Possession (15 page)

I could see
George and Theo straining not to ask more questions lest it interfere with my
story. Jacob knew what cut I was talking about, of course. "Did you have
to bring that up here and now?" he said on a sigh. "You know he'll
need to see it."

"I don't
see no cuts on you, miss," the inspector said.

"It's on my
thigh."

George gave a
strangled gargle. Theo and the inspector reddened.

"Shall we
step behind the partition so I can show you?"

The inspector stretched
his neck as if the collar was tightening. He nodded quickly and a shaky hand
directed me to go first. It was as if
I
were intimidating
him
,
not the other way round.

"I do
protest, Emily," George said, frowning.

"It's all
right." I moved around to the other side of the partition and the
inspector followed. I twirled my finger at George, Theo, and the other
policeman at the desk. They dutifully turned their backs. Jacob remained near
the counter, his arms crossed and eyes hooded. He didn't look away.

I lifted my
skirt and petticoat and unwrapped the bandage above the garter. The cut had
begun healing but was still red and puckered. Jacob stood beside the inspector
who bent over to inspect the wound.

"He's too
close," Jacob said. "Tell him to back away."

Arnold
straightened. "Well, Miss..."

"Miss
Chambers," I reminded him.

"Well, Miss
Chambers, if you can vouch that the blood on Mr. Arbuthnot's hands is your
blood and that the cut was done accidentally, I suppose I must release
him."

I felt my entire
body sigh with relief. "I can."

He nodded and
reached out to remove a heavy key hanging from a hook on the wall. "Wait
here."

A few minutes
later he returned with Wallace Arbuthnot. My first instinct was to clutch Wallace's
hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, but then I remembered it wasn't him in
there, but Mortlock. He blinked at us in recognition.

"Cousin,"
Theo said, nodding once. "Your mother will be pleased to have you
home."

Mortlock's lip
curled. He glanced at the door and rubbed his palms down his stained trousers.

"He's going
to run," Jacob said. He disappeared and reappeared at the door.

"You look
tired, Mr. Arbuthnot," I said quickly. "Perhaps George and Theo can
assist you to the coach."

Both men
understood my meaning and grabbed Wallace's arms. He gave a harsh laugh but
didn't struggle. Mortlock knew his only way out of jail was to go along with
us.

Theo and George
marched him out of the police station and into the waiting coach. Jacob and I
followed but he held me back before I climbed in.

"There's no
room for me," he said. "Call immediately if Mortlock so much as
breathes on you. Do you remember the words to send him back?"

I nodded.

"Good. Do
it straight away." And then he was gone.

A footman
assisted me into the coach and I sat beside George. Theo still held onto his
cousin's arm, but Wallace's eyes were closed, his body slumped so that his
knees touched mine. He looked to be asleep. Perhaps he was still drunk.

"
Return,
Spirit, to your rightful place
," I chanted.

Wallace stirred,
making obscene snuffling noises through his nose.

I focused on the
words of the incantation. "
Return to the—
"

His eyes
suddenly opened, and I jumped in alarm. "Miss Chambers?" He sounded
different, normal, like Wallace Arbuthnot should sound.

I leaned
forward. "Mr. Arbuthnot? How do you feel?"

He sat up and
rubbed his eyes. "My head hurts like the devil."

That's because
the devil had been inside it. I glanced at Theo. He smiled, sheer relief
imprinted in every feature. I smiled back. Mortlock was gone.

"Wallace?"
Theo said. "Are you well, Cousin?"

Wallace cupped
his hands over his mouth and drew in a deep breath. He coughed. "Good
lord." He screwed up his nose and drew his hands away. "Is
that...blood?" His soft face paled.

"It's all
right," I said gently. "Do you remember anything of the past day or
two?"

He shook his
head and looked down at his clothes. "Bloody hell! Look at the state of
me! Where have I been?" He turned to his cousin. "Theo?"

"Painting,"
Theo said quickly. "Isn't that right, Mr. Culvert?"

"Culvert?"
Wallace echoed. He frowned at George. George nodded once. "Miss Chambers,
what are you doing here? And why have I been painting? I don't remember
anything."

"You've
been ill," I said. "You need rest. You've been wandering around the
city and we've been looking for you. But you're better now and we'll take you
home. It's likely you won't ever recall anything of the past two days."

He nodded dully.
"Right. Painting." He stared at his hands and I suspected he didn't
believe us but was too afraid to probe further lest he discover an unpalatable
truth. "How extraordinary."

Beside me,
George grunted. He removed his glasses, put them on again, removed them once
more then returned them to his face. He looked at Theo and Wallace and laughed.

"Something
funny, George?" I asked.

He said nothing
and turned his shoulder to me and stared out the window. Wallace closed his
eyes and appeared to fall asleep.

Theo watched me.
It was disconcerting at first. I tried not to touch my hair to see if it was out
of place. Then he smiled and I couldn't help but return it.

The coach pulled
to a stop at the Arbuthnots' Kensington residence and Wallace woke up with a
snort and splutter. For a brief moment I thought Mortlock had returned, but
then he seemed to remember where he was and the gentlemanly manner returned.

"Goodbye,
Miss Chambers." He gave me a self-conscious smile and ran his hands over
his wayward tufts of hair. No doubt he felt strange without a hat.

"Will you
visit us tomorrow?" Theo asked me. "To discuss the Jacob Beaufort
matter, as you originally planned," he added.

"If your
cousin is feeling better," I said. Tomorrow would be good. The sooner we
could pick up the trail to Jacob's killer, the better. He needed to move on. I
might not want him to and I might not like the thought of him leaving me, but I
could sense it whenever he was near. For whatever reason, he needed to leave
this realm.

