HELENA
The carriage was well sprung, and relatively new. Lena and Abby sat across from Jack in tense, uncomfortable silence. Lena tried to focus on the distance they had travelled, and the turns they were taking, but she knew it was no use. He had probably instructed one of his minions to take them in random circles to conceal their true destination.
It was what she would have done.
"Where are you taking us?" Abby demanded.
"Please do not ask anymore questions, Miss De Lacey," Jack replied cordially. He had spent several minutes reloading his pistol, and now had it aimed directly at Lena. "I would hate to have to gag you. Quite uncivilized, don't you think?"
"So is killing a man in cold blood and kidnapping two women from a park," Abby replied, her tone sharp. Lena sighed.
"Abby, do be quiet," Lena said wearily. "Your anger is not helping our situation."
Abby sent her a sulky frown. "It's making me feel better."
Jack watched their exchange, that eerie smile never leaving his face. His gaze had a disturbing quality to it, up close. His pupils were smaller than normal, and his irises were a very pale, yellowy green. He did not blink often enough, either. Lena felt a chill slide down her spine. Who was this man?
More importantly, what was this man?
"We will be arriving shortly, ladies," Jack said with a satisfied nod.
"Arriving where, béte?" Abby snapped. Lena sighed again. Abby had just called him a beast. They were definitely going to get gagged.
Jack narrowed his eyes at her. "I believe I shall have to gag you after all, Miss De Lacey," he mused. "Your tongue is liable to get you killed; my master has quite a temper."
"How kind of you," Abby replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Jack just shrugged.
"Who is your master?" Lena asked softly. Jack flicked his wide, yellow eyes back to her.
"You will find out soon enough," he said.
Someone knocked on the carriage roof, and Jack gestured to Abby with the pistol. "You first, Miss De Lacey," he said pleasantly. "If you scream, I will kill Lady Helena."
Abby shot him a look that would have killed a lesser man, and stepped out of the carriage. Lena followed slowly. Her skin tingled, knowing that Jack had his gun pointed directly between her shoulder blades.
The sun was setting, casting a hazy orange light over the world. Crickets chirped and birds sang peacefully. It was such a sharp contrast to the dark, frightening interior of the carriage that Lena felt slightly dizzy. They were in a garden. A large red brick house concealed them from the street.
The two large henchmen, Alfred and Henry, waited beside the carriage. When Lena's feet touched solid ground, the red-haired Alfred grabbed Abby and Henry, the man with short, dark hair, stepped up behind Lena. He did not touch her, nor did he smile. He just stood there, silent and intimidating.
Jack gestured to Lena's cousin with his gun. "Gag her," he commanded. Alfred nodded and pulled a rag from his pocket.
Abby opened her mouth to protest, and Jack casually lifted his gun and placed the barrel against Lena's temple. Abby froze, eyes wide. Lena closed her eyes. It seemed so unfair, that she might die without ever seeing her companion's face. Or hearing his voice again. Or feeling his lips on hers.
"Don't," Abby pleaded, voice trembling. "Please."
"Then I suggest that you follow orders without complaint," Jack said gently. Lena felt the cool metal barrel disappear from her skin, and opened her eyes. Abby was crying silently, tears glittering on her cheeks in the broken sunlight.
"Abby," Lena said softly, "ne pleure pas, s'il te plaît. Tout ira bien, je te promets."
Please don't cry. Everything will be fine, I promise.
"You should not make promises that you cannot keep, Lady Helena," Jack said, his voice gentle and just a little bit... sad?
Lena glanced over at Jack, and for the first time she realized why he unnerved her so. Long dark hair, pale yellow-green eyes, and tanned skin...He reminded her of her angel. The one who had saved her from the river when she was a child.
But her angel would never harm her. Seeing this man, who looked so similar, was a slap in the face to her warm memory of the man that had rescued her.
She leveled her gaze on him, unblinking and intense.
"I don't," she said simply.
For the first time since he had appeared before them in Hyde Park, his smile faltered. His brows furrowed, and his lips curled down into a concerned frown. This micro-emotion lasted only for the briefest instant, a moment of insecurity that allowed her to see past his mask.
He was miserable.
A heartbeat later, his smile returned, glazing over his face with the unreadable blankness that always hid strong emotions. Lena knew that look well, because her father had taught her how to read expressions when she was a child. He had trained her alongside Greg, though they had all known that Greg would be the one to continue his education in the field of surveillance and reconnaissance, and Lena would not. Her father had insisted that she learn anyway, and she had mastered the skill of reading expressions.
