***
Emmeline Jardine lingered in the Natural History Museum’s vestibule, her owl-like eyes sweeping over the steady stream of guests passing through the double doors, but Lord Hale was nowhere to be found. She swallowed hard at the thought that she had been stood up only days after their engagement. If he didn’t show or he had changed his mind about their relationship, she wouldn’t have the nerve to go back into the gala and face her aunt and uncle. Of course Aunt Eliza would have something to say. She ground her teeth at the thought. As Emmeline stepped out of sight to calm her nerves, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Looking around the massive stone column, her eyes landed upon two familiar faces. Her breath hitched upon seeing Claudia sweep past the threshold.
Her dress was crafted from a deep emerald silk overlaid with swathes of black lace. Within their knots and woven threads were the silhouettes of creatures. Beetles and bees, tarantulas and butterflies creeped across lace leaves. As Claudia and Cecil grew closer, Emmeline realized the creatures were raised, and for a moment, she wished she could run her hands over the noblewoman’s form like she would have if her mother had worn such a beautiful dress. Upon seeing the strange light in Claudia’s unnaturally green eyes, all thoughts were dashed aside. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was. It wasn’t anger or sadness or even hatred; it was something wild. Within her gaze was something ever shifting, changing before it could come to fruition. At her side stood Lord Hale. Emmeline’s lips curled into a grin upon seeing him, but when his gaze fell upon her, the joy fell short of reaching his eyes. Beneath them were deep bags and the faint outline of what looked like a bruise on his cheek. When they passed, he stuck out his elbow for Emmeline to take. Cecil gave her a faint smile and gently squeezed her hand as she joined them.
Together they entered the great hall. Emmeline’s head fell back as she took in the massive steel tree trunks that held up the museum’s cathedral vaults and the wide, golden chandeliers that now hung from the glass ceiling. The room had been decorated with tall palm trees and lush planters brimming with exotic flowers the likes of which she had never seen. Lords and ladies huddled alongside curators who described the strange specimens while waiters passed through the vast room with plates of hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne. When Cassandra had asked if she was going, Emmeline had never expected such finery.
Across the room, she spotted her friend standing beside Miss Elliott’s stoically beautiful form, talking animatedly with Adam Fenice and Immanuel Winter. Cassandra. Emmeline’s heart sank. Since she had gotten engaged, she couldn’t get Cassandra out of her mind. Cass was the first person she wanted to tell, and each time she wanted to write her a note or dash to the Spiritualist Society, she had to remind herself that it was impossible. Guilt rang through her. What had she done?
“I need to speak to you privately,” Cecil whispered the moment his aunt stepped away from them to greet an older gentleman in a fine set of tails.
“Oh?” Emmeline asked, a cheeky smile sneaking across her features, but when she saw Cecil’s somber expression, her mirth faltered. “Is something the matter?”
Lord Hale looked over his shoulder to make certain his aunt’s attention was elsewhere before steering Emmeline into a dead-end hall. Hiding between two misshapen yew trunks, Cecil stood so close that she could feel a faint puff of air on her cheeks with each breath. He rested his hand on her arm, and with the other, he gently stroked her neck and the curve of her cheek. His gaze traveled over her hair and eyes, drinking her in until he reached her pouted lips. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her, but he didn’t move. Instead, he cast his eyes to the floor or the wall behind her but refused to meet her gaze.
“Cecil, what’s wrong? Please tell me.”
When he finally locked eyes with her, her heart sank at the fear tinging every fiber beneath the surface. His grip tightened on her as he asked, “Do you love me?”
“Of course I do. You know I do.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes?” Emmeline’s mouth dried at his pulse pounding against her skin. It wasn’t a beat of desire but one of unbridled terror. “Cecil, what is this about? You’re scaring me.”
Leveling his gaze with her, he replied with his voice tight, “Emmeline, things may happen tonight, things that I should never have agreed to, but it’s too late for me. I’m bound to my promise. It was foolish.” Cecil drew in a rattling breath. “I fear you won’t feel the same way about me after it has happened— that I won’t be the same. If you leave before Claudia returns, you may have a chance. We may have a chance.”
