A Dark and Starless Night

Chapter Twenty-Two

Eve pulled the stinking pint closer to her, sipping on it despite the strong taste. The Lock and Key was blessedly quiet; she didn't want anyone to gossip, even if she'd chosen the tavern, knowing well no one she knew would show their face here.

Although, she realised, looking over her shoulder, Don had been here. And whoever had helped him get there was likely a member of high society. She took another sip, trying not to wrinkle her nose. The barman had assured her it was their finest ale, but it tasted how she imagined piss did if the smell was any indication. She smiled as she made eye contact with the barman, and he paused what he was doing for a heartbeat before returning to the task with more vigour.

She sighed, pulling out a notebook and pencil while her leg bounced. She needed a plan of action. She quickly wrote down everything she knew about Eli Hudderson's murder, including what she had seen the day he had been discovered. She tried not to think about it for too long, being as clinical as she could be. She wasn't sure apart from the talisman and their heritage how the victims were related, so that wasn't something she could pursue any further. But Don – she could find him an alibi for the nights of the murders.

She would start with the most recent one. If she could confirm where he had been the night of Eli had been murdered, he would have to be released. She would have to be careful. If she went about this the wrong way, she would make things worse. Convincing anyone who could confirm where he'd been to speak against Ned would be difficult, and she wouldn't be able to encourage them with anything but words.

She began jotting down any and all places he liked to visit, but then readjusted her plan. She would work backwards from the Lock and Key, and have to hope that Don had been his usual chatty self when he was drunk and had let slip where he had been before. Because she knew he wouldn't budge and tell her where he had been himself. It infuriated her that he seemingly accepted his fate. He was innocent. Even if he looked her in the eye and told her that he had murdered Eli, she wouldn't believe him. Not to mention the fact that he had no connection to the courtesans.

She moved on to noting the dates that the courtesans had been murdered. She was utterly grateful that her uncle was a creature of habit and that there were only a handful of places he was likely to visit on those days. People's memories however would be an entirely different matter. Whether they remembered if he had been there or not would be touch and go, but she had to be hopeful. If they weren't confident enough in their memory, she would have to find alternative people, because Ned would tear anyone with hesitancy apart on the stand.

She blew out a sharp breath and shook her head to clear her mind of her doubts. She had a plan now. And nothing was going to stop her from executing it. She finished her pint quickly, doing her best to ignore the bitter taste.

As she stepped out into the cool evening or rather night, she was startled by how dark it was. She shook her head at her own stupidity and started towards home. She slipped her bag on her shoulder and started towards home. The streets were quiet, and she wondered at the reason for the lack of people. She couldn't quite figure it out, but there was a chance there was a cheap show on in the theatre. Or maybe a late-night event at the racetracks. Whatever the reason, she was glad she'd had a pint or she would have felt a lot more on edge as she moved through the empty streets.

She wasn't far from home when she felt the pinprick of a gaze on the nape of her neck. Her stomach dropped, and she pulled her bag further up her shoulder, picking up her pace. She could hear an almost imperceptible echo to her footsteps. She swallowed, trying to stay calm. Maybe they were just going her way. There was no need to be nervous. She rubbed her clammy hands on her trouser legs, feeling off kilter as her heart thundered.

There was only one way she could know for sure if they were following her and that was to take a different route, change direction suddenly. She nodded to herself, exhaling sharply, and steeled herself. She quickly moved down a side alley that she knew would come out near a tavern in the Golden Quarter. She hurried without running, holding the strap of her bag tightly. The echo of footsteps behind her made her lip quiver. She was almost to the mouth of the side alley, and, once she cleared it, she was going to head straight into the tavern and stay there all damn night. She didn't care if she had to pay the owners to keep it open, she would not be taking a step outside until daylight.

A person stepped into the alley ahead and Eve halted. Their frame was slight – a woman! She almost fell in her relief, but relief was replaced with confusion when something glinted in the woman's hand. Eve took a step backwards, and whirled when a hand clamped around her arm. She jerked her body to try get out of a firm grip – she couldn't see their face, but she was almost certain it was a man.

He grabbed both her arms and jerked her against his body, her back to his chest. He didn't speak, but something about his presence at her back made her skin crawl. She wanted – needed – to get away from him. She bucked and thrashed, a scream building in her chest, but when she opened her mouth, no scream came. A whisper of a sound spilled out, but it was unlikely anyone had heard. The woman came closer, her strides casual. The glinting object was like a shard of pointed glass lashed to a handle.

Eve's chest started to heave, and her stomach flipped. Her heart was fluttering and skipping beats, making her feel like it was going to burst out of her. She was going to die. She was going to be the fourth murder victim. At least, she realised, Don would go free if she died the same way as the others. She gasped in breaths, a laugh bubbling out of her. The woman raised the weapon towards Eve but, before it could make contact with her, the pressure that had been building inside of her – the pressure that had been building inside her all damn day – burst out of her. Golden light speared out of her, so bright she had to close her eyes.

It felt like nothing she had ever known. Like the warmth from the sun on a cool and breezy day, but gentler and... fulfilling. It poured out of her, like an overflow of light. She didn't know where it was coming from, but it wouldn't stop. She didn't want it to stop. It felt familiar and foreign all at once. It felt powerful.

The man holding her let out a bellowing roar of pain, shoving her away from him. The woman hissed in pain, ducking out of the way as Eve staggered forward. Eve opened her eyes, the light suddenly gone. She couldn't see for a moment, but she didn't care. She ran. She didn't stop until she was home, wrenching the door open and slamming it closed. She locked it and shoved a table in front of it. She made it all of two steps away from the doorway when tiredness slammed into her and the floor rushed up to meet her.

As she lay there on the cool tiles, her eyelids heavy, her body numb, she made an oath never to drink a pint of ale again.