A/N: I couldn't leave without an epilogue, could I? For those of you who have asked, this isn't the end of The Whitechapel Chronicles. Book three, the final instalment in the series will be out in 2015, however if you want to keep yourself up to date with news of book three, including access to exclusive teasers and sneaky snippets, then please do come along and join the Facebook group The Chapelite Asylum:

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 I hope you enjoy this last glimpse into Megan's world until she returns in 2015, please do hit that vote button and leave a comment if you do. Thanks once again for all your unwavering support, you guys simply are the most amazing readers I could ever wish for.

 With love,

Cinnamon xxxx

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Garrick?

I called out into the darkness.

There had been a whisper of him. Some small sense of his presence here, so soft like the scent of his skin carried on a breeze, only when I searched for him, it was gone and I wondered if it was my memories that haunted me and not Garrick himself.

I ached for him. I ached for his smile. I ached for his scowl. I yearned for the way he would smooth back that long outgrown Mohawk. I yearned for his wisdom and for the way he always made me feel safe.

He was here somewhere. I just knew it. And so I continued my search, asking those pale ravaged faces if they had seen him but they all shook their heads and went on wailing their tortured lament until I reached out, soothing them with my touch.

Soon, soon, I said, be patient, judgment will come, but first.......

I carried on, a pinprick of light in the eternal dark seas of Purgatory, wading through the tide of souls, comforting those that pleaded and cried. The dark, twisted ones kept back, afraid of the light but I could feel their hatred burning in the shadows, I could hear the hiss of their curses but nothing was going to stop me.

Since we had arrived at Josiah's home, an old disused Baptist church in Holborn, Harper still hadn't regained consciousness and I was starting to lose hope that he ever would. I had tended his wounds; refusing Josiah's assistance in fear that he might take the opportunity to wring the last bit of life from Harper's neck, but I knew instinctively just how much damage had been done. Too much blood had been lost, his injuries too severe and it was now all down to fate. I had even tried to make him drink from me, as I had with Garrick, biting at my own wrist and letting the drops of blood fall into his mouth, hoping that the taste would awaken him and bring him back to me. But he had remained as still as he had since Josiah had helped carry him into the house and laid him in this small, sparse room with its cobwebbed corners and dust bunnies under the bed.

It wasn't my room. My room had been Josiah's room, or wherever he decided that I would sleep and that was usually close to wherever he might be. I think he enjoyed torturing me, knowing that I didn't want to be parted from Harper but I had gritted my teeth and bore it with exhausted submission. I had insisted, however, on keeping Lucius with me and it was by his side that I now lay, my fingers curled into his palm as he slept.

I couldn't resist the pull of Lucius' touch. Garrick had been on my mind constantly. Every now and then, as I cared for Harper and tried to revive him, I would feel my skin prickle intensely and had this feeling that if I turned around; Garrick would be there, watching us with that mischievously glint in his eyes. I couldn't fight the notion that he was treading those dark waters and that I was meant to find him somehow. And besides, I knew that if I did find him, he would tell me what to do. Not before rolling his eyes and cursing me for getting myself into this mess, of course, but that I could cope with. In fact, I could have coped with anything just to see his face again.

There had been no word from Fenton, Edward or any of the others since the battle at Oxleas Wood. I had no idea whether they were alive or dead. If they were alive, I had no idea whether they were searching for us, or whether they believed we had all perished under the claw and tooth of the Great Wolf and of course, I had no way of finding out since I was effectively imprisoned in Josiah's home. The seer had not said it; he'd never said the actual word, but shortly after our arrival, as he'd shown me around my new home, he'd gone over the terms of our contract and the warning in his voice had made my situation perfectly clear. And since then, although he'd demanded nothing of me, I'd felt the scorching hot burn of his white stare follow me everywhere I went and couldn't shake the feeling that he was waiting for something, although what that was, I didn't have a clue.

But that was fine. I was waiting too. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for a sign, maybe. Waiting for a ghost.

