"May I offer you a drink?" She moved toward the bar as he took off his cape.
"Certainly. Whiskey straight."
She poured the liquid into the glass and handed it to him. "I hope this is to your liking. Madame Colette stocks only the best spirits."
His dark gaze held hers. "Everything is to my liking. I was promised a beauty, and I'm certainly not disappointed.
In one gulp, he finished off the whiskey and sat the glass on the counter. "Another."
Genesis eyed him warily because she found his stern, taciturn manner a bit unnerving. She poured him another drink and once again he finished it in one gulp.
Then he pulled her into his arms and ran a gloved finger down her cheek. "Shall we get started then?"
She nodded as she stared into his deep-set eyes. A remembered story came to her mind. The gates of hell surrounded by pools of black, unreflective water. The dark, stagnant lake a fitting companion to the place of eternal torment.
"Are you all right, Genesis?" He gave her a cold smile. "That is your name, isn't it?"
"Yes sir." She wasn't fine, and wished to be anywhere except in this room. Her nerve deserted her, or perhaps it was something about him which made her flesh crawl.
She tried to rally her spirits. "You know my name. May I know yours?"
She smiled. "Hello, John."
"But you might know me better by the name the newspapers have given me."
"And what might that be?"
"Why, Jack the Ripper, of course."
* * * *
"Will you be going out tonight, sir?" The coachman stood in the doorway to the bedroom and gave Alex an inquiring glance.
Alex considered the question as he washed away the dust from the journey. He had recently arrived at his estate in Paris and was weary from the trip across the channel. Surely he could wait another night before visiting the brothel.
He shook his head. "I think not."
"Very good, sir." The servant turned to leave.
"Wait," he said. "I've changed my mind. I'd like the coach ready in an hour."
He found he couldn't wait until tomorrow to see her again.
* * * *
"If this is joke, I find it in poor taste." Genesis edged away from the man and moved slowly toward the bell. She had only to reach it and the eunuchs would arrive.
As if anticipating her movements, he caught her wrist and dragged her towards him. "If you knew me at all, you'd realize I don't go in for jokes. I'm afraid this is deadly serious business."
"You're hurting me." She struggled against him, but his body was unyielding.
"I know I am." He smiled. "I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you much more before this evening is over."
She opened her mouth to scream, but he slammed his fist into her cheek and she was plunged into darkness.
* * * *
Alex couldn't understand the sense of urgency which spurred him to push the horses to their limit. A niggling fear grew in his mind, but he had no idea of its source. Genesis's beautiful face flashed in front of him and then he saw it torn to pieces. Dear God! What was wrong with him?
A drunken man stepped in front of his carriage and he deftly maneuvered the horses to avoid hitting him. For God's sake, he didn't have time to waste on drunken fools. Genesis needed him.
Where had that thought come from?
* * * *
Alex, where are you?
She called to him as she was lowered into the coffin. For the first time, she realized the dream had been a warning. She had now met the dark man from her nightmares in the flesh, and he was a creature of untold malevolence.
I'm on my way, Genesis. I'll be there soon.
And then he was by her side as they sat together in a sunny spot in the garden. He held her in his arms and caressed her, promising never to leave again. Even the birds sensed their happiness and serenaded them with the sweetest songs imaginable. The air was perfumed with the scent of roses.
Some part of her knew it was only dream, but she clung to it like a lifeline. Flickering her eyelids, she saw the evil man standing next to the dresser. Opening a black medical bag, he took out an instrument of some sort. It was thin with a lethal-looking blade. He held it against his thumb and a trickle of blood stained the shiny surface.
A surgeon's scalpel.
She struggled to sit up, but the darkness enveloped her once again.
Alex, it's too late. I'm so sorry about everything.
Alex frowned as he stood in the garden below her room.
Something wasn't right. The curtains were drawn and light spilled from behind the thick draperies. She had never closed them before, so why was she doing it tonight? Then he saw that the windows themselves were shut, although it was an unseasonably warm evening.
