The Bride of Devil's Acre by Jennifer Kohout Read Free Book Online

sign, Finn silent beside him. Day was giving way to night, and the merchants and shopkeepers were closing their doors as Devil’s Acre was turned over to those who dined in the darkness and ruled the night.  
    Devil had spent the day in the shadow of the Palace of Westminster, watching the House of Lords and tallying votes. Taken in alphabetical order, Lord Edwards was one of the first to cast his vote. After a moment of hesitation, his lordship’s “nay” was heard loud and clear. If there were a few raised eyebrows in the room, Devil didn’t care. He was too busy checking the rest of the votes and making sure he got what he’d paid for.  
    There was no time to celebrate, and their work was far from finished. Devil knew better than to think the Queen would let a single vote stop her from getting what she wanted, but the failure of the bill’s passage would buy Devil some time.
    Back in Devil’s Acre, it was time to check on Lord Edwards’ daughter and prepare her to go home. Devil trotted down the stairs. Turning the corner, he felt Finn stiffen beside him.
    “Blood,” Devil said. There was no mistaking that smell. Anyone living in Devil’s Acre was familiar with the scent of death.
    Finn cursed.
    Devil ran.

    Devil knew he would never forget the macabre scene playing out before him. Lord Edwards’ daughter lay sprawled on her back, Carver kneeling over her. Her arms were tied to a support pole used to hold up the ceiling, and blood trickled from her wrists.
    But that wasn’t the only blood in the room. The girl’s thighs were smeared bright red with virgin blood, and thick rivulets of the sanguine liquid dripped down her exposed sides to congeal on the ground.  
    Muffled sobs grew louder as Devil crossed the room. Without breaking stride, he reached into his boot and pulled out his knife. Fisting his hand in Carver’s hair, he yanked the man’s head back.  
    “We’re not in the business of raping women,” Devil growled, exposing Carver’s neck and drawing the blade across the man’s throat.
    Carver grabbed his throat. Too late. He realized he was no longer alone with the girl. He opened his mouth as hot, thick liquid seeped through his fingers, dripping onto his chest and quickly saturating his shirt.  
    NO!! Carver’s mouth gaped open and closed, his lips forming the words his throat could no longer utter as he slowly collapsed sideways, his body crumbling to the floor.
    Jacqueline jerked as hot, thick liquid spattered across her breasts, scalding her skin and plastering the hood to her face. Something heavy hit the ground beside her, accompanied by a rattling sigh that stirred the loose fabric of her hood.  
    It took a moment for her to realize that the crushing weight of her attacker was gone. A whimper of pain escaped as she tried for her feet. But the ground was slick and her legs trembled. Stumbling to her knees, she scurried forward blindly. Her hand sank into flaccid flesh, warm and wet with blood.  
    Her blood?
    Jacqueline shrieked, scrambling backward as far as the rope would allow.
    “Help her,” Devil said to Finn.  
    Someone grabbed her from behind. Jacqueline screamed, her body flailing as she pitched herself forward and out of the arms struggling to hold her.
    “Easy,” Finn said. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
    Jacqueline sobbed. She recognized the Irish accent from earlier, the soft lilt calming her panicked flight.  
    “Hand me that blanket,” Finn said, taking the blanket from Devil and settling it about the girl’s shoulders.  
    Jacqueline jerked, her body colliding with the wall.
    “Shhhh,” Finn murmured. “It’s over; you’re safe now.”  
    Finn focused all of his attention on the girl, speaking to her softly in Gaelic. He recited the words to a lullaby his mum used to sing to him, or what he could remember of it, until her sobs grew quiet.  
    “I’m going to cut the rope,” Finn told her. “But I need you to leave the hood on. We have a mess