by C. J. Archer
"I've spoken extensively with George Culvert. He's quite an interesting fellow."
"And very knowledgeable."
He nodded, watching me closely. To see my reaction? But why? "Cara…" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I must apologize. I'm deeply sorry for doubting you. I regret my hasty dismissal of what you said a few weeks ago. Not only was it poor manners, I know now how naive I was."
I smiled warmly. "It's all right, Nathaniel. You were very confused at the time. You'd lost a considerable part of your memory and there I was, telling you all sorts of strange things. No sensible person would have believed me. You have no need to apologize."
He drummed his fingers together and seemed to be considering his next words carefully. Finally he lifted his gaze to mine and his fingers stilled. "I know you're a medium."
A hiss of air escaped my lips. "Samuel said he kept that information from you."
"Culvert told me."
"Oh."
He raised his hands, palms flat in surrender. "I'm sorry, Cara. I didn't put any pressure on him to reveal your secret."
"It's not a secret," I said quickly. "Well, perhaps it is, but not a very well kept one. All my friends and family know, and I don't keep it from those with an open mind who need my help with a spirit matter."
"Ah. So you think of me as closed-minded."
"No! Well, yes. You didn't take particularly well to learning about possession."
He winced. "True. But I hope I can make it up to you. I hope you can see that I'm willing to accept the strangest, most fantastical things you want to tell me." He smiled sweetly. "Please forgive me, Cara."
"There's nothing to forgive."
The footman brought in tea and cake. We didn't speak as he poured, and the silence felt…odd. Not strained, but not comfortable either. Perhaps it was because Nathaniel was looking at me in that way. A way I wanted only Quin to look at me.
Quin. Where was he now? And was he still angry with me?
The footman finally left, and I handed Nathaniel his teacup. He accepted it with another smile and a rather intense gaze that had my face heating.
"I want you to know that I don't mind," he said.
"Don't mind?" I frowned. It took me a moment to pick up the threads of our conversation again, and when I did, I blinked at him in surprise. "That I am a medium?"
"It adds to your unique charm."
I would have thought I possessed enough uniqueness simply from my coloring and having lived in another country on the other side of the world for the last eight years, but it would seem my being a medium was what made me odd in his eyes. Well then. I wasn't sure whether Nathaniel ought to know I found his opinion a little offensive or whether to accept it gracefully and swallow my pride. I supposed he was being as gentlemanly as possible about it.
"As long as you don't do that possession business like she did."
"Pardon?"
"The woman who possessed me. I mean, the woman who helped the spirit to possess me."
"Does this mean you've remembered something?" We'd wondered if a man could be a medium, even though all the texts had specified that only women were.
"Not everything. I cannot see her face, for example, but I do recall her voice. It was definitely a woman's voice."
"Perhaps she kept her face from you, so that you couldn't identify her when you became yourself again. What was her voice like?"
"Not high and silly, but not deep either." He shrugged. "It wasn't a particularly pleasant voice."
"Would you know it if you heard it again?"
"I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm not much help."
"It's all right. But there is a woman whose voice we might like you to hear."
"Who is she?"
"Mrs. Edith Myer."
"Myer again!"
I nodded. "She's Everett Myer's wife, and we've reason to believe she's possessed, or was."
"You don't say. Can a possessed woman also be a medium?"
"I don't know. If she is a medium, or was, she kept it a secret for a long time. Not even a whiff has reached Emily's ears—or mine—and we've been seeking other mediums for years."
"I think you need to tell me everything you know about the Myers. They seem to be involved in the supernatural up to their necks."
"Are you sure you want to hear it? It's quite a tale."
"I won't succumb to hysteria, Cara, if that's what you're afraid of."
