Gilded Hearts (The Shadow Guild Series) (17 page)

“Wa’chit.”

Samuel neatly sidestepped him. “Did you see a man here? He might have been watching the building over there.”

The man grumbled and turned toward the building, an empty wine bottle dropping to the cobblestones with a hollow
thunk
. Wonderful. Samuel continued down the alley, making sure to check each doorway and crevice. It was possible the man fled rather than risk exposing himself to Samuel.

There was nothing. He felt nothing, like a void around him.

Wait, that wasn’t right.

He could still feel the brush of Piper and Dennison’s emotions against this mind. But he was missing something. Someone.

The homeless man. He couldn’t feel him.

The thought was lost as he was shoved face-first into the biting wall. The chipped and pitted stone dug into his cheek as a muscled forearm forced his jaw open and cut against the side of his throat. Gasping for air, Samuel struggled against his attacker, only to find his arm twisted behind his back, much as he’d incapacitated Dennison.

The stench of rancid breath turned his stomach when the man leaned in to press his mouth to Samuel’s ear. But it was the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in forever that made him sick.

“Hello, Sammy-boy. It’s been a while.”

Piper squeezed her hands against her ears but it did nothing to drown out Annie’s screaming.
Don’t you dare let them kill me. I know things them two can’t know. I’m an important person and them bastards just want to push me aside into the gutter. But I won’t go. You can’t make me!

“Shut up.” Piper dropped to her knees, curling over onto herself. “Shut up, shut up.”

Don’t you tell me to shut up. You’re nothing but a zombie walkin’ about like you know how to live.

“Please stop, Annie.”

No. Lalalalalalalalalalalalala.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing hard. “Miss Smith? Piper?”

Dennison. Emmet Dennison. Her superior in the field by eight months, childhood friend, man who in normal circumstances would be a potential suitor for her. But these were not normal circumstances, and there was nothing she wanted from him beyond guidance and helping her figure out what the hell was going on with the Archives.

Liar. You want him to push you to the floor, spread yer legs and give you a right fucking. I can tell by the way you look at him. I could show you, tell you. If you play yer cards right I bet both them blokes would take you together. That would be an eye opener. Hahahahahaha!

“Stop it!” She beat her fists against her skull, relishing the pain. She did it again, and Annie’s laugh diminished into a low chuckle.

“Piper, you need to stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

It was a hard thing not to cry, to give in to the overwhelming emotions and let Dennison comfort her. Looking up into his concerned gaze, she knew that Annie was right. He would give her anything she wanted with little provocation. She could kiss him right now and once he’d gotten over his surprise, Dennison would take her and make her his. Given his influence and money she had no doubt he could set her up as a mistress, never wanting for anything. He wouldn’t even care about the white rings around her irises.

He wouldn’t pull back like Sam had.

That’s it. Take what you want from him and throw him aside. You’re an independent woman. You don’t need no men to tell you who to fuck. Who to want or what to do.

Dennison frowned. “Piper?” His hand was warm on her cheek. His thumb rubbed soft trails across her skin, sending electric tremors through her. “Are you well?”

“Yes. She’s stopped.” Piper ignored Annie’s snort. Her throat was sore and her head ached. It was similar to the time she’d had influenza as a child; the virus nearly killed her. “Where’s Sam?”

“There was screaming outside. He went to check, wanted to make sure someone hadn’t found us.”

“Who would know we were here?” No, that couldn’t be right. They’d been careful in their journey and she was confident Dennison wouldn’t have led anyone here, even by mistake. “This is wrong.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing more than a vagrant. Or a robbery.”

Piper struggled to her feet. “We have to go.”

“Miss Smith—”

“Let me go. We have to find Sam.”

“He’s fine. You’re not.”

Piper slammed the heel of her boot down on his toes at the same time that she shoved him. Dennison cried out as he stumbled back, giving her enough time to break free for the door. At the last second she snatched up her knife from the table as she went.

“Piper!”

Her lungs burned as she raced down the stairs two at a time. She stumbled as her boot caught on the hem of her skirts, sending her fumbling for the railing.

“Come back here!”

The hairs on the back on her neck weren’t just standing up, they felt as if they were pulling electricity to them, miniature lightning rods embedded in her skin. She didn’t know how she knew, but Sam was in trouble.

