Ripper (Hunter #1)(86)

One shoulder came up negligently. “You consider it fear. I think of it as an arousing game. I never hurt the girls…too much.”

“You met with Joanne.” I didn’t want to get into Alexander Sharpe’s predilections. “Her appointment book stated she had a date with you shortly before she disappeared.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to let something so sweet and docile get past me. Unfortunately, she was more interested in the whereabouts of some other girl than she was in partaking of what I had to offer.”

“She asked you about Britney Miles?”

“Only until I used enough persuasion to get what I wanted.” The vampire was casual, as though rape was on the same level as a white lie.

“You took her by force.” I was pleased that the question managed to come out somewhat civil. I wanted to shout. A low thrum of anger started in my belly. My skin began to heat.

The vampire’s laugh was brittle and boomed through the room. “Silly girl, you can’t force a prostitute. They know their place and if they don’t, they certainly do after I’m done with them.”

“These women are under the protection of the Council.” I promised myself I would have a long talk with Dev Quinn when I updated him.

He was completely unconcerned with my threat. “Then they should complain to the Council. I’m sure Quinn put in some form of a system for situations like this. That faery is careful. I’m afraid you won’t find a single working girl who’ll stand up and protest. They like what I give them. Trust me, no one knows how to make a whore scream the way I do.” He leaned forward and I forced myself to hold my ground. “Go on, Miss Atwood. Ask the question you really want to ask. Normally, I refuse to answer, but I’ll tell you the truth. You intrigue me.”

I should have avoided the trap, but I was far too curious. “Were you really Jack the Ripper?”

“Oh yes,” he breathed. “I was. I am. Does something like that ever really die? I terrorized London, but they never understood. I was an artist. I killed, well, one often forgets one’s first, fumbling attempts, but it was many more than the five they give me credit for. I was a doctor, you see, so I knew the disease those whores spread. I had to watch many a decent man suffer and die because he couldn’t resist their siren call. I was doing the city a favor. My fatal flaw was a savage need for credit. I should have worked quietly, but it all turned out for the best.”

“You were caught and killed, weren’t you?”

He stared straight at me. “Yes, I was and by a clever girl much like yourself. You remind me of her. Something about the eyes. She put the pieces together and came for me one night. A little thing she was, but ferocious. She was stronger than she looked. I always wondered how the Council missed her. They’re good at finding Hunters like her.”

“I thought hunters hunted supernaturals for the Council.” My grandfather had been one, but he didn’t have any power beyond his natural strength and long practice.

“Are you serious?” He sat back. “Are you joking with me?”

Joking was the absolute last thing I was thinking about. “What do you mean? Why would I joke? I’m here on serious business, Sharpe.”

A smile of pure pleasure broke over his face. It was a frightening thing to see. “I can see that. I can see that you’re quite serious. Such webs they weave. Who am I to tear them down? Anyway, like I said, this girl had no training and no idea what power she possessed. I didn’t know what she was at the time, either, which was why I underestimated her. It was my misfortune that she was an activist. You know the type. Wide-eyed idealist trying to save the world. Those instincts of hers took over when she found me and I was gutted before I could quite close my hands around her throat.”

Something about the way he said “instincts” caused me to get goose bumps. It made me think of the way I had fought the wolves in the alley. I was also thinking about the way he’d talked about webs being woven. I had to wonder who was the spider and who was the fly. “You think she was a supe who didn’t know it?”

He hesitated for a moment before continuing on. “Some humans are born with true killer instincts. I’m not talking about soldiers or even murderers. I’m talking about something else entirely. They remind one of wolves in the way they track their prey. The Council has always tried to find and train these humans, but this girl had gotten away.”

“So she killed you and Jack the Ripper was relegated to the history books.”

“Except I didn’t die, not really. Unfortunately for her.” His eyes lit at the thought of what had happened next.

“You killed her?”

“Oh, yes,” the vampire said with relish. “After my training with the Council was done, I was allowed to settle in the United States, but not before I returned home one last time. I was the hunter then, and her screams still make me sigh. She had your eyes.” Sharpe crossed his legs and his body relaxed into the chair like he’d related a pleasant story instead of confessed to multiple murders. “Tell me, dear, have you found Joanne yet?”

“I did. In Whites Chapel Cemetery.” I watched him carefully.

“How very obvious! Please tell me you don’t suspect I would do something so transparent.” He looked horrified, as though he’d been accused of doing something socially awkward.