Theo clasped my
hand and kissed it. "Until then. Emily." He kissed it again then
climbed out of the coach after his cousin.

George banged
the roof and the coach rolled forward. "Home!" he shouted.

I stared at my
hand where Theo had kissed it. I didn't know what to think. He was sweet and kind,
the perfect gentleman. I liked him. But that was all. Just like. It wasn't the
same as how I felt about Jacob. I sighed and closed my eyes. I felt so tired. All
I wanted to do was return home and find something to eat then while away the
rest of the day in the parlor with my sister. Beside me, I could feel George
shift on the seat.

"Why do you
think Mortlock didn't transfer into one of the policemen when he had the
chance?" I asked George. "He could have been free then."

George chuckled,
a low sound coming from the depths of his throat. "Too drunk. That fat sod
couldn't handle his ale. Useless slab of lard."

I opened my eyes
and frowned at him. And then my heart tripped over itself.
No. Dear God, no
.

George pushed
his glasses up his nose and turned to face me. His lips twisted into a grin
that held no humor, no friendship. All evil.

I screamed.

He lunged.

CHAPTER 9

George, or
rather Mortlock, leaned over me, his knees on the seat straddling my thighs. Close.
So disgustingly close. I tried to wriggle away, beat him off, but he pinned my shoulders
against the seatback and I couldn't move my arms, not with any effectiveness.

He licked my
neck. I gagged and twisted my head from side to side. If he kissed me on the
mouth, I might throw up.

He pressed
himself against me, smothering my face in his jacket.

Air. I needed
air. Couldn't breathe. I had to get away, get him off. I felt dizzy. My chest
hurt. My throat closed up.

Fighting panic,
I did the only thing I could think of—I jerked my knee up into his groin.

He sucked in air
between this teeth and let it out in a small, high-pitched whine. He didn't let
go but his body slackened just enough for me to use my arms again. I shoved his
chest as hard as I could and he stumbled backwards onto the opposite seat.

He clutched his
chest and grunted.

I thought fast. I
could call Jacob, but there was nothing he could do. There were no weapons in
the cabin and his fists were useless against George. I could shout at the
driver and footmen, but they probably wouldn't pummel their master no matter
what I said. So I did the only thing in my power to do.

I chanted the incantation
to return Mortlock. "
Return, Spirit, to your rightful place
."

His eyes
widened. "Stop!"

"
Return
to the Otherworld where you belong. Return—
"

"Shut
it!" He half-stood, hunched beneath the low roof.

And then he hit
me.

Burning pain
spread like fire across my jaw and cheek. I toppled into the corner and tucked
my legs up, making myself as small as possible, bracing myself for the next
blow.

It didn't come. He
opened the door and jumped out of the moving coach. The door banged shut behind
him. I gasped and scrambled to the window to see if he was injured, only to be
thrown back when the driver pulled hard on the reins.

"Whoa,"
he said to the horses.

The coach rocked
as the footmen jumped down. I heard them call after George, questioning but
polite. A moment later, one of them opened the door.

"Miss
Chambers?" He hesitated but his curiosity must have got the better of him.
"Why did Mr. Culvert leave in such a hurry?"

I covered my jaw
with my hand. I couldn't feel the soft kid leather of my glove through the riot
of pain. "He...was in a hurry." Pathetic, but I could think of no clever
explanation. My mind had gone numb. "Take me home, please."

"Very well,
miss." He picked my bonnet up off the floor where it must have fallen when
Mortlock hit me and held it out. I took it and placed it on the seat beside me.
He shut the door. If he didn't believe my explanation, he didn't show it.

I closed my eyes
and blew out a breath. Jacob would have to be told. He would have to repeat his
searches all over again, this time for George. I wanted to wait until I got
home and checked the damage to my face in a mirror, but that would waste
valuable time. He needed to know now so he could start immediately.

Well, this would
be an interesting little interlude. Not that I could be completely sure of Jacob's
reaction to anything involving me lately. The messages I received from him were
decidedly mixed.

I tried various
ways of covering my jaw with my hand and settled on a thoughtful pose with one
arm crossed over my stomach and the other elbow resting on it. With my fingers
lightly touching my cheek, I think I looked nonchalant, relaxed. I felt
anything but.

"Jacob? Jacob,
can you come, please?"

He appeared on
the seat opposite just as the coach moved forward. "Why are you
alone?"

"Theo and
Wallace have returned to the Arbuthnot residence, and George has...left." I
paused. There was no easy way to say it. "Mortlock is now possessing him."

If he was
capable of going white, he would have at that moment. He groaned and rubbed his
hands through his hair and dragged them down his face. "You'd better tell
me everything."

I did. Almost. I
told him how we thought Mortlock had returned to the Waiting Area of his own
volition but had soon discovered he was inside George.

"Wait,"
he said. "I'm confused about the timing. Did you notice the switch
straight away, while Theo and Wallace were still here?" He held his hands
out, palms up, questioning. "If so, why didn't you call me immediately
instead of waiting until after you took them home? And at what point did
Mortlock jump out of the coach?"

"Er..."

His eyes
narrowed and he gave me that familiar piercing gaze that made it feel like he
could read my mind. Getting answers that way might have been quicker than
waiting for me to give them. I didn't know what to say and his increasingly
dark glare put me on edge.

"I, uh,
well, we were sitting here, talking. Um, no that's not right. I think..."

"Emily."
His soft voice, so at odds to his fierce demeanor, silenced me. It didn't stop
my body from shaking.