I pushed past the gentlemen and careened into Seth's arms.

"It's not a pleasant sight," he said in my ear.

I clutched him as my eyes adjusted to the dimness. The first shape I made out was Lincoln's familiar one, standing a few feet ahead. "Why?" he snapped at the figure obscured from my view.

No answer. I let Seth go and joined Lincoln. Behind me, the gentlemen spoke in shocked whispers to one another.

"You saw that," came Swinburn's voice, spoken loudly to carry back to them. He stood just beyond Lincoln, a gun in his hand. It pointed aimlessly at the ground. The furred body of a large wolf-like creature lay at his feet.

"Gawler?" I whispered.

"Is it him?" Seth demanded of Swinburn.

Swinburn looked to Lincoln then to the gentlemen, now approaching cautiously along the alley toward us. "You saw that, sir? And you too?" he asked the men. "You saw that beast attack me?"

"Y-yes," one said, voice shaking. "What is it?"

"A dog," Lincoln said.

"Bloody big dog," said one of the gentlemen. "Pardon my language, miss."

"Swinburn?" Seth said again. "Who is it?"

Swinburn turned back to the body on the ground. He nudged it with his toe then let out a long breath. "I couldn't begin to guess what it is," he said with an emphasis on "what." "I'll leave identification to the experts. All I can say is, thank God I was armed. Thank God I came across it before it attacked someone else."

"A woman and a baby walked past," said one of the gentlemen, glancing over his shoulder. "If it had got to them first…"

Swinburn went to move off but Lincoln grasped his shoulder. "I'm going to send for the police," Swinburn told him. "Everyone must remain here to give witness accounts, of course. Did you see anything Fitzroy?"

Lincoln merely glared at him.

Swinburn shook Lincoln off and strode out of the alley.

Movement in the shadows caught my eye. Something smoky floated in the breeze. But there was no breeze in the narrow alley. The wispy tendrils coalesced into a human shape, that of a naked man. Gawler. My heart sank. He ignored me and followed Swinburn, but only as far as the alley entrance.

"Gawler," I whispered to Lincoln and nodded in the spirit's direction.

The two gentlemen circled the dead animal, inspecting it from all angles. One crouched near its hind legs, but neither went too close to the head.

"Did it attack first?" Lincoln asked them.

One gentleman shrugged. "Sir Ignatius wouldn't have shot it if it hadn't," the other said.

"You know him?" Seth asked.

"We're his neighbors."

"What do you think of him?"

"A fine fellow, keeps to himself."

"He's always friendly," the other man said. "Lucky he was armed."

"Yes," Seth said drily. "How fortunate."

"Not for…" I swallowed down the name. "Not for that dog."

"Ugly beast," one of the gentlemen said. "Look at the size of its paws. That's no ordinary dog, miss."

"Do you think that's what killed those people in the slum?" the other man asked.

"Must be. Unlikely there are two of these things walking around the city. Someone would have noticed." He poked it in the back with his walking stick. "To think it could have killed someone here, in Kensington."

"If not for Sir Ignatius."

I walked out of the alley, unable to listen to any more, and stood near the hovering spirit of Gawler. I dared not speak to him, lest the witnesses overhear. Gawler took no notice of me. He simply drifted silently back and forth across the alley entrance, his gaze on Swinburn's house.

I wanted to ask him if he'd attacked first, if he'd been intent on killing Swinburn in retaliation for speaking to Salter and the police. But a more burning question bothered me. Had Swinburn lain in wait? If so, who'd warned him that Gawler was on his way?

Harriet?

I felt sick. I leaned a hand against the cool stone of the wall near the alley entrance and concentrated on my breathing.

"Are you all right, Charlie?" Seth asked.

I nodded. "A little shocked."

Voices and movement came from Swinburn's house. A footmen hurried down the street while another knocked on Lord Ballantine's door. Soon, Swinburn returned, bringing Ballantine with him. Ballantine's nostrils flared upon seeing me, but he otherwise ignored me and strode into the alley.

"If you could wait on the street," Lincoln said to the gentlemen. Seth ushered the witnesses out of earshot and Lincoln faced Swinburn. "Who was it?" he asked, even though he already knew.

"Gawler," Swinburn said. "He'd accused me of being a traitor to our kind then he attacked me."

