Lillian Holmes and the Leaping Man (20 page)

Sincerely,

Lillian S. Holmes

When she finished her letter, George returned to her side and pressed a kiss upon her forehead. “Tonight, Lil. It’s far past time that you go out to feed on your own.”

“Why can’t we continue as we have been doing?”

“I understand your revulsion. Through your eyes I’ve learned to care more about my victims than I desire. Well, between you and Phillip, it seems like a conspiracy for complete rehabilitation.” He smiled, and she knew he was doing his best to keep the moment light, but it felt anything but.

“There is no escape from this?”

“You would weaken gradually. It is one of the few things that could kill you. I am not ready to lose you just yet.” He pulled her into his arms and she held him tightly, wanting nothing more than to escape to their room for another night of shared lust. “I will lead you,” he promised. “And I shall show you something fun.”

He pulled her by the hand and nodded to Phillip and Kitty, who watched them.

“Come, dear,” Phillip said, smiling. “Let’s withdraw for the evening.”

Kitty bore an expression of mixed sympathy and horror, but she shook her head and followed him up the stairs.

George led Lillian through the back exit of the house, down the short path to the alley and then stopped. “Whether you believe immortality to be a curse or blessing, there is one bit of our nature that never fails to bring pleasure. Enjoy this.”

Lillian stared at him in the moonlight. He wore a bit of a smile, and she thought again how handsome he was, how much he loved her. “And what is that thing?” she asked. She didn’t entirely want to know, but she did want to appear strong for him.

“Why, don’t you remember your pet name for your onetime foe?”

She paused before making the connection. “Ah! The Leaping Man. Truly?
I
can do the same?”

“It is a trifling, what you saw. See the broken gargoyle on the top story of that building?”

“You jest. It is five stories at least.” But she saw he wasn’t jesting. “How?”

“How do you walk? How do you run? You simply have the desire to do so, and then do it. It is no different. The constraints of your former life make it seem impossible, but you will overcome your fear after one try.”

“I should tumble or make a scene. I cannot, George. Perhaps I could try something lower, nearer by to begin?”

“That is nearby, and low. I will go first, and you will follow me. All you must do is have the desire. Do not keep me waiting long, as I loathe being out of your company.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and seemingly vanished, a whoosh slightly stirring the night air.

She looked to the building top to see him silhouetted against the moonlight, arms outstretched, waiting for her.

Lillian took a few steps to see if walking felt different to her now. Then: “Don’t be stupid.” She ran a few more yards, and the action gave her a desire to keep running, quickly and for a long time. This was new. She thought of Thomas’s velocipede, of speeding past buildings and the joy of that, of moving without being recognized. And as she looked up again to George, she wondered what it would be like to fly.

Closing her eyes, she imagined that her velocipede could take to the air, that she could look down on the city and that it and all of its citizens had lost their power over her. Which was true. In fact—she sniffed out a laugh at herself—what was the worst that could happen? If bullets could no longer kill her, what would be the issue with this jump?

With a deep exhalation she ran a few steps and then took a giant leap, all the while looking up.

“Go there,” she said aloud.

At first it felt like a fall, only one that made you go up instead of down. Within moments she found control and guided herself to land a yard away from George. Her limbs sang with energy and she hurled herself into his arms. As he lifted her from the roof and spun her around, she laughed.

“Again! I would do it again, right away!”

He laughed and set her down. “I told you so. What great times we’ll be having, hopping about town together. But first—”

“What is happening there?” Across the street, in a dark corner against a building, a woman struggled as a ruffian pulled her back, one arm around her waist, the other over her mouth. She pointed so that George could find the troubling scene.

“Blazes! I will take care of him!”

But Lillian was already off, without a word to George. While she didn’t experience the same enjoyment in her second flight, she felt triumphant when she landed on the ruffian with her feet, knocking his head to the cobbles. He looked up in horror as she growled and bared her teeth. Overflowing with rage, she lifted him up by the collar with one hand and landed a strong punch to his cheek with the other. The bone made a sickening crack under her fist, and she reveled in the discovery of strength pouring through her. “You will never hurt anyone again!”

She heard George calming the frantic woman behind her, urging her to run off. Still not satisfied, Lillian lifted the would-be attacker by the collar again and pounded his head to the cobbles. His eyes rolled up and he passed into unconsciousness.

“Love, be quick. He is no use to you dead.”

She looked over her shoulder at George, who stared at her curiously and with a bit of admiration. She turned and leaned into her victim, exposing his neck.

“What fun,” George said with a chuckle. “Another protector of Baltimore’s downtrodden. Won’t Phillip and Kitty be pleased.”

EPILOGUE

“Who is the chit?” Marie de Bourbon snarled as she and her companion looked down on the feeding that played out far below.

“No one of consequence,” Annaluisa mumbled, then winced when Marie turned and scratched her cheek with razor-sharp nails. What was the use of lying, of trying to protect George? Her efforts had already backfired badly, and having been forced to lead Marie to the Orleanses’ door, she knew her usefulness to this she-devil was coming to a quick end. How much longer would she be tortured, body and spirit?

“Try answering again.”

“She is a newborn, created by George only recently.”

“His tastes have not improved. Does she…mean something to him?”

Anna noticed a twitch of Marie’s lips, and she gulped. This would not go over well, but her resistance had worn down completely. “I am afraid to say she means a great deal to him.”

“Ah.” Marie quietly watched the pair below for a few moments, and Anna knew her guess had been right. Marie
had
loved George at one time.

“And she loves her maker?”

“She was dying, and he saved her.”

“George saved a dying woman? The George I remember would have barely been tempted to save a dying child, even when he was mortal. I knew him then, you see.”

Anna backed up a few steps; then her limbs froze, as Marie would not allow her to flee.

“This is really a boon. George can watch those he cares about suffer greatly before I feed on him.” Marie turned to Anna with a broad smile. “Why not begin with you, dear?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ciar Cullen hails from Baltimore and resides in New Jersey with her husband and a few cats. She started adult life as an archaeologist, worked in publishing, and eventually became a bureaucrat at a college. She loves reading nonfiction, traveling, and—sometimes—writing. This is her fifteenth book.

LILLIAN HOLMES
AND THE LEAPING MAN

Tormented by a tragic past, Miss Lillian Holmes nonetheless found the strength to go on, to become the greatest female detective of her time. To make her uncle proud. Except…he was not truly her uncle. Sherlock was a fictional character, and Lil was less a true detective than a sheltered twenty-six year old heiress with taste for mystery…and morphine. But then she saw
him
. Leaping from her neighbor’s second-story window, a beautiful stranger. With the recent murders plaguing Baltimore, here was a chance to reveal the truth.

Except, the Leaping Man was far more than he seemed. A wanton creature of darkness, an entry point to a realm of deception and evil, and to a Truth she had waited countless years to uncover, he would threaten far more than Lillian’s life. He would take both her heart and soul. And she would rejoice in it.

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