Of Coppers and Cracksmen

by Katherine McIntyre

  She couldn’t waste the opportunity.

  Ellie slithered in with her blade aloft. The Butcher’s dagger rose to greet hers.

  The man might outweigh her, but he’d never match her in speed.

  Ellie’s blade sliced across the top of his thigh, and she dropped to her knees to avoid the overhead swing of his dagger. Ellie didn’t wait around, rolling onto her tailbone to spring back to her feet again. The Butcher took a step forward, but the slice along his thigh gushed—she’d aimed right for the artery.

  He tried to take another step forward, but his body wracked with coughs as blood poured out from his chest and thigh.

  Ellie kept putting distance between them, inch by careful inch.

  The Butcher of Broad Street keeled over, dropping to his knees as he tried to staunch the flow of blood. His eyes grew frantic, and Ellie took a grim satisfaction in the sight. Not like it would bring Mother or any of the victims back.

  “Ellie,” a familiar voice called from behind her. She spun around to see Bernard vaulting toward them at top speed.

  She heard the slosh of water from behind too late.

  Cold steel sank into her calf, and scorching pain followed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Apparently, spending time with Ellie Whitfield meant Bernard would need to develop an adeptness in breaking down doors.

  He’d begun testing the integrity of the one she’d locked him behind from the second she’d run away and he’d caught his first glimpse of the Butcher racing after her. He wasn’t dim. He knew what the woman was attempting, but fury and fear fist-fought at the idea of Ellie facing the monster alone, without him.

  In minutes, the rusted metal had shuddered then splintered under the barrage until he’d managed to squeeze his way through.

  He’d splashed through the tunnels and followed the direction they’d launched themselves down. Bernard strained to hear any sound beyond his own footsteps. All he could see was Ellie lying there on the ground like the numerous victims before her.

  He couldn’t let her succumb to that grisly fate.

  A clang, clang, screeeech sounded farther down the corridor, coming from the left. Bernard pushed himself harder, running faster through the oil-slick water coating the floor of the sewers.

  Another tunnel bisected this one. He fought to hear the source of the sound. Ellie must’ve baited him into the fight. Bernard had seen the finality in her eyes before she’d ever descended the steps down here.

  Bernard whipped around the corner.

  The moment he caught sight of the woman he’d been searching for, her name flew from his lips before he could help himself.

  She whirled around to face him, shoulders heaving in exertion and those dark eyes wide in frenzy.

  The Butcher had sunk to his knees in the water behind her, a pallid face, slimy strands of blackened hair and filmy eyes as if he’d lived down here for far too long. He was long-limbed and lanky, a skeletal thing. Blood gushed from several wounds in his torso, barely visible from the dim light of the globe resting on the ground feet away from them.

  This was the monster who’d been eluding him for far too long. The one who’d tormented all those women before ending their lives.

  The Butcher crouched forward, and his dagger glinted in his hand. He lunged, scrambling forward to close the distance. With her back turned, Ellie didn’t stand a chance at swinging around in time.

  Bernard didn’t hesitate. His feet carried him forward before his mind made the call.

  The Butcher swung down, his blade slicing into Ellie’s leg.

  Bernard closed the distance. Ellie’s sharp cry split the air, the sound driving a stake straight through his heart. He didn’t bother with the pistol at his side, not at this proximity. He didn’t need a bullet to take down this monster.

  Bernard crashed down beside the Butcher of Broad Street and his fist careened into the man’s jaw. The monster spluttered as he let go of the grip on his dagger. Ellie stumbled forward, her sharp breaths like shrapnel in the air between them.

  The Butcher tried to offer a feeble swing, but blood pooled around his lips, more gushing from his stomach at a drastic rate. He planned to do more than cop a mouse on this bastard—he planned on beating the daylights out of him. Bernard’s knee thudded into the man’s solar plexus. The force of the blow sent the Butcher careening back until he landed on his rear. His breath came out choppily as that sickly gaze landed on him.

  “Looks like you found me, detective.”

