Capturing the Devil (Stalking Jack the Ripper #4)(77)

Mephistopheles crossed his arms. “Tell me why I ought to.”

“I need you,” I said, hating that I was desperate enough to utter those words.

He didn’t so much as blink for a beat too long. When he finally did, his lip curled devilishly as he slid Thomas a taunting look. “Ah. I see I haven’t lost my charm yet. Most women I meet say the same thing, usually whilst scantily clad.

Should we remove a few of those pesky layers? It’ll help clear my mind. Get me in the mood for charity.”

“Only if you’d like me to strangle you with them.”

“Still so violent I see.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure you make Thomas a very happy man. I always imagined his tastes were a bit depraved—what with all those dead bodies.” Thomas plastered on a grin of his own but remained silent.

Mephistopheles narrowed his eyes. “Did you two actually fall in love surrounded by corpses?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We—” I shut my mouth. Distilled down to its most basic element, Thomas and I had continued a flirtation in the laboratory. It could be argued we did fall in love while carving the dead. The thought was disturbing.

“You’re both twisted and gnarled in ways too gruesome for even my mind.”

Mephistopheles grinned as if reading my thoughts. “You truly are perfectly matched.”

“You’re avoiding my inquiry,” I said.

His smile vanished as if it had never been there to begin with. I couldn’t stop myself from shivering in place. He was talented with casting illusions, almost too talented.

“Am I? I thought I’d been perfectly clear.”

He ushered us out through the back doors of the theater, sticking two fingers in his mouth, whistling for our carriage. A shadow peeled off the wall, lurching toward us. I closed my eyes briefly, worried I’d imagined it. I opened them and it was gone.

My heartbeat continued to race despite the fact that there wasn’t anyone

lurking in the darkness, waiting to attack.

“While I hate ending our little rendezvous, you’ll have to solve whatever mess you’ve gotten into this time on your own. I’m truly sorry, Miss Wadsworth, but I must look after the Moonlight Carnival. We were lucky to recover from that cursed voyage, having lost only one of our troupe. Getting mixed up with more murder will send us straight to the grave. No pun intended.”





THIRTY-THREE

THIS DEVILISH PURSUIT

GRANDMAMA’S ESTATE

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS





11 FEBRUARY 1889


Once the maid finished helping me change into my sleeping attire, I lay back on the bed, going over the events of the evening. Mephistopheles’s reaction had been odd, especially for the normally boisterous ringmaster. He’d never seemed to mind causing trouble or involving himself in it before, though maybe his reluctance was simply out of fear. The last investigation nearly ended his carnival for good. I supposed I ought to be happy for him—he’d rebuilt his illusions and was doing quite well. Still, I couldn’t rid myself of unease.

Thomas slipped in like a shadow slinking around corners. I shook my head and turned the small lamp on, watching as he balanced an entire cake with two glasses of milk on one small tray. I moved over, making room on the bed for our midnight treat. He handed me a fork, his smile wide and bright. “I’m not sure how you’re faring, but I’m exhausted.”

“You’re not too tired for cake,” I said. Or for sneaking into my bedchamber.

“I’m never too tired for cake. Especially when it’s chocolate.”

I watched him dig into the fluffy confectionary, his concentration solely on the task of carving it up without a knife. I huffed a laugh and handed him a scalpel from my satchel. “Thank you for tonight, Thomas. I really enjoyed the play.”

He flicked his attention to me, shrugging off the compliment. “Being selfless is terribly taxing. I don’t suggest trying it.”

I took a fork from him and tasted the treat. Chocolate and cherry tonight. I stuck another forkful in, enjoying its richness. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring champagne. Aren’t you always going on about getting drunk and dancing most inappropriately?”

“Why indulge in spirits when there’s nothing more heavenly than chocolate?”

“Mmm.” He did have a point. We sat in companionable silence, each happily finishing off our slices. It was nice, having him here at night, sitting together and doing something as mundane as indulging in a late-night treat. He finished his piece and stared longingly as I savored my last two bites. If the devil thought he was getting any of my cake, he was sadly mistaken. I was most unladylike as I licked my fork clean of icing. His dark gaze was suddenly entranced by the motion and I realized my misstep. My cheeks pinked.

“Why did you really take me to see that show tonight?” I asked, handing him my empty plate. “It wasn’t simply for the Tesla coil, was it?”

“In truth?” Thomas stacked our dishes and set them on my nightstand. “I wanted you to see Mephisto again. Especially after everything that happened with my father and Miss Whitehall. I—” He glanced at his empty ring finger almost ruefully. “I’d heard he was here and didn’t wish to keep it from you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And?”