“I don’t understand. A chance of what? What are you talking about?”
Cecil glanced behind him, his eyes widening in alarm as his aunt drew closer. “Just know I didn’t understand what she intended to do until it was too late.”
Before she could reply, he drew back, pretending to study an information card. With a cough and a hardening of his jaw, he regained some semblance of composure. Claudia sauntered over to their hiding place with a flute of champagne gracefully wrapped beneath her slender fingers. Under the bowers of dead yews, her bronze curls took on a metallic sheen and her skin an alabaster shine that made Emmeline wonder if she was truly of their world. A sharp smile spread across her lips as her gaze slid between them as if unaware of the barely smothered looks of fear on their faces.
“Ah, my lovebirds, now is not the time to hide. You must come back to the party. One must be social even while in love.”
Slipping between them, she eyed Cecil, who wouldn’t meet her gaze, before turning to Emmeline. She lightly lifted her chin, her nails pressing into her cheek. With her other hand she swept the hair from Emmeline’s forehead, but when the glass grazed her cheek, Emmeline felt a vibration ring through her. It was barely more than a low hum, but it spread through her body, working its way down until it reached her heart where it spread with each beat. Claudia threaded her arm through Emmeline’s, compelling her feet forward even as her head swiveled back to Cecil who lingered in the hall.
“Dear Cecil told me of your engagement, and I couldn’t be happier,” Claudia crooned as she led her back to the throngs of guests and the bright nave where a pink, sun-kissed sky still shown. “Come, come. The fun will begin any minute now, and we mustn’t keep them waiting.”
***
Immanuel’s heart pounded in his throat as he stepped into the vestibule. He would have run from there in an instant if it weren’t for Adam and the Dorsets at his side. Hadley gazed at him tenderly from her husband’s arm and gave his wrist a gentle squeeze.
“Are you nervous?” she asked soft enough that only Immanuel could hear. “Parties aren’t Eilian’s forte either, except on the rare occasion when they involve artifacts and exhibits.”
“She’s right, you know,” Eilian chimed in with a lopsided grin. “Have you seen the exhibit for the silphium? We haven’t heard heads or tails of it since we sent in the seedling.”
“I have. It’s the centerpiece of the exhibit. Mr. Nichols has been hard at work perfecting it since I arrived. The director hopes it will bring in more interest in the botanical wing and of course, more donations.”
“He will regret that soon enough.”
Immanuel turned to find Peregrine Nichols at his elbow as they entered the great hall. “Lord and Lady Dorset, this is Mr. Nichols, the junior botany curator.”
The moment Eilian proffered his hand, Peregrine grasped it, giving it a hardy shake without even noting that it was made of metal. Raising Hadley’s hand to his lips, he gave her a graceful bow. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have wanted to personally thank you for your generous donation, Lord and Lady Dorset. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I would like your permission to send off a few specimens to New York and Paris. They have expressed an interest in it and well, it would be a great opportunity for research which is far beyond my expertise, as Winter here will tell you.”
“Of course you may. I donated it so
it could be studied. Feel free to send it to whomever you see fit, but if I may, would you be willing to send me any findings they uncover? The silphium has been in my family for years, and I would like to learn its history,” Lord Dorset replied with a genial grin.
“I certainly will. Now, if you will excuse us, Winter and I need to take care of some museum business,” Peregrine replied, giving Immanuel a pointed look.
Immanuel excused himself, watching as Eilian and Hadley drifted over to the Hawthornes who stood near a mammoth skeleton. At his elbow, Adam followed a step behind. He scanned the crowd, giving each person who caught his eye a graceful nod and a manicured smile. Immanuel’s gut churned as Peregrine threaded them through the throngs of patrons, taking them out of the way to go around cases of fossils and petrified plants where Sir William held court with donors whose names appeared proudly emblazoned on brass plaques. Immanuel stooped as they passed a short case, in hopes the director wouldn’t catch a glimpse of his unfortunately remarkable features.
