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The Butcher's Bill (Prince x LeatrixSage)

Dark Prince

Dark Prince

Star
Joined
Oct 17, 2012
Location
Xanadu
London, Fall 1881.
----

The wind was still on this early Fall day and a yellowish-brown fog of coal smoke hung over London like a thick blanket. The sun penetrated through that murky haze only weakly and the streets were as gloomy as dusk despite the tolling of the mid-day bells. On one East London back street, really more of a mews that had become a popular short-cut rather than a proper street, a cordon of blue coated policemen held a curious crowd back from a narrow alley between two warehouses fronting the Thames. There was a buzz that another bloody murder had occurred in this rough neighborhood, potentially the work of the killer that the sensationalist papers had already nicknamed the Butcher.

Two of the bobbies parted the crowd with shouts and waves of their truncheons to allow a black, open topped carriage to enter the cordon. The sole passenger exited by vaulting over the side door to land in a half-crouch on the ground by the surprised bobbies. He gripped a thick, dark wood cane in one hand, its metal end ringing loud as it struck the cobblestones hard from the force of his jump. His other hand held a small black leather bag with a steel handle. Straightening, he nodded his head curtly at the the pair of policeman, adjusting the black morning coat jacket that hung down like a cape to the tops of his leather, cavalry-style boots. A dark bowler hat sat on top of his head, brim pulled down over a pale and hard face that had brooding grey eyes and thin lips curled in a slight frown. A slightly unkempt mane of black hair hung down to the middle of his neck. The younger of the two policemen's eyes widened as he noticed a leather holster strapped to the man's thigh with a silver American style revolver pistol gleaming inside.

"Look lively lads, I want to know if any of this lot standing around has seen anything," the man growled out as he brushed by the pair of stunned bobbies without waiting for a reply. His gaze was focused on the the dark alleyway and he stepped into it carefully, cane tapping lightly as he walked.

"Oy, Cap'n, is he a Magician?" asked the younger, rookie policemen to his partner. He was still visibly shocked at the sight of an armed man, dressed like no officer of the law he had ever seen, vaulting out of his carriage to take over the crime scene with no hesitation.

"A Magician? No you fool," said his older, grey bearded companion with an exasperated snort at his partner's ignorance. " 'Ats Lord Ethan Colton, Her Royal Majesty's Magical Crimes Investigator. And he's no blimey Magician. Oh, he studied at Blackfriars College with 'at lot, but he dropped out and joined the Army. Fought in Africa for four years and two wars, he did."

The two bobbies crept closer to the alley mouth, peering in to watch as Lord Colton inspected the body. They had looked in earlier and found a gruesome scene. A young woman with her throat slashed and what looked like half her blood spilled out across the dirty alley. And on the ground, in her blood, a pentagram drawn. Definitely a crime outside the realm of normal police work.

"Now, 'is father was a Magician, 'ats the right of it. Royal Magician General in fact. 'At is, until 'is murder when Lord Colton were at Blackfriars. No 'uns figured that crime out yet, though there's 'em who say 'ats why Lord Colton took his current post. He knows a bit about magic, but the Lord's no Magician himself anymore than I am," the older bobby continued, enjoying his frequent chances to share his knowledge with the rookie. "He knows enough though, to handle 'is own against the bad sort of creatures as is out here at night. The demons and blood drinkers, and what'not." The younger bobby shivered at the thought. That kind of work was above his pay grade for sure.

The mysterious investigator placed his bag down and withdrew from it a monocle with dark leather straps. The red lens on the eyepiece glowed softly in the dim alley and both bobbies crept forward in fascination, brows furrowing and craning their necks to get a better glance as they strained to see what the device was. Lord Colton removed his hat and pulled the monocle over his right eye, adjusting it around his head with practiced ease. When done, he suddenly turned to glance up at the bobbies and fix them with that glowing red lens. They jumped backwards in embarrassed fright, then quickly spun away to look back at the crowd while swallowing nervously.

"Let's leave the investigator to 'is work, shall we then," said the older policeman with a shaky voice.

In privacy now, Ethan paced around the body and gazed through that monocle at the scrawled pentagram and blood spray that had even reached the brick walls around him. He knelt by the corpse, studying the wound on the throat and lifted a lifeless wrist to scrutinize a set of red scrapes on the pale skin. With a sigh, he grabbed his bag, cane and hat and walked back out to the mouth of the alley where the suddenly alert pair of bobbies were scanning the cordon and pressing crowd intently.

Ethan meticulously reviewed the onlookers himself, turning in a slow half-circle as he heard their excited whispers at seeing this stranger with the unusual eyepiece.

"And what's the news from the street lads?" he finally asked the bobbies, who startled at his voice. "Any witnesses? Anyone know the victim? Family found yet?"

The older policeman bobbed his head and replied. "She was found early this morning when they opened the warehouse, M'Lord," he answered hesitantly, glancing at a notepad he pulled from his pocket. "And no corpse was seen at close last night, on the workers' word. All her jewelry was still on her and we only opened her purse to find any papers. Her money was still in there, almost three quid, M'Lord. A porter in the warehouse claims he's seen her 'fore. Says she might stay at the Lady's Boarding House on Wapping Road, Miss Cromley's place. That porter's got an alibi himself, but ah've got 'is name down, to be sure. She might've worked at a factory, as a seamstress down by Limehouse."

"Miss Cromley's on Wapping, very good work, Sir," said Lord Colton. Then in a curt, authoritative tone, he ordered "Look into the factory and go door to door on this street. Send word to my offices if you find anything as soon as you do. Have them remove the body and clean up the scene, and get this circus out of here before the press makes up too many stories. Not a word out of your lips to the reporter and tell the warehouse workers to mind their mouths as well! Good day, lads!"

Without another glance, Ethan strode off and climbed into his carriage, his driver whipping the horses forward and parting the crowd with shouted warnings and vulgar curses. Ethan brooded as he placed his monocle back into his bag. Four murders by the Butcher in two weeks and still no clues to help him track this elusive killer.
 
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"That vulgar nonsense?" the abhorrent Creedy woman sneered over her hooked nose. Beady brown eyes bored into Elisa's back as the woman sniffed, and then dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief. The tea setting she was clearing away clattered nosily on the tray when the old bat smacked the table. "I wont hear of it," she was ranting at her niece again; the small girl was showing just enough poise to hide her fear. The Dowager Viscountess looked and sounded like the vulture she was. A hideous grotesque clothed in fashions a woman half her age would be too old for. The only reason the old bat got away with it was because young girls needed her influence. To be invited to the right parties to find the right suitors required a sponsor. And thus the poor girl shivering on the chaise.

"If I hear of you going anywhere near that theater," the old windbag threatened as Elisa escaped down the hall. She didn't understand what all the fuss was about. She'd been to the theater just the other night. It was a small, cheap theater. The Actors could not act and the play writes could not write, but the skits were fun, relaxing, and gave the simple man a moment's peace. Of course, the girl in the sitting room could afford to buy every seat in the house on her allowance alone. But, who you where and why you were there didn't seems to matter. The crowd was rowdy, and some of the themes should make any decent woman blush, but Elisa had seen nothing there to warrant the hag's outburst. Threatening the poor girl with scandal and ruin for being tossed by her sponsor was simply uncalled for.

"She's on another soapbox," Elisa sighed as she set her tray down in the kitchen and unloaded the tea set for the maid that would wash them. A chorus of groans answered her, and then the Butler. "Keep your voices down," had admonished not unkindly. "If she hears..."

"Our jobs," the head chief quipped with more than his usual ire. "Someone should give the woman a good bang." There was a spattering of giggles, but the sound died away quickly under the Butler's stare. "Get back to work."

"Rodger," Elisa sighed his name and waved her hand at the girls as they fled the kitchens. "What do you expect? The woman highers only young women that appear to be utterly naive about everything other than their job."

He glared at her for a moment and then, ever so slowly, the staunch Butler began to smile and his shoulders began to relax. "Then how did you get this job, Elisa? You see too much."

"I said they appeared to be naive," she answered as she doffed the awful paper hat and apron the vulture made them all wear. "It's nearly one, I'm going home. The old bat has already kept me an hour late." Rodger bristled, the cook laughed, and as she swung out of the room and down the hall toward the sitting room she heard him say: "One day, that little bit o' fire is going to but the Viscountess in her grave." Elisa smiled at the comment, but wiped it away before entering the sitting room and knocking on a table to interrupt the hag's tirade.

"What," she snapped, centering her beady eyes on Elisa. They always narrowed a little when Elisa didn't fidget or shrink beneath their stare. It made the Viscountess look even more like a vulture. "What do you want, Radborn?"

"It is after one, Lady," Elisa replied lightly, keeping her voice soft, but ever strong. Weakness was a drug to the vulture. "My day was over an hour ago. I have logged the extra hours from the week and the extra pay that is required." The old woman's face began to tighten and turn red, but what could she do? Particularly in front of her niece, and when a good lady's maid is so hard to come by. "Will that be all, My Lady?" Elisa asked when she did not answer.

