Poison in the Blood (13 page)

“Emily?”

I turned my head in the direction of Michael’s voice and spotted him standing a few feet away, being physically restrained by Simon. Gathering my strength, I forced myself to sit up. There was a rush of strange lightheadedness, and my limbs tingled with a prickly pins-and-needles sensation. No permanent damage done. Even the cut in my palm had healed.

“Is Miss Thistlegoode all right?” I asked when I spotted Dr. Bennett. She was absent from the room, as well as Justine.

“No, I’m afraid she did not make it. She was barely hanging on when we found her,” he replied. “Miss Dubois is seeing to the matter now. How do you feel?”

I blinked. How did I feel? “Odd.”

“Here, let’s get you settled into a chair before your husband takes a swing at Mr. St. Jerome.”

“I would rather like to see that,” I muttered. Dr. Bennett chuckled as he helped me to my feet, and with his aid I managed to stumble to one of the chairs near the writing desk. “Is there tea? Tea would be lovely right now.”

“I believe your sister is fetching some. She seemed a bit flustered.” Dr. Bennett began fussing with his spectacles, appearing quite flustered himself.

Poor Jo. I’d brought our motley band into her husband’s library. There would be hell to pay for this later. For now, I watched Michael and Simon arguing as quietly as they could manage.

“Oh for pity’s sake, just let him go, Simon. He hasn’t bitten me like a rabid dog before, and I’m certain he isn’t going to start now,” I said, exasperated.

“You can’t be sure of that,” Simon argued. “I, for one, can smell your blood from here.”

Despite the macabre statement, I rolled my eyes. “Bully for you. If he misbehaves I shall sock him in the nose and you can rescue me, for I’m sure you’re not about to leave the room.”

Simon studied me with his cool, pale gaze, and then he made a great show of letting Michael go and motioning him onward. There was an unmistakable air of challenge in his expression, as though he expected he would be proved correct any moment now. For both our sakes, I hoped Michael proved him wrong.

Michael hurried toward me and knelt at my feet, taking my hand in his. His skin was cold, reminding me that I had left my gloves in Miss Thistlegoode’s bedroom. His concern for my well-being and fear that I had been in danger threatened to overwhelm me again, and I gasped.

“Quietly, darling. You’re thinking much too loudly,” I warned.

He smiled sheepishly; he would have blushed, had he had the blood to do it. “My apologies. I was worried for you. You made quite an entrance.”

“How did you manage it?” Dr. Bennett asked. “You didn’t even speak a spell.”

“Oh…well, I assumed that blood was needed from watching you, which was why I borrowed your knife. I have it here, by the way, along with Mr. Thistlegoode’s pocket watch.” I produced said knife from my pocket and handed it to Dr. Bennett. Michael tensed, and I assumed he could smell the remnants of blood on the blade. However was he supposed to survive in a house with small children who were forever skinning their knees or scraping their palms?

I cleared my throat and continued my explanation. “My magic does not require spoken words, so I simply concentrated on the strongest connection I had to this world. You.” I smiled at my husband. His expression brightened at my words, and he took my hand again. “I wasn’t prepared for the experience of creating the portal, but it was necessary. The faeries were not about to allow us to leave peacefully after what we had seen.”

“My wife, the brave explorer,” Michael said with a fond smile. “I can’t believe you went to Faerie.”

I wrinkled my nose. “It was a very disagreeable place. I don’t think I would like to visit again.”

“There are many lovely places in Faerie. That just did not happen to be one of them,” Dr. Bennett said. “I am not certain where we were. Do faeries fall into your area of study as a chronicler?” The doctor turned to Simon, and I repressed a sigh of relief. An academic problem would be the perfect distraction for Simon.

Dr. Bennett peppered him with details of our journey, and I turned my attention back to my husband. Surprisingly, his focus was still on me and not on the topic of discussion.

“I love you.”

A thrill went through me at Michael’s words. I had missed him terribly.

“I love you, too,” I replied.

“I wish I could have accompanied you.”

“You can’t. You’re not allowed in Faerie,” I reminded him. Master necromancers and chroniclers were not allowed to visit Faerie, for the faeries took exception to their undead state. Becoming immortal was considered a sin, because it interrupted the natural wheel of life. I wondered what Lady Brigid thought of that.

Exceptions could be made for your unique situation, particularly if you allied yourself with the right mentor.

I shuddered at the thought, and Michael frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing to worry yourself about,” I assured him.

Thankfully Justine returned before my husband could ask further questions. Her brow was furrowed, but at least her sword and shield had returned to a harmless parasol—well, mostly harmless, I assumed. It would be amusing to see her whap Simon with it…

“The Oberon is in Salisbury, still celebrating Midsummer,” she announced. “He refuses to return for two more days.”

“Refuses?” Simon asked.

“He’s a stubborn ass,” she replied. “I’ve had trouble with him ever since my arrival.”

“Lucius is a traditionalist,” Simon said.

Justine snorted. “That is one way of putting it. We can’t proceed without him.”

“How do we proceed?” I asked.

“The Oberon will need to bring our charge against the faeries to their Council of Three, and the council will proceed from there. For a crime of this magnitude there will likely be a trial, and we will all need to testify.”

I nodded, for that seemed reasonable. Perhaps the faeries could explain themselves. I couldn’t imagine a reasonable motive for the faeries to have killed dozens of girls, but I recognized the heartache of the woman in my vision.

“Very well. What should we do in the meantime while waiting for the Oberon’s return?” I asked.

“Be vigilant. If this house does not have faerie wards, you should consider casting some,” Justine suggested. I hated the idea of more wards, for in my humble opinion there were far too many in this city to begin with. She crossed to stand next to my chair, casting a curious glance at Michael, who still knelt at my feet.

