Page 37 of Taken By the Ripper
“Saved by whom?” Then he gasped, and she glanced up to find his eyes widening. “The Ripper. And now you’re in his debt.”
Even the smallest bits of information clearly allowed him to connect the strings between his unknowns. He was too intelligent. No wonder Jack didn’t want her to tell him anything.
“I am not indebted to anyone.”
“I don’t believe that. You are too smart to help a killer.”
“He’s not a killer. It’s not what you think, Claude.”
He gripped either of her shoulders and squeezed gently. “Then tell me what it is. Tell me so I might understand.” When she didn’t answer, he gave her a desperate, pleading look. “What sort of creature is he?”
Clara was torn between telling Claude everything and keeping silent. No matter what she did, it would put either him or Jack in danger. What was the right thing to do? Who could she trust?
“How long have you been involved?” he asked when her mouth remained closed. But this time, the tips of his fingers brushed tenderly against her cheek. She couldn’t stand it. She enjoyed the tender touch far too much. However, she’d made her choice.
Claude sighed and dropped his hand in her silence. “I’ll give you a couple hours to get your story straight. Because…because I care about you. But I can’t ignore this. Not even for you. I’ll bring the police by, some ofmycolleagues, and we’ll question you then.”
“Why do you like me?” she blurted, her gaze darting from the coffee canister to the hand he’d touched her with so gently to his crazed yet passionate expression.
“I don’t know!” He clutched his head, his eyes wild. “I mean, I do know. But I feel something deeper that shouldn’t be there. Something I don’t remember. Like a dream I cannot recall when I wake.” He spun to face her. “But what I do know is that when I look at you…” He swallowed. “When I look at you, Clara, I want to stay by your side. I want to protect you.”
She pointed an accusatory finger at his chest. “This is not protecting me. You are turning me in for the crime of keeping you safe.”
“You stole evidence for my case. No, you stole my case entirely! And two people died because of it.”
“Don’t pin their deaths on me. All I did was hinder your investigation.”
“To stall me. Why?”
“I’m not sure.” She closed her eyes and rubbed a finger over the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know, Claude. I know I’m foolish for trusting blindly, but I believe this is the right thing to do.”
“How is this possibly the right thing to do? You are working against me.”
The ache in her head only seemed to grow. “What am I supposed to do? Allow you to walk into a den of vampires on your own?”
He swore under his breath. “There is an entire den here? By the holy shadows of our maker, what am I up against? I wasn’t even supposed to be hunting vampires.”
“You cannot hunt him!” she rasped, clinging onto his arms in desperation. “He’s innocent. I swear.”
“Then it wasn’t the Ripper tearing apart these women?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and hung her head. No matter what she said, it would vilify the Ripper. And to say anything more might tip Claude off that Jack was a ghoul, which would give him an idea of how to hunt him.
What could she possibly say that wouldn’t hurt Jack?
Therefore, she said nothing.
“Your silence is all the answer I need,” he murmured, extracting his arms from beneath her hands. “I’m sorry, Clara. I need more information to prevent further deaths. I never wished for you to get caught in the crossfire.” He started down the hallway but stopped for a moment without turning to face her. “I will return soon with my team. If you will not give me anything, then we will need to conduct a thorough search of your home.”
She balled her hands into fists, her arms shaking at the thought of anything bad happening to Jack. “If you kill him, I will never forgive you.”
He hung his head, remaining in the hallway for several beats of silence before continuing on his way and exiting the estate.She had to warn Jack. But how? She only ever saw him at night, which was still several hours away.
But still, she waited, hardly able to pay attention to her patients as she bit her nails, pulled out her pocket watch every five minutes, and glanced toward the window to wait for darkness to fall over Whitechapel.
And finally, it did. But neither Claude nor Jack returned to the estate. At least not yet.
A knock sounded on the front door, spiking her pulse to her neck. Jack wouldn’t have knocked. It was Claude to come search the house. Instinct told her to conceal any traces of Jack, but no matter what she attempted to hide, she was certain Claude could find it. Herinvolvementwith the ghoul would be exposed, surely. There was nothing she could do but watch as her secrets unraveled to his observant eye.