  His voice scraped like bones dragged against brick, and bile rose in Bernard’s throat. The man knew he’d been hunting for him. The Butcher let out one spluttering laugh, liquid pooling in the back of his throat with a gurgle. Then his arms slid out from his sides and his back thudded against the ground.

  The Butcher of Broad Street froze there, mouth ajar and eyes staring at nothing. The blood from his wounds trickled out to meet the murky water surrounding him, and those limbs gave one final twitch before they went lax.

  Bernard stepped a pace or two back, keeping the Butcher in his peripheral. “Are you okay?” he asked Ellie, his gaze returning to the bricky woman who’d become more important to him than anyone else.

  Ellie shot him a grin to mask her grimace as she crouched to keep her palm pressed firmly on her calf. “Don’t know if you have some spare bandages, but I could use a bind.”

  Bernard nodded, reaching in for his handkerchief in his front pocket. He pulled it out and sank to his knees in the murky liquid coating the tunnel floor. A sharp breath came from Ellie as he pulled her hand away. The Butcher had sliced deep into her calf. He’d need to get her to the surface so they could stitch the wound up. He wrapped the bandage around her calf and tied it off tight. He was no stranger to makeshift tourniquets.

  Bernard rose and offered a hand up. When she slipped her slender palm in his, a knot inside his chest came undone. She didn’t make any motion to move away, and he didn’t let go. Ellie’s dark gaze met his.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “He wouldn’t emerge until I was alone.”

  “We were a partnership, Eleanor,” Bernard murmured, the frustration overtaken by the sheer relief that the Butcher and not this beautiful woman lay dead on the ground.

  Ellie’s lips pressed tight together. “I know. I’m sorry.” The gravity in her voice conveyed the depth of everything he also felt emerging between them. She glanced at the Butcher’s body. “Don’t suppose we could haul him up as proof I’m not the murderess they claim I am?”

  Bernard shook his head. “We can worry about that later. The important thing is to get your wound taken care of so it doesn’t fester. Let’s head back to the surface.”

  They navigated the tunnels with ease, and Ellie leaned hard against him, her breathing coming out a little sharper the longer they walked. Bernard’s mind whirled with each forward step.

  The Butcher of Broad Street was no more.

  He’d spent so long chasing this monster, but all that remained in the aftermath was the hollow throb of all the women he’d failed to save. He clutched Ellie a little tighter. At least he hadn’t claimed his final target.

  The entrance loomed in front of them, and Ellie hesitated.

  “I need a moment,” she murmured.

  Bernard slipped a finger beneath her chin, tilting her gaze up. Tears glossed her eyes, and she blinked them away with a fierce swipe of her fingers to follow.

  “He murdered her, Bernard,” Ellie whispered. “And once I go up those steps, I’m to face a future without the woman who’s been my foundation for my entire life.”

  Bernard’s mouth dried with every false assurance he might offer. None of them mattered. Instead, he drew Ellie against his chest and held her tight. She gripped his shirt tight, and wetness imprinted on the fabric.

  A creak sounded from the steps, drawing them apart as they both turned toward the intrusion.

  The glow of Silas’ light bobbed in front of them as the redheaded gent emerged f
rom the steps. “It’s about time the two of you showed. Theo’s been having a fit, and your mother’s not in much better of a state, with her youngest attempting to throw her life away.”

  Bernard glanced to Ellie, seizing upon Silas’ words. Her eyes widened, and she brushed away the residual tears gleaming in her eyes. Ellie shook her head, as if she barely dared to believe.

  “She’s alive?”

  Silas nodded. “We found her tied to a chair in one truly disturbing lair. I won’t share the details of what we uncovered there, though I will show you the location, detective. It’ll clear Ellie’s name in an instant.”

  Ellie glanced to the door and back toward Bernard, a clear battle waging in her eyes.

  His gut tightened. He didn’t need her to voice the words to understand this would be where they parted ways. A small part of him held on to hope that Ellie might change her mind and give up thieving, but based on the seriousness in her coffee eyes, that wouldn’t happen.

