Chapter 103

KINDRED OF CAIN

“I was there at the beginning, and I am here at the last,” said Jack. “Hunted and stalked by you. By seers. Born of the angels of heaven and the women of earth. I terrorized the world before they came. I spilled blood and made men do what men love. But then you bastards came and corralled me. You were made to be my adversaries. But our maker gave you souls. The key to my freedom.”

Tash had been weakened by her journey. She was sprawled on the bed. She felt wrecked and breathed heavily. Some of the images still tarnished her mind. They were there for good. She still saw them now.

Brother killing brother. The fall of empires. Plagues destroying millions. Floods drowning cities. Nations going to war. Murderers stalking towns. Innocents savaged. Cruelty reigning. From genocide to back-street butchery. From the death of kings to the death of Mary Kelly.

How can we be in the room where she died? thought Tash. It’s impossible.

But she’d learnt over the past few days that nothing was impossible. She looked around the room. She recognized it because she’d seen the old photos in Jonas Troy’s suitcase. The photos that showed Mary’s disfigured body on the bed. Was it the same street outside? Had they gone back in time? Had they slipped through a gash in the universe? Was this place like the cavern where Jack had tried to murder Jasmine? Somewhere that existed, but just out of reach. Just beyond the minds of ordinary people. Somewhere you had to look for carefully.

Jack spoke again.

“When Jonas Troy chased me that night, I cursed him. I had been so close to being free. I was sucked down into the gutters, dragged through shit. I was a pariah. A lost soul. One that’s got no place in heaven or in hell. But why should I suffer? I was made this way. This is what I am. I am not made to be in pain, I am made to inflict it. Luckily, that stupid Spencer came along . . . ”

Tash said nothing.

Jack said, “I shall have your soul. My Ripper is coming home. My 21st century Abberline. He’s already paved the way. You know who killed your sister?”

Tash gaped.

“And do you know who killed the Faultless woman? Susan Murray? Nancy Sherwood? He did. My boy. My Ripper. He had so much evil in him. Such darkness in his heart that it was easy to speak to him. Easy to make him hear. We have chemistry, he and I. If I could love, I would love him.”

Tash was terrified. “You . . . you killed my sister, you . . . ”

“Didn’t you listen, you tart? Not me. My Ripper. Ripped her up.”

Tash shuddered. She felt sick.

Jack said, “I found a kindred of Cain. A descendent with the mark of evil on him. Better than Abberline. Better than all of them.”

“Who is he?” The door opened. Hallam Buck entered. Tash stared at him. He looked away and trudged inside. He was pale and bloody, and his crotch was a mass of black fluid and hanging skin.

Tash nearly puked.

But then another figure loomed in the doorway. He stayed in the shadows for a moment so Tash was unable to see his face. But he stood tall and powerful. And then he entered, his face etched with hatred, a satchel slung over his shoulder.

It was Don Wilks, the policeman.

Tash threw up.