I smiled. "I suppose not. You've proven your mettle after your display with Alwyn outside." I sipped my tea to wet my tongue for the long explanation I was about to give. "I think we've managed to piece together past events that are affecting what the Myers do today," I said. "In sixty-six, Edith's wealthy parents and two maids died suddenly. They were poisoned, and it was treated as suicide, or possibly murder-suicide, by the police. The matter was laid to rest. Shortly before that event, Edith had begun acting strangely. As the butler said, she wasn't quite herself. Shortly after the deaths, Edith married Myer. We now have reason to believe that both Everett Myer and the possessed Edith conspired to kill her parents so that she could inherit the family fortune."
He blew out a long breath. "Extraordinary. Is there more?"
"Oh yes." I couldn't keep the triumph out of my voice. "Quite a bit. We've suspected Myer of something for some time, we just didn't know what. He has a long history of acting suspiciously and recklessly when it comes to the supernatural. He first came to Quin's attention when—"
"Whoa!" He held up a hand. "Slow down. Quin is your friend, St. Clair, right? The foreigner?"
I sucked air between my teeth and hoped Quin wouldn't get mad—madder—at me for revealing his secret. "He's an otherworldly warrior who travels between realms to…fix things that have gone wrong. If he's summoned, that is."
He shook his head and blinked somewhat dazedly. "Interesting. Go on. How did Myer come to his attention?"
"There's a portal at Frakingham Abbey, near the house. It allows people and…other things to travel between realms. It's usually closed but there is a spell that will open it. That spell was uncovered and given to the Society for Supernatural Activity, of which Myer was merely a member then. He's now the master."
"When was this?"
"In sixty-seven." Oh. My. "Sixty-seven," I whispered.
"The year after Edith's parents were murdered. Is that significant?"
"I don't know." I tried to recall the exact dates on the newspaper articles, but I drew a blank. They were in Quin's possession. I would need to look at them, but I wasn't sure if that would help me fit any more pieces of the puzzle together. "I wonder if Myer joined the society before or after he met Edith."
"Why is that important?"
"It may not be. If he was a member of the society before he met her then that means he already knew about supernatural phenomena, and possibly had a direct hand in her possession somehow, maybe by knowing the medium who did it. But if he wasn't a member, and only joined after they married, then it may prove that he had nothing to do with her possession."
"A good point."
"What does interest me is that his visit to Frakingham in sixty-seven is the earliest reference we have to his zealousness. I find the timing extremely coincidental."
"What happened during that visit to Frakingham? Did he open the portal?"
I laid out the details for him, telling him that Myer had desperately wanted the book and believed opening the portal was the only way to get it. Unfortunately he'd released demons that killed his colleagues. "Quin had to come and get rid of them."
"So he's quite strong then, St. Clair?"
"Very."
His lips flattened. "Your eyes light up when you talk about him, Cara."
I thought about protesting, but all I said was, "Oh." I stared down at my teacup and, no longer thirsty, set it on the table near the sofa arm.
"I imagine it's thrilling having someone like that around."
I bit my lip and didn't dare look at him. "He ca
n't always be around. He returns to his realm when his task is complete."
"He does?"
"It's just that he's been kept busy here lately. We've seen a great deal of one another."
He was suddenly kneeling before me, his hand covering mine on my knee. "I can see that you are…intrigued by him."
"It's rather more than that."
He cleared his throat. "Cara, I think…I hope you know why I'm here."
"I think I do." I tried to remove my hand, but he wouldn't let it go.
"St. Clair is not…a viable option."
"Thank you for stating the obvious," I bit off.
His lips tightened, and I thought he would get up and leave, but he seemed to be making a conscious effort not to. "When your affections for him wane, I'll still be here."
I arched both brows. "Wane?" I would have laughed except I didn't want to hurt his feelings. "Nathaniel, if you believe that what I feel for Quin will simply fade over time, then I must tell you that you aren't as in love with me as you think you are."
It was his turn to arch his brows. "I beg to differ."
"If you were, you would know that such feelings are not trifling. They're solid and permanent. They're not going anywhere."
