Evermore (3 page)

"I don't think tea will solve my problem,"
Jacob said.

I didn't think so either, but it would make
Celia feel better and remove us from prying eyes. Our elderly
neighbors liked to occupy their day by watching the street through
their windows.

Lucy, our maid, met us in the hallway. I told
her Jacob was present and she went very still. Only her eyeballs
moved, scanning the vicinity. She could not see him, of course.
Only I could, and Cara, my ten year-old aunt who'd moved into the
spare bedroom.

"Where's Cara?" I asked, hanging up my hat on
the coat stand.

"In the kitchen helping me bake." Lucy took
the bag Celia passed to her. "Shall I fetch her, miss?"

"No!" Celia and I both said together. I
didn't want Cara to worry or feel that she needed to help us. She'd
had a difficult life and it was time she enjoyed the few years of
childhood remaining and leave serious matters to her elders.
Apparently Celia had the same idea.

"Can you bring tea into the drawing room,
please?" Celia said.

"Yes, Miss Chambers." Lucy turned to go but
stopped. "Oh, I almost forgot. A man called today." Her gaze
flicked to me, so naturally I asked if the visitor were George.

"Or Mr. Hyde?" Celia asked. She was referring
to Theodore Hyde, a gentleman who'd been calling on me frequently
of late.

My face grew hot and I didn't dare look at
Jacob. He wanted me to encourage Theo's attentions, despite the
intense, unresolved feelings between himself and me. He wanted me
to live a full life until we met again in the Otherworld, but I was
still unsure of my feelings toward Theo. I liked him very much, but
did I love him enough to consider marrying him? Perhaps, in
time...

"Not Mr. Hyde or Mr. Culvert neither," Lucy
said. "It was a stranger." She bit on her plump bottom lip and her
gaze once more settled on me.

"Did he leave his name?" Celia asked.

"No, Miss Chambers."

"Did he state his business?" I said.

"No, Miss Emily. He said he'd return another
time."

"How odd." We had no more questions and Celia
dismissed Lucy. The maid bobbed a curtsy and bustled back to the
kitchen.

"It's the height of rudeness not to leave a
calling card," Celia muttered as she walked into the drawing room.
"The absolute height." She paused in the doorway and sighed at the
threadbare sofa before proceeding to it. We'd almost bought a new
one, but she had declared my ball gown more important. An
investment in my future, she'd called it. Most of the profits from
our séances had been used to pay for the dress.

"Jacob, please sit," I urged him when he
stood next to the fireplace, his customary position when he came to
visit. "Save your energy."

He looked like he would refuse, but then he
gave a single nod and collapsed into the nearby armchair as if his
legs could no longer hold him upright. Celia seemed to relax a
little as she always did when she knew precisely where he was in
the room. She must have seen the indentation he made in the
upholstery.

I touched his shoulder to
reassure myself that he was still solid enough for me to
feel
him. He was so
faint, so unlike himself, that I feared my hand would go straight
through him, as it would if I wasn't a medium. Luckily, I could
still feel him, but he was so cold.

My face must have shown my worry because he
said, "I'm all right, Em."

I grazed my knuckles along his jaw, down his
neck to the collar of his shirt.

Celia cleared her throat. "Tell us what's
happening up there. Our last two séances have not gone according to
plan and Emily said there's something wrong in the Waiting
Area."

He edged away from my hand, as if he couldn't
bear my touch.

"Come sit with me, Emily," Celia ordered.

I obeyed, backing away from Jacob without
taking my gaze off him. He kept his on me too and there was a
longing in their depths that punched through to my heart. I'd
missed the way he looked at me—like I was a balm for deep wounds. A
shiver of desire rippled across my skin, caressing me like a warm
breeze.

He looked away suddenly and stared into the
unlit grate. "The Waiting Area is in chaos."

"Chaos?" I echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Spirits are disappearing and not reappearing
and no one knows where they've gone. They simply...fade away into
nothingness. Few are able to come here at will anymore, and those
who can are unable to stay."