The night air reeked, and the light from the sulfur lamps barely cast enough of a glow to illuminate the street. Without knowing where to go, she raced to the center of the street, stopping to spin around slowly, looking for any sign.

“Where are you?” Her whispers sounded desperate to her ears.

The echoes of Dennison’s approaching footfall reached her. She only had a few seconds at best before he’d blunder his way to her and try to haul her back inside. Squinting, she peered into the shadows trying to see if there was something,
anything
to give her a clue. On the street she saw a discarded in a pile of clothing, dirty and torn. She stepped forward to investigate, and it was almost by chance that she noticed the swish of fabric, the hem of a cap flicking up from around the corner.

Like the man who’d run into Samuel on the street.

He had a coat like that. That man who killed me. And a hat.

“No.” Her hand shook as she held the knife out in front of her. With each step she took toward the alley, her stomach twisted further into knots. The low murmur of someone talking was swallowed up by the pounding of Dennison’s feet against the cobblestone.

“Dammit, stop!”

She held up her hand, half turning around and silently begging Dennison to keep the noise down. Nodding in the direction of the alley, she was relieved when he pulled out his pistol and took up a flanking position.

Together they crept toward where she’d seen the movement. The voices grew louder with each step. One she didn’t recognize, the gravelly rasp accented in such a way she couldn’t be sure from where the owner heralded. But it was the mocking bite of the words she couldn’t decipher that fueled her panic. There was something wrong with the man, something unsettling about the way his whispered words snaked through the night air to her ears.

Pausing, she listened a moment longer, trying to catch a hint of Sam and what was happening to him. Not that it mattered any longer. Whoever was being subjected to the cruel sting of that voice, Piper wouldn’t stand by and do nothing to assist.

“Poor Sammy, all alone and scared. Ran off into the night and forgot all about me.”

Dennison frowned at her, but all Piper could answer was with a shrug.

“John?” Disbelief and fear, clear in Samuel’s voice. But it was the threat of hope that confused her. “Is that you?”

“How could you forget about me, Sammy? You left me alone in the dark.”

“I didn’t know—”

“Liar! I called to you, but you didn’t answer. You did
nothing
.”

Sickened, Piper rounded the corner despite Dennison’s protestations, her knife held at the ready. “Let him go.”

The man in black had Samuel on his knees, pinned to the stone wall, his arm pulled high against his back. The glint of the knife’s blade to Samuel’s throat drew her gaze, causing her to freeze.

She couldn’t see the man’s face. What his wide-brimmed hat didn’t conceal, the black scarf covering his nose and mouth did. But she could see his eyes, the pale irises strangely visible in the low light.

“Who are you? Are you Jack the Ripper?” She tried to reach out to Annie, but all she could feel were waves of fear. Piper flexed her fingers around the hilt of the knife, firming her grip despite her moist palm. “Let him go.”

Samuel wasn’t saying anything. His face was turned away from her, but she could tell his gaze was locked on the man standing above him. Piper swallowed hard, thankful for Dennison’s presence at her side.

“Let him
go
.” Her voice was far steadier than she felt. “He’s a sergeant in the King’s Sentry. They’ll hunt down anyone who hurts one of their own.”

“Ah, the King’s Sentry. You gave them everything you couldn’t give the others, eh, Sammy?” The man leaned in, wrapped a hand around Samuel’s throat, and jerked him to his feet. The move was smooth and happened so quickly that neither she nor Dennison had time to react. With Samuel’s body acting as a shield, the man peeked out from around the side of Samuel’s head. “So you ran, ran away from home to become a copper. How quaint.”

Piper stepped up. She had to do something, distract this man to give Samuel a chance to get free. “You killed them, didn’t you? Mary and Annie?

Samuel’s eyes were wide and his gaze seemed unable to fix on any one point. Piper wanted to call to him again, force him to speak, to let her know that he was unhurt, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could see was the edge of the blade cutting into the pale stretch of his throat, the light from the sulfur lamp casting flashing of light against the gray stone walls.

Letting out a huff, Piper forced her gaze up. “Sam called you John. Is that your name?”

“Not anymore. John is dead. Dead and filled with a hole so big, his insides leaked out. I’m Jack now. Only Jack.”

