The Medium (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #1) (4 page)

"What is
it? What does a shape-shifting demon do?"

"When it
first emerges into this world it holds no shape. Its first instinct is survival,
safety, until it can gather its strength. Once it has, it takes on the form of
someone or something else almost perfectly." He paused and his lips formed
a grim line. "And then it needs to satisfy its hunger."

From the way he
couldn't meet my gaze, I suspected that hunger wouldn't be satisfied by buying
fish from the markets. It would eat whatever it could kill. Rats, dogs. People.

I cleared my
throat. "It was summoned quite by accident. I didn't mean to do it." Celia
had better thank me later for taking the blame. It was entirely her fault that
we'd released a demon with that new amulet. Not that I would tell Jacob. She
was the only family member I had left and although we didn't always see eye to
eye, we were all the other had and I wouldn't toss her into the lion's den, so
to speak, even if the lion appeared relatively tame. I needed to find out more
about Jacob and what the Administrators would extract for her folly first. I
was better equipped than Celia to cope with the supernatural.

"Tell me
how it happened," he said, sitting beside me on the sofa, not at the other
end but close so that I could touch him if I moved a little to the right. I
felt very alert and aware of him, but I could not meet that gaze. "I want
to know exactly what was said, how it was said, and what object was used to
summon it."

I stood,
reluctantly, and fetched the amulet from Celia's bag. When I sat down again, I
made sure I was sitting exactly where I had before, not an inch further away. I
wanted to sit closer but I didn't dare even though Celia would never know
because she couldn't see him.

"A peddler
gave it to my sister."

"Gave it? She
didn't buy it?"

"Apparently
not."

He ran his thumb
over the amulet's points.

"The woman said
to repeat an incantation three times if we ever needed to solve something."

His hand
stilled. "What was it?"

"We
couldn't understand the words."

"But you
repeated it nevertheless?"

I chewed the
inside of my lower lip and shrugged one shoulder.

"Bloody
hell, Emily, do you know what you've done?" He stood and paced across the
rug to the hearth and back. He completed the short distance in two strides. "Shape-shifting
demons are dangerous. They roam at night, searching for food. And I'm not
referring to the pies and boiled potatoes variety. I mean living flesh and
blood."

I gulped down
the bile rising up my throat. "Oh God," I whispered. I pressed a hand
to my stomach to settle it, but to no avail. It continued roiling beneath my corset.
What had we done?

He suddenly
stopped pacing and blinked at me. "Sorry," he said softly, "I
shouldn't have gone into detail." He crouched in front of me and went to
touch my hands, still holding my stomach, but drew back before making contact. "Are
you all right? You've gone pale."

"That's
quite a feat considering my skin tone," I said, attempting to smile. I
reached out to press his arm in reassurance but he stood suddenly. All the
softness in his eyes vanished and I bristled in response to the coldness in
them. Obviously physical contact was not something he wanted.

I wondered when
he'd last touched a live person. Unless he'd stumbled across someone else who
could see spirits—and therefore touch him—it would have been before he died.

"If that
incantation is what released the demon," I said, "then it's not a
very fool proof system your Administrators have to keep them in check." I
couldn't help the sarcasm dripping off the words like rain drops off leaves. His
sudden changes of mood had me confused and bothered which in turn threw up my
own defenses. I couldn't tell if he was friend or foe yet.

"I think we've
already demonstrated that," he said.

I shot him a
withering look. "They ought to have better mechanisms for controlling
their demons."

"It's not
just a matter of repeating the incantation. It must be done when the portals
between this world and the Waiting Area are opened as they are during your
séances." He held up the amulet. "And while touching a cursed object."

"Cursed? Someone
has
cursed
that?"

He nodded.

"It really
shouldn't have been given away then."

"Very
observant of you."

Another
withering look would have been excessive but I gave him one anyway.

He shot me a
small smile in return which I found most disconcerting. But then the smile
vanished and he was all seriousness again. "The amulet acts as a talisman,"
he said, "linking the wearer to the demon."

He dangled the
amulet from its leather strap and dropped it into my palm. "We need to
find the person who gave it to your sister. When does the peddler return?"

"Not until
Thursday."

He rubbed his hand
over his chin. "Damnation." He glanced at me and bowed his head. "Sorry
for my language, it was inappropriate." Despite the bow, he didn't seem
sorry at all. There wasn't a hint of regret on his face, just that smile again,
as if he was amused at shocking me. Not that I was shocked. I'd heard worse at
the markets.

"But you
must understand," he went on, "that we need to locate this peddler as
soon as possible."

"We
need to?"

"You
are the one who released the demon so it's only fair you bear some
of the responsibility for returning it."

I bristled and
bit the inside of my lip to stop myself telling him what had really happened. Celia
had better appreciate my covering for her.

My sister took
that moment to enter the drawing room and promptly sat on the sofa and poured
herself a cup of tea. She seemed completely oblivious to the tension in the
room, even though it was so dense I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"Is the
ghost gone?" she asked me.

"No."

"Well Bella
is. Packed her bags and almost ran out the door. I couldn't get a sensible word
out of her." She lifted her teacup to her lips then lowered it without
taking a sip. "I'd no idea she was such a flighty girl. The next one should
have a sturdier constitution. Have you still got a copy of the last
advertisement we used, Em? No need to write it all out again."

"Jacob
suggested we try a school in Clerkenwell. The children learn the art of
domestic service there."