"Of course, Miss Radborn," the old bat gritted through her teeth as she smiled. "Tomorrow, same time?"

"Of course, My Lady." Elisa curtsied slightly, turned, and left with a new lightness in her step. This was one of the view days she had felt like she had won.

"Miss, Radborn?" the crone's voice was cutting, and Elisa turned back in surprise. "Yes, My Lady?"

"If I hear of you going to that Theater on Fleet Street, you will be let go. Do you understand me?" Elisa felt her cheeks warm, and she curtsied quickly. "Yes, Lady." She fled quickly, her joviality gone. That old windbag did enjoy meddling in the lives of her ladies. Angrily she jammed her hat into place and viciously stabbed the pins into her hair. The heels of her shoes clacked loudly as she marched down the cheery little lane peppered with the nobility still in London for the summer. Most of the immaculate homes were empty, their winter time families far into the country to enjoy the graces of summer weather away from the smog and sludge of London.

Just get home, she told herself as she walked. Horse, people, carriages, they all faded into the background as she weaved her way through London. It was the most miserable part of her day. The walk home through streets that stank of human and animal waste, coal, mildew and mold. The cross through the city was awful, but once finally to the other side, the smell slowly faded. By the time she reached Wapping, it was a mild annoyance. Miss Cromley's Lady's home was far from the wealthiest streets in London, but Little Wapping was cleaner. Positioned around several small parks, it was common to see noble ladies strolling, gentlemen out for rides on their flashest horse of the year, and couples with their chaperons. Picking a house near by had been a wise choice. Miss Cromley's girls were known for being well breed, learned, and acceptable it polite society. It guaranteed them jobs.

Shame it did not guarantee respect.

"I'm home,"Elisa called out as she stepped inside. The scent of Lilies and rosewater reached her first, followed by the calming sent of chamomile tea. It was relaxing, but surprising. "Miss Cromley?" she called out as she unpinned her hat and pulled her lace gloves free. "Miss Cromley? Another bad day?" Elisa paused at the parlor, surprised the older woman wasn't there. She only broke out chamomile when a lady was upset or she had a headache. In both cases, she should have been there.

"Elisa," a high pitched whisper caught her attention, and she turn to find a younger girl, Maddie, waving frantically. The girl was high-strung, only seventeen and already shipped off to a Lady's home. She was a smart girl, she just spooked too easily.

"What is it Maddie?" she asked with a sigh, already smiling at the frantic mouse of a girl. "What great calamity has befallen us all now?"

"Claudia never came back last night." she hissed, her little heart-shaped face turning white as Elisa's smile faltered. "She's dead, Liza, they found her dead."
 
Ethan stood outside Miss Cromley's home with his monocle in place, gazing at it intently and ignoring the curious crowd on the street that watched him. It was a town home, rather roomy for this part of town and on a decent street. It had four stories and he surmised enough room for five or six ladies to board. Miss Cromley's home was of a type increasingly common in London these days as all sorts of young women flocked to London to find employment and ultimately a husband. Women who often had no money to afford their own place, nor family to stay with, and wanted some propriety as cheaply as possible. Ethan removed his monocle at last and placed it back in his black bag. He checked the safety on his revolver and strode up the steps to knock loudly on the door with his cane.

Miss Cromley herself answered, an older spinster with a drawn but kind face. She had been visited by the bobbies already and Ethan knew had already heard the news. After his introduction as a magical crimes investigator, she had a shocked appearance on her face, but led him to the rear parlor before returning with tea.

"I'm sorry about Claudia's death, but I need to know everything about her. Who she was friends with, where she worked, what men she saw and anything... unusual," he asked after Miss Cromley had settled down across from him.

She was stunned to silence for a second.

"Oh dear, Lord Colton, oh dear..." she seemed to think and shake her head, still griefstruck and shocked at the news and the arrival of a very unusual investigator. "I do believe she was a good girl, working at a factory and not having many men hanging around like some as 'is here."

She seemed to be too caught up to respond, but shook her head and continued.

"Only thing queer with her was her habit of going out late. We have a strict curfew here of 11pm on account of late shifts at the factory, or else I'd make it earlier... keep a young girl out of trouble is what I do when they stay here! And Claudia was often in just at the bell," she said with a sigh. "Not drunk or otherwise up to no good, but often in late. And her friend, Elisa, she's here as well, was often with her in the last month. Elisa came in late last night I remember, but poor Claudia. She never came home," said Miss Cromwell, bursting into tears suddenly.

Ethan nodded and gave a sympathetic grunt, but his ears had perked up at the mention of a friend. The Butcher's victims had been nearly random so far, men and women from the lower class but with no connection. If anything their common element was that they seemed to have few friends and almost no family they were in touch with. Often without a father or mother, the forgotten and destitute. Perhaps this Elisa might know something, a man that Claudia was close to?

"Miss Cromley, thank you.. is Elisa here? I would appreciate the chance to speak with her, my dear kind woman," he said, reaching into his bag to slide the monocle out.
 
The lace curtain shivered in Elisa's hand, clenched in a death grip between white-knuckled fingers. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. On the street below a small crowd was gathering. A few would trickle passed when their gawking reached the point of rudeness. Others simply stood on the other side of the street and stared. A man in a bowler hat stood among them, wearing a monocle unlike anything she had seen before. It's red glow was disturbing.

"Who is he?" Maddie whispered, her eyes and nose still red from crying.

"I don't know," Elisa answered her quietly, and then turned away from the window when his focus seemed to linger on the glass a little too long. "Go sit in the kitchen, have some more tea." Elisa gently turned Maddie out of the room and pushed her down the hall. When she seemed to be moving under her own will Elisa changed course and headed for the parlor. Her heart pounded against her ribs and a deep ache began to grow in her chest. Her eyes stung and she blinked the tears again. 'I will not cry,' she swore silently. Guilt was choking her. She should have known something was wrong. How couldn't she have known something had happened to Claudia? They were the same... 'I should have known.'

An unfamiliar voice broke her thoughts, and Elisa froze. She had nearly crossed the open parlor doors. Taking a deep breath, she took a couple of steps back, and then leaned back against the wall to listen. She wanted to know what exactly had happened to her friend. 'No, sister...' she thought. She wanted to know what had happened to her sister. They didn't share blood, but they had shared a secret unlike any other. They could hear the leylines sing. Taste them, feel them vibrating in their blood when they crossed into one. There was always that constant temptation to reach out with her mind and fold the energy into herself. She felt whole then. Claudia had understood. She had shared the same longing and fear Elisa had lived. Of course, Claudia's parent's hadn't tried to kill her... they had just gotten rid of her. A flash of memory floated in her mind's eye, but Elisa killed it before it could take root. She would not think of such things. Not now. What had happened to Claudia was sad enough without old ghosts tormenting her.

"Miss Cromley, thank you.. is Elisa here? I would appreciate the chance to speak with her, my dear kind woman."

She froze for a moment, frantic, and then hurried as quickly and quietly as she could into the music room. Miss Cromely was a sweet woman, but she hated eavesdropping. She hated all rudeness, really. Soon enough, the spinster woman click-clacked her way into the hall, calling Elisa's name.

"I'm here," she answered a moment or two before poking her head into the hall. "What is it, Miss Cromely?" she tried to keep her voice even, praying that any oddness would be taken simply as grief affecting her.

"There is," she hesitated a moment, wrung her hands, and then went on, "a gentleman here, Lord Colton, that would like to speak to you."

"To me," Elisa swallowed as she thought of the Viscountess's threats. If that vulture knew... "Why me?"

"Elisa, dear..." Cromley took one of her hands and patted it gently. "You know, you were the last to see Claudia, and you know her better than anyone else. You may know something that would help them catch whoever... whoever..." The strain on the older woman's nerves was too much for Elisa, and her resolve to avoid the man crumbled. "Of course. Go take some tea."

"Of course, dear," she nodded, looking around as if lost before offering Elisa a small smile, and then moving off to follow the younger woman's advice. While Miss Cromley seemed frayed, but calm, Elisa was frantic. She couldn't explain away the night before, although there was no one to place them at the theater. No one there had known them, so why should he ever know if she lied? Two women of no title or merit are sure to go unnoticed almost anywhere they were to go.

Elisa made herself take a deep breath, and then blow it out quickly. Her shoulders relaxed and the tension left her body. "No fear, Elisa,' she told herself sternly. Her high-heeled boots clacked over the wooden floor and the thread-bare satin of her skirts seemed to swish too loudly as she walked. She had doffed her short coat shortly after getting home, and now simply wore a cream colored blouse that buttoned up to her throat. A small brooch was pinned in place at the hollow of her throat. Her striking red and copper hair was piled into a tight coffer, not a stray strand to betray her. A picture of propriety, as was demanded by her place in a Dowager Viscountess's house. She clung to the image, and relaxed further. 'I have nothing to hide.'

