The Whitechapel Fiend (Tales from Shadowhunter Academy 3)

"Shadowhunters . . ."

"Where are the children? You can't have an interest in them. Show yourself."

"Shadowhunters . . ."

Gabriel and Cecily appeared, seraph blades ready. Will and Tessa reached for theirs. They walked down the steps, watching in every direction.

"I follow you," hissed the voice, which now seemed to come from below them. "Shadowhunters. I follow you home. Play my game."

"What is your game?" Will called back. "I'll play any game you like if you show yourself."

"The game is to hide. I like to hide. I like to take . . . the pieces. I hide. I take the pieces."

"I know you have form," Will said. "You've been seen. Show yourself."

"Spoon!"

The cry came from the direction of the dining room. All four ran toward the voice. When they opened the door, they found James standing at the far end of the room, spoon held aloft.

"James!" Tessa cried. "Come to Mama! Come now, James!"

James laughed and, instead of running to Tessa, turned in the direction of the great fireplace, within which a tremendous fire burned high. He ran directly into it.

"James!"

Will and Tessa both ran for him, but halfway there, the fire flared up in a multitude of colors: blue and green and black. Heat poured from it, sending them stumbling back.

It subsided as quickly as it had arisen. They dashed again for the fireplace, but there was no sign of James.

"No, no!" Tessa screamed. "Jamie!"

She lunged for the fire; Will caught her and hauled her back. Everything seemed to have gone dark and silent in Tessa's ears. All she could think about was her baby. His soft laugh, his storm-black hair like his father's, his sweet disposition, the way he put his arms around her neck, his lashes against his cheeks.

Somehow, she had fallen to the floor. It was hard against her knees. James, she thought desperately.

A cool hand closed about her wrist. There were words in her head, soft and silent, cool as water. I am here.

Her eyes flew open. Jem was kneeling over her. The hood of his robes was thrown back, his black-and-silver hair disarrayed. It's all right. That was not James. That was the demon itself, tricking you. James is in the house.

Tessa gasped. "My God! Is that the truth?"

Strong arms were suddenly around her, hugging her tight. "It's true. Jem's had a tracking spell on Lucie and James since they were born. They're alive, they just need us to find them. Tess--Tessa--" She felt Will's tears against her shoulder.

Jem was still holding her hand. I called for James, she thought, and he came.

Tessa stayed where she was. It was the first time in her life, she thought, that her legs had felt so weak that she couldn't rise. Will had his arms around her and her hand was in Jem's. That was enough to keep her breathing. The Silent City believes the demon to be a sort of trickster. It means for you to chase it around the Institute. Its motives are unclear, but they seem to be those of a child.

"If it is a child . . . ," Tessa began, almost to herself.

The others turned to her.

"If it's a child, it thinks it's playing a game. It plays with women. I think it wants . . . a mother."

Suddenly it was as if a great wind shook the room.

"I will play," called a different voice.

"Jessamine!" Will said. "She's inside the house."

"I will play with you," said Jessamine's voice, louder now. It seemed to come from every room. "I have toys. I have a dollhouse. Play with me."

There was a long silence. Then all of the gas jets flared, sending columns of blue flame almost to the ceiling. Just as quickly, they were sucked back down to the jets and the room was dark again. The fire went out.

"My dollhouse is wonderful," Jessamine's voice went on. "It is very small."

"Very small?" came the reply.

"Bring the children and we shall play."

There was another great whoosh of wind through the room.

"Jessamine's room," Will said.

They made their way carefully to Jessamine's room, where the door stood open. There was Jessamine's dollhouse, her pride and joy, and next to it, the transparent, gossamer figure of Jessamine. A moment later, something came down the chimney, a kind of fog that splintered into pieces and floated about the room like bits of cloud. Jessamine was busy moving about the dolls in one of the rooms and paid attention to no one.

"We need more of us to play," she said.

"It is very small. So many pieces."

The fog drifted toward the dollhouse, but Jessamine suddenly flared. She became like a web, wrapping herself around the dollhouse.

"We need more of us to play," Jessamine hissed. "The children."

"They are in the walls."

"In the walls?" Gabriel said. "How can they . . ."

"The chimneys," Cecily said. "It uses the chimneys."

They ran from room to room. Each child was found, sound asleep, tucked up into a chimney. Anna was in one of the empty Shadowhunter rooms. James was in the kitchen. Lucie was in Cecily and Gabriel's bedroom. Once they were secured, along with Bridget, the two sets of parents returned to Jessamine's room, where the shimmering figure of Jessamine was playing with a small girl. Jessamine appeared to be utterly engrossed in the game until she saw the others, who nodded to her.

"Now we will play a new game," Jessamine said.

The small girl turned toward Jessie, and Tessa caught sight of her face. It was pale and smooth, a child's face, but her eyes were entirely black, with no whites to them at all. They looked like specks of ash. "No. This game."

"You must close your eyes. It is a very good game. We are going to hide."

"Hide?"

"Yes. We shall play hide-and-seek. You must close your eyes."

"I like to hide."

"But first you must seek. Close your eyes."

The demon child, a small girl, barely five years of age in appearance, closed her eyes. As she did, Will brought the seraph blade down on her and the room was splattered with ichor.

*

"And it was gone," Tessa said. "The problem, of course, was that the rest of London couldn't be told that i

t was over. Jack the Ripper had been conjured up out of thin air, and now there was no Jack the Ripper to put in the dock. There would be no capture, no trial, no public hanging. The killings simply stopped. We considered trying to stage something, but there was so much scrutiny by that point that we felt this might complicate matters. But as it turned out, we didn't need to do anything. The public and the newspapers carried the story. New things were published every day, even though we knew there was nothing to report. It turned out people were willing to make up many theories of their own, and they've continued to do so since 1888. Everyone wants to catch the uncatchable killer. Everyone wants to be the hero of the story. And this has remained true in many cases since. In the absence of facts, the media will often make up stories of their own. It can save us a lot of work. In many ways, modern media is one of our greatest assets when it comes to covering up the truth. Do not discount mundanes. They weave their own stories, to make sense of their world. Some of you mundanes will help us make better sense of ours. Thank you for your attention this afternoon," Tessa finished. "I wish you all the luck in the world as you continue your training. What you do is brave and important."

"A round of applause for our esteemed guest," Catarina said.

This was given, and Tessa stepped down and went over to a man, who kissed her lightly on the cheek. He was slender, and very elegant, dressed in black and white. His black hair had one single white streak in it, completing the dichromatic look.

Memories assailed Simon, some easy to access, some hidden behind the frustrating web of forgetfulness. Jem had been at Luke and Jocelyn's wedding as well. The way that he smiled at Tessa, and she back at him, made it clear what their relationship was--they were in love, of the realest, truest kind.

Simon thought of Tessa's story, of the Jem who had been a Silent Brother, and had been a part of her life so long ago. Silent Brothers did live a long time, and Simon's foggy memory did recall something about one who had been returned to normal mortal life by heavenly fire. Which meant that Jem had lived in the Silent City for more than a hundred years, until his service was over. He had returned to life to live with his immortal love.

Now that was a complicated relationship. It made a little memory loss and former vampire status seem almost normal.

*

Dinner that night was a new culinary terror: Mexican food. There were roast chickens, or pollo asado, with the feathers still on, and square tortillas.