“Protection. Best incised with a silver knife. Envision safety.”
Immanuel looked down the hall at the pair of shoes sitting beside the front door. With his brain addled with fatigue and running high with latent fear, he couldn’t stop himself from picking a knife from the kitchen drawer and carving the symbol into the sole. As he followed the path his ancestors left, he pictured Adam passing house after house and making it inside. The edges of the symbol were sharp and undulant, but if he couldn’t be there at all times, he had to ensure that nothing bad would happen to Adam. If he had the opportunity, he would cut the sigil into Adam’s flesh to make certain he would never be vulnerable. Adam was his one source of stability, and the thought of losing him…
Setting Adam’s shoes back in their place, he released a choked yawn and quietly crept up the stairs.
Chapter Eleven
Dark Things
Emmeline stood outside the Eidolon Club. Her dark eyes ran over the brick Grecian columns and intricate ornaments above the windows. She never would have expected anything called the Eidolon Club to be in Chelsea. Its members must have deep pockets, she thought as she knocked on the door. After knocking twice with no answer, she checked the card Lord Hale had given her against the house numbers. She was in the right place. Maybe it didn’t open until nightfall, but if that was true, she would need to find a better excuse to tell her aunt other than having tea with Cassandra Ashwood.
“So you found it!”
Turning, she found Lord Hale ambling up the pavement with a smile that flooded her core with a creeping heat. “It wasn’t difficult, but it doesn’t appear to be open. No one let me in.”
As he reached her side, his gaze flitted over her form as he offered his arm. “That’s because it doesn’t know you yet. Only members can get in unescorted.”
With a rapid knock, the door opened and Cecil gave her a knowing look. Emmeline’s eyes widened as she stepped inside. The Eidolon Club was exactly how she had pictured the London Spiritualist Society before she arrived. While the Spiritualist Society reflected its middle class clientele with a multitude of photographs and paintings on every wall and furniture in garish patterns that matched the rugs and drapes, the Eidolon Club quietly spoke of wealth. The wood of the paneling and bannisters overhead had been polished to a lustrous sheen and the rooms had been laid out to heighten the open space. Everything was of the finest quality from the heavy curtains to the oil paintings by known artists hanging from the picture rail. Emmeline released a contented sigh. It reminded her of home. Closing her eyes to relish the familiarity, a buzz of electricity passed up her feet and through her body.
“Lord Hale, Miss Jardine, what a pleasure to see you,” a woman’s voice called from the next room.
Emmeline opened her eyes in time to see a bronze-haired woman emerge from the shadows. Lord Hale’s arm stiffened in her grasp as the woman grew closer. She wore a gown out of a Parisian fashion plate. The dark red gown was overlaid with an intricate web of lace and had an Elizabethan collar that accentuated her long, sun-kissed neck and sensuous mouth, yet her eyes betrayed her youthful appearance. As Emmeline met her gaze, her body grew heavy and the weight of centuries pressed upon her. With a blink, the curious sensation dissipated.
Clearing his throat, Lord Hale began tightly, “Miss Jardine, this is Lady—”
“You may call me Claudia,” she said as she grasped Emmeline’s hand and gave it a gentle pat. “Why start with formalities when I’m certain we will be fast friends? I can already sense that you have far more to offer than one would expect. Do you mind if I call you Emmeline?”
Shaking off her stunned muteness, Emmeline replied, “No, I would like that very much. Your house is lovely.”
“Oh, it isn’t mine. It belongs to the society, which belongs to no one.” Lady Rose gestured to the room she had come from. “Would you care for some tea? We have much to discuss.”
Without waiting for a response, Claudia Rose led them into the parlor where tea and tidy sandwiches had been set on a table near the fireplace. As Lord Hale stiffly sat in the chair furthest from their host, Emmeline resisted the urge to study the tempest above the hearth. From the corner of her eye, the waves rolled in and the shattered ship sank, but when she finally turned, she found the painting remarkably still.
“You must know that a young woman with your gifts would be a great asset to our cause.”
Emmeline settled into the armchair across from Claudia, turning slightly to avoid seeing the strange painting. “And that is?”
“To bring magic to the forefront, of course. To have the freedom afforded to those without extranormal gifts.” Pouring the tea, a sharp smile crossed her lips. “You’re so lucky to be a medium. You already have Her Majesty’s blessing to perform in public. The rest of us… Well, we still have prejudices to overcome.”
When Emmeline took the proffered teacup and stared at her with furrowed brows, Lady Rose continued, “Practioners, people with special abilities, were plentiful before Christianity reached the British Isles. They were oracles or served the gods as priests, but once Christianity became the norm, they were forced into hiding unless they wanted to face persecution. It seems ironic with Christ having extranormal abilities of his own, but that is human kind’s nature, punish the outsider. You have certainly heard of witches being tortured or killed during the Inquisition and the Salem Witch Trials. It has been going on for centuries and continues to this very day, though not nearly as violently.”
“How?”