Celia scoffed
into her teacup. "Hardly an art, my dear, if Bella's efforts at cooking
were anything to go by. Very well, I shall go in the morning." She nodded
at the framed daguerreotype of her father now back on the mantelpiece. "I
see you've put the portrait of Father down." Her voice rose a little, the
way it always did when she spoke directly to a spirit. As if it was hard of
hearing. Not that she spoke to them very often. She usually left that part of
the séance to me. It's why I was the one who received the strange looks from
the guests. That way Celia managed to avoid the worst of the Freak label. "Do
you mind very much picking it up again so I can see where you are?" she
asked him.

Jacob crossed
his arms over his chest. "Rather demanding, isn't she?"

I took two steps
toward him, bringing me within arm's distance. "You may be ethereal but
you are still a guest in our home, Mr. Beaufort, and I would suggest you behave
as a gentleman would and do as my sister requests." His eyes grew wider
with every word. I squared up to him, and although I was much shorter than he,
I felt like I had the upper hand in the exchange. "Or have you forgotten
how a gentleman should behave?"

He couldn't have
stiffened any more if someone had dripped ice cold water down his spine.

"It is only
polite after all to allow Celia to know your general location," I went on,
"since you have the advantage of being able to see her."

He lowered his arms
to his sides and nodded once. "Point taken." He edged around the
furniture to the mantelpiece and picked up the other portrait this time, the
one of Mama. "Lucky I'm a ghost or those barbs would have really hurt,"
he said to the daguerreotype.

My irritation
flowed out of me at his absurd sense of humor. I controlled my smile as best I
could however. It would have undermined my argument.

"I see you
two have become further acquainted with each other during my absence,"
Celia said, eyeing me carefully. She forked one brow and I shook my head. I was
in no danger from Jacob. He needed me to find the amulet peddler. And the
demon. "Have you discovered what he means by being assigned to you?" she
went on.

I explained
about the demon we released, emphasizing the
we
and winking at her as I
did so. Now that I had let Jacob think I'd been as guilty as Celia, I didn't
want him to know I had deliberately misled him. It felt dishonorable somehow.

Apparently Celia
didn't agree with me. "No," she said and placed her teacup and saucer
carefully on the table. "I cannot let you take the blame, Em. I was the
one who bought the amulet and it was I who invoked the demon. It was nothing to
do with Emily," she said to Jacob.

He lowered the
picture frame and regarded me levelly. "Very noble of you," he
muttered. "And now I suppose I owe you an apology."

"Don’t
trouble yourself," I said more curtly than I intended.

He winced then bowed.
"I've behaved despicably, both as a gentleman and as a guest." He
spoke quietly and his mouth softened, no longer forming a grim line. "I
hope you can forgive me." As apologies went, it seemed genuine. "I
would ask the Administrators to assign someone else to you but there is no one
else."

"Isn't the
Waiting Area filled with thousands of ghosts? That's what several of them had
told me and I'd never had any reason to doubt them.

"There is,
but few are like me."

"You mean
solid, or at least have the appearance of it?"

He nodded. "Without
the solidness as you call it, I couldn't follow you wherever you go. Most spirits
are limited to a specific location, as you know. I can go anywhere I please."

"Fascinating."
I cast my eye over him again. He certainly looked nothing like the other ghosts
with their fuzzy centers and fading edges. Indeed he looked healthy, full of
life. And so handsome it was all I could do to stop myself from reaching out
and caressing the skin at his throat. It would be smooth and butter-soft, I
guessed, but cool. I'd only ever touched a ghost once before and she'd been
cool despite it being a warm day.

"Really,
Emily," Celia scolded.

I snatched my
attention away from Jacob but tried my best to ignore my sister, which wasn't
easy considering her annoyance vibrated off her. She didn't need to say
anything else. We knew each other well enough to know what the other was
thinking. In this case it was my fascination with Jacob. I could almost hear
her asking me why a ghost and not the very much alive vicar's son from St.
Luke's who always tried to touch my hand or some other part of me after Sunday
service.

But how could
she understand? She couldn't see Jacob. Couldn't get sucked in by those eyes,
so like a dangerous whirlpool, or that classically handsome face. I could, and
was, even though my brain told me I was a fool. He was dead.

"Why are
you so solid?" I asked him.

He waved a hand
and shrugged one shoulder. "It's just the way I am."

I had the
feeling there was more to it than that but I didn't want to be rude and pry. Not
yet anyway.

"So how do
you propose to return this demon to the Otherworld?" Celia asked.

"We must
discover who wanted the demon released and why," Jacob said. "We can
start by understanding the words you spoke during the séance."

I repeated his
answer to Celia and she in turn repeated the incantation. "It means
nothing to me," he said, "but I'll ask the souls in the Waiting Area.
It might be a more familiar language to one of them."

"Wouldn't
the Administrators know?" I asked. "Or if not, can't they just summon
the demon back again with an incantation of their own?"

"The Administrators
don't have the power to reverse a curse issued in this realm. No one in the
Waiting Area does. It can only be done by someone in this realm and only when
the demon is near."

I swallowed and
looked down at the amulet in my hand. "So much trouble over a piece of cheap
jewelry."

"Keep the
amulet with you. Whoever speaks the reversing incantation must be wearing it."

"I should
be the one to wear it and seek out the peddler," Celia said. She held her
head high, her chin up, as if defying us to disagree with her. Despite her
stance, I knew she was afraid. The supernatural was my territory. She'd never
been as comfortable around the ghosts as me, and demons were another matter
altogether. The guilt over releasing one must be great indeed for her to make
such a bold offer to rectify the situation.