Page 1 of Secrets in the Dark
Prologue
The king was dead.
Or, rather, at this time in history, incarcerated.
Of course, the “king” believed that he would “rise” again—after all, a vampire was immortal.
But the Vampire King had taught Ripper well. Just as the world was filled with different countries, presidents, kings, queens and prime ministers—and, of course, great dictators—the world should equally be filled with kings of the underworld.
And with learning, a man could rise to greatness, become king of his own domain.
Ripper smiled to himself, watching the world go by around him. He wasn’t lurking in the shadows. He was sitting amongst the neon lights of the busy bars in Brixton, watching.
Just watching.
He’d learned from his master to watch, and to listen. And there was a lot to watch. Of course, the area was popular amongst all age groups, but it attracted the young and the beautiful.
He’d learned as well to mimic a variety of accents. If someone was fascinated by Scots, he could roll hisR’s like no one else. Irish was an easy one to slip into. Welsh a bit harder, and then, of course, there was proper British and such twists as those made famous by rock bands, like a Liverpool bit.
He was anything anyone wanted him to be. He could even imitate Americans—from a hard-toned New Yorker to a fellow with a Southern drawl or even a man with a Western twang.
All in a day’s work.
Well, of course, there was work, too. Which meant he could only watch so late on certain nights. But tonight...
Ah, but tonight was his. And he learned from experience—from watching the master at work as well.
He’d learned how to play the game, how to maneuver, what to do and what not to do.
In short, his reign was just beginning.
And that all-important lesson he’d learned?
Not to get caught! After all, he would be king in his own right. And the man history knew as “Jack the Ripper” had never been caught—though every few years, there was a new theory, a new belief that forensic measures might not have given the world the truth.
But that would never happen. And like that Jack, this Ripper would never let himself be caught.
No, he would never let an obsession rule him. Emotion would never come into the picture. He had learned all the tricks of the trade, including the one he’d learned all on his own. Never let anything but cold, cool calculation rule his actions, never...
Never, never! But then, he’d known deep in his heart from the beginning that he was his own man, with his own plan and agenda. He’d made a start before he’d met the vampire. But back then...
Well, he had feared the slightest rustle of sound. He hadn’t had the confidence he had now, hadn’t mastered his craft, so to say. Now...
He had been a good student. The best student. And he was smart enough to utilize all that he had learned, including the fact that he must not make mistakes, that mistakes and obsession could lead to behavior that wasn’t the most calculated and smart.
And now...he had such a dream, such an agenda!
Maybe he’d always coveted the idea of being king.
King of the Rippers!
Three stunning young women were walking by his table. Laughing, chatting about coming to Europe to find a prince.
He pretended to look at his watch, as if he were waiting for someone. And as they came nearer, he started to rise, almost knocking into one of them.
“Oh, I’m ever so bloody sorry!” he said.
“No, no, it’s all right!” the closest girl in the trio said, smiling. She was an attractive blonde, perfectly configured with wickedly long legs, generous breasts and, best of all, a trusting smile.
