The Experimental Murders (Elysium #2)

Chapter Two

As Trinket placed a tray of tea and crumpets on the low table in front of the settee, she watched Booker pace the parlour from the corner of her eye. He had not stopped his restless pacing since they returned home from the city center empty-handed. It seemed that no one in Tinkerfall knew of anyone missing, nor did any of the other onlookers recognize the dead woman. This lack of information both frustrated and excited Booker, and now he could not sit still.

"Booker, you're going to wear holes in your shoes," Trinket said.

"Tinkerfall is not that large of a city," he said. "For someone to have died—and to have been mutilated in such a manner—and have no one know her. It's unheard of."

"I'm certain street urchins and night flowers die all the time without anyone noticing."

"The gentry and police may not notice, but their own do. And I am in the know with such people."

"I'm sure it's possible for a single person to slip through the cracks. Perhaps she was new to the city."

Booker stopped at the mantel and stared into the fire. "Perhaps."

Sighing, she picked up a cup and saucer and made her way to his side. She held the tea out to him, and despite his distracted mind, he took it from her with a tight smile.

"It appears to have only just happened last night at the earliest," she said. "Give it time. I'm sure as the news spreads, more people will have something to say about the matter."

He sipped at his tea and grumbled, "I suppose."

"In the meantime, with a new mystery for you to explore, would it be all right to dispose of the severed head posted at the front door?"

Grinning, he raised his eyebrows teasingly. "Does it unnerve you that much?"

"Mr. Larkin, I see plenty of bizarre things thanks to my broken mind. It would be nice if my reality could be free of such monsters."

"You're my assistant, Trinket, so I'm afraid that will be an impossibility. But yes, bring the head down to the laboratory and I'll store it."

"Store it?"

He placed the cup and saucer on the mantel and made his way into the hallway. "Yes. Store it. I'll be waiting."

Trinket waited for him to disappear behind the laboratory door before she ventured onto the front steps. The Wolf's head was turned away from her as it watched over the slums. Considering it for a moment, she realized it didn't really seem all that out of place. Booker's home, although beautiful inside, looked just as grimy and rundown as the rest of the slums on the outside. And, knowing the bizarre surgeries that were performed down in his laboratory, this wolf with metal teeth was not so out of the ordinary.

A glint of light hit the Wolf's mouth, causing the razor-sharp teeth to almost glow. A shiver went through her body at the memory of the beast sinking its jaws into Booker's arm.

And the memories that horrific night had dredged up.

It should be your head on a pike.

Monster.

Killer.

She gritted her teeth and forced the voices into the background. With a steadying breath, she took hold of the Wolf's head and pulled it off the pike. It was lighter than she had expected. Booker had already removed the brain and insides. Still, the feel of its thick fur against her palms was unsettling. It was dead. Lifeless. But it used to be attached to a body, one that Booker had butchered, dissected, and preserved in jars, a process in which she had assisted.