Lucious’ eyes narrowed on the advancing duo. “Master Vincent…”
“Lucious,” Vincent replied, and the energy absorbed slowly back into the elder’s body.
Once Lucious was free, he crossed his arms. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your seeking me out?”
“You are on my territory, Byron,” Lucas said as he faced him. “You were banished from my pack and now you believe it is a good idea to anger the hunters under my nose?”
Byron snorted. “Banished? I left to get away from you and your bloody control. I never took a blood oath, so I owe you nothing.”
Vincent cleared his throat and focused his icy stare on Lucious. “Did you find anything out about the wedding?”
Lucious chuckled. It was just like the Council to know everything that went on in London, even if he wanted to keep this out of their grasp. He faced the Councilman head on. “No, I did not. Not yet.”
“I see…” Vincent inclined his head and looked at the nursery. “May I talk to him?”
“Be my guest,” Lucious said. “I was about to go see someone.”
“Helena, I presume.” Vincent’s attention travelled to Lucious’ chest, and he raised a questioning brow.
Lucious shrugged. “Yes, and I believe that is a private matter. I’m not keen on sharing the information with the Council.”
After a long pause and a battle of stares, Vincent smiled and took a step towards the nursery. “Lucas and I will look into the wedding. I would much prefer it if you returned by sunrise, Lucious, as Lucas’ men will be bringing more hunters here.”
“And what is it you want from me?” Lucious asked, although he already knew the answer.
“The Ripper’s return, of course.”
6
The Ripper
Nestled in the bowels of London city were the Council’s Archives—a building tourists came to see every day and marvel at its beauty. Helena recognised the abbey from the news broadcasts she had seen plenty a time on TV. She stood on a wide footpath with fenced off grassy patches on either side of it. The gothic structure basked in the yellow light that highlighted the enormity of its arched entrances and the rose window above. Flying buttresses connected to the main tower as if rows of hands were placed together in prayer to God. This building was too good for the Council to stash their paperwork and old books.
“You’re kidding, right?” Helena slapped her hand to her hip. “This is Westminster Abbey.”
“Yes,” Levile replied.
“Yes, you’re kidding, or yes this is the abbey the royals get married and crowned in?”
Levile placed his hand on the small of her back and pushed her forwards. “Please come this way, Miss Hawthorn.”
Helena begrudgingly put one foot in front of the other. At the doors, once Levile inclined his head, the guard opened the heavy wooden obstruction with little effort. Upon closer inspection, it was a ghoul guarding the entrance. The energy around the wrinkled man didn’t seem strong enough to belong to a vampire.
Their eyes met, and Helena looked away, eager to focus on something other than the curious gaze of a member of Eliza’s undead army, which was why she proceeded inside after Vincent’s childe.
She was stuck for words as she entered the sacred place. The vaulted ceiling came together in sharp, ribbed arches. Arrow-shaped crystal chandeliers threatened the shadows’ claim on the space between huge pillars that supported the roof.
Without batting an eye, Levile steered her to the right, guiding her through another doorway and then immediately turning left. Helena struggled to keep up. She kept putting off jogging for another day, and it seemed that she needed Maya back as an instructor from Hell. Without her, no workouts were going to happen.
Helena snorted when she was faced with a dark winding staircase that led to what appeared to be the depths of the earth. Her workout had arrived. “Are we going down?”
“Yes.” Levile took the lamp off the hook on the stone wall.
She hated high places. As she looked over the edge, her heart quickened. “It’s what…five storeys?”
“Six, and please, come this way.” Levile motioned for her to follow.
Helena tore her eyes away from the dark pit beneath the abbey. “Does Her Majesty know about this?”
“Indeed. The monarchs of this country have been involved with Eliza since Henry VIII. If I recall correctly, Elizabeth I and Eliza had tea on Sundays when the circumstances permitted it. Even the current Elizabeth tends to see her now and again for a favour or two. It is too bad the royal control over the nation has dwindled as more power was released to the parliament.”
Helena caught up to him and eyed his face for anything that would indicate he was joking. He wasn’t. His face remained as emotionless as a smooth piece of marble. “Elizabeth I knew about this?”
“Yes. She was considered to be an illegitimate child of Henry’s at the time. I never liked the man, too egotistical. With the struggle between Mary and Elizabeth eventually commencing over the throne, Elizabeth needed help. So, she gave this abbey to the Council as payment for Eliza’s support and help thereafter.”
“I thought vampires would have stayed away from public figures such as royalty…”
“It is such humans who help us remain unnoticed in today’s society. Without strong media and political pull, we would have been in the open the minute social media exploded amidst your kind,” he added.
They stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Levile wasn’t as bad as she had pegged him to be. He became stiff if the subject had anything to do with his sire, but, beyond that, he seemed to act like a proper gentleman.
He placed the lamp on a hook by the door. After he took out a set of keys from his trousers pocket, he slotted the first key into the top lock, turning it three times before a heavy bolt shifted inside. He did the same with another three locks and stepped back.
