Savage Wings: Book Three of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 11

A part of me felt like this had to be a dream. This whole thing- from waking up downstairs, to finding Caelan dancing in the chapel with Lucius, to standing here staring at Josiah - felt like some kind of twisted, awful dream and yet I knew that it wasn't. Everything was too sharp, too in focus. From the taste of Caelan's blood on my lips, to the sting of my wounds, to the memory of Lucius' stricken face. Everything was just too damn real.

A clatter of footsteps behind me made me flinch as if I expected Caelan to have risen from the dead but it was just Harper who appeared in the doorway, his face switching rapidly from alarm to rage when he saw the chains and shackles dangling from Josiah's hands.

"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me," he snarled, clenching his fists as he started towards the seer.

"Wait, Harper!" I grabbed his arm, stepping in front of him and pushing my palm up against his chest.

"Tell me you didn't do it?" he growled through gritted teeth, jabbing his finger at Josiah who remained slumped on the bed, despite the imminent threat looming. "Tell me you're not that fucking stupid?"

"Harper!" I said sharply. "Go back downstairs, look after Lucius, please."

His gaze flickered towards me, narrowing slightly as he registered my words. "Megan, he let her go. She could have killed you. She could have killed you both."

"I know." I heard the tremor in my voice. Inhaling deeply, I moved in closer, wishing I could just hold onto him for a moment longer, needing something tangible, needing an escape from the madness that had taken over this place. "I know, but Lucius is down there all alone and he needs you. I'll be fine. I've got this, okay?" I locked eyes with him, urging him to listen.

"I'm not sure about this," he said hesitantly. "If he...."

"He's not going to do anything," I replied, shooting Josiah a cold glare. "Please Harper."

With a shake of his head, Harper leant down and planted a kiss just above my hairline. "Fine, but if you need me...."

I nodded and flashed him a brief reassuring smile that felt anything but reassuring. When he turned and walked out, I wasn't sure whether to be relieved that he had listened or petrified that I had to stay in this place that still smelt of her. She hadn't died here but the stench of death hung in the air, stagnant and suffocating. Or maybe it was just on me, tainting my clothes, hair, and skin. Waiting until Harper disappeared out of sight on the stairwell, I closed the door and leant up against it, biting my lip in an effort to stop it from trembling. My eyes swept around the room, taking in the assortment of objects on the dresser, still out of place from my earlier visit. It seemed strange to be in here without the gramophone scratching across the vinyl but I was glad of the silence. I wasn't sure I could hear that music now without seeing visions of Caelan dancing around the room, draped in red voile, her mouth stained with my blood.

"You knew I'd do it, didn't you? You knew I'd kill her."

Josiah nodded, but didn't look up. A tear fell from his cheek and hit the floor by his feet.

"When did you see it? When I got here? Before? How long have you known, Josiah?" I was struggling to keep my anger in check. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout. I wanted to fill this room with my rage until the walls shook, but I knew that I couldn't. I needed answers and the only way I was going to get them was by staying in control.

"I never saw it." His voice was croaky and cracked with an echo of anxiety that I wasn't used to hearing from him.

"Liar!" I spat. "All that bullshit about not being able to see my future, I can't believe I even fell for that! Was it all a lie? Even the story about Sister Agnes?"