The Whitechapel Fiend

“This is right off of Berner Street, you see? This was Elizabeth Stride, and she was found at one in the morning. Similar injuries, but seemingly incomplete. Just forty-five minutes later, the body of Catherine Eddowes is found in Mitre Square.”

 

 

Gabriel traced his finger along the route from Berner Street to Mitre Square.

 

“It’s a distance of over half a mile,” he said. “I’ve just walked it several times. This second murder was much more terrible in nature. The body was utterly dismembered and organs were removed. The work was very delicate in nature, very skilled. And it was done in darkness, in no more than a few minutes. Work that would have taken a surgeon much more time and certainly some light. It’s simply not possible, and yet, it happened.”

 

Tessa and Will considered the map in front of them for a moment while the fire crackled gently behind them.

 

“He could have had a carriage,” Will said.

 

“Even with a carriage, there would simply not be time to commit these acts. And they are most certainly acts committed by the same being.”

 

“Not the work of werewolves?”

 

“Definitely not,” Gabriel said. “Nor vampires. The bodies have not been drained. They haven’t been consumed or torn. They have been cut, with organs removed and arranged, as if by design. This”—Gabriel tapped the map for emphasis—“is demonic in nature. And it has set London into a panic.”

 

“But why would a demon target only these poor women?” Will asked.

 

“There must be something they require. The fiend does seem to take . . . childbearing organs. I propose we patrol the East End, beginning at once. This area.”

 

Gabriel drew a circle around Spitalfields with his finger.

 

“This is the center of the activity. This is where it must be. Are we agreed?”

 

“Where’s Cecily?” Will asked.

 

“She has already started the work. She is there now, speaking to some of the women on the street. They find it easier speaking to her. We must start at once.”

 

Will nodded.

 

“I have one further suggestion. As the beast seems to be attracted to a certain class of woman, we should use glamours . . .”

 

“Or shape-shifters,” Tessa said.

 

“. . . to attract the demon.”

 

Will’s eyes caught blue fire. “You are suggesting using my wife and my sister to lure the thing out?”

 

“It is the best way,” Gabriel said. “And your sister is my wife. Both Tessa and Cecily are more than capable, and we would be there as well.”

 

“It is a good plan,” Tessa said, forestalling Will and Gabriel’s next argument. (They would always have time for another one.)

 

Gabriel nodded. “Again, are we agreed?”

 

Tessa looked into her husband’s bright blue eyes.

 

“Agreed,” she said.

 

“Agreed,” said Will. “On one condition.”

 

“And what condition is—” Gabriel broke off with a sigh. “Ah,” he said. “Brother Zachariah.”

 

“This monster is violent,” said Will. “We might need a healer. Someone with the power of a Silent Brother. This is a special situation.”

 

“I cannot recall a situation you did not think was special and required his presence,” said Gabriel dryly. “You have been known to call upon Brother Zachariah for a broken toe.”

 

“It was turning green,” said Will.

 

“He’s right,” said Tessa. “Green doesn’t suit him. Makes him look bilious.” She smiled at Gabriel. “There is no reason for Jem not to accompany us. We may yet need him and it does no harm to have him there.”

 

Gabriel opened his mouth and then closed it again with a click. He hadn’t known Jem Carstairs that well before Jem had become a Silent Brother, but he had liked him. Still, unlike his wife, Gabriel was one of the people who (clearly) thought it odd that even though Tessa had once been engaged to Jem, she and Will considered him part of their family and tried to include him in everything they did.

 

There were few people in the world who understood how much Will and Jem had loved each other, did love each other, and how much Will missed him. But Tessa did.

 

“If we might be able to save one of these poor women, we must try,” said Tessa. “If Jem can help, that would be wonderful. If not, Cecily and I will do all we can. I hope you do not think either of us lack the courage.”

 

Will stopped glaring at Gabriel, and turned to Tessa. He looked at her and his face softened: the traces of the wild, broken boy he had been vanished, replaced with the expression often worn by the man he was now, who knew what it was to love and be loved. “Dear heart,” he said. He took her hand and kissed it. “Who knows your courage better than I?”

 

*

 

“That October,” Tessa Gray said, “there were no Ripper murders reported. The London Institute made sure to patrol every evening, right through until sunrise. It was believed that this kept the demon at bay.”

 

It had gotten dark outside, even though it was only around three in the afternoon. The hall had gotten considerably colder as the sun had faded, and all of the students were hunkered down in the seats, arms wrapped around themselves to keep warm, but utterly alert. Tessa had been talking for some time, showing maps of London, describing truly horrific murders. It was the kind of thing that kept you awake.

 

“I think,” she said, rubbing her hands together, “that it is time for a short break. We’ll resume in half an hour.”

 

During long lecture classes, the Academy was merciful enough to allow one bathroom break every few hours, along with some more of the murky tea, which was put out in one of the large halls in steaming, ancient urns. Simon was cold enough to take a cup. Again, some benevolent Shadowhunter had provided a tray of small cakes. Simon was able to get a fleeting look at them before they were snatched up by elites, who were excused first. Some sad little biscuits were left on the side. They looked like they were made of packed sand.

 

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