  “Silas, can you give us a moment?” Bernard asked, glancing to the other man.

  He nodded and started toward the step. “I’ll let them know you both made it out alive.”

  Bernard rested his hand on Ellie’s hip. She circled her arm around his neck, pressing flush against his body in a way that made his senses reel, even down here, surrounded by the damp chill of the sewers.

  Ellie opened her mouth as if to explain. The hangman’s orb cast meager beams in her other hand, highlighting the somber expression in her eyes.

  “I know,” he murmured. “As much as I’d love for you to give up the life of crime and spend the rest of your days with me, I know.”

  Tears glossed her eyes again, and she sucked in a sharp breath. “That sounds suspiciously like a proposal, Bernard. In another life, perhaps, I would’ve been thrilled to while away my days with you. But I can’t abandon my family.”

  “I’m not asking you to,” Bernard whispered back, even though something vital inside him cracked. The pain he’d been numbing himself from for years came rushing to the surface in an intense, sweeping torrent. If he could look the other way—but he couldn’t. If she could give up thieving for something that wouldn’t conflict—but she couldn’t.

  “I’ll cherish every moment we spent together,” she murmured. Ellie stretched to her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his, a thief every time.

  A rumble came from the back of his throat as he gripped her tight, sinking into the kiss. Euphoria rolled through him in a honeyed sweep, mixing with the relief and the crash of adrenaline after what they’d survived. Ellie curved against his body, all softness and strength. What he wouldn’t give to have this woman in his arms, his bed and his home for the rest of his life.

  He threw every ounce of himself into their kiss, his hands on her nape, on her hip, gripping her tighter than before because he didn’t want to let go. This thing between them could only ever exist in the shadows. His lips tingled from the force of the way they kissed, how she trembled in his arms as if she held back tears.

  At last, Ellie pulled away from him first. She looked into his eyes with a seriousness that gripped him by the throat. “Goodbye, Bernard.”

  With that, the woman stepped out of his arms, turned away and walked toward the exit.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A week had passed since the Butcher of Broad Street had met his demise.

  Once Bernard had brought the city’s awareness to the monster’s lair, damning evidence was found of a man called Victor Sellinger, an orphan who’d spent most of his life in the sewers. The victims weren’t the first he’d killed, but they were his most public murders. His lair had been filled with more horrors than Ellie had already been exposed to, ones Mother and Theo remained tight-lipped about.

  Ellie’s name had been cleared of the accusations and the warrant papers pulled. The moment she and Bernard had shared before she’d exited the sewers had been the last time she’d seen him. Though she knew where he lived, their worlds couldn’t align while she robbed houses and purses for a living.

  It wasn’t as though she’d been doing much thieving as of late. The wound the Butcher had inflicted on her calf needed to heal before she’d risk creeping around to burgle houses. The whole situation caused her mind to roam in a way she hadn’t allowed in a long while.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Ellie pushed herself up from the kitchen table. Mother had been sitting in the other seat trying to read her book, which fast turned into nodding off into the pages.

  Before Ellie had reached the entrance, a lock clicked and her sister appeared.

  “I’m shocked you were able to pull away from your successful business to come to the wilds of Islington,” Ellie drawled, walking with care over to the kitchen. She began to pour some water and set the kettle on the stove, flicking the flame to life.

  Theo closed the door behind her, cast a glance to where Mother sat fast asleep and joined her in the kitchen. “I wanted to stop by and check on the both of you.” Her sister strode forward and placed two envelopes on the counter. “These were left in front of the door. One’s addressed to you, while the other is for the three of us.”

  “Tea?” Ellie asked as she bustled around to gather two chipped mugs. She knew her sister too well to believe she’d dropped by at midday for no reason, so she’d wait until Theo confessed.

  “Please.” Theo sliced open the letter addressed to the family and skimmed over the contents. She let out a low whistle. “Apparently cousin Nathaniel is considering a move to the area to open up an alchemy shop.”

