by C. J. Archer
“And he thinks a living person is causing the chaos?”
“He does. But how can that be? How can someone from here influence what happens there?”
“A curse perhaps.” He moved one of the ladders fixed to the bookshelf railing and positioned it near the fireplace. That corner of the library seemed gloomier than the rest, being furthest away from the large arched windows that looked out upon Wilton Crescent.
“It seems likely since our recent problems with demons and possessions have mostly come about from curses in one form or another.”
Some curses, or incantations, could only be spoken by a medium for them to work, and some needed a talisman or object, but others could be uttered by anyone. Learning the words, however, was another issue entirely.
“George,” I hedged, “you may not like what I’m going to suggest, but do you think someone from the Society For Supernatural Activity would have the know-how to do something like this?”
He looked down at me from halfway up the ladder. “Someone like Price you mean?”
“Yes.” Leviticus Price was an eccentric scholar connected to the man who’d released the shape-shifting demon. He’d also proved evasive when we tried to ask him about possession. I didn’t like him. He made feel like I was little better than something he’d scraped off the bottom of his shoe. Perhaps I was biased by my dislike and forming unfair conclusions, but so be it. We had to start somewhere.
“It’s possible.” George tilted his head to the side to read the book spines. “But I have the most extensive library of all the members and he hasn’t been here. Nor has anyone else of late and I doubt our villain would find a text on ways to disrupt the Otherworld anywhere else in London.”
“Perhaps he hasn’t found the information in a book at all.”
George peered down his nose at me. “Where else would he find it? Who would be in possession of such obscure knowledge and not write it down?”
I shrugged, but the more I thought about it, the more the idea took flight. All the books in George’s library were written in the last few centuries by Englishmen or translated into English from foreign texts, but the authors must have gotten the information from somewhere. So where? Who had told them about the supernatural in the first place?
“He was elected Grand Master, you know,” George said, flicking through a heavy leather bound book.
“Price? Grand Master of what?”
“The Grand Master is head of the Society.” He shut the book, tucked it under his arm, and descended the ladder. “I’m not sure how he managed it. He’s not particularly well liked, but he is extremely clever. Perhaps the general membership thought he deserved to be leader since he’s so devoted to the supernatural.”
“Does it give him any special powers?”
“Like flying or super-human strength?”
“Very amusing.”
George’s blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “He chairs our meetings and has the final say on changes to our charter.”
“That doesn’t sound very interesting.”
A footman entered carrying a tray with tea things. He set it down just as Mrs. Culvert entered. “Ah, Miss Chambers, what a lovely surprise.” Her tight smile didn’t reach her eyes, which were equally tight, pulled back at the corners by her severe hairstyle. “How are you, my dear?”
“Well, thank you.”
“And your family?”
“My sister and aunt are also well,” I said, although Mrs. Culvert didn’t seem to be listening to my answer.
“Mother, don’t you have a lunch appointment?” George asked.
“Yes, yes, all in good time. I want to chat to Miss Chambers first. Such a sweet girl. Just like her friend. What’s her name again?”
I wasn’t looking at George but I could practically hear his eyeballs rolling back in his head. “You know her name is Adelaide Beaufort,” he said, “and we can both see through your poor attempt to disguise your interest.”
When I first met George, he would never have spoken to his mother so boldly. I wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or to cheer him. Mrs. Culvert wasn’t a particularly pleasant lady. She didn’t like me. When we’d first met, she didn’t want me in her house at all. Clearly I was unacceptable company for her son to keep. Being a medium, dusky of skin, and not from Society, I wasn’t the sort of girl she wanted near her son in case we formed an affection for one another. Fortunately it was her son’s house and he enjoyed my company. It was only after she learned of my friendship with Adelaide that she accepted me.
Mrs. Culvert’s smile didn’t waver. It was as if it had been painted on along with the rouge on her cheeks. “I suppose you’ll be at Miss Beaufort’s coming out ball? I’m not going of course. I have other commitments that evening, but I’m sure you younger ones will enjoy yourselves.”
“Mother,” George said on a sigh, “do you have to?” He’d told me that his mother desperately wanted to go to the ball but had not received an invitation. I felt a twinge of sympathy for her, but only a twinge, mind.
Through the open door of the library, we could hear the knocker bang on the front door. A moment, later the footman announced, “A Mr. Hyde.”
“Who?” asked Mrs. Culvert.
“I wonder why Theo is here,” I said.
“I imagine it’s to see you,” said George with a wink.
Theo entered and bowed to Mrs. Culvert and myself. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all.” George introduced him to his mother. “She was just leaving.”
“In a moment.” Her fingers brushed her lips and she eyed Theo up and down with an undisguised flash of desire.
I couldn’t blame her. Theo was a handsome man. He was blond like George, but that’s where the similarity ended. Where George’s hair was a riot of boyish curls, Theo’s was thick and straight. He was broader in the chest and shoulders too. George had the lean frame and milky skin of a London scholar.
“Are you related to the Hydes of Mayfair?” Mrs. Culvert asked.