His eyes lowered to our linked hands and his cheeks infused with a blush. "That's quite a declaration. I hope he knows how lucky he is. And I hope you know what you're doing, Cara, but I can't help but think you're throwing your life away."
He went to remove his hand from mine, but I caught it with my other, trapping it. I was about to tell him that I wasn't throwing away my future, but had decided to embrace spinsterhood and do something worthwhile with my remaining years in this realm.
But Quin took that moment to walk in. He stopped short in the doorway. His gaze flattened at the sight of Nathaniel kneeling before me and me holding his hands. A muscle throbbed in his jaw.
He turned and walked away.
CHAPTER 8
I leapt up and squeezed past Nathaniel. "Quin! Wait!" I had to lift my skirts and run to catch up to him before he strode out the front door. Watkins hovered nearby, attempting to blend into the surroundings.
Quin stopped and I caught his hand. But now that I had him, I didn't know what to say. His hard eyes gleamed like polished gems, but he didn't look at me. Tension stiffened his shoulders and bunched the muscles in his jaw. He pulled his hand free of mine. It was such a small reaction, yet it brought tears to my eyes.
"Leave us, please, Watkins," I said.
The butler bowed and exited toward the service area at the back of the stairs.
I took Quin's hand again, and this time he didn't try to pull away. "Quin, I whispered. "Look at me."
He didn't.
I was about to touch his face when Nathaniel joined us. Quin pulled away from me again and took a step back. My heart sank.
"I'm going," Nathaniel said shortly. "I can see I'm only getting in the way here." He dipped his head in a bow to me. "Take care, Cara. If you change your mind…" His gaze shifted to Quin.
Quin crossed his arms and glared back at Nathaniel. It seemed he had no difficulty making eye contact with him. Not that I wanted him to make that sort of eye contact with me. He looked as if he wanted to punch Nathaniel in the nose.
Nathaniel proved he was made of stern stuff. He didn't cower but squared his shoulders. "You ought to know that a fellow named Alwyn was here. He threatened Cara."
Quin dropped his arms to his sides and a shadow passed over his face. "You…removed him?"
Nathaniel inclined his head. "If I were Cara's—" He huffed. "I think it's in Cara's best interests if she leaves the city for a while. She's not safe here while Alwyn is making threats."
I bit my tongue to stop myself telling him I didn't need his advice, but I'd injured him enough. He had helped me get rid of Alwyn, and for that, I was grateful.
Before I could tell him so, however, Quin said, "Faraday."
Nathaniel paused on the threshold. "Yes?"
"Thank you." Nathaniel gave him a flat smile and nodded. He turned to go, but Quin continued. "I'm sure Cara will wish to call on you again when all this over."
I was too shocked to utter a single word. I simply stared at him. The door clicked closed and I realized that Nathaniel had left and I hadn't said a proper goodbye.
I clamped my fists on my hips. "What was that for?"
Quin said nothing but he was at least looking at me now. His expression was unforgiving and fierce, but I was feeling fierce myself. I certainly wasn't going to retreat.
"You can't give him hope like that," I snapped. "It's not fair on him."
Watkins emerged from the service area and Quin turned that glare on him. The butler gulped and scurried away again.
Quin grabbed my hand and drew me up the stairs. My long skirt made stair climbing at speed quite impossible and I stumbled. He caught me and slowed his pace until we reached the third floor, where my room was located.
"If you required privacy, the sitting room would have been adequate," I told him.
He pushed open my bedroom door and directed me inside with a little shove. "Pack. Now."
He shut the door between us, me on the inside, him outside. I re-opened it. He stood there, his face a picture of barely contained rage.
"Stop it, Quin," I snapped. "You're being…medieval."
He stepped toward me, and I put my hands up, warding him off. I wouldn't put it past him to pick me up, carry me inside and pack for me. Perhaps that was more barbarian than medieval but, at that moment, I wouldn't have put it past him.
