Elysium shook his head, andBenedict saw the very moment doubt spilled into his brother's heart—like inksplattering a clean page. It had never been there before, but it would neverleave him now. "Mother… If this is really you…" he tried, alreadywanting to pretend this spirit wasn't the same soul that had taught him all hisbeliefs.
"Oh, it is, boy. And you shouldknow, your will is not stronger than mine. No one can make me go. No one canpush me out. And no seal can break me," the ghost swore, andthen Uncle Vernon turned the gun on himself, pushing the barrel up against thesoft flesh under his chin.
"No!" Elysiumscreamed, launching forward.
Uncle Vernon, or maybe theirmother inside his mind, stared straight at Elysium when he pulled the trigger.The gun fired, and Uncle Vernon's body snapped back, brains splattering thewall and ceiling. His heavy body collapsed behind his desk with a final thud,and Hazel screamed. She pushed off the floor, already in a sprint toward herfather.
The house trembled, wallsshaking and picture frames falling. Doors opened and slammed up and down thesecond floor before a terrible thudding ran down the stairs. She was in thehouse. She was showing them so that Elysium would know the truth of herthreats. They could not cast out Gloria Lyon. She was a poltergeist now. Thishouse was hers, and she would not yield it, and no one here had the strength tomove her.
"Elys!" Benedict shouted, just asLuis went slack under him, palms still pressing the gunshot wound on hisstomach. He looked around for someone else, anyone else, but Hazel rocked herfather's corpse in her arms, and Theodore sat on his ass in the doorway,staring at the dead man.
Emmeline lingered in thecorner. She wore the same outfit as always, the same as he had seen her wearingin the closet, but she wasn't the same woman. The one in the closet had beenalive, full of fear and heartache. The ghost in the corner was still, empty oflife, and pulsing with fury.
"Elys!"he tried again, but his brother was already moving to him, dropping to hisknees on the other side of Luis's body.
Tears rolled off Elysium'slashes when he held their brother's face, looking into those open, glassy eyes.He felt for a pulse even though they both knew he was gone, and then he pushedat Benedict's shoulder. At first, Benedict couldn't move, couldn't give up thepressure he had been holding on the wound. Elysium patted his chest firmly,pushing him until he finally gave up and sagged back onto the floor.
"What's happening?"Benedict asked.
"You should leave,"Elysium whispered, gaze still fixed on Luis. "Gograb your things, Benny. Take the car and go. Just go."
"What are you—"
"Just go," Elysiumsaid again.
Benedict clenched his teeth,wanting to argue just for the sake of arguing—because he didn't want to be toldto leave. He wanted to storm out of this house because he had decided togo. Maybe he had even wanted Elysium to try to stop him. Togive him a speech about family loyalty and convince him to stay.
He looked down at theirbrother's corpse. He had never been close with Luis—never really wanted to be.And suddenly he regretted that because now he could never change it. He couldnever take it back or get to know him better.
Their uncle lay on the otherside of the desk. How many people had died since he got here? Three? Four?
Benedict pushed himself to hisfeet, using the wall to brace himself and smearingblood on the surface. He staggered out of the room, stepping over Theodore.
Emmeline joined him in thehallway, walking back to their room in silence.
He opened the door and held itfor her.
She slipped past, and for oneblissful second, things felt normal. They were together and alone—just the wayhe liked it.
"Wash your hands beforeyou touch anything..." Emmeline said, the command mild, asthough she wouldn't really care if he rubbed his bloody hands clean on thesofa.
He walked to the bathroom,heart hammering in his chest as he replayed everything that had happened fromthe moment he walked into the parlor for the séance. "Is that really mymother's ghost?"
"Yes. But it isn't heranger." Emmeline followed him to linger in the opendoor of the bathroom. The habit of leaving doors open for her was so ingrainedthat he hadn't even thought to do it. He never wanted to close her out.
He turned on the water,smudging the porcelain handle on the sink. He stuck his hands under the coldwater, rubbing his brother's blood from his skin. Luis was dead. Uncle Vernonwas dead. Mother was dead. And at least two of the staff had been killed.
"Whose anger is it,Emmeline?" he whispered, afraid to know—afraid of having to turn on theone person he'd loved his whole adult life.
"You're going to leave mein this house this time."
He looked up to catch herreflection in the mirror, not the ghost but the living girl from his vision—theone with bruises and tears and so much fear in her eyes. "I won't,"he promised.
She forced a smile that onlymade her appear sadder. His heart cracked. "You have to. Or you'll die,too, this time."
He turned around with handsstill wet. The ghost stood in his doorway, no tears or bruises or bloodstains.Just his Emmeline, colors muted but for the moving swirls of green in her eyes."Where is it? That closet you showed me... Where is it?" Benedictpressed.
She cringed, sliding a stepback and away from the bathroom door.
He followed her, forgetting toturn off the sink. "Was it close by? Was it in the village by the river?Can you remember?"
"Stop."
He did,both his words and his body halted. He couldn't make her tell him. She mightnot even know. Ghosts didn't always.
They stared at one another,and he thought about all the versions of her he had known. Sometimes he thoughtof her as his partner because he was sure he would spend his whole life in hercompany. She had been a strange burden in the
