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  It was true. It was all true. Her focus returned to Martin. “I shall see you in Hell, Mr. Martin.” His teeth gleamed as he took the last step between them and lifted the scalpel. “But not tonight.” She slid the candelabra forward and, without a moment's hesitation, with Mary Kelly's remains locked in her mind, she threw the glass of bourbon forward as well, scorching his face and bringing a fiery scream from his lips. He swiped out, but Cora jumped backwards.

  She ran around him, forward to Ursula. Behind her, she heard Martin drop, and the wolf beside Ursula growled. She didn't look back as the wolf leapt forward and she heard the snarls. It wasn't until Ursula's arm wrapped around her that she turned. The black wolf stood over an injured white one. A second later, his teeth tore into the white wolf's throat.

  Cora turned her head away into Ursula's shoulder. She shook. It was true. It was true. “Ursula, I cannot look."

  "Upstairs. Hurry, and I shall stay and put out the flames.” Ursula stepped aside and pushed her from the study. Cora's legs burned as she raced up the stairs. She didn't stop until she was in her room, the door closed, and she was curled beneath the blankets.

  She heard the pounding on the door below half an hour later. Another half hour and it had quieted again. She lay there with her eyes closed tightly, praying that Martin was dead. She'd expected a deformity, someone as twisted as his soul, to be responsible for the murders. She had expected a monster. It had been worse.

  The door opened and she whimpered. He had killed Baden and Ursula. Now he was coming for her. Now he would do to her what he'd done to the others.

  "Cora.” That deep, familiar voice found her, and she sobbed abruptly, with no control to stop the sound. “Cora, open your eyes. Look at me."

  Her eyes opened to find Baden there, kneeling at her bedside. “Don't be afraid. I would never hurt you. I know it should be difficult for you to believe given my kind, but I would never..."

  She flew forward into his arms. “I was afraid ... so afraid. I've never been so before. Not like that. I didn't think you would get here in time, that Ursula wouldn't find you, that..."

  "She didn't find me,” Baden interrupted, stroking her hair. “She has a whistle. I've always told her to signal me when something is wrong. It's just an official's whistle, but I could hear it no matter where in the city I was. Martin probably heard it too, but apparently didn't realize it was a signal to me.” He leaned away and looked down at her. “She wouldn't have left you alone if you were in danger. I came here.... to you."

  "You got him. You stopped him from killing again."

  "I did."

  "You will go to prison?"

  "No. The officials came. Ursula told them that The Ripper had come here and tried to attack her. James Martin tried to stop him and accidentally knocked the candles over. The Ripper escaped, but not before killing Martin.” He ran a finger across her face, and Cora felt like throwing herself into his arms again. “Ursula thought of the plan. I could think of nothing but getting to you, to make certain you were safe ... even as the wolf I thought only of you, was able to control it because of you."

  "I set your study on fire,” Cora whispered.

  "Ursula threw the very expensive Persian rug atop the flames and smothered the fire once Martin was dead."

  "You are a wolf.” Cora stared at him and shook her head. “I have never heard of half man, half wolf ... of the wolf kind."

  "Most have not.” His gaze dropped. “If you wish to leave now, I shall not keep you with me. If you choose to go to Webber, I will send you with enough wealth that he will be able to provide you with a comfortable life."

  "Why would you send me to him?"

  "Because he cares for you and would let no harm come to you."

  She could see it pained him to say what he did. He wanted her to stay, just as Martin had said he did. “If I stayed, would you be happy?"

  His gaze rose to meet hers. “I would, and be stronger, I think, stronger for you."

  "My virginity is no longer an issue.” She heard Ursula's muffled laugh in the corridor.

  "Indeed it is not."

  "You will not send me away."

  "Never. My heart would never be complete without you. I love you.” He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips brushing hers so gently that she felt like weeping.

  "Wait.” She leaned away. “If we have children, I won't have a litter or anything hairy, will I?” Again, Ursula's laughter sounded.

  "No.” He turned his head. “Haven't you other things to do than eavesdrop?"

  "Should I slay a farm animal?"

  "Wench."

  "Beast."

  "Close the bloody door."

  The door pulled shut, and he faced her again. “I cannot change what I am. But I promise I will never allow someone to hurt you again and that you will never have to fear me. If you'll have me."

  "Oh, Baden, I did not want to hope ... I love you, of course, I will have you."

  He kissed her again, this time deeply.

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  About the real Jack the Ripper Murders

  Shrouded in myth and mystery, the Jack the Ripper murders are among the most famous in history. To this day, the identity of Jack the Ripper is still unsolved. While the White Chapel murders numbered eleven, and at some point were suspected of all being Jack the Ripper murders, I focused most of my research on the original five murders determined to be the work of the Ripper. Those five are:

  ~ Mary Ann Nichols—On Friday, August 31, 1888 at Buck's Row, Whitechapel.

  ~ Annie Chapman—On Saturday, September 8,1888 at Rear Yard at 29 Hanbury Street, Spitalfields.

  ~ Elizabeth Stride—On Sunday, September 30, 1888 Yard at side of 40 Berner Street, St Georges-in-the-East.

  ~ Catherine Eddowes—On Sunday, September 30, 1888 just hours after the murder of Elizabeth Stride at Mitre Square, Aldgate, City of London.

  ~ Mary Jane Kelly—On Friday, November 9, 1888 at 13 Miller's Court,

  26 Dorset Street, Spitalfields.

  During the time of the murders, the poverty level in White Chapel was great. Women turned desperately to prostitution just to survive, and both men and women sought escape from their situations with alcohol. This created an effective feeding ground for the Ripper, and most of his victims were alcoholic prostitutes.

  Since 1888, Jack the Ripper has become one of the most famous killers in history. He has been portrayed and romanticized in both literature and film from tormented artist to misunderstood physician to charming ladies’ man. In truth, he was a vicious and ruthless butcher of women who, sadly, really did get away with murder.

  —Sable Grey

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  Author's Bio

  Sable Grey resides in the deep south of the United States with her wonderful husband, very spoiled dog, and three crazy cats. She spends her time researching her genealogy, designing cover art, watching movies, and reading.

  With favorite authors like Stephen King, Piers Anthony, and Iris Johansen, it's no mystery where the inspiration to write tales of love, adventure, and mystery come from. An avid reader and storyteller at a young age, Sable began writing small stories as a child for her mother. However, it wasn't until she was well into her twenties that she realized her calling was to share her stories with a larger audience than just family members and friends.

  Now, Sable is dedicated to her craft and to bringing her readers quality fiction with unforgettable characters. For her, writing a story means writing a story meant to touch the mind, body, heart, and soul.

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