The House That Jack Built by Robert Asprin & Linda Evans

Loose on Shangri-La Commons.

And with Mary Kelly still very much alive in London of 1888, it was high odds he couldn’t even be killed. History could not be changed. Jolly Jack had to survive long enough to cut that poor girl into mangled pieces. Kit began to curse, starting in English and moving through Portuguese, German, Latin, Old Norse, and every other language he’d ever learned. If the petite weapons instructor hadn’t been so well trained, if she hadn’t been the kind of woman who went armed everywhere but bed . . .

Station sirens slashed through the infirmary once more.

“Code Seven Red, Zone Five! Repeat, Code Seven Red, Zone Five! All resident time scouts and guides, report to station security immediately for emergency duty. Clear the Commons at once, this station is hereby under martial law. Code Seven Red, Zone Five . . .”

Kit bolted toward the door, glancing at the television in the infirmary lobby, tuned to Channel Three, which was permanently hooked into the Commons’ extensive security-camera system. Station security, pest control, even BATF agents herded terrified and angry tourists toward their hotels, using riot batons to push them along when necessary.

“Caddrick is gonna eat this up like a hog in heaven,” Kit groaned, abandoning the television and heading out the door at a dead run. He had barely cleared the entryway when it came again. “Code Seven Red! Zone Six! All Shangri-La shop owners, lock down and secure your areas. Any visitors not clear of the Commons in three minutes will be arrested on sight. Repeat, Code Seven Red, Zone Six . . .”