“You look much improved,” she said.

“I feel quite well now. I merely overexerted myself.”

“You seem to do that quite frequently. I have never met anyone who swoons as often as you,” she commented.

I blushed. “All magic has its drawbacks. Unfortunately that is mine.”

“Perhaps if you used your magic on a regular basis, you would not find it so draining,” Justine suggested. “Well, you should have a few days to rest. I will keep you informed of any new developments in the meantime.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your faith in me,” I said.

“That faith is easily justified. You have proved yourself more than once.” Justine’s gaze flicked from Michael to Simon in a silent critique of their attempts to limit my activities. “You are brave and powerful, Emily. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

I smiled at the compliment, suffused with the warm glow of praise, for I seldom heard it. That feeling dissipated the moment Simon cleared his throat.

“We have no doubt that Emily rushes in where angels fear to tread. It is her penchant for doing so that gives us cause for concern,” Simon commented.

“Your concern is very touching,” I replied dryly.

“Emily.” Michael’s voice was weary, and in reflex I reached out and affectionately brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. He was forever trying to tame his hair, and there were always a few locks that escaped his attempts. I found it charming. Michael smiled, because he was never able to stay cross at me for long.

“I will leave you to your discussion, for I have matters to attend to,” Justine said.

She motioned for Dr. Bennett to accompany her out, and before they left the room I mouthed the words
Tell her!
to Dr. Bennett. He nodded and beat a hasty retreat.

“Tell her what?” Michael inquired after they were gone.

“Before we left for our adventure in Faerie, I discovered that Dr. Bennett and Miss Dubois are soul mates. I left it up to him to inform her of that. I think they are a marvelous match. They already work so well together. I’m sure they will be very happy.”

“You seem quite fond of Miss Dubois,” Simon said.

Squaring my shoulders, I brushed at my skirts and rose. Michael rose with me, and I forcibly reminded myself that I was not to touch him, as my first instinct was to take his arm. “At the moment, I like Miss Dubois a great deal more than I do you,” I replied, glaring at him. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me—”

“I would very much like to hear the story of what happened,” Michael said. For a moment I wavered, tempted by the idea of spending more time in his company, but the pull of a familiar wailing from the hallway won my attention.

“Another time. Robert needs me.”

I found Josephine’s nanny in the hallway, holding my little boy and looking quite exasperated. Poor woman. With my brood in the house her duties had more than doubled, and I made a mental note to make certain that part of my allowance went toward paying her an additional wage. She had more than earned it. I rescued her from Robert, who clung to me as though he had been tossed into a stormy sea and I was his only safe harbor.

For the rest of the day I tended to the children and placated Josephine and Thomas, who did not appreciate having a murder victim dropped into their home. Thankfully I was able to win them over by pointing out that if it were their daughter, Phoebe, they would want someone to look after her. Phoebe had a few years yet before she would be eligible for marriage, but she was old enough to notice the charms of the opposite sex, and the idea of her being lured away by an amorous faerie with
mal
intent turned all our stomachs. How awful for Miss Thistlegoode and her family. I hoped that her spirit found peace.

That night I sat in the nursery until Robert fell asleep. I was determined that he would stay in his cot, for I needed a good night’s rest. Of course I might have also been avoiding my husband and his mentor by staying late in the nursery, but I felt justified in that. I didn’t care to speak any more with Simon than was absolutely necessary, and I wasn’t allowed time alone with Michael.

The hour had grown very late by the time I crept back to my room. I was exhausted, and would have fallen directly into bed if my hair weren’t still up in its pins. The brush was heavy in my hand as I took my hair down, and I frowned at the dark circles under my eyes as I studied my reflection. Were there more lines around my eyes? Or worse, perhaps they were growing deeper…

“Emily,” Michael said softly. Startled, I dropped the brush. My heart raced like a frightened rabbit as I spotted my husband standing behind me.

I scowled at him. “Darling, you can’t keep sneaking in here. Simon will find out, and I do not want to endure another one of his lectures.”

Michael sighed. “He is being overcautious. You know I would never hurt you.”

“You are not yourself.” The words burned as though they had been seared into my soul. Perhaps they had been, considering that we were soul mates. “What do you want?”

He stepped closer, pulled me to my feet and drew me into his arms. I stiffened as Simon’s dire warnings rang through my thoughts, but when Michael held me all I noticed was the familiar subtle cologne of his soap and the papery scent of too much time spent buried in books—and the security I always felt in his embrace. Peace and completion filled me when I was wrapped in Michael’s arms, and that had not changed one bit.

“You can’t keep scaring me like this. I love you. I will always love you,” he murmured against my hair.

I closed my eyes and buried my head against his chest. He still breathed, and I found comfort in that, and though his pulse was sluggish his heart continued to beat. “I love you, too. I just wish…things were simpler.”

“What could be simpler than the fact that I love you?” he asked.

“Growing old together,” I blurted in reply.

It was cruel of me, and I felt guilty for saying it, but the sense of being whole brought on by his embrace made my heart ache. We belonged together, and yet every moment that passed drew us further apart. Every breath, every heartbeat brought me closer to death, while my soul mate was perfectly preserved in time.

Michael tilted my face up and stroked my cheek. “Age is nothing more than a number.”

“You would say that, being ageless now,” I retorted.

My husband replied by kissing me. My first thought was that his lips were cool as well, but then it didn’t matter. I had missed him so much, had craved his touch for so long, that all that mattered was feeling it again.

“Let me spend the night with you,” he murmured against my lips. I shook my head—Simon would be furious beyond words, and I wasn’t certain that I trusted Michael that completely yet. Michael might not intend to hurt me, but that didn’t mean he might not do it by accident. “Please, darling.”