It was how she had seen the fear that had flashed in Stanford's eyes the day he'd met with her in the garden. It was how she had noticed the utter hatred in Susanna Bennington's eyes the night of Ashton's ball.
She recognized it easily on Jack, now that they were surrounded by dusky light and garden lanterns, and not hidden in the shadowy woods or a near-pitch-black carriage. He was not at all happy with what was going on.
He jerked his head towards the house and followed silently as Henry and Alfred marched Abby and Lena up the garden path and towards the servant's entrance. Abby's mouth was gagged, but when her gaze met Lena's, her eyes were dry, and resolute.
"Thank you, gentlemen. Please wait in the stables," Jack said politely. "I will be there shortly with your payment."
The men nodded. The dark-haired one, Henry, was watching Helena with a thoughtful frown. Alfred nudged him with his elbow, and together they turned and walked around the house and out of sight.
"You will let them live, won't you?" Lena asked. She could not shake the look of pain on Henry's face.
"No," Jack replied, and if Lena hadn't been listening for it, she would have missed the faint hint of sadness in his voice. "This way, please."
There were no servants in sight as Lena and Abby were herded through the storage rooms and kitchen, and up the back stairs to the main living area of the house.
They were brought into a darkened parlor, with heavy curtains drawn tight over the windows and no lamps or lit fire. The room was nearly pitch black.
Lena glanced over at Jack, and saw him back out of the room and close the door firmly behind him. Lena immediately moved to Abby's side to help her untie the gag. Abby breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the rag fell to the floor. She turned and immediately pulled Lena into a tight hug.
"What is going to happen to us, Lena?" she whispered. Lena gave her an encouraging squeeze.
"Relax," she replied. "We will be fine."
I know he will come for me. He will save us both.
Something moved in the darkness around them, the softest whisper of cloth, the tap of shoes on cool marble. Lena whirled around, pushing Abby behind her, to face the source of the noise.
A single flame flared to life, catching fire to the wick of a lantern near the far corner. Lena watched the flame cast terrifying yellow shadows along the walls, stretching in a circle, illuminating the small table it sat on, the wall behind it, and the chair beside it.
From the corner, the darkest part of the room, something moved forward, a misshapen blob that slowly took form as it stepped into the circle of light cast by the lamp.
At first, the only thought that Lena's blank mind could summon was: Fur. Matted, dirty fur; a patchwork quilt of the hides of many different animals sewn crudely together.
Then, she saw the face.
It wore the skull of a wolf, with the bottom half of its jaw missing. It smiled its gaping, hollow smile at her, its eye sockets dark and empty.
The smell of blood hit her so hard she almost fell to her knees.
Her vision blurred.
Time stopped.
She was back in the forest again, running through the snow, bitter cold winds whipping through her hair. Snowflakes stinging her skin. Her mind in a blind panic, crying out for someone to help her, to save her.
Please.
Please!
But she couldn't speak.
Her voice wouldn't work.
She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
And even as a child, she knew what was going to happen.
She knew she was going to die.
Because it was gaining on her, a flickering shadow at the edge of her vision. Taunting her, taking slow, casual strides. Dancing through the forest in silent delight.
Hungry for her blood.
Hungry for her death.
Hungry for her soul.
Abby whimpered behind her, snapping her back into the present. She blinked, and felt Abby cling to her arm like she was drowning.
The monster just stared. Waiting. Head tilted like a curious dog.
Waiting for her to crumble.
No! Lena thought angrily. You have no power over me!
She refused. She flat out refused to be ruled by this monster any longer. It had chased her for years, it had haunted her every waking moment, and tormented her dreams. It had followed her, no matter where she went, until the night her companion had finally woken her from her terrors.
It had tried to control her; it had drowned her emotions in fear and made her numb to everything.
Until her companion had found her. He had saved her from her nightmares.
He had saved her from a life of apathy and detachment.
And he would save her from this beast.
"I will not run from you anymore," she said to her nightmare. "You are not real."
From behind those empty, dead sockets, and from beneath that sharp, gaping smile, there came soft, childish laughter. A hand - a small, delicate, human hand - reached up and pulled off the wolf mask, dropping it in a macabre heap on the floor.
Lena's anger dissolved, and in its place, she felt nothing but complete and utter shock.
"My dear Helena," Susanna Bennington said with a cruel, predatory smile, "I assure you, I am."