"Bloody hell." He didn't waste a moment before sprinting across the lawn and entering the house. He passed the parlor full of well-dressed men playing cards and enjoying the companionship of beautiful women. He took the stairs two at a time and then rushed down the hallway. As he turned a corner, he collided with one of the Nubian eunuchs. The force of the impact sent both men sprawling across the floor.
Alex scrambled to his feet. "Come with me. There's a problem with one of the women."
The Nubian nodded and followed him. They flew down the hallway until they reached Genesis's room. Alex turned the knob and found the door locked.
"Genesis, open the door!" Could that be his voice so high-pitched and terrified?
He threw himself against the door, but the wood was solid and didn't yield to the power of his body, even after several attempts to break it down.
Suddenly, he saw her bedroom in his mind's eye. Blood everywhere. Saturating the carpet. Staining the walls in dark, ugly splotches of color.
Her
blood on every surface, dripping from the crystal vases which sat on the dresser.
* * * *
Genesis opened her eyes and found him standing over her, the scalpel gripped in his hand. She tried to scream, but realized her mouth was gagged. She tasted bile and feared she might vomit and choke herself to death. With an act of will, she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths and bring her fevered heartbeat under control.
He tilted his head to one side as he looked at her face, as if studying an insect under a magnifying glass. He lifted the scalpel and she closed her eyes.
He roared with surprise and anger as Napoleon buried his claws in the expensive material of his suit, just as he had done with Alex. Genesis almost wept with joy. Bless that cat!
Her joy was short-lived as the man slammed himself into the wall. Napoleon screeched as his body was assaulted with pain. Over and over the man crashed into the wall until the cat slid to the floor and didn't move again. Genesis moaned as she took in the pathetic ball of fur which had once been spirited Napoleon.
"Fucking cat!" The man turned to look at her, his face etched with anger. "You'll pay for that God damned creature attacking me."
He advanced on her, holding the scalpel up where she could see it, as if her fear gave him pleasure. Then he brought it close to her face. She shuddered as the fierce blade was poised only a few inches from her cheek. She closed her eyes and started to pray.
"Look at me, bitch."
She felt a white-hot pain so excruciating it was almost unbearable. She saw the blood spread across her upper arm, drenching the lovely teal gown she had chosen for this special occasion.
The blood intrigued her for it was so dark it was almost black. She knew she must be going into shock because she no longer felt pain as she stared in fascination at her blood-soaked sleeve. The thick fluid flowed down her arm in streams, in rivers, in valleys of red. She wondered if she would ever get the stains out of the beautiful dress.
* * * *
"Help me break down the door," Alex ordered.
The Nubian threw his weight against it, but even the tall, stalwart man couldn't budge the solid wood.
A crowd of people gathered in the hallway, watching the proceedings with unconcealed curiosity. A moment later, Sylvie and Captain Murdoch appeared at his side.
"What's happening?" Sylvie demanded.
"I don't have time to explain," said Alex. "Get the key to Genesis's room from Madame Colette."
Without another word, Sylvie took off running down the hall. After a moment, Murdoch followed her.
Alex spared himself a moment to envy the man. Murdoch had found the woman of his dreams. If Genesis was safe, Alex promised himself he would let her do anything in the world she desired. If she wanted to be a prostitute, he would share her with other men. He would love her no matter what. He would do anything.
If only she was safe.
Please God, let her be safe.
The sound of splintering wood caught Genesis's attention. The noise came from a long way off, and she wondered if she had imagined this entire nightmare. Looking down at her blood soaked arm gave her the proof it was actually happening. She knew she should be more terrified of the man who stood over her brandishing a scalpel. But she was enveloped in a layer of soothing numbness which cushioned her. Below that, the wound throbbed with each beat of her heart.
The sound of splintering wood grew louder. Where was it coming from? The man turned and looked around the room. A moment later, he fled into the darkened sanctuary of the bathroom. Had the sound frightened him?
Suddenly, people burst into the room and she was surrounded by strangers. Then Alex's beloved face came into view. He looked at her with such compassion, tears filled her eyes. What was he doing here?