"How did you know he would be here?"

"Sir Ignatius doesn't have to answer your impertinent questions," Ballantine bit off.

Swinburn looked down at Gawler's werewolf body, while Gawler's spirit looked down on him. It shimmered. "You think I planned this?" Swinburn said quietly. "You think me that callous? He came to my house and challenged me. We entered this alley to talk without being disturbed but he didn't talk. He changed shape. I did not. I'd brought a weapon and when he attacked, I used it to defend myself."

"Liar!" The spirit swooped around Swinburn, circling so fast his head almost caught up to his feet. "What innocent man carries a gun with him around his house?" He did not refute the claim that he attacked first.

"He was unarmed," I said in Gawler's defense.

"Not in wolf form." Ballantine kicked the animal's paws. The claws had retracted in death, but the paws themselves were larger than a man's hand. I'd seen the deep wounds werewolf claws inflicted—as deep as a dagger.

"Will you tell the police who it is?" Lincoln asked.

"Of course," Swinburn said. "They already suspected him, thanks to the article in The Star."

"Which you orchestrated," Seth said.

Gawler's spirit swirled violently around Swinburn then whooshed upward before plunging again. A ghostly finger pointed at Swinburn's face. "You bloody done it! You bloody told 'em I killed those men when it was you!"

"Not me," Swinburn answered Seth. "I haven't spoken to any reporters."

"Ballantine then," Seth said. "Or someone else from your pack, either acting alone or under instruction."

"How dare you!" Ballantine pulled himself up to his full height. He was a large man with grizzly whiskers but for some reason, I didn't feel intimidated. He was all bluster and pomp with no substance. It was no wonder he'd lost the pack leadership.

Swinburn, however, was a different matter. There was a coldness to him, a calculated cunning that made him unpredictable. He played games with people's lives and reputations and gave his opponents no choice but to play along with him.

"I cannot control what others do," Swinburn said. "But I can assure you that I did not authorize anyone to speak to reporters from The Star or any other newspaper. That is not my way. But what's done is done. The secret of our kind is out and we must navigate these new, public, waters as best we can." He looked down at Gawler's body and shook his head. "Fool. It shouldn't have come to this. He shouldn't have attacked me."

Gawler's spirit screamed. He whirled around the alley, dashing from one end to the other, up to the roofline and down again, swooping on Swinburn and Ballantine. They didn't notice and Gawler's frustration mounted. I wanted to urge him to calm down, but I didn't want Swinburn to know he was here. The otherworldly screaming filled my head and hurt my ears. It felt as if the ghost himself were inside my brain.

Lincoln must have sensed my discomfort, even though I felt sure I didn't display any signs. He touched my chin and studied my face, a question in his eyes.

"She looks pale," Seth said. "Charlie? Do you need to sit down?"

Ballantine snorted. "She should be used to death."

The screaming suddenly stopped, leaving a profound silence. I glanced around but could no longer see Gawler's spirit. Perhaps he'd gone, too frustrated to listen to Swinburn any longer. I hoped his afterlife proved to be a better existence for him than this life.

I met Lincoln's gaze and offered a small smile. "I'm all right," I said.

He turned back to Swinburn. "You defeated Gawler. His pack will be yours now."

Therein lay the real reason for the murder. I had no doubts.

"No," Swinburn said. "To take over a pack that I don't belong to, I must defeat the leader when we are both in our other forms. I didn't change. In this situation the pack will elect a new leader in whatever way they see fit. I suspect it will be handed to Lady Gillingham."

"Harriet?" I blurted out. "Why? She's not as strong as others in her pack, surely."

"Particularly in her delicate state," Seth added. "She can't run with them at the moment, let alone fight."

"She is the only natural leader within that pack," Swinburn said.

"The rest are a bloody useless lot," Ballantine added. "Sir Ignatius is right. She'll get the leadership by default. No others will want it, and being a countess makes her the perfect choice."

Swinburn narrowed his gaze ever so slightly at his friend. Ballantine swallowed and looked away. It would seem no matter how far Swinburn rose, or how strong a leader he made, Ballantine would always consider him his inferior.

The arrival of Detective Inspector Fullbright with his constables saw us all ousted from the scene. We gathered on the street where another constable questioned the two gentlemen witnesses. The sun rose high in the sky overhead, brightening the row of white houses so that I had to squint until my eyes adjusted. It promised to be a hot, sticky day in the city.

