Jack A Grim Reaper Romance (36 page)

“I want to come with you. Poor Jack…” Lilly yanked back the covers, when Mason put a stop to it with a quick hand on her shoulder.

“Lilly, you cannot come, love.” He’d be damned if he’d put her in harm’s way again. He’d already failed to keep her safe, and he’d not make the same mistake twice.

Not wanting to get into an argument with her, he turned to Pierce, determined to get back to the matter at hand. “Do we have that list of Jack’s properties and those of his family? I need Stefan’s address.”

“Mason, please.” Lilly hopped out of bed, but her legs were unsteady.

He caught her in time, encircling her in his arms, his eyes on hers as he spoke. “Pierce, if we could have a moment.”

“I’ll go and check on any properties Stefan might own.”

He helped her back into bed and sat by her side. “Listen, love, you’re still weak from your ordeal, and I cannot be worrying about you when trying to catch a killer.” He brushed her cheek, her skin smooth and warm to the touch.

“I thought the opiates had worn off. I don’t understand.” She closed her eyes and leaned back.

She didn’t know the condition they’d found her in—could not know, especially with the latest revelations that Stefan was likely the murderer. Though she no longer bore the visual marks of her ordeal, her body was still healing and as a young reaper, it would be some time before she regained her strength. He could only hope that she’d not figure out her weakness wasn’t due to the opiates but rather the injuries she’d sustained and the healing process.

He tried to ease her worries and distract her. “You’ve yet to have that bath, love, and I’m sure you must be hungry. None of this is your concern now and it’ll all be over before you know it.”

She held onto him, her hands fisted around the cloth of his shirt. “Promise me you’ll stay safe. I could not bear you coming to harm.”

“I promise, love.”

***

As they headed into London, Mason glanced through the list Pierce handed him. There were three properties—a main residence owned by Stefan, and then two smaller properties leased in his name. “You sent word to the Elders and sent men to the other two addresses?”

“I did. And might I add, it was a stroke of brilliance to have Stefan assigned to you as a reap. Even if he knows we’re coming, we’ll still be able to track him. It’s only a matter of time before he’s caught.” Pierce beamed at him, his eyes wide with excitement.

“The murders were justification enough to change the date of his death.” Mason need not mention he wanted to strangle the bastard for what he did to Lilly—death was a mercy Stefan did not deserve. “Anything to put a stop to this mess.”

He could feel the tug of the reap and knew they’d be returning once more to the building where they found Lilly. Sliding the small wooden door to the side, he gave his driver the address. “Same as last night.” He pulled out his pistol and made sure it was loaded and ready, Pierce following suit. “We’re going in armed. The man is dangerous, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let this turn into a blasted chase.”

Mason sat back and said little more the rest of the journey, every muscle tense with anticipation. And then the pull of the reap started to fade.

“Damn it, I’m losing him.”

Chapter Forty

Jack knew where Emerson would be, just like he’d always known, their bond inseparable even with his death. Not bothering to knock, he unlocked the door and let himself in.

He was sitting there on the bed, Lilly’s blood still staining the covers.

“I blame myself.” Jack shook his head. The image of his son brutalizing Lilly was too much to bear, the tipping point in his hell. “I should have put a stop to it from the start.”

Emerson laughed. “You cannot blame yourself, father. You’ve always been the sentimental sort, and you could not possibly have known that my…
gift
would link me to your actions as a reaper.”

Jack knew it was his fault. All of it. Emerson was only ten when Jack became a reaper, but his psychic abilities kept them linked—not only to him but to those Jack touched as a reaper. Unbeknownst to Jack, his son witnessed the passing—brutal or otherwise—of every person Jack reaped. So many of them, day after day. Could anyone stay sane after witnessing so much death?

And it was that link to Jack—to a reaper—that allowed Emerson to murder those women without them first being reaped, allowed their life to be taken before their time. His son had managed to step into his world— a world of death and darkness, a world belonging to reapers.

“It has to stop, Emerson.”

He interrupted him. “I’ve told you, I prefer to go by my second name. It’s Stefan now—Stefan Harper. Emerson Torrington died when you did, father. He died when you left us all in the care of that bastard. Did you care that he was cruel to your children? To your wife?” Stefan’s brown eyes, so much like his own, held his gaze. “You walked amongst us, and yet you did nothing to put a stop to our hell.”

“You’re right. I should have found a way to intervene.” Jack shook his head, not sure how it had come to this. “And I blame myself for what you’ve become. I did my best to keep you from detection—from the Elders and the police—but I can do it no more.”

Brutalizing those women—all to keep his son from being caught. He should not have done it. Better to have let Stefan get caught and suffer the consequences, than let it go on as it did. Jack’s pulse thundered away, despair and anger filling his head and heart. “You should not have touched Lilly.”

“Ah… sweet Lilly. I must say, I enjoyed her the most.” His eyes were distant, as if recalling precious memories. “Pity you put an end to it, father. I did not care for the interruption.”

Jack closed his eyes, and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. And then without a word, he pulled the pistol from his pocket and shot his son.

Chapter Forty-One

Mason couldn’t understand why the pull of his reap had faded to nothing, and with a new sense of urgency, it did not take long for them to arrive. In the light of day, the neighborhood looked even more desperate, grey and run down, all hope extinguished in the grime and poverty. His heart thudded as they made their way to the building, every muscle coiled tight and waiting to spring into action.

Heavy drapes covered the windows, so there was no way to know if it was just Stefan or if they’d also have to deal with Jack. Mason pulled out his pistol. “Are you ready?”

Pierce nodded, his weapon drawn. Mason waited a moment more and then turned the knob, surprised to find it unlocked, and even more surprised by the scene before him.