He gently removed the gag from her mouth, and then covered her chilled body with a blanket.
"Hello, Alex." Her voice was a husky whisper. "Why are you here?"
"Don't try to talk." He put a hand to her forehead as he frowned in concentration.
Sylvie gasped with horror when she saw her friend's bloody arm. Pushing her way through the crowd, she rifled through a dresser until she found one of Genesis's petticoats. She pressed the material against the wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding.
One of the eunuchs looked at her with pity, his eyes large in a dark face. She knew she presented a horrendous spectacle, sprawled across the mattress drenched in her own blood.
Captain Murdoch handed Sylvie a fresh petticoat and she replaced the sodden piece of linen.
"She's lost so much blood." Her voice vibrated with fear.
"There's a doctor downstairs and they've sent for him." Madame Colette's voice drifted from among the throng of people crowded into the room.
They had all forgotten the dark man as they focused their attention on Genesis.
"He's hiding in the bathroom," she whispered.
Alex bent close to her and took her hand in his. "I didn't hear you, darling."
Before she could say another word, her tormentor appeared behind Alex and moved swiftly toward the bed with scalpel raised. As if in a slow motion nightmare, Alex turned as the man attempted to attack Genesis with the weapon. Alex lifted his forearm to shield her from the blow as the man sliced the sharp blade across his sleeve. A second later, the deadly instrument whistled through the air again, tearing into Alex's chest. Blood spurted from the wound and the hot liquid splashed Genesis in the face.
"Alex!" A primitive howl tore from her throat, a moan of agony reserved for the dead and dying.
Then darkness descended upon her once again.
* * * *
Genesis awoke to a white, sterile environment devoid of color or character. The smell of alcohol and disinfectant hung in the air and stung her nose. Adjusting her eyes to the light, she saw Madame Colette and Sylvie sitting on either side of the bed where she lay. Madame held a picnic basket on her lap, and Genesis wondered if she had smuggled food into the hospital for her.
Then she remembered the awful events which had taken place in her bedroom at the brothel.
"Alex!" She sat up as agony gripped her in its embrace. Her arm felt like a mass of seared and charred nerve endings. For a moment, the room spun around at a crazy angle, and she was forced to take deep breaths to control her rising nausea.
"Lay down, child." Madame's voice brooked no argument. "What do you think you're doing?"
"You mustn't get up yet," said Sylvie. "You've lost a great deal of blood."
"Where is Alex?" Genesis put a hand to her feverish forehead.
Colette and Sylvie exchanged a look.
"He's in surgery," Sylvie said quietly. "The scalpel nicked an artery."
"Oh God, no." She struggled to sit up again, but Sylvie stopped her.
"You won't get up and that's final." Her friend's voice was firm. "When Alex gets out of surgery, you can see him then."
"All right." Genesis slumped back on the bed. "But as soon as I'm able, I'm going to him. He needs me."
"I'll take you to his bedside when the doctor assures me it's safe for you to move."
"Will he survive?" Her voice broke as a sob escaped her throat. "What if he dies?"
"He's a strong man," said Colette. "But we must pray for his safe recovery."
"And poor Napoleon!" Genesis blinked as hot tears flowed down her cheeks. "He was only trying to save my life."
Colette smiled as she lifted the lid of the picnic basket. Napoleon's large head appeared above the rim, and he gave Genesis one of his signature bored expressions. Wrinkling his nose as if he found the smells of the hospital distasteful, he lowered himself into the basket.
"Napoleon!" Genesis began to weep in earnest. "Thank God! You silly cat, you almost got yourself killed."
Colette chuckled. "It would take more than Jack the Ripper to put this fat, old tomcat out of commission."
Genesis shivered. "Was he actually Jack the Ripper?"
The older woman shrugged as she settled the cat back in the hamper and closed the lid. "Who can say? He might have been the same Ripper who terrorized London. Or perhaps he was someone who wished to copy his evil deeds. We'll never know for sure."