Several minutes later, constables carried the body on a stretcher and slid it into a waiting cart. It drove away and Fullbright joined us. He spoke with the gentlemen then dismissed them.

A two-wheeled hansom sped up the street and stopped alongside Gus and our carriage, blocking the road. Mr. Yallop, the MP, alighted and strode toward us, patting a handkerchief across his shiny forehead.

"We had a meeting," Mr. Yallop snapped at Detective Inspector Fullbright.

"I was called here unexpectedly," Inspector Fullbright said without glancing up from the constable's notebook he now held in his hand.

"Why wasn't I told about…this?" Mr. Yallop signaled toward the alley. "Your superior informed me when I went looking for you."

"There wasn't time."

"I want a full report."

"And you'll get one."

Mr. Yallop's jaw hardened.

"It was self-defense," Lord Ballantine said. "Sir Ignatius was attacked."

"Sir Ignatius?" Mr. Yallop looked at Swinburn for the first time. He nodded once and gave him a cool smile. "I didn't see you there, sir."

"What are you doing here?" Swinburn asked.

Mr. Yallop puffed out his chest. "I'm the appointed chair for the Home Office's select committee investigation into the Ministry of Curiosities." Was the explanation just for show, or did Swinburn not help Yallop get the position after all? At least they didn't try to hide their acquaintance.

Ballantine smirked at Lincoln. "Is that so? Well, well."

"And you are?" Mr. Yallop asked.

"Lord Ballantine. Sir Ignatius and I are friends."

"Tell me what happened here," Yallop demanded. "I was told the creature was shot and killed."

Inspector Fullbright gave a brisk account of the events as he knew them. No one added to it, and no one stated or implied that Ballantine and Swinburn were also werewolves.

"Good." Mr. Yallop cupped his hands behind his back. "It seems we're now rid of the blasted werewolf creature. An excellent result. Thank you, Sir Ignatius. You'll be a hero when the newspapers get wind of this."

"No names, please," Swinburn said. "I'd like to remain anonymous. My friends don't like it when one of our circle garners publicity, even good publicity."

Mr. Yallop's thick brows wriggled up his forehead. "Your friends, eh? No, I'm sure they don't." Did he already know that Swinburn associated with royalty? Or merely guessed?

"I'd like to hear your version of events, sir," Inspector Fullbright said to Swinburn. "Yours too, Mr. Fitzroy."

"He didn't witness anything," Ballantine growled. "He was too far away."

"And you were in your house," Seth shot back. "So you have nothing of worth to say."

Ballantine opened his mouth, but Inspector Fullbright spoke first. "Thank you, my lordship," he said to Ballantine. "But you won't be needed."

"It's your lordship or my lord." Ballantine gave him a tight smile then strode off in the direction of his house.

"Would you like to step over here and tell us what happened, Sir Ignatius?" Inspector Fullbright said.

"There's no need for privacy," Swinburn said. "I'll tell you what I told Mr. Fitzroy."

He proceeded to tell the detective inspector a number of lies. For one, he made no mention of being a shape-shifter. I didn't expect him to, and we would not divulge his secret, something that he must have guessed. For another, he didn't admit to knowing the victim.

"A man came to my front door and asked for me," Swinburn said. "He introduced himself as Gawler—"

"Gawler!" Mr. Yallop nodded vigorously. "We knew it was him, didn't we, Fullbright?"

"What did Mr. Gawler want with you?" Inspector Fullbright asked.

"He spouted all sorts of nonsense, claiming I'm destroying his home," Sir Ignatius said. "I'm involved in the slum clearances in an advisory capacity, you see. The Old Nichol is on the list of areas to be cleaned up. Some residents don't want to go. It seems he decided to take his complaints to me personally."

"Fools," Mr. Yallop spat. "Why do they want to remain in those pig sties? Most of the buildings are only held together by the dirt."

"Because it's their home," I said. "If you clean up the slums, where will they live? They won't be able to afford to rent the new houses."

"They can move further out of the city," Mr. Yallop said. "They ought to be dispersed anyway. Keeping them all together like that only leads to an infestation of crime. Eh, Fullbright? Places like the Old Nichol keep your lot busy."