"Lord Colton," she announced herself as she stepped into the parlor, dipping a short curtsy before coming further into the room. "Miss Cromley says you have a need to speak to me?"

As she found herself looking into one grey eye and one red monocle, she felt a crack from in her confidence. That thing made her uneasy...'why?' Her own eyes, the same hunter green as her skirts, shifted to the tea placement, and then she sat down and began to pour them each a glass. The motions were familiar and calming, they settled her nerves.

"How may I help you, My Lord?"
 
Ethan had strapped his eyepiece in place and gave the room a slow inspection before Elisa's arrival. He had built the device himself and it provided him a unique advantage in his role as an investigator of the supernatural. The red lens had been fashioned from the inner eyelid of a demon he had killed in Africa. The demon was an ancient monster that had terrified local villagers for hundreds of years. It had come to the British Army's attention after two squadrons of infantry had fallen victim to its hunger. Ethan had volunteered to dispatch the threat and that demon had been the first he had ever killed.

In its death, the corpse had yielded many mysteries as well as learnings through dissection, most notable was the revelation that he could use the demon's own eyelid to see their hidden source of mystical power - leylines that ordinary mortals could not see or feel. Magicians, of course, could tap that power, but even they did it blindly and through the laborious and complex arcana of spells. Demons, of all the supernatural creatures, could bend and control those unseen lines of magic that webbed our world. And besides seeing them, he could also detect the residue of their use and disturbance. Like an oily taint, or sometimes a smearing of black corruption, the demon magic left a tarry residue that faded slowly on the leylines. The residue also faded slowly on the demon itself after they used magic and its lingering traces enabled Ethan to see his foes despite often ordinary human appearances.

In Miss Crowley's house, there were a few, weak leylines present and all looked untapped and clean of disturbance. Yet still, he thought he saw a slight darkness through his eyepiece. The residue of a habitual demon magic used in small amounts which seemed to drift in the air of this boarding house. His hand strayed unconsciously to rest on the grip of his pistol. Someone at the home had demon blood.

Elisa entered the room suddenly and he fixed her with his gaze, saying nothing for a few long seconds. She was an attractive woman, no doubt respectable but of low birth like many of the girls at Miss Cromley's. And her green eyes were quite striking against the contrast of her red hair. But he inspected her curves not out of lust, though he did appreciate the nice swelling of her chest and the flare of her hips, but to seek any residue or lingering traces of magic. He saw none and unstrapped his eyepiece before standing to take her hand and, with a bow, give it a gentlemanly kiss.

"Lord Ethan Colton," he said as he straightened and gave her a reassuring smile. Such a contrast from the cold and alien gaze he had given her moments earlier through his red eyepiece. "I take it your are the lady, Elisa?" he asked as they sat back again.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your friend and I'm here to find the killer," he continued, studying her response carefully. "I am Her Majesty's Royal Magical Crimes Investigator, and have reason to believe her killer was not a mortal human. Perhaps we can start by your telling me what you were doing with Claudia last night? When did you last see her? Who was she with?"

His smile remained on his face, casual and almost friendly, but his eyes were piercing and alert as he sought to catch every twitch of her face, wring of her hands and shuffle of her body.
 
Standing under that man's scrutiny had felt obscene. She knew he had seen more than he should. Or felt that he did but... she didn't know just what exactly he was seeing. The fleeting idea of him seeing through her clothes came and went, but lingered just long enough to pinkin her cheeks. She had startled when he stood and his hand had taken hers, and then nearly pulled away when he had bent over it. The chivalrous motion brought up girlish memories of her failed debut to society and her following exile from it. The very thing that made her perfect for her job. She was one of them, or had been.

She hadn't had her gloves on, and the back of her hand was still tingling from where his lips had seared her skin. She wanted desperately to rub it away, but resisted the urge for fear of looking too distressed. 'Your friend did just die," she reasoned with herself. 'You should be distressed.

She was calm and collected at as he spoke. Of course he was here to find the killer. Of course he wanted to help, that was his job. But, at the mention of being Her Majesty's Royal Magical Crimes Investigator, her teacup clattered on the little saucer in her hand as her eyes snapped up to his. 'He knows!' her mind shrieked with fear as Elisa forced herself to breath. She forced her eyes away from the piercing silver ones that seemed so intent in seeing her soul, with the excuse of reaching for a slice of lemon. Her hand shook until she schooled her emotions and reclaimed the calm of before.

She let him finish his line of questions before she looked up again. Despite the clear, cold, clarity in his eyes as they watched her, she felt in her element. Duping, maneuvering, and out witting 'Them' had become a private game of hers many years ago. This Ethan Colton would be no different. Just another peacock with a stuffed shirt.

"Claudia and I both like to take our strolls in the evenings," she began to explain, allowing some of her pain over the loss to bleed through into her voice. "It is quieter, most people are at home and we have the parks to ourselves." Elisa smiled sadly as she shrugged. "Last night was no different. I left Claudia," her throat closed up as her eyes stung. Guilt welled up, swamped her, strangled the air from her lungs. She took a long swallow of her tea to ease her throat and then gasped for air as she set it down. She had left Claudia behind that night.

"I had left her," she started again, swallowing back the urge to cry. "Near the park entrance, not even two blocks from here. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit my pillow. I didn't know she hadn't come home until I cam home at one this afternoon."

The careful blend of truth and lie worked in her favor. But, something else was weighing on her mind. She had left Claudia at the theater because she had needed to be up early for the vulture. Claudia had been free to stay. Neither of them had ever needed to fear a man controlling them. Pull a leyline through their body and most will drop like a swatted fly. What if he was right? If something magical had killed Claudia, what had it been? Who was it?... Her mind was filtering through every face, but no one stood out. No one had done anything to stand out.

A good butcher never lets the lamb see the knife coming. A little shiver went through her at the thought, but was it not the truth? A hunter did not show his face until his fangs were in your throat. Otherwise, he would have been caught by now.

"She wasn't with anyone, at least not anyone that I know about." Sighing and pulling herself together, Elisa sat back in a less than lady like manner, slouching against the back of the couch. "I'm exhausted," she complained, whining in a way she had seen the vulture use on men of his ilk. "I am sorry I can't help you further, Lord Colton." She let her eyes find his and offered the his same phony smile back to him. "Really, so sorry."
 
Ethan stared at her, his light smile and piercing eyes never moving as he watched her answer. She was lying. Hiding something. The grief was real, no actress could fake the thickness in her voice and the slight tearing in her eyes. But, she had frozen when he had introduced himself and seemed to struggle and force herself to act relaxed. The trembling of her hand, a slight widening of her eyes, and a stiffness in her posture. Her face became an emotionless mask before she relaxed as she began to talk. Another motion had damped her grief at the start of their conversation. She seemed almost... scared?

He was used to intimidating people and wielded that fear to unsettle them. Many had broken merely gazing at the glowing red lens of his monocle. He looked at her thoughtfully and his hand went back to that strange apparatus. He lifted it and started to strap it back on to his head, slowly and methodically.

"I see. Thank you Elisa and I do sympathize for you in your grief. It sounds like Claudia was a close friend. Tell me. Did she have any other friends you knew of? A man perhaps? And was there anything... odd... about her?" he had finished reattaching his eyepiece by the last statement and stared at her again with that mismatched gaze. One eye grey and piercing, the other inhuman and glowing red malevolently.

Although the monocle provided no truth detecting capabilities, its ominous gaze was scary enough for many to assume it did let him pierce their lies. The stress alone of trying to lie in the face of that magical scrutiny was enough to make seasoned criminals flounder.

"Do not shy from the truth, Lady Elisa," he said, voice growing cold and smile disappearing. "This tool lets me see many things. Magic. The lines. And untruths."

He let his words sink in, watching to see how she reacted to his mention of magic... and lines. Lines were definitely a word most human mortals wouldn't understand. She had no residue of demon taint on her now, so perhaps she was human. Maybe her friend had the blood, or even another woman in the boarding house. He would have to interview them all.

"Tell me again, why did you leave Claudia last night alone? Who was she with?"
 
That... thing... was starting to become a problem. What was it? Elisa caught herself staring and adjusted her attention to the one silvery eye she could still see. The red glow.. something about it... "No, she had no gentlemen friends," she answered smoothly, a truth. At his question of there being something odd, her focus sharpened. "Odd, My Lord?" she pretended to think on the subject, fishing around for something before letting a whimsical smile twist the left corner of her lips upward. "She had a habit of singing, all the time, no matter what she did. But, I don't think that's the kind of odd you mean." Again, truth, but not really answering the question.

Being called 'Lady' Elisa made her flinch. She felt the hate boil in her blood, by stymied the emotion quickly. Did he know about her family, then? Was that why he had kissed her hand? 'May the Devil take you if you do,' she thought.

