Lady Alice stepped back as though she’d been struck by an unseen hand. “Who attacked you? Tell me everything.”
“Samuel Mortimer, ma’am,” I said. “He’s…”
“Next in line to be London’s councilor. Of course. Of course.” Lady Alice said, blinking several times in quick succession. Finally, she placed her hand over her mouth to compose herself. “Samuel Mortimer? Why, we’ve been to his house. We’ve been to the Continent with him. Are you saying that…”
“Yes,” Damon said, seething with impatience. “He’s a vampire, and no one’s noticed. Not even you.”
“Well, he must have some powerful magic on his side,” Lady Alice said, ignoring Damon’s rude remark. “But I’m powerful, too. And I can protect Mary Jane. It’s the least I can do after all these years. Come,” she said, putting her hand on Mary Jane’s shoulder and urging her inside.
“Wait!” I called. “You need to let us in, too. We may be vampires, but we’re committed to destroying Samuel. That’s why we’re here. Cora, too. He turned her sister into a vampire.”
Lady Alice whirled around, her lips set in a firm line. “Why should I help you? I’m thankful you saved Mary Jane, but I don’t see how getting involved in a battle with a vampire would benefit me.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Jemima said, stepping in front of us. “I’m involved, and so are three other witches. Whether you like it or not, this is a war. And Samuel will think nothing of going after anyone connected to Mary Jane if he thinks it would help him. He’s done his research. As someone who was planning to adopt Mary Jane, I’m sure your name appears in some ledgers,” Jemima said, as if issuing a challenge. “It wouldn’t take much for him to come after you, too.”
“She’s right. And Stefan and I know how Samuel works. We’ll be helping you as much as you’re helping us. And we all want to help Mary Jane,” Damon said, taking a step closer to Alice. His foot toed the entrance to the door, and I knew we were both wondering how we could possibly get Alice to invite us in.
“Well, let’s talk,” she said reluctantly. She stepped into the portico and closed the door behind her. “Not inside. You understand, I’m sure,” she said. Her dress was a thin silk, and the sleeves were sheer lace, yet she didn’t seem cold, despite the chill. She also wasn’t wearing shoes or stockings, the clearest sign that she wasn’t at all any typical lady of London.
“I’m afraid I can’t offer any of you a drink. Especially not the beverages you boys enjoy,” she called over her shoulder as she glided through the grass. It was almost as if her feet didn’t touch the ground. She led us past the stables to a small hill. A rose-covered trellis covered its top. Unlike the vines adorning the fence, these were in full bloom and bursting with red and pink blossoms, despite the season. A small well, surrounded by low stone benches, sat beneath them.
“This is one of my favorite places. Please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the benches. I sat opposite her, and Cora slid into place beside me. Mary Jane sat between Lady Alice and Jemima. Damon, rather than sitting, leaned against the well.
Several sparrows flew over to perch on the wooden roof of the well, chirping quizzically. I thought back to the story of Mary Jane and the rat and wondered if the birds were speaking to Lady Alice. I suddenly wished my past hadn’t included a diet quite so heavy on sparrows.
“Now,” Lady Alice said urgently, leaning forward. “I know Mary Jane wouldn’t take the decision to consort with vampires lightly. And I doubt vampires would want to consort with witches, even if a life is in danger,” she said, emphasizing the word vampir
e in the same way she’d inflect dung beetle or lunatic. “This is about more than just Mary Jane’s well-being.”
“No!” I protested loudly.
“It is. Vampires never do anything unless it will benefit them. It’s the way you are, part of nature, same as the trees losing their leaves in fall.” She crossed her arms and appraised us critically.
“Partially,” I admitted. “The Ripper is Samuel Mortimer. He’s framing Damon and trying to kill us both.”
“And he’s still after me. I was able to hold him off, and they were able to wound him, but he’ll be back,” Mary Jane said flatly. “Damon says it’s because he’s looking for the heart of a purebred witch. Is that true? Do you know who I am?”
“I never knew for certain, but I had suspicions,” Lady Alice said, her amber eyes wide. “Your eyes, for one. I’ve seen a few powerful witches with them. But that wasn’t why I wanted to adopt you,” she added quickly. “I’m so glad you’re safe and you’re here. I’ll do anything to save you. Even if it does mean working with vampires,” she said finally.
“How does everyone know I’m a purebred witch but me?” Mary Jane asked.
Lady Alice sighed. “You have so much to learn, my dear. I could sense you were special, just like I knew these two were vampires. And Samuel must only have rumors to go on, which is why he was ripping apart any girl who seemed to vaguely fit your description. The only real way to find a purebred witch is to see her heart, which shimmers gold instead of red. That’s why the Ripper—Samuel—has been hacking his victims to pieces.”
Of course. The knife wounds, the innards torn from the chest…the gruesome murders all made sense. Samuel wasn’t simply trying to shock London with his murders—he was on a mission that we couldn’t even have imagined.
“Kind of gives a new meaning to the phrase ‘heartsick,’ doesn’t it?” Damon quipped.
I glared at Damon. Then I glanced over at Mary Jane. Her trembling lower lip was the only sign that she was terrified.
“So do you have any idea who my parents are?” Mary Jane asked.
Lady Alice shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid I don’t. But I do know that all the nuns at the orphanage thought you were a miracle baby. You were placed on the doorstep on the coldest night of the year, and yet, when they found you the next morning, your body was warm. That was powerful magic coursing through your veins,” she said. “You must somehow be related to a member of the Original coven. It’s our secret history, but Samuel has obviously done his research.”
“But why?” Damon interrupted angrily. “What’s so special about some witch?”
“You must be a young vampire,” she said, snorting in disgust. “How old are you? Two years? And don’t call me ma’am. It makes me sound ancient.”
“We both turned in 1864, ma’am,” I said quickly before Damon could butt in with a caustic comment.