I closed my hands into fists at my sides. This was not an argument I could win.

"To the matter at hand," Fullbright said to Swinburn. "You say Mr. Gawler came to your home and confronted you."

"Over my involvement in the slum clearances, yes."

"And how did you end up in this alley?"

"I told him to calm down as he was getting agitated," Swinburn said. "He suggested we move into the alley where no one would hear us. I agreed."

Seth grunted. "Because it's wise to go into dark alleys with angry strangers."

"I had my gun on me," Swinburn told him coolly. "I hadn't yet removed my jacket as I'd just walked in the door myself. He must have been waiting for me to return home."

"So you went with him into the alley," Fullbright prompted. "And then?"

"And then…" Swinburn shook his head and shrugged. "He did the oddest thing. He undressed and then he…changed into that creature your men carried off. It was remarkable. A truly amazing transformation. I still cannot believe it."

It was a good performance, and it certainly fooled Mr. Yallop. He hung on Swinburn's every word, his face distorting as he imagined the gruesome sight. Inspector Fullbright offered no such opinion, either in the tone of his voice or his facial expressions. He simply made notes in his book.

"Then he ran at me," Swinburn went on. "It—he—bared his teeth. They were as long and sharp as knives. And the creature was enormous, as you saw. He would have gored me without hesitation if I hadn't shot him."

"Good lord," Mr. Yallop said on a breath. "Your bravery and presence of mind are to be commended."

Swinburn smiled. "Those two gentlemen saw everything," he said. "Mr. Fitzroy and his companions did not, but no doubt they heard the gunshot."

"Do you have anything to add, sir?" Inspector Fullbright asked Lincoln.

"No," Lincoln said.

Fullbright looked to Seth then me. We both shook our heads. To Swinburn, he said, "Do you always carry a loaded gun when you go about your daily affairs?"

"These are dangerous times," Swinburn said. "I've carried a gun ever since the Ripper murders."

"It seems a little extreme."

"I'm not the sort who does things by halves."

"Quite right." Mr. Yallop nodded with enthusiasm and studied Swinburn anew. "No one becomes advisor to the royal family by treading lightly." So he was aware of Swinburn's importance to the palace.

Inspector Fullbright closed his notebook. "Thank you, sir. I'll be in touch if I have more questions."

"We will indeed," Mr. Yallop said. "Although I'm sure there'll be no need to trouble you again. You've told us everything you could. May I applaud you once again, sir. Your actions have saved this city from further chaos and fear. The public can breathe easier now that the murderous creature is dead."

I almost walked off in disgust. I was only glad the spirit of Gawler was no longer around to hear so many lies spewing from Swinburn's mouth. My ears couldn't cope with more screeching.

The detective inspector signaled to his remaining constables that it was time to leave.

"What will happen to Gawler's body?" Lincoln asked him.

"Why?" Mr. Yallop sneered. "Does the ministry want it? I can assure you, you won't be allowed anywhere near it. You are still under investigation—"

"An investigation that may prove the ministry is necessary," Seth cut in.

Mr. Yallop huffed out a humorless laugh.

"Scientists and doctors will want to study it," Inspector Fullbright told Lincoln. "They'll seek to understand these creatures in the hope that will help them develop a way to stop them in the future."

"Quite right," Swinburn said. "It's the only way." He didn't sound worried at all. Why wasn't he concerned about what they may discover about the body? Perhaps he knew they'd discover nothing of importance.

"I'm not convinced Gawler committed the Old Nichol murders," Lincoln said.

Fullbright studied him, his face blank.

"Don't be absurd," Mr. Yallop scoffed. "Of course he did it. You saw that beast!"

"There are others?" Inspector Fullbright asked Lincoln.

Lincoln's gaze locked with the detective's while Swinburn went very still. I didn't dare move, didn't dare glance at him, or anyone. I couldn't decide on the best course of action—let Fullbright know that Swinburn was a shape-changer, or keep his secret?

Somewhere in the distance a dog barked and Mr. Yallop jumped. He tried to hide his nervousness with a cough and stroking his waistcoat at his chest. "If there are, we'll catch them. Now that we know Gawler was one, we'll find the rest. All we need to do is find his associates."

We must warn Harriet. And yet it may have been her that set these events in motion, either accidentally or on purpose.

