Evermore (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #3)(55)

"And you told him about the curse?" Louis asked. "Just like that? Did you not think through the consequences?"

"Of course I did. But he was so unhappy, and by then I would do anything for him. Anything. I was not afraid of becoming nothing myself. I welcomed it." She shrugged one shoulder. "I knew I was going to an awful place when my time came. Leviticus knew that too. Our crimes had already been committed, and there is no good place in the Otherworld for the likes of us. Why not destroy it altogether? What did it matter to us?" Her face crumpled, twisted, and a sob bubbled up from her chest. "Neither of us was going to be with our beautiful boys. I would rather be nothing than face never seeing my son again."

Her quiet sobs made the only sound in the otherwise silent room. She cut a lonely figure on the floor near the feet of Leviticus Price, her gray hair tumbling out of its pins and over her face. George rose but I did not get off the sofa. I felt stronger yet still so empty. Jacob had not come to me. He must have gone. I hoped he'd crossed over, that we'd not been too late.

At least I'd said goodbye.

"This must be reported to the police," Louis finally said. "We cannot hide the fact Leviticus Price was shot."

"We cannot tell them everything," Celia said. She seemed to suddenly realize she was holding Louis' hand and let go. She tucked it behind her. He stretched his fingers then balled them into a fist.

"We'll go to Lord Preston first and tell him what we've learned," I said. "If we can get him to believe us, he might be able help us to convince the police that Price was killed in self-defense." Getting him to change his mind was highly unlikely, but we had a duty to tell him who had killed Jacob. If he did believe us, his influence would be extremely useful when it came time to inform the police.

I expected Mrs. Stanley to say something, but she did not. Mrs. White, however, nodded. "I will agree to say the same thing. There is no need for anyone here to suffer further."

"Thank you," my sister whispered, dabbing at her damp eyes with the edge of her sleeve.

"Emily, are you well enough to go home?" Louis asked. "Should I carry you?"

"I'm well," I said, getting up.

"Don't exert yourselves too soon," Mrs. White said to George and me. "You must rest."

"No problem there," George said, buttoning up his waistcoat. "I feel like I could sleep for a week. Come, Emily, we'll go to the Beauforts' together. Do you think the ball will have finished?"

I stood, but the room tilted and my legs gave way. I felt myself falling, but something caught me before I hit the ground.

Not something, someone. "Jacob!"

"Emily, you look terrible." His hands circled my waist as he gently lowered me to the sofa.

"He's here?" George asked. "Beaufort is back?"

"He is," I said. And he was holding me. It was exactly where I wanted to be, and where I wanted him to be. By my side.

"Em, are you all right?" He pushed the hair off my forehead and kissed me there. "Answer me."

"I'm all right," I said. "Oh, Jacob." I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. I allowed myself one almighty sob then gathered my wits and drew back to look at him properly. He was almost back to the way he used to be. Although most of him was solid, like any living man, his edges were a little smudged, as if someone had run their thumb around him. I caressed his cheek, his jaw and neck, unable to get enough of him. It was so good to touch him again, and to know the danger to the Waiting Area was over.

He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand. "Thank God, Emily. Thank God you're alive."

"The Waiting Area is back to normal?" George asked.

"It is," Jacob said, but there was a small hesitation in his voice.

I repeated his words for the others then said, "What's wrong?"

"I feel a little weaker than I used to."

"It may take time before you are fully restored to your usual spirit self." But there was more. He didn't quite meet my gaze and I knew he was keeping something from me. "Jacob? What is it?"

"As you can see, I haven't crossed," he said heavily. "I thought I would now that Price is gone. I saw his spirit briefly in the Waiting Area, but he didn't see me. It was him, wasn't it? He tried to destroy the Otherworld. He was the one who brought Mortlock back and the demon. He ended my life. So why am I still in the Waiting Area?"

"Oh, Jacob, I'm sorry. I wish I knew."

"I think it's something to do with what he said to me when I died. That I must give something up." He faded a little, not quite as much as when the Waiting Area was under the curse, but he certainly wasn't solid anymore. "Do you remember, Em?"

"I do. You still think that relevant now that he's gone?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes. "I feel so tired."

"You can rest soon." I cupped his face in my hands. "Think. What could you possibly have to give up?"

But it wasn't Jacob who answered me. It was Mrs. Stanley. "He must give up the one thing he truly cares for," she said. "But he cannot. Can you, Mr. Beaufort?"

"You know what it is?" I clutched at Jacob's arms. The muscles tensed beneath his shirt. "Tell me. I want you to crossover. I want you to be at peace. Tell me what you must give up and I'll help you."