The Lost: Book Two of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 16

London sped by in a furious blur. High-rise apartment blocks merged with single-storey shops. Double-decker buses blended with black Hackney cabs and motorbikes. Dirty grey slush surged like a flood in the gutters, engulfing the kerb and concealing the border between pavement and road. Faces, one after one, melted together like candle wax, distorting features, turning each and every person into a twisted tapestry of city life.

Whispers filtered through the haze but I could barely hear them over the pounding bass of my head rush.

Kale was dead!

The words just kept repeating themselves over and over again, the noise scratching painfully like a needle slipping on a vinyl record. Scratch, repeat, scratch, repeat.

"Paige, get Lucius and wait for Megan. Head to Silvertown."

I blinked, hearing my name.

"Fucking hell Paige, yes I said Silvertown. But you wait for Megan, okay? We're dropping her off in twenty minutes, don't you dare bloody leave without her." He hit the end-call button and cursed some more, slamming his fist against the door.

"Why am I not coming with you?" I said. Harper, who was driving, glanced at me in the rear-view mirror and I quickly averted my gaze, leaning forward to speak to Garrick who sat in the front passenger seat.

"It's too dangerous Megan. I can't risk you getting attacked," Garrick said, twisting to look back at me. "Blaine said that Old Street is crawling with Varúlfur. They could be hoping we turn up en-masse, draw us all into the open so they can get to you. Paige and Sergio will wait for you at the asylum. Any problems, and I mean any at all, and you head for the old Millennium Mills in Silvertown. Don't wait for us, okay? We'll meet you there as soon as we can."

He was angry; so furious that little spots of scarlet pock-marked the hollows of his cheeks yet his eyes were laced with panic. He hadn't expected this to happen. He hadn't expected that he was sending his friends into an ambush. He hadn't expected he was sending Kale to his death. I felt a stain of guilt spreading through me, knowing that he was with me, helping me, when he should have been with them. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I was cut off by the shrill ring tone of his phone again.

"Edward?" Silence. A long pause that hung in the air and I knew. I just knew it was something bad. "What?" he whispered. "Fuck." He clutched at his hair and I thought he might pull it clean from the roots. "Okay.....yeah.....call me when you get there."

He hit end again and lobbed the phone onto the dashboard with an enraged snarl.

"There's been another attack," he grimaced. "Over by Beckton Gasworks. Two dead. One injured. Edward is taking his cell over there."

Harper's head whipped around to glance briefly at him. "I told you it had all been too civilised, didn't I? This was bound to happen." His grip tightened on the wheel as he looked back at the road ahead. "Meetings, negotiations. It's not how they do things, Garrick. I told you."

"Yes. Thank you very fucking much, Harper, that's so helpful of you to remind me," Garrick hissed.

"Well what the Hell did you expect?" Harper snapped back, a cold laugh escaping his lips. "We fucking goaded them. Challenged them. Did you expect to throw down the gauntlet and have them just walk away?"

"Of course I didn't, I always knew there would be casualties. It doesn't mean I have to like it."

"You might not like it, but you're going to have to accept it. Something tells me that there will be more casualties before this night is done."