Inspector Fullbright walked off to his waiting coach. Mr. Yallop watched him leave out of the corner of his eye then stepped close to Lincoln.

"You've got a nerve suggesting it wasn't Gawler," Mr. Yallop hissed. "You ought to be locked up for defending him."

"We look at the evidence," Seth said when Lincoln offered no explanation. "And the evidence doesn't point to Gawler."

Mr. Yallop wrinkled his nose at Seth as if he smelled something foul. "Stop your bleating, Vickers. I asked my colleagues in the House of Lords about you. Laughter followed every mention of your name. If half the stories are true, I wouldn't show my face around London if I were you."

"Luckily I don't have your face. As to your colleagues in the House of Lords, I suspect some of their laughter was nervous. I know as many secrets about them as they do about me. But I'm not a tattler, Mr. Yallop, so don't bother asking me for information."

Mr. Yallop blinked owlishly, clearly unsure of what to make of Seth and his retort. He returned his attention to Lincoln. "I'm warning you, Fitzroy. If you don't hand over the ministry files, you will be arrested for hindering our investigation."

"I already told you, there is nothing to hand over," Lincoln said.

Beside him, Swinburn shifted his weight, catching Mr. Yallop's attention. "I do apologize, Sir Ignatius," Mr. Yallop said. "This discussion is irrelevant to you. Thank you for your time." He turned and strode off to his own conveyance.

"Nicely done, Fitzroy," Swinburn said as he watched Mr. Yallop drive off. "You're willing to risk arrest rather than betray those recorded in your files."

"No thanks to you," I said. "You told your cronies about us and that led to Yallop's committee being formed. You've put many lives in danger, Sir Ignatius. I hope that gives you want you want."

"Why would I do that? My name is in your files, as are those of my friends.'"

That was a good point. And yet I felt sure Swinburn was to blame for bringing the ministry to light, not only as Mr. Salter's source but also as Mr. Yallop's. I didn't believe him to be innocent.

"Your actions mean Gawler's body will be dissected," Seth said. "One of your own. Doesn't that concern you?"

"No," Swinburn said. "They'll discover nothing to help them eliminate us, if that's what you're thinking."

Lincoln held out his hand to me and I took it. He tucked it into the crook of his arm. "If you are responsible for the Old Nichol murders, Swinburn, I will turn your files over to Fullbright and Yallop. Is that understood?"

"And then what?" Swinburn asked. "He'll arrest me? Hardly."

"I agree. He won't arrest you." Lincoln smiled. "Because I will have already meted out the ministry's justice."

---

Seth sat with Gus on the driver's seat as we drove to Mayfair. Considering his foul mood, it was the best place for him. Hopefully the fresh air would blow away his temper. Lincoln spoke little and gave nothing away. As usual, he kept his thoughts to himself unless I prompted him to share.

We both agreed that Swinburn could have provided information to Salter and Yallop anonymously, yet neither of us could think why he'd jeopardize himself and his pack. If Lincoln handed over the archives, his name would be there for all to see.

"Unless he trusts me not to hand them over," Lincoln said.

"That's a lot of faith he's putting in your ability to keep them hidden."

One corner of his mouth flicked up. "You doubt me?"

"Never."

It was midday when we arrived at the Gillinghams' house. Lord Gillingham was out and Harriet invited us into her private sitting room, where she sat with a plate of boiled eggs on her lap. Dressed in a lavender and pink dressing gown with her fair hair cascading down her back, she looked young and fresh, a picture of health.

"Charlie, fetch me that cushion, please," she said. "My back aches." She sucked in a sharp breath as she leaned forward, allowing me to slot the cushion behind her.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"The baby kicks constantly. He's so vigorous." She smiled and rubbed her belly. "I don't think I have long to go."

We'd decided that I would give her the news, but now that the time had come, I wasn't sure how to deliver it. I glanced at Lincoln and Seth, standing by the door, both of them still looking frustrated over our encounters with Swinburn and Mr. Yallop. Perhaps I was the best choice for delivering news today.

I pulled a chair closer and took her hand. "Harriet, I bring sad tidings. Mr. Gawler is dead."

She dropped the egg she'd been nibbling. It missed the plate and fell to the floor. "Oh," she said heavily. "How did it happen?"

"Swinburn shot him."

