Benedict sank back down ontothe couch. Emmeline was beside him now. "Send for me when it's time forthe séance," he said, staring straight ahead until his brother closed thedoor and he could look at his own ghost. "We could leave. Right now,"he whispered.
She smiled, the gesture tightwith sadness, tears welling in her eyes. They never spilled. He suspected theycouldn't. "It's too late. You're going to die here."
Benedict groaned and scrubbedhis hands over his face. "Can you be less doomsday for a minute?"
She went quiet.
He lifted his head, afraid shehad gone. She sat there still, staring at him and not saying anything. And thenshe cocked an eyebrow, and he realized she was being quiet for a minute to givehim one with less doom. He heaved out a laugh that mingled with a sob. Damn,she was dark—he suspected even by ghost standards his Emmeline was grim.
She crossed her arms over herchest. "You should go," she finally said, though she didn'tsound convinced he'd make it.
"It's my mother's ghost,isn't it?" he asked quietly, studying her. What he really wanted to askwas if Emmeline had done this. He had seen her in his room while that mayhembegan downstairs. She couldn't have been in two places at once—that much heknew.
Bruisesmoved like shadows over her skin, there and gone. Shewas a corpse, and then she was a girl again. "It's her," shesaid quietly.
He sighed and nodded slowly,standing from the loveseat. "We'll stay for the séance then. If you see her… You'll warn me, won't you?"
Emmeline startled, crackingthat veneer of spiteful fury. "Always."
He nodded and then went to hisroom and flung himself down on the bed. He laid there on his chest, waiting forher to join him. She did, laying down next to him onher side of the bed. She curled onto her side, staring back at him the way shealways did. Always. But there was somethingbrewing between them, something gathering in her like a storm that had beenthere for years. He feared it would be a hurricane when it finally broke free.
"There are things youdon't tell me," Benedict whispered sleepily, so tired.
"There are things youdon't understand," she countered. She wasn't tired, but shewasn't entirely present either.
He closed his eyes. "WillI understand when I'm a ghost, too?"
She didn't answer. Or maybe hefell asleep before she did.
Chapter Ten
Benedictwoke around nine in the morning, showered and dressed, and snuck out of hisroom. It reminded him of when he was younger, creeping around because he didn'twant Mother to spot him and test his lack of abilities.
He paused at the top of thestairs. Hazel and Elysium were arguing in the foyer, voices hushed.
"We need to send himaway," Elysium pressed.
"You don't think that'lllook suspicious?" Hazel countered.
"It isn't safe forhim."
She laughed, and it was anugly sound. "You mean it isn't safe for you? Just tell him. Who cares ifit makes him sad? We did what we had to. We saved his life!"
"Shut up," Elysiumsnapped when her voice rose. "Something like this could ruin thefamily."
Benedict wondered if they weretalking about Mother's ghost and the dead staff. That seemed pretty scandalous.But who were they worried about finding out? Had they not told Uncle Vernon?Had he somehow missed it?
Benedict was about to go down,interrupt their whisper fight, and ask some questions of his own when Emmelinecaught his attention. She stood at the other end of the hall, waving him towardher. When he started walking, she held a finger up to her mouth and pointed atTheodore's bedroom door. She smirked in a very mischievous, up-to-no-good waythat both thrilled and worried Benedict. It was the first sign of her actinglike her usual self since they got here. She slipped through the closed door,vanishing.
Benedict followed with quicksteps.
He didn't knock.
The smell of incense hit himfirst, the room dark despite the rising sun outside. Heavy curtains had beendrawn over the windows and the lamps left off. Dozens of candles were lit andset out along the side tables, casting shadows more than light. Theodore's roomhad always looked the same—like a guest room. Comfortable andexpensive, but far from personal. He had been honing all his personalexpression on clothing since childhood—his room had never mattered to him.
"Theo?" Benedictasked.
His cousin sat at the table,slumped over it, forehead to the tablecloth. He didn't move or speak.
"Theo?" Benedicttried again, coming closer. The door snapped shut behind him, but before hecould turn toward it, Theo jerked upright—inhaling so deeply that he shudderedin his chair.
His eyes opened, wide andunfocused for a long second. And then the man laughed, grinning widely. Itwasn't his laugh or his grin. He hugged himself, rocking back and forth in thechair.
"What are youdoing?" Benedict whispered.
Theodore stood up andstretched. "He was asking for it," Emmeline explained, hervoice mingled with Theo's. "He was begging to talk to a ghost in thishouse. He even offered himself up as a vessel, looking to understand."Theodore walked around the table, but his sway and his stride were allEmmeline.
He walked right up toBenedict, standing only inches away, and reached up to brush fingers across hischeek.
Benedict should stop her, andhe knew that. It wasn't right. But his pulse jumped at that touch.
Theodore leaned down, plushlips close to his. Heavy lashes lifted to meet Benedict's gaze in the neardark. He saw the swirls of her maddening green in the depths of his cousin'seyes. She kissed him, and Benedict kissed back, sinking fingers into the backof his cousin's hair to hold his face closer, kissing deeper. Emmeline did nottaste like he had imagined she would—no sugary coffee or hint of lipstick, butcigarettes and breath mints.
The kiss grew frantic,Theodore pushing Benedict up against the nearest wall and pressing against him.With a groan, Benedict shoved him back and shook his head. "No."
Theodore laughed, but thesound was Emmeline. "Why not?"
"You can't use his bodylike this," Benedict said, breathless. "I can't."
"Because he's yourcousin?" she asked, tipping Theodore's head to oneside.
"Becausehe's an unwilling participant. Let him go, Em."
The smile on Theodore's lipswithered. "Why?"