The rest of what he said caught her off guard. That thing let him see leylines? Her eyes focused on the red glow again, and then her heart skipped a beat. She was a fool! Without thinking, her eyes darted just to the left of both of them, and then back to the device he wore. The glow was the same. The same bloody tinge of color. Each line was like a vein or artery of the earth herself. That is what she was seeing in it, the haze of line energy.

"I haven't told you any untruths," she answered in a small whine. It was distasteful, but behaving weak and docile had it's advantages. When he asked his question again, she heaved a sad sigh and shook her head. "I left her at the park because the Viscountess required me earlier than usual today. She was stargazing. We were so close to home that, I thought nothing of it. There has never been trouble or danger here. Why would anything magical have wanted Claudia?" The question was out before she knew she was asking it, but once it was said allowed, she wanted to know the answer. "Why would they hurt her? She was just a girl. Kind, gentle hearted, a little naive, maybe, but that is rarely seen as a fault in your circles."

Elisa sat forward, resting her hands on her knees and dropping her head into her hands. She was well aware that her shirt pulled tight across her chest. The corset beneath it strained at the odd angle of how she sat; the whale boning bit into her waist while it seemed to tighten around her. The effect was small and merely tightened the material across her chest to press her breasts higher. But, experience had shown it to be enough to distract, at least.

"Why Claudia," she murmured the honest question. "Why her?"

If something magical had wanted... a snack.... why Claudia? After all, Elisa was stronger, a better food source. Why would they feed off a weakling? It was like asking a nobleman to eat rats to stay alive. So then, what was this puzzle missing?
 
Ethan let his unsettling gaze rest on Elisa as she answered his questions. The woman was good, quite good, at dissembling. But he caught clues, or he thought he did, that she might be evading the truth or even outright lying.

The banal answers she gave about Claudia were too carefully chosen and designed to throw off suspicion. What was she hiding? Who was she protecting? Her supposed friend was dead and she wasn't being forthright in helping an officer of the law find the killer. And her reaction to being called a lady, a flash of anger for a second. Interesting. Something there hit close to home and he would have to ask Miss Cromley about Elisa's background.

But when he mentioned lines, he saw her eyes move. A subtle gesture and easily missed. Certainly nothing any human would think odd. Ethan, however, knew she had glanced directly at the main line that shone in their room, bisecting it to their left. She could see leylines. This was no coincidence.

Demons were the main wielders of leylines, but various other supernatural creatures could see them and tap them. Mostly benign, rare and harmless, pixies, faeries, elves, and assorted other shy and hidden creatures that typically could not blend in with humans due to their appearance. No bloodrinkers or lycans could see or use them. Demons, however, could have human or near-human forms. Demons also spawned half-bloods or quarter-bloods. Those bastard mixes were very human in appearance and also sometimes gifted with control of leylines, though typically in less power than a full-blood. And demons, while not always dangerous and evil, had an inbred lusty and perverted nature that made them Ethan's most common and dangerous foe. In London today, a city of millions, he guessed that tens of thousands of people lived with enough demon blood to wield magic. Most were benign, or close enough, using their powers for minor mischief or advantage, but rarely crossing into criminal activity. And then there were those that were truly evil and abused their magic to wreak murder, seduction, theft and terror.

Casually and slowly he slid his hand under his black jacket to where his pistol was hidden and holstered, unclicking the safety. In his mind he recited the Magician's mantra, one of the first lessons at Blackfriars College designed to steel a human mind against mental influences from demons and other magical beings. It gave him some resistance to attack by leylines, not fool proof, but just enough in the past to surprise a demon and seize the advantage. He glanced down at his black leather bag where he had other... equipment... that might prove useful.

Then she leaned forward, baring her bosom slightly to his eyes. He forced himself to resist the urge to gaze into that delicious canyon. She was trying to distract him and he was wary of an attack.

"A killer they call the Butcher was the murderer," he said softly, gauging to see if she knew the name. She appeared to have no recognition. "A killer that has murdered three others in East London in the last month. All young, poor and with no relatives or close friends. People that are almost anonymous and forgotten in this great city. I don't think he...," he paused and stared at her harder, "...or she will stop at Claudia."

He stood up suddenly, grabbing his leather bag.

"Would you be so good as to show me around the house? Tell me about the other girls?" he asked courteously. He wanted to observe Elisa more and also see if there was any demon magic residue in the building.
 
While Ethan spoke, Elisa kept her head down, listening intently without really reacting. His stress on the fact that the killer could be female made her nervous, but she had nothing to hide in that area. She had never killed more than flies. And beyond that, she had been home. Anyone in the house could speak for her.

Her heart skipped a beat.

If he knew about the lines, and that she could use them, would he assume she had just made them all think she had been home?

The idea had panic threatening to overwhelm her. It squeezed around her heart and made her dizzy. She was jerked back from the edge in a harsh startle at Ethan's sudden movement. She stared up at him for a moment, her hand resting over her heart as she let out a slow breath.

"Yes, yes.. of course, My Lord." Elisa glanced around the room as if lost, collecting her scattered thoughts before she offered him a weak smile. "If you'll just follow me, then." Cursing herself, Elisa swept from the room at a quick pass, uncaring if the Lord Colton was left behind or not. She was beginning to decide she loathed the man. The sooner he was gone, the better.

"We have a private sitting room, just here," she began with the room across from the parlor, opening one door and pressing her back against the cool oak. It helped center her mind, and it afforded Ethan a limited view without being obvious about it. "We rarely take guests anywhere other than the parlor. This room is simply for the girls." When he leaned forward to get a better look, Elisa pulled the door close. Of course, this meant standing toe to toe with the man. "Oh, sorry," as she looked up, she realized how tall he was. She was not a short woman, and the top of her head barely reached his chin.

For a moment, her intentions backfired. She felt trapped. Elisa's pulse quickened and she felt her cheeks warm along with her blood... "Excuse me," she wiggled away from him quickly, shocked at herself. No one had ever affected her like that before. She glanced over her shoulder at him as she walked down the hall. Why was she afraid of him? 'He's just a man.'

"Our music room," this time she stood beside an already open set of french doors and waited. "Those of us that already know how to play the harp or piano teach the other girls. A couple know other instruments, but we don't have much of a budget anymore. It's a shame, really."

She watched him move about, the way he seemed to examine the dust particles one the wall with his inspection, and began to wonder just what exactly he was looking for. If that thing could let him see lines, what else could he see. Auras, the stain of use, intent, will, emotions... what were the limits?

Curious, she decided to find out, and she wouldn't even need a line to do it. Normally, her aura was bright blue. The typical color of a healer, a listener, the type of person that supports the weight of the lives of those around them. It was outlined with a haze of red, marking her as someone that had come close to death. Not in the essence of seeing it, but having nearly died. With a little focus, she could change it. A small trick used to make her more acceptable to different types of people. She had learned it as a child, and it had served her well. She thought for a moment, and then smiled as he turned back around, willing her aura to shine the brilliant yellow of a creative, passionate mind.

"Further down the hall here is the dining room and the kitchens. Up stairs are the girls' rooms. But, as I am sure you can understand, those are off limits to men... any men, My Lord." She motioned for him to come along as she turned to go back to the parlor, but paused after a step to look back at him. Her aura melted back to his normal coloration as if it had been nothing more than a brief, creative flair caused by her enjoyment of music. "Oh, and, there is Mrs. Cromley's office, would you like to see it?"
 
Ethan followed Elisa warily through the boarding house, carrying his black bag and hand near his belt ready to grab his pistol. She was prattling a bit and seemed nervous as she led him through the rooms. His attention was mostly on her, but he was inspecting for traces of demon magic. There was nothing fresh, but a stain seemed to linger in some of the rooms, particularly the common areas where the girls might be for extended hours of the day.

At one point, she had closed the door of the sitting room while standing before it, and Ethan couldn't help but notice her body so close to his. His hairs stood on edge and his hand gripped his bag tighter as he readied himself for some magical attack at close range. But she seemed embarrassed at their closeness and merely scurried off, afraid to meet his eyes. He watched her retreating figure, intrigued again at the combination of beauty and danger she posed to him.

In the music room, he noticed her aura change. Auras were tricky to see with his eyepiece, just a faint glow most visible indoors or in darkness. He kept his face impassive as hers flared yellow briefly, but at the sight he relaxed just a bit. Aura manipulation was one of the weakest and most common demon magics. Useful for manipulating people, making them feel comfortable, more trusting, or more angry and hostile. It didn't use leylines and was not a dangerous magic, although skilled users could be quite conniving and often were successful con artists. Perhaps she had that skill, but nothing more. He still treated her as a threat, for now, and the potential killer.

He stood in the hallway and regarded her thoughtfully as she tried to steer them back to the parlour. There were still other signs he sought to see in her that might perhaps give away her demon blood even if she avoided the use of leylines in his presence. How powerful was this lady, and what exactly was she?