  Ellie lifted an eyebrow. The kettle began to whistle, and she pulled it off the stove, pouring tea into their pot and the water to follow. “Did the poor fool get run out of town? I haven’t seen him since his family visited when we were still wearing frocks.”

  “I suppose we’ll find out,” Theo said, leaning against the counter beside her. Ellie poured two cups of tea and passed one to her sister, giving her an expectant glance as well. Theo’s lip quirked. “I know the ‘just stopped by’ was flimsy.” She pulled out another thick envelope and set it on the counter.

  “Hear me out,” Theo started, and Ellie’s chest sank on reflex. “Our company is a success, and Silas and I are moving into a permanent house, one large enough to accommodate Mother. I know we’ve lived in this tenement our entire lives, but I’d sleep better knowing the two of you weren’t going to be robbed blind in the middle of the night or worse. The incident with the Butcher confirmed all those fears of just how easy it was to snatch her.”

  Ellie’s mouth tasted acidic, and her world swirled around her. The idea of coming home after a night of running through the alleys and sewers of London to a solitary apartment far smaller than this one sank in her gut like a stone.

  Every decision she’d made thus far had been for the sake of her family, for the sake of survival. The idea of choosing something for herself caused her mind to spin.

  “With not having to contribute to Mama’s housing, we can easily turn that money to affording her medicine,” Theo said, her voice gentler than Ellie ever heard it. “If you want to go honest, if you want to keep thieving, whatever you want, Ellie…you’ll have the opportunity.”

  Ellie brought the cup of tea to her lips, the fragrant liquid scalding. She took her sip anyway, letting the heat flood through her hollowed insides. What Theo offered made perfect sense—the chance to better themselves and more stable care for Mother.

  Yet it felt like her entire family had moved forward to abandon her. First Theo had left, and now she’d be taking Mother along with her.

  Ellie would be out of excuses for why she continued to muck around with the thieves rather than claiming something more for herself. Bernard’s words continued to clang around her head even now, the conviction in his eyes and the way he’d believed in something different for her other than the life she’d fallen into.

  Theo placed her half-finished cup of tea on the counter and rested her hand over Ellie’s. Her sister
’s somber eyes flickered with all the gravity she wielded like a gavel. “I know this is a lot of change at once, Ellie. I’ve always felt guilty, because my magic afforded me more opportunity than you’ve been allowed. But you’re intelligent and quick. You can do so much more than risk your life thieving every night.”

  If I wasn’t a thief and a criminal, who would I even be?

  “I’ll have some thinking to do,” Ellie murmured in response. “Kind of you to swing by and upheave my world, dear sister.”

  “Whatever else are sisters good for?” Theo responded, patting her hand before she pulled away and cast a glance at their slumbering mother. “I’ll come back to discuss this with Mama soon. Just take some time and think on it, please?”

  Ellie tipped her fingers in a salute as Theo slipped through the door to leave as suddenly as she’d arrived. Her throat squeezed tight, and her mind dizzied with how fast her world had tilted off its axis. She took another sip from the rich black tea, but the fragrant liquid failed to soothe her nerves. She’d barely been able to restrain the nightmares, let alone think about her future, and the idea of joining the others working at the factories soured in her stomach.

  Thieving hadn’t just been for Mother—it had offered a freedom few roles she could claim did.

  The other letter glared at her from the counter, and she plucked it up if only to seize the distraction. She ripped it open to no letter inside, but instead a thick tarot card.

  The Ace of Pentacles, long known to symbolize fresh opportunity.

  Ellie flipped the card to its back, her brow furrowed. She recognized these backings.

  A faint address had been scrawled on the left corner of the card.

  Her mind reeled a little faster. New opportunities, indeed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Despite the commendations of his peers for the successful disposal of the Butcher of Broad Street, Bernard’s nights grew lonelier than ever. Before, he’d numbed himself off from external relationships, but Ellie had sparked bright feelings in him anew. However, now that she’d unleashed those to the world, they refused to be stuffed back into their boxes.