“I’m from Shropshire, madam, but I’m related to the Arbuthnots of Kensington,” Theo said.
“Are the Arbuthnots peerage?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Her mouth flattened and her eyes turned hard and colorless once more. “Don’t let me keep you young people from doing whatever it is you do in here.” She headed for the door. “Give my regards to Miss Beaufort and Lady Preston, Miss Chambers. And do tell Miss Beaufort that George is very much looking forward to attending the ball.” She waggled her fingers at me then left. Her heels clicked on the tiled entrance hall until they disappeared altogether.
George breathed a sigh of relief.
“Theo, what brings you here?” I asked.
He took my hands and kissed the back of one. “I wanted to see you. I went to your house, but your sister said you’d come here.” His smile was warm and focused entirely on me. A little thrill skidded down my spine at the attention.
“You don’t have lectures this morning?”
He rubbed my hands with his thumbs, his gaze intent on the small swirling motion. “No.”
How odd. It was Tuesday and I was sure he had lectures every Tuesday morning. “And Carson and Kellerman didn’t need you instead?” I asked, referring to the law firm where he worked.
He let go of my hands. “So many questions, Emily, you’re worse than my aunt. No, I am not needed there today.” He nodded at George. “How do you do, Culvert?”
George passed him a book. “Since you’ve not got anything better to do, want to help us research?”
“Of course. At least these books are more interesting than the legal tomes I usually study.”
“Easier to understand too, eh?” said George, climbing the ladder once more.
Theo laughed and set the book on the table. I poured tea for us and it wasn’t until I handed Theo his cup that I realized he’d been watching me.
“You’re looking quite beautiful this morning,” he said, ac
cepting the cup.
My face heated as it always did. Theo had come calling at our Druids Way house many times since he’d helped to send the spirit of Mortlock back to the Otherworld. He was very attentive and always complimented me on my appearance. Although I liked it, I had not quite grown used to it. All my life people had stared at me or whispered about me because of either my talent as a medium or my darker than white skin. To now have nice things said about me, to be called beautiful and exotic by handsome men like Theo, George, and Jacob was quite a change. I was not yet accustomed to it. I might never be.
“Is your ball gown finished?” he asked.
“Almost.” I pulled the book toward me since he hadn’t opened it.
“The ball will be quite an event on the social calendar, and I’m rather looking forward to it.”
“So am I. But for now, we must find out what is happening in the Waiting Area.” I launched yet again into the details of our current supernatural problem. Theo listened, his expression growing more and more serious.
“I’m glad I’m available to help.” He took a book from George who’d descended the ladder with an armful. Theo blew dust off the top.
“I don’t think these ones have been touched since my father died,” George said, sitting opposite.
We each set to our books. Lunch came and went, as did another round of tea, and the pile of books we finished studying grew higher and higher. When a footman entered and lit the cast iron gas lamps, I realized it had grown late in the day.
“I should go,” I said. “Celia will be getting worried.”
“I’ll walk you home,” Theo said, rising. “I’d take you in my carriage, but the driver is washing it today.” He grinned. He didn’t have a coach of his own. His cousin in Kensington did, but I’d not once seen Theo borrow it. Like me, he either walked or caught the omnibus.
“Tell him to stay on the main roads,” said Jacob, flaring into existence next to me. My heart lurched in my chest. It was so good to see him again. “It’s growing dark and some of the less frequented lanes will be dangerous.” He faded a little before once more solidifying.
“Jacob is here,” I announced. “If you’re busy, Theo, then he can walk with me.”
“No,” Jacob said. “I want him to do it.”
I raised my brows at him.
“I’m not busy,” Theo said cheerfully.
Jacob crossed his arms and raised his brows right back at me. “It’s settled then.”
I tried not to be upset that he didn’t want to escort me home. After all, being invisible to everyone but me was hardly a deterrent to thugs. I also knew he was trying to push me toward Theo. He’d stated his opinion on the matter of Theo courting me before. Stated it very clearly. He was certainly in favor of us spending more time alone together.
“My killer said I must give something up,” he’d once told me. “Something dear to me. You are dear to me.”
It was impossible to feel put out after that declaration. Jacob felt that giving me up would break the curse laid upon him at the moment of his death, and he would finally be allowed to crossover. I didn’t like it, but I wanted what was best for him, and crossing over was definitely for the best. I couldn’t bear to have him remain here and watch me grow old.
Besides, if I could not be escorted by Jacob then Theo was a good second choice. He was excellent company.
“You’re not going to disagree with me, are you?” Jacob asked.
“Of course not. When have I ever been known to disagree with you?”
He snorted softly. “Frequently. I’m beginning to think it’s your favorite pastime.”
“If you said things that made perfectly good sense, I wouldn’t need to disagree with you.”
“Walking home with Theo doesn’t make good sense? It does to me, Em. I won’t be much help at the moment.” His voice drifted as he spoke and he vanished completely.
“Jacob!”
He returned again, his brows knitted with anxiety. “See what I mean?”
I blew out a measured breath. “Have you learned anything from the Administrators?”