"Lady Elisa," he said firmly. "I am doing a criminal investigation and need to see the victim's rooms and also review the others. Please clear them if necessary, but I absolutely need to go through them. The killer can leave traces that I can see. If, by chance, it is someone in this house, I would be able to tell."

He let her stew on that statement, gauging her reaction carefully.
 
Elisa's eyes flashed as she froze, her shoulders tight and her back ramrod straight. "Stop calling me that," she hissed through her teeth before she could stop the words. Her hands shook at her sides and she raised them to clutch them in front of herself. In a way, she held herself back. She forced herself to take a deep breath.

Relax

"I am no Lady, My Lord, I would prefer it if you stopped calling me one." Slowly, the temptation to lash out at him faded, and Elisa let her arms drop again. "Miss, will do. Miss Radborn. Furthermore, you are looking in the wrong place to find your killer."

Elisa turned her back on him and opened the door to Mrs. Cromley's office. She threw it wide, the door cracking against the wall from the force. "This is the last room you are at liberty to see. The rest of the house is off limits to men and you will not defile Claudia's room or her things."

She turned back to face him, already seeing his protestations and complaints in his eyes. Teeth grinding, she walked forward until she stood toe to toe with the man, glaring up into the one silvery eye she could see. She could feel the heat from his skin through her clothes. It brought a blush to her cheeks, but she tried to ignore it and the way their bodies brushed so tantalizingly close. "You will not walk up those stairs, My Lord," she promised in a whisper. "I will not let you, and I will do anything within my means to prevent you."

There was nothing she really meant to hide so much as having this man trample around Claudia's room, touching her things... it made her feel sick. The merciless, carelessness with which he would handle her things... Angry tears stung her eyes and Elisa shook her head as she took a small step back. "Besides, no one here would have hurt Claudia, and no one that does not live here goes up those stairs."

Hushed whispers caught Elisa's attention and she quickly took a step back from the man. Electricity seemed to arch between them and she ached to pull a line through him and end this here. God, and how sweet it would feel... Elisa shivered, and then glanced down the hall to be sure the eavesdroppers were at least out of sight. "If that will be all, then I will see you out, My Lord."
 
Ethan's body tightened when he saw Elisa stiffen and visibly struggle to control her anger at being called a lady. The fingers of his free hand relaxed open, ready to grab the pistol beneath his coat, and the hand holding his leather bag let one of the handles drop to better be able to reach inside. He drew his mind in tight, wary of a leyline being used against him. His bowler hat, now back on his head, was lined with iron and was the last additional bit of defense he had. He had no idea what Elisa's powers were or how strong she was and he eyed her alertly, a wound coil ready to spring.

To his surprise, he saw no magic and felt no attack, instead she charged him and accosted him with a reassuringly mundane and normal fit of womanly rage. It almost made him smile in relief compared to the dreadful demonic attack he had expected. Tears formed in her eyes as she stormed up to him to stare him in the eye, challenging him to defy her. She was evidently overwhelmed by the death of her friend and didn't want him poking around her items. There was real anger and emotion, but he was suspicious as to why she was so virulent in her demand that he not go upstairs? Surely she realized he could return with a patrol of policemen and upend the entire boarding house if he desired. Or he could simply barge by her right now, assuming she had no magical ability to stop him.

They seemed to realize together how close she had come in her angry tirade, her face below him and turned up slightly. He could lean down and kiss her pouting, full lips if he so desired. The curve of her bosom was so close to his own chest, her deep breaths threatened to press those soft mounds against him. His tongue froze, his angry response forgotten for a second as he stared into her teary eyes. Then she stepped back, cheeks coloring slightly as she regained her composure and wiped some tears from her face, looking behind her nervously.

Ethan was sure she had not manipulated a leyline or worked any other magic on him, but he shook his head to clear it nonetheless feeling as if he had been spelled by her beauty and raging emotion at such close range.

"...Elisa," he said, making the absence of Lady somehow quite noticeable, "While I understand you are emotional. This is my job and I will inspect this house, whether or not you wish me to. And if I need to restrain you to do my job, I will."

He gave her a cold, stern stare and gathered himself to force by her guard and proceed upstairs. Suddenly a blood curdling shriek came from the floor above and both Elisa's and his own eyes widened in surprise. Without asking, he rushed by her and raced up the stairs with his pistol out. He took them two at a time and turned the corner towards the sounds of a sobbing girl standing before an open door. He darted past the shocked girl and entered a small room with a wooden bed and wooden wardrobe. The room was in complete disorder, as if a whirlwind had spun through and emptied every article from the wardrobe out. Clothing, bags, makeup, cheap jewelry, shoes, boots and papers were strewn everywhere. The mattress had been flipped over and the sheets torn off. Even the cheap paintings on the walls had been torn down and thrown to the floor. The window was open and the breeze stirred the heavy draperies lightly.

But what troubled Ethan most was the taint of demon magic that lay heavily in the room. A dark and slick residue on everything, but also a stronger and pulsing overlay on top of the older signs, faint leyline's still twisted and snarled with the red aura of demon magic glowing about them. A very fresh and strong trace of demon magic, magic used within the past couple hours.

"Someone's ransacked Claudia's room... the killer has been in here!" sobbed the girl.
 
Elisa was preparing herself to tap a line when the scream came. Ice and fire seemed to travel together down her spine as she spun to look up the stairs. A moment later and Ethan was flying past her and up them two at a time. She reached out, intent on stopping him, and then Mrs. Cromley was at her elbow. "My god, girl, what happened?"

"I don't know, I-"

"Out of the way!" Mrs. Cromley pushed past her to follow Lord Colton as he vanished around a corner and down the upstairs hall. Maddie was blubbering by her side, but Elisa could find no sympathy in her for the girl's distress. Instead, she numbly raced up the stairs after the others. Her heart was pounding in her throat when she reached the top of the stairs. Mrs. Cromley was holding Sarah by the shoulders while she muttered something about the killer having been here.

"That's ridiculous, no one has been here," Mrs. Cromley was fussing at her gently as Elisa pushed by them. She sucked in a sharp breath as she stopped just behind Ethan. "My god," Elisa's voice caught in her throat. Someone had been here. There was old magic everywhere, but that could have easily been Claudia. But, the new traces... Elisa shivered and teetered on her feet. One hand searched blindly for the wall to steady herself as she took in the sight. Whomever had done this hadn't understood what they were doing. The lines were knotted and disgusting and tasted like tin and salt. It scraped at her nerves and made Elisa choke on air. She could feel them, like sharp fingernails on her skin, clawing at her, demanding a fix to the imbalance that was created.

"Excuse me," she gasped out as she turned away from all of them toward her own room. She leaned heavily against her door as she fumbled with the handle, becoming more and more frustrated until it finally clicked open. She could breath again. Her room was clean, nothing was here, nothing was changed. 'Thank god.' Elisa sighed and fell back against the wall across from her door. There was no new magic here, everything was in it's place.

Heavy foot steps caught her attention and Elisa's head jerked up to find Ethan watching her. Fear clogged her throat and her heart seemed to stop as he came toward her. 'He knows,' Elisa's mind shrieked at her to run... but there was no where to run. There was no choice left. As he drew closer, Elisa pushed herself away from the wall and walked as calmly as she could into her room. 'A small shock will do, just put him down,' she thought. She reached out mentally to the closet line and drew the energy to her. Stray strains of hair raised from her neck as if in a gentle breeze that she couldn't feel. Fire raced through her blood and the synapse of her mind, trailing the red haze of the leyline into her chi. For ones like herself, it would seem that fire in the form of dust swirled around her on a breeze that wasn't there. The display held a frightening beauty that she could never put to words. It, and the feel of it one her skin, she knew she would never be able to live without it. It was as much a part of her as her soul.

'Just one good zap, that's it.' she swore to herself. The temptation to draw more made her hands shake and Elisa cut herself off from the line, holding the small amount she had taken. Her heart beat heavily as she turned to face the door way. A delicate heat built low in her stomach as warmth flooded her skin. The sensation tightened her nipples beneath the abrasion of her corset, restraining her body's reactions within its tight confines. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she forced the energy she had gathered into her left hand, met Ethan's red and silver attention... and waited.
 
Ethan was studying the room when he heard Elisa next to him. The girl was flustered and clearly in shock at the sight. Perhaps she saw what he did, the twisted and tainted lingering traces of magic that made the strewn mess of belongings even more sinister than it appeared to the girls staring in around him? And then she fled, white faced and headed to her room. Ethan turned and followed her, watching her intently with one hand reaching into his black bag expectantly.

He saw her collapse against her door as she opened her room, clearly in relief of what she saw. And as he approached, her nervous glance and retreat further into her private room made him quicken his steps to pursue before she could shut the door. And inside the room, his eyes widened as he saw her.