The door made a final click and the mechanisms contained within replaced the sound of her breathing with ticking and turning of cogs. It glided open and fluorescent lights blinked on, illuminating the white corridor.
“This way,” Levile said, taking her hand in his.
His chilled fingers sent an unpleasant shudder through her, but she avoided voicing her complaint and proceeded after him. The door behind them didn’t move, even though she expected it to close by itself.
“Aren’t you worried someone will come in here?” she asked.
Levile raised an amused brow. “In the middle of the night? No human would be daft enough to break in. Even if they did, there are guards stationed around the perimeter to…help them go back the way they came.”
A sting of the cold air snuck into her jacket sleeves as they emerged in a colosseum-like chamber lined with shelves instead of stone seats. The lights were no longer the cheap halogen bulbs but dusty brass pendant bowl chandeliers with blue flames dancing at their core.
“The lights…” she said in awe.
“That’s witchlight. It is a rare treat these days. Eliza summoned a Circle of witches to cast an eternal light spell on the chandeliers sometime in the late 1600s. To this day, not one faded.”
They stood there, admiring the lights for a short while. He smiled then led her past the rows of oak desks with plush red chairs and tables with wooden benches towards the steps that led to the next level. At the top, she looked over her shoulder, admiring the endless sea of leather-bound books from different ages. On the level above, she frowned when the shelves were filled with boxes instead.
“What’s up there?” she asked.
“The yearly account of every vampire under the Council’s protection. A vampire must come here once a year and fill out their details.” Levile measured his strides to match her pace around the circular path. The sound of their footsteps was absorbed by the dark-green carpet.
Helena perked up, already curious about the workings of the Council. “What kind of details?”
“How many lives they’ve taken, names of the v
ictims, means, places they had been to. Much of that information is needed to help us keep the possible witnesses quiet.”
“So, you threaten them?”
“No. We amend their memories of the events,” he corrected her and pointed to the shelves on the right, next to the step ladder. “The Council’s books on other supernatural beings begin here. I suggest starting with the second shelf from the bottom.”
Hugging her middle for warmth, Helena trudged to the selected shelf. She settled on the carpet with her legs tucked underneath her and pulled the books out, one by one. Something slid over her shoulders and wrapped around her arms and back. When she looked up, she found Levile’s suit jacket there. As she opened her mouth to thank him, she realised she was left alone.
Helena lowered a stack of books next to her and slipped her arms through the sleeves of the jacket. How long is it going to take me to get through these tomes?
She must have fallen asleep because she felt like she was floating. Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, Helena focused on the face of the person carrying her. Her breath caught in her throat when she identified Lucious.
“Hey,” she whispered.
His expression remained guarded as he manufactured a smile. “Good evening, my dear. I’m sorry I woke you. I thought bringing you down here would be more comfortable.” He crossed the remaining distance to one of the benches on the ground floor of the library and settled her on his lap. Strong arms held her close. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled. “I have missed your scent.”
Helena shifted enough to see his tired face. Although the link remained unmoving, she knew he was shutting out his emotions. The joy that launched her heart into tango quickly faded and was replaced with immediate concern. “What’s wrong?”
Avoiding her question, he scanned the library. “Where is my childe?”
“He left.” Helena sat up straighter. “Now answer my question, Lucious.”
“What do you mean he left? Why on earth did you come here alone?” he asked, his voice rising.
Helena tried to climb out of his lap, but he kept her in place. She scowled at him and placed her hands on his broad shoulders. “I told him I can’t pick him, and he vanished. I’ve not heard from him since. Your turn.”
Whatever demons he was battling with on the inside, she couldn’t tell. His expression remained indifferent. She cupped his face. Light stubble prickled her skin as she forced him to look her in the eye. “Talk or I’ll walk.”
“Have you become a poet in my absence?”
“No, but I might be charged with assault if you don’t say something.”
A tender smile cast his dark mood aside, and he wrapped his hands around her exposed wrists. His warm touch sent a current through her, and she struggled not to lean into him and kiss him then and there.
“As I have told you, there are hunter matters I must attend to. To do so, I must…change,” he said. She watched his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “I cannot guarantee that I will be the same afterwards.”
She couldn’t stay on his lap anymore, so she slid into the seat next to him. He didn’t fight her. Taking his hand into hers, she ran her thumb over his knuckles. Her attention was drawn to the scrapes and the bloodstains on his boots.
“Was that a human?” she whispered.
“A hunter,” Lucious replied, his voice suddenly becoming detached.
Looking up at him, she saw the mask falling back in place. He was a locked puzzle once more. “Do you have to change?”
“To complete this mission, yes.”
A boulder sat heavy in her empty stomach as she contemplated her next question. When it came, she closed her eyes. “What do you have to do?”
“I must return to my former self—a creature darker than black with no remorse, conscience or…love.”
Shooting out of her seat like a firework, she stood before him, her shaking hands squeezing his shoulders. “It can’t be that bad, right?”
