Evermore (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #3)(39)

"Put it down!" I shouted, taking a step forward.

Her fingers tightened around the brass cylinder. Blunt squeezed his eyes shut. His lips turned whiter and his breaths came hard and fast, puffing out his cheeks.

She wasn't going to stop.

I was paralyzed, unsure if lunging at her would make the situation better or worse. In the end, it didn't matter.

George pulled the trigger.

Mrs. White screamed and dropped the syringe. Price lunged for it, but he was too slow and I reached it first.

Blunt clutched his leg and howled like an animal. The sickening sound clawed at my already shredded nerves.

"You shot him!" Mrs. White's shaking hands tore at Blunt's blood-stained trouser leg, ripping it to shreds.

"My sofa!" the landlady cried. "You will ruin it!"

Mrs. White worked quickly to staunch the blood flow. She shouted orders at the landlady to fetch clean cloths and bandages. Price merely sat there, watching. The long fingers of one hand slowly stroked his beard. The fingers of his other were wrapped around the chair arm, the knuckles stark against the dark wood grain. He did not look at us but at Blunt.

Beside me, George began to shake. "Will he, uh, be all right?" I gripped his arm, as much to steady myself as him. I wasn't sure which of us trembled more.

Mrs. White snatched the bandages from the landlady, giving her a glare that would have made me take a step back if I'd been the object of it. The landlady didn't move but stared at her, her eyes as fathomless as deep, cold lakes.

"Emily..." George whispered. "We should go."

"We can't go. We don't have answers yet." My grip tightened around his arm. We were so close. I would not let our fear and disgust drive us away empty-handed.

"Can I still have it?" Blunt pleaded with Mrs. White. "Please. Please, can I still have my...my medicine?" He was sobbing like a child denied a toy when all his friends were allowed to play with it.

"Not now," she said as she efficiently wound the bandage around his leg. "Not when you're in this state. You've lost too much blood. It would be too dangerous." She glanced at Price then at us. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry."

Tears streamed down Blunt's cheeks and spittle foamed at the corner of his mouth. "You've ruined everything," he snarled at us. "Everything!"

"Get out." Price's quiet voice cut through Blunt's wails like a sharp blade.

"What's in the syringe?" I pressed, ignoring him. "You were going to kill Blunt, weren’t you?"

"I told you," Mrs. White said. "It was medicine to cure him. I can't give it to him when he's like this. Go. Go!"

"You had better do what he says," the landlady said to us. "Nothing more will happen here. Not now." She spoke with calm authority, and perhaps it was that which made me see her point more than hysterics could. No one was in any state to answer us and we had at least stopped them.

I took George's hand and dragged him out of the parlor. I wanted to smuggle out the syringe before anyone remembered it anyway. The landlady followed us downstairs and opened the door. George was still shaking and I gently removed the pistol from his grip as we crossed the threshold. The landlady slammed the door in our faces.

I stared at it for several moments, trying to take in everything that had just happened.

"I can't believe I did that." George looked down at his shaking hands. "Can't believe it."

"He'll be all right. You may have even saved him. Saved the entire Otherworld too. I'm not convinced Blunt was about to be cured of his addiction. I think Mrs. White was going to kill him so he could deliver the curse."

I instructed the driver to go to my house at speed. I put the dueling pistol back in its velvet bed inside the wooden case and took the syringe from the pocket in my skirt folds where I'd slipped it.

"Careful," George said. "Whatever is in that may have ended Blunt's life, albeit temporarily. Best if we don't touch it until we get out of the rocking coach."

I pocketed the syringe again and drew in a deep breath, the first proper one since entering Price's house. It didn't stop my nerves from jangling.

"Those people are despicable," spat George. "It seems they're all involved. The whole rotten lot of them."

I tipped my head back against the wall, dislodging my hat and a few hair pins. "I'm so saddened at Mrs. White's involvement. She seemed so nice. According to Lucy, Mrs. White was an inspiring teacher."

"Don't be disheartened. She must have been terribly upset over her son's death to go to such great lengths to hurt Beaufort."

"Revenge," I muttered. "It can do horrible things to good people."

"At least we thwarted their plans for a little while. We have their syringe and Blunt is in no condition to be...killed and brought back to life. By the looks of Price, he couldn't endure such an ordeal either."

"There is always the landlady and they could get another syringe. Oh, George, what shall we do now?"

George swapped seats and settled beside me. His presence was a comfort and I felt so glad to have him at my side. "At least we know who is involved now. Beaufort's killer can be brought to justice."