"We know." I told him what Madame Friage and
Lord Fulham had said.

"I am the strongest spirit," he said, "the
most...physical for want of a better word."

"You always were."

"Some would say I was an overachiever in life
and continue to be so in death."

It sounded silly, but it was no laughing
matter, particularly the part about when he was alive. From the
information we'd gathered, his murder was linked closely to the
type of person he'd been—somewhat self-absorbed and yes,
overachieving. His admission cut to the bone and the pain of it was
imprinted clear on his face.

"Everyone is afraid," he went on. "No one
seems to know what to do. So I've been sent by the Administrators
to ask for your help, Emily."

"Oh." I thought he'd come because he wanted
to see me. Or to say goodbye. I gulped back hot tears.

"What does he want?" Celia's brisk tone set
me on edge even more. She was extremely protective of me and
disliked having me exposed to danger. It usually led to a great
many lies on my part, something I disliked but found utterly
necessary if I were to get anything done. "You must tell me," she
said when I hesitated.

I told her what Jacob had said. "But what can
Emily do?" she said, her tone more subdued than I expected.

Jacob's presence flared for a moment then
dimmed alarmingly.

"Jacob!"

"I'm here," he said as he returned. He
sighed. "Tell your sister..." He shook his head. "I was about to
say, tell her not to worry. But I cannot lie to either of you. If
past events are any indication, there will be danger involved."

"Yes," I said quietly, "I'm sure there will
be." But there was no way I would tell Celia that in such plain
terms.

"I don't like it, Em," he said. "I don't like
asking this of you."

"But you have no choice," I finished for
him.

"There is always a choice." He lowered his
head into his hands and dragged his fingers through his dark hair.
"I could have chosen to do nothing while all those spirits in the
Waiting Area fade into non-existence."

"Including yourself."

He rubbed his hand across the back of his
neck and groaned. "Or I could ask you or Cara for help." He
laughed, low and bitter.

"Thank you," I whispered. "You made the right
decision." It would seem he thought as we did—that Cara was too
young to bear such a burden on her small shoulders—but I don't
think the decision was made lightly. Jacob had an aversion to
putting me in danger too.

"Then why do I feel so wretched?" He stood
suddenly and his presence solidified.

"Your anger suits you," I said, trying to
lighten the tone of our conversation.

"I'm not angry," he muttered, turning away
from me to stare into the fireplace.

"Emily," Celia said. "Tell me this instant
what is being discussed. I will not be ignored."

"Celia, ignoring you is an
impossibility."

She looked down at her skirts and made a show
of smoothing them.

"I'm sorry," I said, closing my hand over
hers. "I didn't mean to sound so horrid."

"I know. Now stop avoiding the topic and tell
me what Jacob said. I am on pins and needles."

"He said not to worry." I studiously kept my
gaze from wandering to Jacob as he turned to regard me, both brows
raised. I could not lie if he challenged me, even if he did so
silently. "He wants me to conduct some research in George's library
to find out why the spirits are disappearing. So it looks like
George and I will be afflicted with nothing more dangerous than
paper cuts."

She gave me a small smile of relief.
"Excellent. Research in the library. You and George are very good
at that."

"You, Emily Chambers, are devious." Jacob
shook his head and chuckled. My heart flooded. I wanted to see him
laugh more often. I suspected cheerfulness was his natural state,
or at least it had been when he was alive, but his death had
darkened his soul.

Being murdered can do that to a person.

Finding his murderer had been one of the few
things to keep me occupied in his absence these last two weeks, but
it had been a frustrating endeavor. Lady Preston had informed me
just prior to our séance earlier that the only boy named Frederick
in Jacob's year at Oxford to have died was a Frederick Seymour, and
that he had indeed killed himself. It merely confirmed what we'd
already learned and it left us no closer to discovering the truth
behind Jacob's murder. Jacob remembered his murderer blaming him
for Frederick's death, but how could he be responsible? They may
have fought, but Jacob hadn't killed him. Frederick had got up and
run away afterward. And Jacob could hardly be held responsible for
the suicide of someone he barely knew.