He heaved in a breath and let it out slowly. "Cara." His voice was a little less commanding, but it seemed to take some effort for him to soften it. "Will you leave London?"
"Not yet."
He leveled his gaze on me. "Please."
"Quin, I appreciate you asking me and not descending to caveman tactics, but I can't leave yet. There's too much to do here."
A beat passed. Two. "Then you leave me no choice."
He turned but I caught his arm before he walked off. "Where are you going?"
He gave me another one of his steely, don't-ask glares.
"No, Quin. Do not confront Alwyn."
He said nothing, but at least he didn't wrench himself free.
"Anyway, you would have to find him first. You know how difficult he can be to locate." Still no response, other than the glare. "There are only a few people in the city right now that I care about who would be on his list to…harm. Samuel, Charity and Tommy will be all right, once I send word. And you…" I swallowed. "You will be with me, where I can keep my eye on you."
I grinned, but that only turned his glare more withering. My smile faded. Jokes and reassurances weren't yielding results, so it was time to resort to the bald truth.
"What would you do with him if you found him? I doubt threats would work. Anything more…final…would be worse for you." I pressed my hand to his chest, over his heart. It thumped against my palm. "Your soul must be protected, Quin. You cannot kill a man in cold blood, only self-defense. If you do, you may never get out of Purgatory."
He groaned, the vibrations rumbling through my palm. "I'm not getting out anyway. I spoke to the administrators again today. They restated their decision to keep me in my current role as warrior."
"What? Why?"
"They say I'm competent."
"Then stop being competent!"
He grunted.
"I won't accept their decision," I said. "They cannot do that to you. Every soul should have a chance to cross or—" I bit my lip and lowered my hand.
"Or stay here using the spell from the book?"
I shrugged. Perhaps if I didn't go on, he would simply give up asking.
"Cara?" Or perhaps not.
"I need to warn Samuel about Alwyn. Are you coming?"
For a moment I thought he would order me to stay in the house but, after a brief hesitation, he said, "Since I can't find Myer or de Mordaunt, I might as wel
l escort you."
"Thank you. That would have been quite gallant if you hadn't said it in that bad-tempered voice."
He grunted.
"Or grunted."
We walked to Samuel's house and I managed to extract more than a few reluctant words from Quin about where he'd been that morning. Indeed, by the time he finished telling me how he'd searched for Myer and de Mordaunt all over the city before the trail ran cold, he seemed to have gotten over his bad temper. He was almost himself again, except that he was more alert than usual, as his gaze darted in all directions. Searching for Alwyn, I supposed, even though the threat hadn't been to my person but those I cared about.
"I believe they're trying to find Mrs. Myer," I told him.
"I too believe that."
"Do you know why?"
"No."
"I have a theory."
That earned me a surprised look and his full attention. "Go on."
I told him how I'd gone to see Duffield, the Hatfields' old butler, and all the things I'd learned from him. "It's possible that Edith is—was—possessed," I finished. When he didn't respond immediately, I added, "Perhaps."
"It's a good theory."
"Thank you."
"It would mean she's in danger from them."
"Yes," I said quietly. "She knows too much about the deaths. If the possession recently ended, she may have threatened to go to the police so Myer has decided to act."
"It would have been foolish of her to warn him of her intent to tell the authorities."
I frowned. "True. She doesn't strike me as a foolish woman. On the other hand, it's possible I haven't met the real Edith Myer, only the spirit possessing her."
"If this is a recent threat to him, why has he been searching for the book and trying to get through the portal for years? His interest in both is not recent."
"Also true. Damnation. I don't think my theory is standing up too well. Oh, that reminds me, did you notice the dates on those newspapers? The ones about the murders?"
"April 1866."
"About a year before Myer opened the portal that first time."
"Is that significant?"
"I don't know. It does seem coincidental that these events all happened around the same time. The deaths, the opening of the portal, Myer's new interest in the supernatural. Bloody hell. I wish I could think of a reason why it was significant."