He perched on the edge of the table and flipped through the nearest book. Theo’s eyes widened, but George didn’t flutter an eyelash. He was used to Jacob now, and seeing objects move as if of their own free will no longer caught him unawares.
“They know how it’s being done,” he said gravely. “It’s quite shocking. You may need to sit down.”
I sat.
“What is it?” Theo asked. “What has he said?”
“Nothing yet.” I nodded at Jacob. “Go on.”
He closed the book. “You won’t find the answers in any of these, I’m afraid. Not this time, although the villain is using a curse.”
“We thought as much. It’s definitely caused by a curse,” I told George and Theo. “Why won’t we find information about it in one of these books? They’re riddled with all sorts of useful incantations.”
“Not this one. It’s ancient and few people know of its existence let alone the precise words. It’s considered so dangerous that the custodians of the curse have never written it down.”
“Custodians?”
“A Romany clan.”
“Gypsies!”
“What about gypsies?” George asked.
“Thieves the lot of them!” Theo spat.
“Steady on,” said George. “Surely not all of them are as bad as their reputation suggests.”
“They are. Every single one.” Theo crossed his arms. “They’re taught how to pick pockets when they’re barely out of the cradle and graduate to horse stealing and worse by Cara’s age. A group of them camp near our farm every summer, and every summer we lose sheep from the fields and tools from the barn. One year they stole the bread right out of the kitchen.”
“Brazen,” muttered George.
I told them what Jacob had said about the ancient curse causing the havoc in the Waiting Area. “You said it was shocking,” I said to him, “but uttering an old curse is not terribly earth-shattering.”
“The manner in which it’s delivered to the Waiting Area is,” he said. “The Administrators had difficulty determining how it was happening because the method of its delivery is so astonishing.” He shook his head. “I still cannot believe it.”
“Tell me. I am in suspense.”
He set his unblinking gaze on me. “The one delivering the curse must be dead.”
“Dead!”
“Who’s dead?” George asked.
“Aside from the obvious.” Theo indicated the book Jacob had been flicking through.
“The cursor is dead,” I told them. “He or she delivered the curse into the Waiting Area by dying first. So that’s that then. The villain is dead and most likely somewhere in the Waiting Area right now. Goodness knows why they would want to destroy the very system they’re now dependent upon to crossover. All you need to do is tell us how to reverse the curse, or who we need to speak to. If we must find a Romany, then so be it.”
“You won’t get a straight answer out of a gypsy,” Theo said. “They lie as adeptly as they steal.”
“You don’t understand,” Jacob said. “The curse has not been spoken only a single time, it has happened twice now, and the Administrators are none the wiser as to who did it.”
“Twice? So there were two people involved? How remarkable to have two people prepared to die to achieve such an end. At least they’re gone now. Oh Jacob, this means your murderer is dead!” I clasped his hand but he shook his head.
“You’re right in that there may be more than one person involved, but not in the way you think. You see, both times the culprit has not stayed in the Waiting Area after he has delivered the curse. He, or she, returns here to the living realm.”
“Here!” I shook my head. “That’s not possible. Dead is dead.”
“Unless he’s brought back to life.”
CHAPTER 4
Good lord! Brought back to life after intentionally
dying? To put oneself through such an ordeal in order to deliver a curse was truly extraordinary, and incredibly dangerous. It was the act of a desperate individual.
“Emily?” George bobbed down to look me in the eyes. “Are you aware your mouth has flopped open?”
“What did he say?” Theo asked, resting a steady hand on my shoulder.
I repeated Jacob’s words and was met with gasps of horror.
“But…why?” Theo asked. “Why go to such lengths?”
“Because he hates me,” Jacob said. I did not repeat his words for Theo and George. We all knew the story of Jacob’s murder, of how his killer blamed him for Frederick’s death although we were not sure how that could be his fault.
“Because he has nothing to lose,” I said, answering Theo.
Jacob’s gaze held mine. “Or nothing to live for.” He may have been faint, but I could see violent waves of emotion rippling through him. He knew he was the cause of the turmoil in the Waiting Area, albeit indirectly, and it troubled him deeply.
“If he must die to deliver the curse,” Theo said, frowning, “why can’t anyone up there identify who it is?”
“A good point,” I said. “Surely the Administrators have seen them come then go again.”
Jacob shook his head. “There is a moment of uncertainty, where life hangs in the balance and death has not fully taken hold. It’s very brief, but in that time, the spirit is in transit.”
“In transit?”
“Traveling from this realm to the Waiting Area. It’s like a long, dark tunnel with a light at the other end. No one in the Waiting Area can see into it, including the Administrators, yet the spirit cannot see out either.”
“But they can speak?”
“Yes, if they have their wits about them. Most spirits are so shocked by their death and frightened about what will greet them at the end of the tunnel that speaking is the last thing on their mind. Whoever is saying the curse is aware of the transition process and aware of how long they have until they’re completely dead and cannot return.”
“Someone must be bringing him back to life,” I whispered. “That’s why you think more than one person is involved.”
