“Yeah,” Anya said, picking up a book opened to an illustration of a scythe embedded in a rock. She snapped the book shut. “This has to be bad for your inventory.”

“If we are still facing down imminent destruction, then I was right and there is no time to waste on quitter sticks,” Ripper said, setting the books in his hands down on the counter. “Unlike you American children, I had an actual public school education. I can handle reading more than one book at once.”

“Hey, Andrew and I went to public school,” Jonathan said.

Andrew nodded as he dropped both the backpack and messenger bag to the floor. “My mom wanted to send me to Christian Brothers High but then she died, and my aunt couldn’t afford the tuition for me and my brother—”

“He’s not talking about your high school. In England, public school is privatized, and private school is for the public,” Spike said with a grunt, speaking for the first time since they left Drusilla at the temple. Leaning against an empty bookcase, he gave Ripper an unfriendly once-over. “This one’s an Eton nob if I’ve ever seen one. I bet that rough accent is a fake, too. Never been south of the Thames, have you?”

Ripper’s blue eyes showed outrage, but his face remained placid. “And you, William the Bloody, are said to have been such a mama’s boy that you couldn’t bear to be parted with her long enough to attend a proper boarding school.” At Spike’s look of shock, Ripper let out a self-satisfied chuckle. “It wasn’t Eton. It was the Watchers Academy. Then Oxford.”

“You’re a Watcher and you didn’t mention it before?” Angelus asked sharply.

Anya folded her arms defensively across her chest. “Don’t you have to go door to door and tell all your neighbors that you’re a nasty peeper?”

“Not that kind of watcher, you silly bint,” Ripper groaned, staring up at the boutique’s gray ceiling. “A slayer’s Watcher. Mentors in charge of the slayer’s training in the history and practice of vampire hunting. But I’m not one. I got the education and then got out of the family business. It wasn’t for me. I chose another path.”

“Magic,” Spike snorted. “I’m sure your mum and dad were chuffed.”

“Look, Mister Ripper,” Jonathan said before the Brits could start throwing esoteric references at each other again. “We need help stopping the slayer.”

“Permanently stopping her,” Spike said, tromping across several of the open books on the floor as he made his way over to the farthest display case. The spines cracked apart with an awful sound. “Do you have any weapons in here?”