“Well, between moral rigidity and the treatment of the fairer sex, it’s surprising anyone discovers they have extranormal abilities at all. Society dictates you stay within the norm. The poor can’t afford to be strange, and the middle class has no imagination. Only people like us have the imagination and civility to handle such a responsibility. Still, women are told it will have ill effects and men are led to believe it’s unmanly. It’s no wonder you don’t see many practioners.”
Emmeline stared into the blackness of her tea waiting for clarity. As the head of the Oxford Spiritualist Society, her mother had turned away dozens of frauds over the years and had warned her daughter against trusting those who claim to have powers, yet there had been strange things in Emmeline’s life, namely a young man she shared a soul with.
“I don’t mean to be rude, Claudia, but how do I know you aren’t lying? I have never seen someone with abilities outside my own and my mother’s.”
A throaty chuckle escaped her lips as she put her tea on the table and shook her head. “My dear, no one could fault you for wanting proof. If you will allow me.”
Claudia Rose drew in a deep breath and focused her eyes on a spot behind Emmeline’s head. Emmeline stared ahead, refusing to move for fear of what she might see. The cups bounced in their saucers as the room rocked. The electric chandelier and the globes flanking the fireplace jangled in their sockets. Their filaments blinked, then glowed white hot until Emmeline had to shut her eyes against the burning in her retinas. Gripping the arms of the chair, Emmeline braced herself against the force of Lady Rose’s energy. She turned her face and squirmed away from it, unable to pull herself from her seat. Just when she thought her throat would shut against the pressure, the energy burst like a bulb and trickled into the aether.
Emmeline panted as she opened her eyes, clutching her heart and running a hand over her clammy cheeks. Lady Rose watched her with her head cocked, her gaze probing her beneath the concern. When Emmeline finally faced Lord Hale, she had expected him to be as affected as she was, but he merely glared at Claudia from his chair, his fingers tightly wound around his teacup. Emmeline blinked until her mind could form coherent thoughts. This was no spirit thumping or table lifting. What Lady Rose had conjured was different. It had a palpable presence, a foreboding suck of energy like the silence before an explosion.
The only sounds left were her ragged breath and the teacup tinkling against its saucer. The words slipped from her lips in a breathless gas
p. “I believe you.”
“And I believe you can speak to the dead, among other things,” Lady Rose replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Your mother was a medium as well, wasn’t she?”
Emmeline nodded as she brought the cup to her lips, thankful for its reassuring warmth.
“What did she believe regarding your abilities?”
“She thought it was a gift,” she said softly, her throat still tight. “That we had a special connection to the afterlife, and that it came from god.”
A faint smirk crossed Lady Rose’s lips. “Did she give you any rules?”
“Of course. If I don’t keep my guard up, I can see spirits everywhere, so she would tell me to keep it up to avoid troublesome spirits. Mama said to always make sure I wanted to give a reading, and that I needed to give myself and the spirits permission before speaking to them.” Emmeline released a nervous chuckle. “Avoid charlatans. Don’t dabble in dark things.”
Lady Rose leaned closer, her green eyes glinting with interest. “Dark things? What sort of dark things?”
Cecil clenched his jaw so hard that the veins of his neck rose against his skin but said nothing.
Looking from Lord Hale’s tense features to Claudia’s feline intensity, Emmeline felt as if she had stumbled into a past argument.
“The usual dark things, I suppose. Things humans ought not to be meddling with. Malicious spirits, faerie places, things that aren’t human.”
Lady Rose sat thoughtfully for a long moment. Adding another lump of sugar to her tea, she stirred it until it became a whirlpool. From her chair, Emmeline watched the rhythmic tide of particles rush by.
“Did you know Emmeline that the Eidolon Club has been studying how abilities like your own work?” Claudia asked, keeping her voice low and level and her eyes locked on the dark pool growing in her cup. “In remote places all over the world, there are people like you who can speak to the dead or what your mother may have considered dark things. These people are revered and feared for being able to see beyond the veil of what we call reality. That’s what it is, you know, the ability to see past our limited field of vision. Like catching a spider’s web in the light, you can only see the spiritual world from the right angle. Right now, you’re choosing to only see things in a certain light, but what if you expand your abilities? Shamans, witchdoctors, the oracles of old, they all looked further and discovered more than they ever thought possible. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to do all that you can to fully use what your mother passed on to you? Don’t you want to be somewhere where you can grow instead of being used as a tool to please others?”
“I do.” Emmeline’s owl eyes widened at her unexpected response. The words slipped out before she even knew the answer.
A wide grin spread across Claudia’s face. “See, I knew we would be fast friends. We can help you here. If you choose to stay with us, there will be a library at your disposal as well as experienced practioners who can guide you as you discover the full range of your Orphean powers. You will be safe here. No one will limit you.” She drew in a breath, her eyes darkening, trailing off to an unseen time as she said, “No member of the Eidolon Club will ever threaten you with harm for pushing the boundaries. What do you think, Emmeline?”
Emmeline licked her lips and stared into the empty hearth. “I’m already part of the Spiritualist Society and have been my whole life. What you’re suggesting would mean me leaving?”
