Anonymous

Chapter One

You had slunk back into the house just as guiltily as you had slunk out of it, damp mist and soot clinging to your hair and clothes, blood staining your hands. You tried to work your way through the house to the washroom undetected, to clean away the evidence from your nightly hunt. Another name, another target, another person to beat into submission.

But she had been waiting up for you, pacing about the base of the stairs just in front of the door. She must have noticed your absence sometime during the night, arms folded over her chest and her lips twisted into a frown. She shot you a sharp glare, ready to berate you with her long practiced speech.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I already know what you're going to say. Save it for the morning, Elizabeth."

"Why should I?" Her voice was sweet, a small bird trying to shout like an eagle. Even her frame was small and bony, her lack of food so evident in her figure. She probably gave her half-eaten bowl to one of the urchins. "You'll be gone by morning, anyhow!"

You whispered harshly, "Keep your voice down, Beth. You'll wake the kids."

She huffed and threw her hands into the air. But she gave up on being angry when you passed by the small lantern on the table. She took down a sharp gasp, curling her small hands into fists. "What are you going to tell the children when they see that?"

You ducked your head away. You knew she was talking about the swelling bruise, the searing heat that burned across the side of your face. You stepped past her into the washroom and began the tedious task of cleaning away the blood. "Nothing. They don't need to know."

Elizabeth had followed close behind like a bickering and overprotective mother. "Let me at least take a look at it. I'll see if it needs some cleaning."

"Beth." You raised a hand at her, pausing what protests were about to rise.

"You can't keep doing this. I can't keep doing this."

"You know that my work is the only thing keeping this house safe. If I stopped working for the Blighters... those kids upstairs would be dead. You would be dead." You dipped your hands into the cold water, bittersweet against your burning hands.

Elizabeth stepped back and dropped her head into her hand. "I know that. You're like my sister. I can't stand the idea that you might not come home one night." She stood up taller, marching the short distance to your side. "What will we do then? What if you die out there?"

You flicked the water off of your hands and ran the rest through your hair, raking out the tangles and smoothing the wilder strands. "I won't."

"Katie is still missing," she muttered.

"I promised you I'd find her. And I will." You pressed her hands flat into the table, glowering down at the darkened water.

"That was months ago." She wrapped her arms around herself, swaying between one foot and the next. "For all we know she's dead."

"She's not." You faced her, desperate to calm her back down. "Listen to me, Beth. I have kept this place safe, have I not? Just as I promised I would. No one has stepped foot in here since I've moved in. And no one will. And Katie will come home soon. London is a large city--"

"It is large," she retorted. "How are you to find one person?"

You stepped towards her, staring her down. "I'm good at what I do."

"And someone's bound to be better." Beth snatched up a rag and wetted it. "There's talk... The kids haven't stopped talking about it." She reached up and pressed a damp corner against the blackening bruise around your eye and cheekbone.