“Despite my feelings on the matter, Elliott would like me to bring you both to her,” he stated curtly as they climbed the stone steps to the bridge that overlooked the length of the hall.
At the center of the rail, Judith Elliott and Cassandra Ashwood stood together, watching couples walk arm-in-arm below and the heads of the museum hobnob with aristocrats. Upon hearing their steps ringing on the stone, the women turned. Immanuel was relieved to find them somber but not afraid.
“Mr. Winter, Mr. Fenice, it’s good to see you. Has there been any sign of Lady Rose or Lord Hale?” Judith asked.
Peregrine shook his head. “They aren’t here yet, as best as I can tell.”
With a wave of Judith’s hand, they moved to the other side of the catwalk where the vestibule stood in full view. Immanuel stared over the rail, watching a familiar black head circle a column as the trickle of guests flowing into the museum slowed. When Emmeline raised her gaze, he leaned back out of sight.
“Emmeline is here. Do you— do you think she is part of all this?”
Cassandra pursed her lips, pushing a strand of wavy brown hair behind her ear without taking her eyes off the girl below. “She is, but I don’t know if she knows it.”
“Wait, she’s spotted someone.”
They watched as Emmeline linked arms with an auburn-haired man, a smile brightening her features. Immanuel’s throat tightened at the sight of the woman at their side. She looked nothing like Lord Rose, yet there was something about the predatory roll of her hips and the polished control of her features that sent the icy thrill of fear through him. For a second, the filthy mortar walls rose around him, engulfing his senses in offal and paralyzing pain.
“Let’s rejoin the party. We can watch them better below.”
Immanuel jerked back to reality. He turned to follow Judith but found Adam watching him with an all too familiar look of concern. Had he seen him slip? Casting his eyes to the ground, he pushed it from his mind. The best thing he could do was pretend he could forget. At the bottom of the steps, they skirted the crowd, taking up position at the edge of the main aisle where they could see to the far side of the room through the glass-paneled cases that littered the hall. Judith snatched a passing glass of champagne and watched Lady Rose from under her lashes.
“Nichols, what’s down that hall?” she asked as Lord Hale led Emmeline out of sight.
“Nothing important. It’s a dead end.”
“Keep an eye on them.”
“Should we get her away from him?” Immanuel said, keeping his back to the alcove.
Ignoring Cassandra’s nervous glance, Judith threw back the fizzing drink in one gulp. “Not yet.”
Reaching into his pocket, Immanuel ran his thumb along the letters and symbols inscribed into the vivalabe’s brass face. How easy it would be to spy on them if he didn’t have to worry about it being stolen. His nerves reeled at the thought of someone taking it from him. It gave him a second sight that allowed him to track the beings that haunted him, and he wouldn’t give it up easily. Hazarding a glance behind him, he watched Lady Rose speak to the assistant director, her teeth flashing with every word. Immanuel quieted his mind and searched the crowd for anyone who radiated the vibration Peregrine had mentioned, but no one seemed out of place apart from Lady Rose.
“Are there others here? Other Interceptors?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
Judith’s eyes followed someone in the crowd. “Only us.”
“Just three?”
Adam’s hand gently squeezed his arm in a fleeting but intimate embrace as he passed into the blurred side of his vision.
“Mr. Winter, you must understand, it is the solstice. There are only so many of us in the London office to cover a large area. The next office of our size is in Edinburgh.”
“How many people get involved in—?” Adam stammered. Why was the word so bloody hard to say? “In witchcraft.”
“You would be surprised. The thing is, we have little proof as to what they plan to do, and we were lucky my superiors gave us three tonight. Then there’s the problem of having too many Interceptors in one place. Lady Rose would certainly feel it and run or at least be much less amicable. Rather than give ourselves away, we will simply watch and act when the need arises.”
“What are we waiting for them to do?” Immanuel whispered, casting a glance to where Emmeline and Lord Hale stood.
Judith cocked her head, her hazel eyes running between Immanuel and Peregrine. “You didn’t tell him?”
