nor I,” Jacques said.
“You think because I’m a rat, I’m capable?”
“No, I—”
“It is why you asked,” Albert said softly. “You need to remember. I’m a rat on the outside, but my thoughts and my heart will always be human because that’s what I was before the curse. But, I sense the child’s undertones, too. He will wreak untold havoc somewhere in the world.”
“Then what do you propose?” Jacques asked.
“I will inform you tomorrow.”
Chapter Forty-One
The sun had hardly risen when someone knocked fiercely upon our door.
With my eyes heavy with sleep, I staggered toward the door and pulled it open. “Constable Shields? Good morning. Come in.”
He studied me for a few moments. “That’s quite a bruise you have.”
I rubbed my jaw. “It was much worse last night.” And truthfully, it had been.
Father rose from his chair, shook Jacques and Matilda, and returned to his chair.
“No new murders last night,” Shields said. He looked relieved. “I’m hoping you have good news?”
“As a matter of fact,” I replied. “The vampire is no more.”
Shields cleared his throat. “This . . . vampire . . . is the fiend responsible for the brutal murders? You’re certain of this?”
I nodded.
Shields looked past me to Jacques. Jacques nodded, but Matilda remained deep in sleep. She might sleep for most of the day after enduring the severe injuries from last night. At least she had eaten well before falling asleep.
The constable took a deep breath and sighed. “I don’t mean to sound doubtful, and I truly hope he was the murderer. After all the stress and nights without sleep, it’s almost hard to accept it’s over.”
Jacques offered a reassuring smile. “I understand. It will probably take a few days, maybe even several weeks, before you are more at ease.”
Tears came to the constable’s eyes. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be at ease again. Ordeals like these are living nightmares. I cannot imagine anything worse. With your news, I can put in my request for my holiday. I need time away from detective work. And I thank you for offering your services to stop the murders.”
He reached inside his jacket pocket and removed an envelope, handing it to me.
“What is this?”
“Reward money, though I offer it in secret,” he replied. “I cannot publicly acknowledge you’ve killed Jack the Ripper since we have no proof of a body.”
I shook my head, not ta
king the envelope. “We cannot—”
He forced the envelope into my hand. “Please. You must. I trust you. I know you’ve never mislead me, and that early on I disrespected your wishes by telling the reporter about what you do.”
“All is forgiven,” I replied.
“Still, the money is yours. I expect you’ll be leaving London soon. You’ll need money to travel, especially since you’ve probably spent a small fortune lodging in this inn.”
Father nudged me. “Take it.”
“Thank you,” I said with an embarrassed smile.
“Have you ever encountered Warren?” Shields asked. “I’ve not seen him in quite some time.”
Jacques glanced at me and then to the constable. “We’ve not spoken to him in a long time, either.”
“Perhaps he’s taken holiday,” Shields said. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. Do you know where you’ll venture next?”
“Matilda and I are sailing to America,” Jacques said.
“Father and I haven’t made any solid plans yet,” I replied.
Shields opened the door and smiled. “Wherever you end up, perhaps you can send me a post now and again. I’d be interested in your endeavors. Thanks for all your help.”
Without waiting our replies, he pulled the door closed and was gone.
“John,” Jacques said. “Do you mind keeping watch on Matilda for a while?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Forrest and I need to visit Albert and see what decision he’s arrived at.”
Father smiled and nodded. “Afraid I’ll slow you down, eh?”
“No, it’s—”
“It’s okay, Jacques. Getting there without me is much faster. Besides, Matilda needs her rest. You two hurry. I’ll be interested in what news you bring back, and I’m ready to leave London. The sooner the better.”
I gave Father a smile.
Jacques grabbed his clothes to dress. “I never imagined you were such a good shot with the gun.”
“I’ve not practiced as much as I’d have liked.”
Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter [Book 2]: Blood Mists of London Page 27