The room itself was clean, he could see maybe a faint residue of old or small demon magic lingering. But in Elisa herself, he saw a surging aura of magic building. A small, faint leyline that crossed by the ceiling was curling down as she summoned it and she glowed bright to his eyes as that leyline became a nimbus of power building as she stared at him with fear in her eyes.

In a reflexive response, the hand in his bag threw outwards at her and a fine iron net flew in the air at her widening eyes. It was cobweb thin and could likely not hold a child, but as it spread the iron wires seemed to extinguish the glow and cut the lingering threads of leylines that were forming and pointed at him. The net settled around her upper body, her arms going up to catch it. She would throw it down in a second and be free of it, but the tangle of metal had temporarily dulled her and cut her off from her source of magic. The leyline she had tapped sprang away out of reach and her nimbus faded back to approach that of a normal human's.

Ethan didn't wait and moved forward with a set of cuffs in his hand, thick iron manacles with a stout iron chain between them. He snapped one on her wrist as she freed one hand from the metal net and heard her gasp in shock as the metal touched her skin and further dulled her magical senses. He grabbed her other arm as it flailed against him and forced that into the manacle as well. With the iron firmly on her hands and linked by the chain, he could see her magical nimbus fade completely and disappear as she stared at him in shock and horror.

He exhaled, realizing now how fast his heart was racing, and started to fold the net back up casually. Ethan was confident that the iron shackles would be enough to hold Elisa with no strong leylines nearby. With five points of iron, like the binding pentagram used by magicians, he could hold even the strongest demon and he would add the ankle shackles and collar later at his leisure.

He turned to the doorway, where the crowd of girls and Miss Cromley herself stared at him open mouthed and with looks of horror. Sighing, he began to shut the door.

"My apologies, dear ladies, but I need a private word with Miss Elisa," he said in a tone that broached no argument. "She is not as she seems and I fear will be leaving as my prisoner today." He shut the door soundly in their faces and turned back to face his captive.

Unstrapping his eyepiece he gave her a grim smile.

"So... a demon? Full or part?" he asked as he sat down on her bed to rest for a second. "I think you should tell me again, all that you know of poor Claudia and who might have done this."
 
She had been stepping toward him - feral with the raw power clutched in her left hand, seething just beneath her skin and begging to be released - when his hand came at her. She thought he meant to hit her and put her arms up, content to absorb the blow, it would work in her favor. She wasn't strong enough or talented enough to throw energy. Elisa needed contact to use what she'd gathered. When the net fell over her, her stomach heaved threateningly. Bile rose in her throat as every line in London seemed to be ripped from her mind. Their music faded until only the major lines were left, those lines that could kill the one using them as well as the victim. She sucked in a breath between her teeth as she realized what was happening. She had felt this before. The net was made of iron, or at least had iron in it.

Panic squeezed in around her heart as she flailed to throw the net off. The first manacle closing around her right wrist made her shout in disgust. She flung out her left hand, desperate to slam her palm into his chest. Before it could meet its mark, the other shackle fell into place. Elisa buckled as the air left her lungs in a rush. Every nerve ending seemed to burn, seared from the heat of the leyline as every drop was forced from her body. She landed heavily on her knees, pain shooting through them as she doubled up over herself, clutching her middle and gasping for air.

She heard him speak, the door close, and felt him move about the room. When he sat on her bed near her, her head snapped up to see him. Rage and horror fought for supremacy inside her. They were gone. A distant echo that left her feeling broken and starving. They had always been, always were... now they were gone. The pain of loosing them was near to breaking her when his words snagged at her thoughts.

"Demon," it was a whisper, utter confusion breaking through the panic that threatened to consume her. "I'm not... Demon?... No, no, you're wrong, I'm not a demon!" Elisa staggered as she got to her feet and shuffled backward until she hit the far wall. "I'm not, my parents..." her throat closed, and Elisa stopped. Her head fell forward and she stared at the floor while painful memories swirled through her thoughts. "I am.. me. Just me... I don't know why I am different, but I am no demon." She saw her father standing over her mother, the knife in his hand, the blood. So much blood... more than should be in a woman as slight and frail as her mother had been. His eyes... God, the hate in those eyes.

Slowly, Elisa slid back down the floor, hugging her waist and shaking as she shook her head back and forth desperately. "I'm not a demon! And, I don't know what happened to Claudia! I left her... I left her behind. At the theater on Fleet Street. She wanted to watch the rest of the show. I had to get to the Dowager Crone. I don't know what happened... I left her..." Elisa's eyes burned and tears flowed freely, but her voice was clear. High pitched and frantic, but clear. Far clearer than her mind, which seemed to break away in little pieces as she spoke. "I'm not a demon," she repeated over and over again, as if she were trying to convince herself more so than Ethan. "I'm not. I'm not a demon."
 
Ethan studied her with a dispassionate expression. She was not acting, he could tell, and was truly stunned and surprised at his accusation. Perhaps she had been raised in ignorance at her true nature. He'd have to examine her later to confirm any physical differences. His pulse quickened at that thought.

"Yes, you have demon blood. Likely partial. You can control and use leylines, manipulate your aura, can see the taint of demon magic..." he trailed off knowing she understood everything he said. Maybe he used different terms, but the concepts were well known to her.

"I'm going to take you back to my office, for questioning and examination," he said and began to search her room as she stood cuffed and shocked against the wall. He went through her meager belongings quickly, feeling a slight flush as he searched through the drawer with her corsets and underclothes. Nothing seemed to have any magic trace or was suspicious, so at last he turned to her.

"I believe you, mostly," he said to her. "But we may need to jar your memory a bit more. This killer is ruthless and if Claudia is a half-blood, like you," he stared at her as he said it, "Then I think you may be in danger as well. The other victims also seemed to have demon blood in them I suspect."

He stood up and gathered his items and took her by the chain of her cuffs, leading her out and passed the gauntlet of women staring at her with terrified and confused expressions. "Miss Cromley, please pack up her belongings and send them to my offices. We'll be detaining her as a half-blood demon for questioning."

A shocked cry went out in the crowd as Ethan gave Miss Cromley his card. The looks on the women changed to fear and disgust suddenly at Ethan's revelation.
 
Elisa blinked at him as he spoke, utterly confounded. It couldn't be true. Demons and humans... that couldn't be why! Elisa shook her head at him. "You're a liar," she muttered, unwilling to believe his claims. As he went on, her ire came back, burning away the fog in her mind. Being angry at him made this all so much easier. "Questioning? Examination? What else could you ask? I've told you everything. And what do you mean by examination?"

He seemed to ignore her as he walked about her room and refiled through her things. It was annoying to watch him toss her things about carelessly until he began to rifle through her cloths. As he picked through her undergarments, her cheeks flamed. Flimsy corsets, delicate chemises, and fragile stockings and garters were flung through and left hanging out of shelves as he searched for God knew what. At least he had the good manners to look bothered.

"Jar my memory," she mocked tartly, her ire giving her bravado. "There is nothing to jar. Neither of us spend time with anyone other than each other. Last night was a fluke." She yelped as he grabbed the chain between her wrists - more so from surprise than any pain or fear. His fingers had felt like fire against her skin where they had brushed her arms. The sensation made her frown. She had never felt so cold. Why had she not noticed the chill before?

As he opened the door and she met the stunned, frightened faces of the other girls, her cheeks flushed a violent red. Their fear was painful and she bowed her head to hide while he spoke to them. She couldn't meet the eyes of the women that had become her family. She felt betrayed and shamed by them. Surely, they felt the same about her.

Elisa followed him without complaint through the hall, down the stairs, and out onto the street. The crush of people watching there was even more embarrassing. The shocked cry that went up made her cringe as if she expected to be attacked. The disgust they had for her weighed heavily on her shoulders and Elisa found herself hugging close to Ethan's back. It was strange, but the same man that had clapped the iron around her wrists was her greatest protection against them. They made way for him as he led her along to the carriage that waited.

With a little help, she made it to her seat. Fear made her docile, along with a misplaced trust in his ability to protect her from them. As the open-topped carriage began to move, the wind seemed to cut through her clothes in a way that was alien. Without the warmth of the lines, she felt as if she were naked in a blizzard. Without thought, she scooted closer to Ethan's side. Her leg pressed into the warmth of his as she nuzzled herself into him, uncaring of how his arm pressed along the side of her breast. He was warm, it's all she cared about.

"What is going to happen to me?" she asked quietly after several minutes had passed and the place that had been her home was far behind them. She didn't expect an answer, but she asked all the same. "Better to know if... if I'm not going to see the sun tomorrow." Her voice trailed off as she looked away from him, unable to face him. "Better to know now so that I can be ready."
 