She gasped. "He shot him?"

"After you met with Gawler today, he went to confront Swinburn. According to Swinburn, they went to an alley where Gawler changed into his wolf form. He attacked Swinburn who then shot him."

"Did you see it?"

"No. We heard the gunshot but were too late."

"Have you spoken to Gawler's spirit?"

I shook my head. "There is no need at the moment. We have no reason to doubt Swinburn. He admits to shooting Gawler and it's easy to believe that Gawler was angry enough to attack. According to his neighbors, he was seething when he left his home."

She nodded slowly. "I showed him the newspaper article that mentioned him by name. He became angry."

I glanced at Lincoln. He urged me with a nod. But I couldn't bring myself to accuse her of encouraging Gawler. "Swinburn thinks you will now be pack leader because they respect you," I said instead. "He told us that since he didn't kill Gawler in a fair fight, he won't be accepted as their leader."

She nodded, not at all surprised by the news. "I am the logical choice, even though I haven't been with them long. None of them want the leadership, you see. They're all rather plodding in nature."

I blew out a breath and sucked in some courage. "Harriet, I must ask this of you. Did you stoke Gawler's anger?"

She picked up another egg. "He needed no stoking."

"Did you encourage him to confront Swinburn?"

She nibbled the egg.

"Harriet?"

"I planted the seed in his head, yes."

"And then went to Swinburn's house to warn him."

She glanced at Lincoln then nodded.

I sat back. "Why? How could you betray your own leader like that?"

"I didn't know Sir Ignatius would kill him!" She dropped the egg and rubbed her forehead. "I only warned him in an attempt to ingratiate myself into his good graces. I thought if I could show some loyalty to him and not Gawler, he'd believe me when I asked to join his pack. I did it for you, Charlie, and for the ministry. I need to become Swinburn's confidant to spy on him properly. He needs to trust me." She clutched my hands and her eyes filled with tears. "You must believe me, Charlie. I would never have encouraged Gawler to go if I thought it would be his final act." She drew in a shuddery breath. "Poor man. To think—Swinburn shot him. Why not simply fight him honorably? They could injure one another yet not have the fight end in death. We do it all the time to settle disputes. Why shoot to kill?"

"To blame him for the Old Nichol deaths," Lincoln said. "The police believe they have their murderer now. They won't look elsewhere."

"And Swinburn becomes the city's hero," Seth added with a twist of his lips. "All because he happened to have a gun on him."

Harriet grasped her throat above her lace collar. "What will they do with Gawler? Are they going to cut him open and fiddle around inside his body?"

"Yes," Seth said.

She covered her mouth. I tried to comfort her, but it felt awkward, stilted. I couldn't decide whether she was acting or if I believed her to be as innocent as she claimed. I decided not to tell her the other reason we thought Swinburn killed Gawler—to eliminate a rival pack's leader. Since she would now be leader, it would be an outright accusation directed at her. I couldn't do it without more evidence.

I hoped I would never find that evidence. I didn't want Harriet to be guilty of something so cruel.

"The police will investigate Gawler's associates," Lincoln said. "Expect a visit from a Detective Inspector Fullbright."

She whimpered. "Investigate me?"

Seth crouched before her and took her hands from me. He waited until she met his earnest gaze. "You're the wife of a peer and heavily pregnant. They won't accuse you of anything. But the rest of the pack may come under suspicion of being werewolves. If you're able to contact them, warn them to avoid going for a run until this blows over."

She nodded. "I will. Thank you, Seth. You're a dear man."

He was certainly better at comforting than me.

I asked Lincoln on the way home what he thought of Harriet's reaction to our questions. "Could you tell if she was lying when she said she didn't suspect Swinburn would kill Gawler?"

He shook his head. "My seer's instincts failed me. I had to use regular human intuition."

"Oh dear."

He laughed softly. "She did not seem too surprised or upset over Gawler's death, only that it was a shooting."

I slumped forward only to straighten again when my corset dug into uncomfortable places. I'd only just taken to wearing them on a regular basis because I grew tired of Lady Vickers tsk tsking every time I saw her of a morning. I was still getting used to the restriction of movement. "That was my thought too," I said. "Lincoln, I think she may have double-crossed us, and is not spying on Swinburn after all but has befriended him."

"Then we can no longer trust her."