Discovering the truth had become as important
to me as discovering the identity of my own father. He and his
family needed closure, to move on. Once we found his killer, we
would find Jacob's body. Lord and Lady Preston would be able to
finally bury their son and see justice served. I suspected it would
also allow Jacob's spirit to crossover and be at peace. It's what I
wanted second most in all the world. Foremost, I wanted to be with
him...someday.

Although it seemed crossing
over to the Otherworld was looking increasingly doubtful for
all
ghosts, not just
Jacob.

"I think you need to tell me more," I said to
him. "So that George and I know what to look for," I added for
Celia's benefit.

"And that nice Mr. Hyde too," she said. "I'm
sure he'll enjoy researching alongside you both in the library.

Jacob stiffened and stared hard at the
fireplace.

"Theo is very busy," I
said. "He has his legal studies and is working in a law office
three afternoons a week." Theo might be a gentleman, but he was as
poor as me. Well, perhaps not quite
that
poor, but he wasn't well-to-do
like his rich and titled relatives. He needed to work for a living.
Celia thought a lawyer was a decidedly good prospect for me, and I
had to agree that a girl in my position couldn't hope for
better.

"That may be so," she said, "but he seems to
find the time to visit us often." The triumphant lift of her chin
was most certainly for Jacob's benefit. She didn't dislike him. She
just didn't think he was a good influence on me. Looking at it from
her perspective, I could see why. Being in love with a ghost was
not something I would wish on anyone. Our future together depended
upon my death.

But I had no choice in the matter. The heart
will feel what the heart will feel.

"Go on, Jacob," I urged him. "Tell me what to
look for."

He collapsed into the armchair once again.
"The Administrators believe the Waiting Area is being
sabotaged."

"Sabotaged! By whom?"

"And why?" asked Celia.

"And how?"

"I cannot tell you how," he said. "The
Administrators haven't discovered the method. They've been too busy
trying to keep the weakest spirits within the Waiting Area. As to
the whom and the why..." His exhausted gaze locked with mine. "We
think it's the same person who brought the demon to this realm and
summoned the spirit of Mortlock." Mortlock was the vicious ghost
who'd possessed Adelaide and then George.

"Your killer," I said on a breath.

Jacob nodded. "He was trying to hurt me
through you and my family, but I think he has a new tactic—destroy
me directly. I can't pretend I'm not glad," he said quietly. "All I
ever wanted was for my loved ones to be safe."

My insides melted. To be classed alongside
his family was an honor. To be called a loved one was a dream come
true. "Perhaps he somehow knows you haven't been here and thought
you no longer cared for me."

"Or perhaps he saw Hyde
visiting frequently and decided
you
no longer cared for
me
." His voice was dark but gave no
indication of what he thought of the matter. Considering he was the
one pushing me in Theo's direction, I would think he was happy with
this unexpected benefit.

"Your scenario does seem more likely since he
cannot see you," I said.

"His murderer is doing this?" Celia frowned.
I could see she was trying very hard to keep up with the
conversation despite only hearing half of it. "It does seem likely
after all the trouble he's caused so far."

"Or she," I said. "The murderer may be a
woman."

"True. Whomever it is, they have a great deal
of knowledge about the supernatural."

"Someone from the Society for Supernatural
Activity perhaps."

"You're thinking of Price?" He shook his
head. "I'm not sure if anyone in the Society is that knowledgeable.
They're mostly a group of men and women with an interest in demons,
ghosts, and inexplicable phenomena. The knowledge required to do
this is obscure and beyond a little dabbling in the
supernatural."

"Price might have gained that knowledge from
another source."

"So might anyone else."

"Not that you are going to confront this Mr.
Price," Celia said. "I absolutely forbid you to go anywhere near
him. Do you understand me, Emily?"

"Of course," I said. "I wouldn't do anything
so stupid."

Celia huffed.