On and on I wandered, desperate to find the trail that had gone cold a long time before, if indeed the trail had ever existed in the first place. Soon the burden of loss and heartache seemed to weigh heavier than the insistent painful pull of my wings that were desperate to burst through my flesh, the further and further I travelled. And the further I travelled, the greater the press of the crowd as they flocked towards me, only retreating when I reached out a hand bathed in a soft glow to soothe the closest ones to me, who were then just replaced by more of the dead all desperately seeking the light.

I was about to give up and release Lucius' hand, when I caught a scent of him, of Garrick, and I looked around frantically in time to see the back of someone's head through the crowd, moving away from me against the tide.

Garrick? I called out again, straining to look through the crush of bodies, but he was soon swallowed up by the gathering souls.

I began to push my way through, using the touch of my hand to ease the frustrations and panic of the nearest souls and help to force them back slightly, so that I could slip between them, desperate to follow Garrick. Some of them, fearing that I was about to desert them, grabbed at my arms, their fingers digging a little too sharply into my skin.

No, stop! You must be patient, you must let me through.

A gap appeared and there he was again, a glimpse of his face, the strong line of his jaw, a loose lock of hair. I was determined to not lose the trail again. He was here. Garrick was here and I was meant to find him, I just knew I was.

I pressed onwards, holding my arms out and letting my fingertips brush against faces, using my hands as a way to stem the tide and open up a channel through which I could pass easily, always with my eyes ahead, trying not to lose him. His scent was all around me now and I smiled in spite of my struggle, because I was getting closer and closer and soon, he would be right here in front of me and everything would be okay. It really would.

The demons were grinning now too, their scowls twisting upwards to reveal lines of sharp, ugly teeth as they moved stealthily through the crowd. Their high-pitched snickering assaulted my ears and my eyes flickered irritably to where they were. I was always offended by their presence here but never had I been overly concerned about their reaction towards me, they usually kept their distance, always watching but never acting. Somehow I knew they couldn't hurt me, I wasn't sure whether that was because of what I was or simply because I wasn't dead. And yet this time, as they shadowed my every move, I could help but feel unsettled by their wicked glee and malicious laughter.

With dogged persistence, I carried on regardless, following Garrick through the dark seas. I spied the contour of his cheekbone as he turned his head slightly, the way his lips curled up into a smile, the way the souls moved out of his way as he walked through them.

The laughter of the demons was growing louder now and I frowned, feeling a tingle of unease creep across my shoulder blades as if one of them had reached out and was running a long, gnarled taloned-fingertip across my skin. Something felt wrong here and it reminded me of when I had met Lucius outside Fenton's base in Greenwich. At the time, I had no idea what was happening and I still didn't know for certain as Lucius had remained tight-lipped on the subject, but I did know with absolute certainty that I felt the same prickling sense of foreboding now as I had then.

Something is coming, something is coming.

Garrick was barely fifteen metres ahead now and yet suddenly I was overwhelmed with fear. 

Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen....

I called his name again and again and still he didn't turn around.

Twelve, eleven, ten....

This wasn't right. I knew it. I could feel it. Of all my visits to Purgatory, not once had I come across a soul that didn't flock towards the light. Those that didn't were the shadowy ones, the ones that had been twisted by the demons and soon to become demons themselves. But the others? They didn't walk away. They just didn't. So why was Garrick, of all people, walking away from me? Why didn't he seek the light?

Nine, eight, seven....

There was something in the way he walked, something in the way he carried himself, the way in which he moved that didn't ring true. I called his name one last time as I slowed my pace.

Six......

I stopped and as I stopped, so did he.

Six.....

He turned, slowly, deliberately, and all too late I realised I had been tricked. I had let my own selfish needs blindly lead me forwards. It wasn't him. It wasn't Garrick.

Six.....

He smiled. It was a smile so beautiful that I was mesmerised by it. It was a smile so utterly captivating that I could understand immediately why people would give their very souls to get down on their knees and worship him. It was a smile so completely compelling that I could understand why people would blacken their core and commit the most unspeakable acts, just so they could see that smile for eternity.

Well, well, Michael, Lucifer said, still smiling, you really have outdone yourself this time, haven't you? I think I'm going to enjoy the next part of our game.

He looked me up and down, a warm appreciation in his eyes.  

Yes, I do believe that I'm going to enjoy the next part of our game immensely.