Jack knelt on the floor, covered in blood, Stefan cradled in his arms, dead. Jack looked up at Mason, tears staining his cheeks, his face contorted with pain and rage. “Why did you choose me to be a reaper?
Why?
None of this would have happened if you had let me die a normal death.”

Mason moved closer, his eye on the pistol by Jack’s side. He’d rather not get shot, if at all possible. “It was Stefan all along, wasn’t it?” Jack looked away but did not answer him. “Why did you mutilate the women then?”

“I tried to stop him, tried to talk sense into him, but he wouldn’t listen. He threatened to tell my wife I was now a reaper if I stood in his way. Threatened to tell her my role in his insanity.” Jack let out a ragged breath, his fingers curling into fists around his son’s shirt. “It would have killed her to know what he’d become—what I’d become. And he was my son—I had to try and protect him.”

“I don’t understand.” Mason kept talking while he knelt by the gun. Upset as Jack was, he didn’t notice when Mason put his hand on the weapon and tucked it away. “What role could you have played? He was but a young lad when you died.”

“He had the sight, aye? Just like my mother, and to an extent, me. And when I became a reaper, he saw each and every death I reaped—just like I did. Every one.” He shook his head. “I hadn’t known. Then, when he started the brutality, I tried to talk some sense into him. But the women—they were never reaped—and I knew if the Elders found out it was him, they’d show him no mercy.”

Mason could not imagine such a young mind being exposed to so much tragedy and violence. The old, the young, whether of natural causes or lives taken, it would have been overwhelming. He thought of the watch fob they’d found and the inscription—
for showing me the wonders of the world
. It all made sense in a twisted and wicked way. And as for the Elders? Jack’s worry had been justified.

“I did my best to disguise the murders, but he showed no signs of stopping. I had no choice. I refused to be a part of the last few, for I could no longer bear his burden.”

It all made sense now. With the last few murders, they had sensed Jack’s energy, but had been unable to recreate any part of the murder because he had refused to participate. And now Jack had made the biggest sacrifice in order to put a stop to the madness—his son.

Mason’s tone was gentle when he spoke. They may have had their differences, but he could now see Lilly had been right about him all along. “I’ll need to bring you in. Even if you did not commit the murders, you’ll still need to go before the Elders. I’ll be happy to plead your case though, and ask them for leniency.”

Jack looked up at him, his dark eyes narrowed in confusion. “Why? Why would you bother?”

“You saved Lilly last night. Am I right?”

“I was too late, Archer. Surely you know that much.” Jack shook his head.

“It could have been far worse, aye? And for that I owe you.” Mason pushed away the horrors he’d seen, for it’d be too easy to imagine Lilly in the place of last night’s victim.

“I’d like to see her one last time. Please. If you owe me a favor, then let it be that. For you know I’ll not see her ever again once you give me to the Elders.”

“Aye. Very well then.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Lilly decided she could indeed do with a soak in the tub. She felt as if she’d not washed in weeks, and her skin was tender as if it were made of delicate paper, every touch too much to bear. She had not remembered being hurt in her struggles with Stefan, but then again, there was little she
did
remember.

She slipped into the hot water, every nerve on fire. It took some time to adjust to the temperature, but she soon found herself distracted by everything that had just happened.

Stefan.

Not once had she thought him the murderer—or Jack’s son, for that matter. With hindsight, the resemblance was certainly there, not only with Jack but with his wife—her exotic looks. Both Jack and Stefan were so dark and brooding, with tragic good looks—even if it sent a shiver down her spine to think of Stefan in that way. Perhaps she didn’t see the connection because she was so used to seeing Jack in the form he’d taken as a reaper.

There was so much she didn’t remember. What exactly had happened to her? Now knowing Stefan was likely the murderer, she was desperate to figure out what had occurred. Panic bubbled inside her, as she scoured her mind for her missing memories. She remembered running into Stefan, and trying to get free, but everything after that was a chaotic mess of images that made little sense, the opiates keeping her shackled to her nightmares.

There had been Mason and then Jack. And she now remembered one more thing.

There had been pain.

***

In a futile attempt to drown out her imagination, Lilly proceeded to get drunk, so that when Mason finally walked into their room, she was in a state.

“Lilly? What’s happened, love?” Mason sat by her side, blocking her view of the fire, where she’d spent the last hour watching the flames and glowing embers.

She shook her head to clear it, attempting to pull together her thoughts. “Did you find him?”

He brushed her cheek. “We did. Jack, too.”

“Oh.” She had not thought they’d catch Jack. In a way, she thought he’d elude them forever. Her head was swimming but she tried push through the spirits. “What happened?”

“Stefan’s dead, love—by Jack’s hand.” The words were like a punch to the gut. Poor Jack. She knew how much he loved his family. To take the life of his own son… she could not imagine the despair he must be feeling.

Mason touched her cheek in a tender gesture, and Lilly knew there was more. “Jack’s here and would like to see you one last time.”

One last time… she knew what that meant, for the Elders would make sure he paid for his part in the crimes that were committed. She nodded, fighting back tears. “Just let me get dressed in something more appropriate. I’ll be down momentarily.”

After throwing on a simple linen gown, she made her way down the stairs, her hand tight on the banister, her legs shaky from nerves, exhaustion and drink. They were waiting for her in the sitting room, but her eyes immediately went to Jack, his coat doing little to mask the blood on his clothes.

“I’d like to speak to her alone, if possible.” Jack looked from Mason to Pierce, his face drawn and weary. Mason nodded and then tilted his head in Pierce’s direction when he started to protest.