The Ripper (The Vampire Diaries 17)

“Here’s what I can do,” I said. “I can get you the job back, and I can also guarantee Alfred won’t bother you. I can’t promise the job will be ideal, but I can promise that it will be better than it was before,” I said, knowing I’d have to find somewhere to feed before I would be able to effectively compel Alfred.

“Thank you,” Violet said. A slight smile played on her lips. “In my country, on Saint Stephen’s Day we honor the saint who protects the poor,” she said. “And I think it’s come early for me this year. Thank you, Sai

nt Stefan.”

I looked away, uncomfortable with her adoration. If she only knew my true nature, she’d be praying to her saint for protection from me. “Don’t thank me. Just stay here and rest up. I’ll go and speak with Alfred and find out what I can about Cora,” I said.

“I should come,” Violet said definitively, rising to her feet.

I shook my head. “It won’t be safe.”

“But if it’s not safe, then what about you?” Violet asked in a small voice. “I shan’t forgive myself if anything happened to you while you were out on account of me.”

“Nothing will happen to me,” I said, wishing that were true. “I’m not afraid to fight. But I won’t have to. Everything will be fine.”

“It’s funny, but I believe everything you say,” Violet said dreamily. “But I don’t even know you. Who are you?”

“I’m Stefan Sa—I’m Stefan,” I said. I refrained from saying my last name, worried it might scare her because of last night’s message. “I’m from America. And I know what it’s like to be alone. I left my family. It’s hard.”

Violet nodded. “Do you miss them?”

“Sometimes. I worry about them,” I said. That was true.

“Well, then I suppose we’re kindred spirits,” Violet said. “You truly saved me. I don’t know what I would have done in the park, there, by myself.”

“Did you . . . see anyone?” I asked. It was the question I hadn’t asked her last night. But now, in the light of day, I needed to know.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It was so dark, and I could barely see in front of me. But I felt the wind pick up, and then I saw the trees moving. When I glanced over, I saw that awful message. And I knew it was written in blood. I felt something. I felt . . .” She shuddered.

“What did you feel?” I asked gently.

Violet sighed, distress obvious on her face. “I felt like I was surrounded by evil. Something was there. I thought I was going to be attacked, and then you came and—”

“I brought you here,” I said quickly. I knew exactly how she felt. It was a feeling I suffered from back in New York, when I was sure Klaus was near. I fumbled in my pocket. “And now, your Saint Stefan has one more thing for you. Take this,” I said, pressing a pendant into her hand. It was a vial of vervain on a gold chain.

“What is it?” she asked, swinging the pendant back and forth. It caught the flickering light of the candle on the table.

“A good luck charm,” I said. Vervain was poisonous to me, and I could still feel its effects through the glass barrier of the vial. But I carried it everywhere. So far, I’d never had to use it. And I only hoped that Violet wouldn’t have to, either.

“I need luck,” Violet said, clasping the pendant around her neck. As long as she had that, she couldn’t be compelled, not even by me. We now were fully bound to each other by trust alone.

“So do I,” I said.

And then, she stood up on her tiptoes and allowed her lips to graze my cheek. “To luck,” she whispered in my ear.

I grinned at her. Hell itself may have been hunting these streets, but at least I had a friend. And as I’d learned in my long life, that was no small thing.

Chapter 6

In the light of day, the winding London streets didn’t seem nearly as intimidating as they had during my wild run the night before. Carriages filled the roads, peddlers on the corners hawked everything from flowers to newspapers to tobacco, and a cacophony of languages made it impossible to pick out any distinct conversations. I walked east, following the flow of the Thames, the river that had become my North Star in orienting myself in London. The dark and murky water looked foreboding, as though it had secrets buried far beneath its surface. I wished I could just take Violet and leave this city. I could keep her safe for now, but how long would that last? All I could think of was the look of terror on Violet’s face, her small voice, the strength she had to leave her family in Ireland to follow her dream. She had a courageous streak that Rosalyn hadn’t, but her youthful innocence made me nostalgic for the time when I was her age. It was my fault she had lost her room and board and I wanted to protect her in any way I could.

People are our downfall. Interacting with them is what undoes us. Your heart is too soft. It had been something Lexi told me many times over the years. I’d always nod, but sometimes I’d question why. Because while it was easy enough to avoid humans when I was in the company of Lexi, I seemed to instinctively seek out their company when I was by myself. And why was that so wrong? Just because I was a monster didn’t mean that I no longer valued companionship.

So when will my heart harden? I’d asked, impatient.

She’d laughed. I hope it won’t. It’s the part of you that keeps you human. I suppose that’s your blessing and your curse.

As I walked to Whitechapel, I stopped midway in St. James Park, my thirst growing. I knew if I was heading back to the tavern, I would have to be at my strongest. Unlike the nightmarish Dutfield Park from last night, this field was sprawling and lush, full of ponds and trees and pedestrians enjoying impromptu picnics. It was vast; but at first glance still seemed smaller than Central Park in New York City, where I’d once spent several hungry weeks foraging for food.