It was a long ride by carriage from East London to Charing Cross where Ethan had his townhome. For the most part, he was silent, brooding as his mind puzzled through the facts and information he had gleaned from today's investigation. He was aware of Elisa next to him, shock, stunned and humiliated by her turn of events. Gone from a penniless, but magically powerful woman, to a potential criminal and worse, now confronted with the reality of being a cursed demon. Even her magic had been stripped away by Ethan's restraints and he felt a strange twinge of empathy as the jostling carriage caused her to lean against him. Or perhaps she pressed against him? Either way, he was acutely aware of the swell of her breast against his arm and her warmth at his side. Demon or not, she was an attractive and fiery lady. He admired her courage and her unwillingness to back down against him. Admired it, but was also cautious.

Elisa's soft question stirred him and he realized the depth of despair she had now sunk to. Demons weren't all bad, he knew that first hand. But popular perception was they were evil and dangerous beings that were perverse, sadistic and murderous. Full-bloods were typically miscreants and had to be hunted and killed. There were few exceptions. But many half-bloods adjusted and lived with humans fine. In fact, there was no law in Great Britain that said a half-blood demon had to be imprisoned and for the most part they were treated legally like and normal human. Ethan was given more leeway in dispatching the more dangerous ones without trial, but many others he remanded to the police with warnings to keep them shackled at all times. They faced trial and jail for their crimes like any normal person, and were offered the same opportunity for rehabilitation upon release.

Ethan hesitated before he answered.

"Miss Elisa, you are a prime suspect in Claudia's death still. And perhaps the other acts of this butcher. You have demon blood, which is part of the signature of the killer, and you were the last person to see Claudia alive," he said coldly and factually. "I am going to hold you in my offices, where I live. I have special containment rooms for demons. I'm going to question you. If I believe you are innocent, or that you have committed no other crimes, you are free to go. It's not illegal to have demon blood. It's just illegal to use your magic for criminal gain." He turned to her at the end and stared into her eyes, searching them for her response and any deception.
 
Despite the fear that still constricted her heart, Elisa felt a sense of relief at the idea of being held prisoner somewhere other than behind iron bars in some dank, musty prison cell. Her wrists were aching terribly where the iron cuffs rested against her skin, but... in a strange way, she was adjusting to the oddity of not feeling the lines. It seemed a bleak existence compared to the one she knew but, not unlivable.

When Ethan's eyes settled on hers, Elisa flinched and looked away. Color rushed into her cheeks as a few choice memories ran through her thoughts. She had never used her abilities for criminal gain, per-say, but... she had used them to her advantage, and to that of the Lady's home and... those thoughts turned sour and she frowned.

"They had been my family, you know." She spoke without thinking, babbling to lesson the stress. "The girls were my sisters. Mrs. Cromley my mother... now..." Elisa shrugged and smiled sadly, "Now, I am a monster." Elisa took a breath to say something else, and then stopped. Her eyes widened, and then she grinned as she looked up at him again.

"Lord Colton, I am not the last one to see Claudia alive." She stated with a sureness she hadn't felt before. "I told you I left Claudia at the Theater on Fleet Street. I doubt I will have my job with the Viscountess not that I'm... well.. so I don't think it matters. Claudia didn't go to watch the show with me, I went to watch her. Claudia was an actress. Her whole troop saw her alive after I went home last night."

A sense of triumph streaked through Elisa along with a vicious delight. If she was what he said she was, fine. But, she was no murderer. "You can go there tonight, and there is no way I could have conspired with anyone. Mrs. Cromley knows when I got home, then I was at the Viscountess, and now.." she shook her hands to jingle the cuffs. "Can't do much in these, I assume you are well aware."

There was a quiet accusation in her voice as the carriage rocked to a stop. She sat in silence for a moment, daring him to contradict her before she turned away from him and helped herself out of the carriage. Running was pointless, she couldn't get far on foot and she couldn't protect herself anyway, not with the iron cuffs on her wrists. She had to find a way out of those, even if he did believe her. If he didn't... 'Right, head up,' she ordered herself, and then lifted her chin as she walked up the steps to Ethan's front door and waited. 'Where was he during my debut,' she wondered as she shot a glance at him over her shoulder. 'He would have been interesting to know.'
 
Ethan raised an eyebrow at her revelation. "It seems a convenient time to remember the truth, so please excuse me if I don't enthusiastically believe you. Ahh we are here."

He helped her from the carriage, noting her nervousness and longing look down the street. His townhome was large and on a residential street close to Scotland Yard. The expansive brick front showed at least four levels, all with cast iron bars in front of them. The door itself had a cast-iron gate before it as well. Clearly designed to ward off demons and demon magic.

She seemed to stiffen herself up as he led her up the stairs and unlocked the front door. His manservant, Handley, opened the front door with not even a raised eyebrow at the sight of the manacled woman Ethan led in. Handley had seen much stranger in his time serving Lord Colton.

"Lord Colton, will you be dining at home tonight?" he asked drily. "And shall I make an accomodation for the lady in a... special room?"

Ethan nodded and glanced at Elisa. "Dinner for two please Handley, I think our guest might be well mannered enough to dine with us. And yes I'll take her to the containment room on my floor right now."

Ethan led Elisa up two flights of stairs. The home was well decorated with antiques, oil paintings and various artifacts of magical nature collected from around the world. It was a home of a much older man than Ethan, Elisa would notice. A home that seemed to be decorated by an older generation and bore no signs of any influence from the younger Lord Colton's tastes.

He opened an iron door, glaringly out of place in the dark wood of the house, and led Elisa into a small room. There was a bed in the corner with an iron frame, a small window with iron bars outside, and a wardrobe and desk. In the wall were a number of iron circles, bolted into wood, evidently designed to allow Lord Ethan to restrain a guest in any number of positions throughout the room.

"Well, Elisa, this is where I'll keep you until we've sorted out what you are and how dangerous you are," he said with a brief wave. His eyes flicked to her and he looked away coloring slightly. "I'm going to need to do an.. ummm.. examination and search of your person."
 
Handley was... typical. He belonged here, among these walls and at the service to a Lord. And yet, he seemed out of place against Ethan. If'd she'd had to guess, she wouldn't have expected him to have a man servant at all. Of course, the more she took in, the more it seemed Ethan was the one out of place. She kept lagging as he led her around, not to be difficult but... because she was looking at everything. Every item on display fought for her attention. The oil paintings drew her the most. The layers of color and delicate strokes captivated her eye so much that, for a moment, she forgot about the uncomfortable circumstances that had brought her here.

It wasn't until he stopped before the iron door that she snapped back to just what was happening here. It wasn't a dank, musty cell. But, it was still a prison. Outside and in, iron seemed to be placed everywhere. Most seemed to be to keep things out. She even suspected there wasn't a single stray line running through his house.

The small room was... comfortable. For the cage it was... very comfortable. The iron bars at the windows were annoying, but gentle light came through the curtains. The bed seemed particularly strange. With the window and door barred, it seemed unnecessary to but iron on the bed. And the iron on the walls... she shivered, unconvinced there should be any need at all for those.

As Ethan spoke, Elisa raised a sardonic at him. Her eyes turned cold as he colored, and then her face became stone at his final comment. "An examination?" she asked with bitter sarcasm. "What could I possibly have on my person that you need to see?" Venom dripped from every word, modest indignation plain on her face.

"I think you have man handled me enough today, Lord Colton," she couldn't resist snapping at him even as she thrust out her hands toward him. "I've given you no reason to complain. A model prisoner in chains. No hysterics or stupid flight attempts. Get these damned things off of me, and I will happily sit in my fancy bird cage and await your good humor to decide wither or not you want to even attempt finding out if I am telling you the truth or not." Impatient and angry, she shook her fists at him when he didn't move fast enough for her liking.

She didn't for see much of a chance at snatching a leyline here. She was as uselessly helpless as any other woman against a man's strength. "What are you afraid of, Lord Colton?" she bated him out of anger, feeling more waspish by the second. "You have me utterly at your mercy in this. The least you can do is allow me my modesty and what minor comfort I can find. Particularly now that it seems I am the monster my father assumed I was and, according to you, the only suspect of a spree of murders."

He still hadn't moved, and Elisa's temper flared. She glowered up at him as she stepped closer and smacked the painful iron cuffs against his chest. "Get these God damned things off of me!" she hissed up at him in a whisper, enunciating each word with a vicious precision. "And then, get out of my cage."
 
Ethan stiffened as she confronted him, face going impassive. He was not unused to violent reactions when he had to search a suspect, but in truth most of the criminals he dealt with were men. These sorts of magical beings could hide any number of dangerous sorcerous artifacts, capable of freeing them from iron restraints and posing danger within even his shielded house. And he also liked to find physical evidence of demon blood. He'd built quite a collection of markers and signs over the years, anything from oddly colored birthmarks to actual tails, scales, or patches of reddish demon skin. It was a little uncomfortable when the suspect was a woman, but, although Elisa was definitely more attractive than any woman he'd ever held as a suspect, Ethan was a professional. He would just be doing his job. Why did he feel guilty though as she berated him now?