The silence stretched between them. Taking her hand in his, he led her to the steps of the Archives while ignoring her plethora of questions. Halfway up, she tried to tear her hand out of his steel grip. Instead of relinquishing his hold, he picked her up and carried her like a sack of potatoes to the second floor.
Once he lowered her, she grasped the railing to steady the swirling world around her. Helena hated when he forced her to do something. It caused her anger to surge. She glared at him once the double vision faded. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I need you to see something.” He pulled out a large box off the shelf. His pale fingers lifted the lid, and he retrieved a large bound folder. The pages reminded her of Father J. R’s journal. They were of different sizes and had yellowed with age. Some had dark stains on them, and she wasn’t certain she wanted to know what they were.
“Read it!” he ordered, dropping the folder into her hands.
Helena wearily looked from the folder to him. “What will I find inside?”
He didn’t reply, so she was forced to satisfy her curiosity under his cold stare. This was not the man she had fallen for. Lucious was warm, caring, an ass at times, yes, but fundamentally he was good. The man before her felt alien. She questioned the possibility of him being a demon in disguise. Yet, her string confirmed that this was the real deal as the distance could not lie.
Her heart thudded in her chest. With every beat, Helena thought she would go mad as her fingers stroked the edge of the aged brown folder. She flung it open and surprise rounded her eyes. There were no pictures of horrors or tales of dark deeds.
“These are names…” she said, perplexed.
“They are names of people and hunters I have killed.”
She slowly scanned the list. Each page had over twenty entries. Some were labelled as ‘unidentified’. Flipping from page to page, her face paled.
There are hundreds of names here. He couldn’t have… When she looked up for confirmation, she saw nothing but pain on his face. His eyes were filled with unshed tears, and she dropped the folder. Her legs gave way, and he caught her before she collided with the ground. They sank to their knees like a wilted flower ready to merge with the soil it sprang free from. She couldn’t fight him off or conjure words.
“In Queen Victoria’s army, I never got along with the men there. ‘Too proud’, they told me. When I was wounded by a knife that cut deep into my thigh, a surgeon, Sir Robert Watts, stitched me up. Every time I hurt myself since, he would mend the damage and soon decided to teach me to attend to my own wounds. I had no interest in human anatomy until then. Before he could return to his loving wife in Somerset, the poor sod died trying to save a man’s life in the middle of the battlefield.”
Helena listened to his words and the lull of his slow-beating heart, not daring to interrupt him.
“Years later, I was turned and believed Anna to be dead. I could not contain myself. A few men Phil helped me find were hard to question unless I switched my emotions off and did unspeakable things.” He rested his forehead against her shoulder. “The hunters in East London slums would dress as prostitutes to attract the eye of any young vampire. I knew I needed to make a statement. I needed them to fear me for their tongues to loosen faster.”
She shuddered at the images her mind conjured. Her heart could take no more, so she closed the folder. She read the title scribbled in ink and dread paralysed her. “The Ripper? You are the serial killer who terrorised London?”
The micro incline of his head broke her heart further. “The Council gave me free reign as long as I cleared the streets of the hunters. Now I regret my actions, but there is not much I can do about it. I cannot turn back time.” He forced her to look at him. “Helena, answer me honestly, can you forgive the deeds of the past?”
“I don’t know what to say…” She separated from him.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides, but he remained seated. Lucious rested his back against the shelves and boxes in wait.
&n
bsp; She couldn’t help it. Her eyes scrutinised the folder between them. So many names, so many people died at the hands of this man. Each one could have had a family and kids. Were they missed? What about Maya and Ben? The agony in Ben’s voice when he found out that Maya hadn’t returned from the Demon Realm crushed her from within. Yet, she could not deny that she, too, had become a killer. Her hands caused the deaths of her grandmother, Andreaz, and the vampires in Vienna. The blood of others stained her soul as it tainted his.
“I asked too much of you.” He started getting up when she grasped his wrist. Lucious froze, watching the emotions fighting for dominance on her face.
Her watering eyes met his, and she kissed him. At first, he did not respond. But, slowly, his lips moved against hers in a sorrowful dance as their aching hearts sought refuge in one another. Helena wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. There was no space left between them. Her back pressed against the metal bars of the railing. She didn’t care for her discomfort or about his past. Her heart sang when they were together and the thought of losing him to the darkness brought forth the need to meld their bodies together.
His hand brushed her hair away from her neck. Breaking the kiss, he left tender pecks along her cheek, jawline, and down her neck. Each sensual touch added to the fire sparking within her as she craved to have his body wrapped around hers.
“I love you,” he murmured against her neck, tickling her.
Those three little words had her heart soaring. Her fingers buried in his short silky hair, and she revelled in his closeness.
Lucious drew away and claimed her mouth once again. With one swift movement, he lifted her up. A solid object dug into her spine. He had moved without her noticing, and she was trapped between him and the shelves. His hands held her up while her legs wound around his waist.
Crumbling Control (Helena Hawthorn Series Book 3) Page 8