“It would be difficult to balance both, yes, but we would let you ween off of it. Your leaving would raise suspicion, and we don’t want them banging down our door, do we? We prefer to curate our members.” Leaning forward, Lady Rose placed her hand over Emmeline’s and held her gaze. “My dear, since Cecil told me about your extraordinary abilities, I have wanted nothing more than to take you under my wing and nurture your gifts. You have so much potential and no one to guide you anymore. You remind me of myself at your age, and I wish I had someone to teach me about the world back then.”
Pulling a chained watch from the pleat of her gown, Lady Rose checked the time and stood. “Emmeline, I must leave you as I need to attend to a man who is very unwell. I trust Cecil will escort you home. I do hope we will be seeing you against soon on a more official basis.”
As Claudia flashed a final sharp smile and disappeared into the hall, Emmeline released a tense breath, her eyes trailing to the plate of untouched treats and her cold tea. Time had passed in a whirlwind, but when she struggled to read the mantle clock, she realized the hands weren’t moving. Turning to Lord Hale, Emmeline put on a tight smile to counter his somber brows.
“That was interesting. Certainly not how I expected to spend my afternoon.”
“No, but do you think you will join?” he asked, rising in time with Emmeline.
“It’s tempting.”
As Emmeline took a step forward, her drained legs gave out. Before she could hit the rug, Lord Hale’s arms were around her, pulling her against his chest. She looked into his hazel eyes, watching them soften for the first time since they arrived, but something lurked behind them. Was it fear she glimpsed? As soon as it appeared, it was replaced by something warmer, richer. Something that aroused a part of her she secretly fed books she wouldn’t dare let her aunt see. His eyes dipped to her mouth, and before she could pull away, his mouth was upon hers. Her body tensed as he tightened his arms around her, his lips working in time with hers. The tip of his tongue grazed her lip, but by the time she returned the advance, he was drawing back. For a moment, they lingered. Emmeline hung in his arms, half fallen, watching him wait for her reaction.
“We shouldn’t,” she whispered, the words rough against his reddened lips.
“But why? I care very deeply about you, Miss Jardine. I don’t think I should like this to end.”
“Me neither.” The smile dropped from her lips as he lifted her to her feet. Dropping her voice, she leaned close to his ear. “Do you trust Claudia?”
He stared ahead, his mouth pensively straight. After a moment, he said, “I trust her with my life.”
***
Lady Rose swept through the catacomb below the Eidolon Club, her heels echoing across the ancient cobbles as her skirts dragged through cobwebs and the remains of things long forgotten. At the end of the dank corridor stood a locked iron door, a remnant of the club’s dark past. Wrapped around her waist a chain with a ring of keys clanked with each step. Some still hummed with energy left decades ago by other practioners and unlocked things far worse than what lay within the simple cell. As she found the key she sought, Claudia Rose paused, her eyes lingering on the dented metal door. She had to brace herself for what awaited her on the other side.
The last time she had seen Alastair alive, she had been dragged kicking and screaming into a waiting steamer by men from a hospital for the insane, and it had all been his doing. She hated him then with a venom that could have poison all of London, but the years had softened her. There were times she missed. Good times, while seldom, were all she dreamed of when she had pledged to spend her life with him. Shared glances, nights of passion, a mutual admiration that bordered on obsession. Now, seeing him degenerate into a vengeful spirit with no thoughts but one made her long for the man she once had. She put the key in the lock, drawing up her guard to drown out her emotions. Despite it all, she did what she could to make things better for him.
The door opened with a whine followed by the rattling clink of chains dragging across the floor. Sitting against the back wall, Alastair stared at her, the malice and charm still evident even on another’s face. He rolled his shoulders and stood, towering over her. For a long moment, they merely regarded one another.
“Take them off,” he replied hoarsely.
While the voice was not his own, the words were. No matter what body he inhabited, it was always his. He dominated it as he did all other aspects of his life.
“In due time. How do you like your new temporary home? Is it more to your liking than th
e last one? I tried to find someone closer to your physique.”
“Of course not. You pick off some trash from Whitechapel and expect me to be pleased. Couldn’t you have killed someone with at least a little class?”
A wave of power bubbled up Lady Rose’s arm as she fought the urge to lash out at him. His body was senseless to physical blows, but one strike of her power would be enough to shove his spirit out. She had worked far too hard on the ritual to waste it.
“Sorry, darling, but you aren’t worth hanging for.” When he merely glared at her, she continued, “That is what I came to speak with you about. I would like to make a deal with you.”
His dead eyes pierced through her. “I’m not in the habit of making deals with women.”
“You do when it will get you what you want. I know what you offered to do for Her Majesty after my father died. You’ll do anything to get what you desire if you want it badly enough.”
“What do you want, Claudia? Is this revenge for what I did? You know you deserved it. You weren’t fulfilling your wifely duties and you had to be punished.”
Energy surged around her, jangling the keys at her hip. “Revenge would be leaving you to tear yourself apart as a spirit. That’s what vengeful spirits do, you know. Instead, I give you a body and a mind where you can think straight for a change and you thank me with insolence.”
“What’s your deal?” he growled as he looked away.
“It’s simple. Help me bring the god into this world, and I will get you a permanent body, a good one.”
Dead Magic Page 10