He scowled and felt his own anger flush over him. He liked to be in control; in control of his emotions, his investigations, his household, and his life. But now this passionate woman was making him suddenly feel like a runaway carriage pulled by a horse with the bit in its teeth. Helpless and out of control. How dare she make him feel guilty of his treatment of her? She was a half-blood demon and best friends with the demon victim of a violent serial killer. A prime suspect or at best his highest potential witness, dangerous and valuable at the same time. Potentially at risk herself with the attack on Claudia's room. Certainly she was someone that he should detain, question and throughly investigate as he would any other suspect in his house. She should be thankful he had her instead of the regular bobbies!

When she struck his chest with her cuffs he flinched and he felt his anger swell. He caught her wrists and held them tight to him, pulling her close against his body. As he stared down at her he let his grey eyes flash with displeasure.

"You insolent.. woman," he replied, voice rising and getting husky with his surging emotion. "You could be in chains rotting in the city jail right now. I should send you there myself right now. You could be at that boarding house, waiting for the killer to sneak back in and take you next. You could be dead yourself on the street, maybe just the next half-blood victim the Butcher stumbles upon by luck."

He stared at her dark green eyes as they widened at his threats, feeling her tremble against his body. Suddenly, as their gazes locked, he became very aware of how close she was to him. He could feel her heart beating fast against his chest and his own hammering like a trapped animal. It had been long, so long, since he'd had an attractive woman this close. Ethan had been so focused on his job and his own personal hunt for his father's killer, that now he realized with a spreading heat through his body, he had been a little neglectful of the fairer sex. Aside from being dragged to a whorehouse once or twice by school friends trying to cheer him up, he had created an almost monastic existence since his return to London. And the combination of Elisa's closeness, her radiant beauty, and both their strong emotions, was a heady and intoxicating mix that made him feel like a teetotaller swigging whiskey. He felt anger at her insolence, and annoyance at her failure to obey his orders, but her fiery passion was fanning other emotions that heated his blood in different ways as well. This woman had captivated him perversely all day and now, with her in his grip and so close to him, he admitted he was attracted to her. Attracted not just physically, but also because of her strength and will. She was a rare creature in this age of meek and subservient women, groomed to be dutiful and proper wives. The type of boring ladies that his peers foisted on him to court were like sheep compared to her fox. And even more enticing, while she was still potentially very dangerous, she was tantalizingly in his control at this moment.

He leaned down and kissed her. It wasn't a conscious decision and he didn't know if his rational mind had commanded his neck and mouth to move or some other primal instinct forced the motion out of him. All he remembered was that suddenly the world blurred to just her red and full lips as he brushed his own against them. And his kissed exploded quickly into a hungry and passionate assault, his mouth opening and his tongue slipping out and into hers as he felt her lips part to permit him in. And for a time, it could have been seconds or minutes, they were kissing and exploring, tongues swirling and playing, as everything else was forgotten. It was so perfect, except for the iron chains between them. That jolted him back to reality.

He broke the kiss with a start, cheeks coloring and eyes wide. His mouth gasped like a fish breathing air and he dropped her hands and stepped away, eyes sliding from her in embarrassment.

"My lady... Miss Elisa," he said, cheeks reddening further. "Forgive me. I... don't know what came over me." He turned suddenly and left the room, iron door clanging shut behind him.
 
Ethan grabbed her wrists and Elisa sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he yanked her close. She'd bated him to shame him, what she had sparked was his ire. As his voice rose, her anger returned. Somewhere in her life she had learned to replace minor fears with ire, it kept the fear at bay. It had made her difficult in her youth, hard to intimidate or maneuver. Now, it gave her the bravado to stand against his threats of sending her off to a jail cell. If he had intended to do that, he would have already.

She was going to shout back at him, but something stopped her. Her entire body seemed to be shaking. Fear swirling somewhere in the back of her mind, drowning against the anger she stoked into a blaze to keep herself fighting. She wasn't all together sure what about his eyes was bothering her until he bent down and his lips met hers. Elisa gasped against their heat, too stunned to move, and then his tongue slid past her lips.

Her heart seemed to skip a beat, two, and then picked up a frantic pace. She had been kissed before but... not like this. There was a hunger in his kiss that called to some forbidden part of herself, sent a streak of lightening right to her core where her body wept for him. Unthinking, Elisa leaned into him, instinct driving her heated response. She kissed him back, her tongue warring with his while their lips worked together to try and feed that hunger in him.

She was left staggered when he pulled back from her and dropped her wrists. Her lips still tingled, red and slightly swollen from his kiss, and she swore she could still feel his kiss upon them. He stared at her in shock... wither it was at himself or her... she wasn't really sure. He muttered a feeble apology and then...left.

Elisa stared at the iron door for what seemed like several minutes before she collected her wits enough to walk to the bed. Her knees wobbled as she walked, and she was glad to sit down. Never before had a kiss felt like that. Curiously, she reached up to touch her lips, and then Elisa began to laugh.

Lord Colton had left the iron cuffs.

Elisa was still shackled.

"Well I'll be damned," she muttered amidst heady giggles. "Very interesting indeed." Shaking her head to clear it, Elisa let herself fall back on the bed. Despite all the extra iron, it was comfortable, and after her early morning and eventful day, it proved all too easy to fall asleep. She was woken some time later by a knock at the door. Or, rather, a knock on the wall beside the door just before it opened. Handley stood there, looking every bit the man's man, and Elisa could not help but blush as she stood from the bed.

"Yes, Handley?" she asked curiously, feeling her cheeks redden under his perusal. She knew she looked decidedly rumpled, and she hoped he wasn't forming assumptions.

"Dinner is ready," he stated simply, and she relaxed.

"A moment, please?" he nodded benignly, but did not close the door. She gave the man an exasperated look and then turned her back on him. Her wrists were red now from the cuffs, they ached a bit, but seemed otherwise unharmed. With them, there wasn't much she could do but try to brush out the wrinkles in her clothes. Some of the pins in her hair were coming loose, others were far too tight. She could not really fix them properly without a mirror, so Elisa simply took them out, set them all on the desk, and then shook out her hair. It felt good to finally let her hair down, even if it wasn't exactly appropriate.

"All right then," she sighed and walked to the door to stand before Handley. "As ready as I will ever be."
 
Ethan retreated to his bedroom down the corridor with his face flushed and body trembling slightly. His loss of control with Elisa was embarrassing. Unprofessional. Immature. Weak. Foolish. He cursed his stupidity under his breath as he entered his private quarters. The servants had lit the room up already and arranged his clothing. With a sigh he undressed and slipped into his dinner attire, a black jacket with tails, black trousers, a grey vest and a black bow-tie. He still kept his father's customs and a dinner at the Colton House was always formal, even if he didn't have a guest like he had tonight.

His fingers fumbled on his bow-tie as he thought of that guest, cheeks flushing again at what he had just done. She had every right to be upset at him. But his hands were still as tied as the shackles he had placed on her. He couldn't let her go without further questioning and there was the issue of her safety with the butcher taking an interest in Claudia's belongings. He had to ignore what he had done and act his normal, efficient and professional self.

He turned to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey, sipping it in large gulps as he prowled his room restlessly. He slipped a smaller pistol into a shoulder holster as he examined himself in the mirror. He had aged, he realized. Lines on his face that were not there before his stint in the army. A sagging tiredness under his eyes that came from working long hours and late at night. A tightness to his skin, like he was stretched. He knew his obsession with his job, and finding his father's killer, was unhealthy. He pushed himself hard at times. Was there more to life he was missing? Another swig of whiskey and he felt his body warm and some of his tension dissipate with a gentle buzz.

The Butcher's murders had wound him up he realized and he reviewed again why they had struck a chord. Few remembered but years ago, when he had been studying at Blackfriars College and keen to follow his father's footsteps into the Royal Society of Magicians, there had been a similar series of murders. Three individuals dead in the slums of Lambeth across the river. Pentagrams and other occult signs scrawled by their bodies. His father had hushed it up with the constables. Ethan's position as Magical Crimes Investigator had not existed and the Magician's Society had been ill equipped to handle the investigation, but he knew his father had been involved personally. Then his father's murder had happened and the killings had been forgotten. And probably only Ethan remembered the murders had ended when his father had died. And he only because the nature of the murders had been his last conversation with his father. While some other magical beings used pentagrams, they were most common to be used by human magicians. For summoning and binding creatures or magic, and particularly used to handle demons. They pointed to a human behind the killings, and more worrisome, a human magician.

The bell rang for dinner finally and Ethan hurried down the stairs, anxious to avoid Elisa until the last minute possible. He entered the dining room finishing his glass of whiskey and found the table set immaculately for two. Following his instructions, Elisa was at the opposite end of the long table. A distance he thought safe enough given his recent indiscretion. A maid came and poured him a glass of fine Burgundy red as he waited, fingers tapping idly on the table.
 
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