“Was that you who sent the letters?”

“Could be, pretty Pip.” Leaning forward, Jack placed a kiss to Samuel’s ear. “She really is lovely. I understand the fascination. Though she’s a bit of a cold fish. There are so many other whores out there willing to spread their legs for you, Sammy. Like our girl Annie. Of course she’s quite cold, now.”

Filthy bastard!

“Why are you doing this?” She couldn’t let him win, couldn’t let the weight of his words and Annie’s anger overwhelm her. “Why are you killing these people?”

“Work to do, Sammy.” Jack tightened his grip. “Always work to do. Day and night and night and day. Over and over until the words don’t mean anything.”

“Enough of this.” Dennison pulled the hammer back on his pistol and leveled the muzzle at the masked assailant. “I believe the lady asked you to let him go.”

The blade was pulled tighter to Samuel’s throat. “Another fucking archivist. They’re breeding you like sewer rats. Have they kept you fucking beneath the heat fans until you spawn out another freak? Is she your little whore?”

“Leave her out of this.” Samuel’s voice was little more than a raspy breath.

“Trying to protect your whore? Well, isn’t that sweet?” The man began to pull Samuel with him as they moved backward down the alley. “I’ll have to remember that for the next time we meet.”

Samuel twisted in his assailant’s grasp. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

A thin trickle of blood rolled down his neck where the knife dug into the flesh. “Ah, ah, ah, Sammy-boy. You just settle down and this will all be over soon.”

“You take the shot, Dennison.” Samuel’s face was growing pale, even as he clawed at the hand around his chest. “Dammit, take the shot.”

“I’ll hit him.” It was said more for Piper’s benefit than for any actual worry on Dennison’s behalf. “Stupid fool.”

Another two stumbled steps backward and Piper knew if one of them didn’t act quickly, Samuel’s life would be over. She was only going to have one shot at this. Ignoring Dennison, she tightened her grip on her knife and prayed she wouldn’t miss. When Samuel finally met her gaze, he gave her a tiny nod.

“Now, Sam!”

He slammed backward, bashing the crown of his head into the chin of his attacker. It created enough separation between them that he was able to fall to the ground, giving Piper the chance to throw her knife. The attacker ducked away, bolting for a doorway previously hidden from view. Dennison fired his pistol three times, missing the mark as the man disappeared into the doorway.

“Look after Hawkins.” Dennison gave chase, leaving Piper to pick up the pieces.

“Sam?” The cobblestone was cold beneath her knees as she dropped to his side. “Oh God, you’re bleeding.”

A length of fabric from her petticoat gave way easily, giving her enough material to bunch up and use as a bandage. “It’s not too deep. Hold this tightly to the wound.”

Samuel’s eyes were squeezed shut. While the cut couldn’t have been pleasant, it wasn’t as deep as Piper had feared.
That beast was toying with ya, girl. He could have slashed his neck before you took a breath.

“Sam, you’re going to be fine.”

Scrambling back until he was pressed against the wall, Samuel’s ragged breathing was the only sound for several moments.

“I thought he was dead.” He wouldn’t open his eyes. “Jack… John. He’s one of us.”

“That’s not possible. I’ve never seen him before, and we would have remembered anyone who looked like that. With the exception of yourself nobody has left the Archives in a century, so who could he have possibly been? Not an archivist; certainly not an apprentice.”

When he finally looked at her, she could see the shadow clouding his eyes. “No, there was one who left. Years before I did. For a long time I believed he wasn’t real, I convinced myself he’d died. And they all acted as though I’d made him up, an imaginary friend of sorts. Even Ryerson after a time told me he’d been nothing more than a figment of my imagination.”

“But… who the hell is he?”

Closing his eyes, Samuel pressed his head against the stones, his breathing growing more labored with each breath. “Before your time. I wasn’t housed with the other apprentices then; I only saw them at mealtimes. Me and John were best friends. My only friend. No one else was around… and then one day he was gone.”

She remembered what Samuel had been like when she’d first arrived—quiet and mistrustful. It had taken him finding her crying and lost in the maze of rooms one day before he even spoke to her. “A child escaping? That doesn’t seem possible. Maybe the Guild Masters know—”