The impish man shrugged and barred his arms tightly across his chest. “I have been very busy. Besides, I didn’t see the need.”
Shooting him a reproachful look, she opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it. Judith locked eyes with Peregrine for a long moment before turning to Immanuel with softer features. “Yesterday we received word from our contacts in Germany about the grimoire. When it left their possession months ago, they had been attempting to send it to one of the book’s previous owners without knowing she had died in a fire by the time they sent it. According to our sources, the grimoire is a guide to unlocking the secrets of death: communication, revival, peering into the spaces between life and death, namely a realm called Eidolon. The reason the book was originally hidden away was due to an association with an otherworldly being.”
“Like— like a demon?” Immanuel asked, his eyes as wide as Adam’s.
“In a sense. Many magical items are tied to the power of something outside our world. Some creatures are merely curious about humanity, others treat us like pampered pets, and many want to exploit our world. We believe the creature tied to the grimoire is malevolent. Our German contact said it hasn’t been summoned for centuries, but from their records, it appears to have not ended well, especially once it grew accustomed to its new body.”
“Its new body? Immanuel, we should leave,” Adam whispered, his eyes bulging as he reached for Immanuel’s arm but let his hand drop.
Judith fell silent, her eyes traveling with Lady Rose’s path. “Don’t worry, Mr. Fenice. We won’t let it get that far. It isn’t as if they could perform the ritual here with all these people around.”
“Then what are they doing here?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out. Hopefully enjoying the gala.”
Swallowing hard, Immanuel asked, “And Miss Jardine’s role in all of this, do you think she is to be their sacrifice?”
“I don’t know. If she is bound to the book, then she will be worth more alive, but…”
Immanuel turned in time to find Emmeline hooked onto Lady Rose’s lace-clad arm. The air squeezed from his lungs at the woman’s sharp smile, so at odds with the way she gently patted Emmeline’s arm. How could Emmeline follow the wife of the man who ruined their lives, who killed her mother? How? As she passed, her face contorted into a grimace before falling into a well-mannered grin. Perhaps it wasn’t so willing after all.
“Did you see that? Surely, we have to do something to get Em
meline away from them.”
“As I said to Cassie, we will do nothing of the sort until we have to. We aren’t to interfere until then, do you understand? Don’t make me regret involving you, Mr. Winter.”
A gong rang through the great hall. Sir William stood at the entrance to the new exhibit flanked by the museum’s numerous grey-haired chairs and senior curators. For once the director wasn’t scowling or staring down his patrician nose, but as his eyes swept over the crowd to find Immanuel and Peregrine standing together, his usual rigor remained beneath his welcoming façade.
“Would my junior curators join me, so we can begin?”
Pushing past them without a word, Peregrine knocked into Immanuel’s arm as he headed toward the front of the crowd. Immanuel locked eyes with Adam, every unsaid reassurance passing between them. In his mind’s eye, he traced the familiar sigil hidden beneath his lover’s shirt and sealed it with a final tap, hoping to fortify them against the hollow fear bubbling in his gut, but as he took a step forward, a firm hand closed around his sleeve. Cassandra Ashwood stared back at him, her eyes pleading a warning she dared not say.
Chapter Thirty
Bees and Wasps
The gong sounded in the direction Emmeline had just come, but even as the rest of the guests turned to see what was happening, Claudia compelled her toward the far side of the room, away from the crowd. Her hand had closed around Emmeline’s arm like a steel band, yet what kept her moving forward wasn’t her firm grip but the feeling that someone else steered her legs and that once again her soul hadn’t settled in her body correctly. When they finally reached the void at the end of the sea of guests, Cecil appeared at her side. His brows furrowed and he stood unusually straight.
Without casting a glance in his direction, Claudia patted Emmeline’s hand and said, “My apologies, Emmeline, but I must leave you now.”
“You aren’t going to see the exhibit? Are you unwell?” Emmeline asked, searching the woman’s features for any sign of pallor or weakness. Even if she had only shown up to be seen, it was much too early to depart.
Dead Magic Page 26
