The Dark Between Part 28

She knew what Tec was about to do. No matter how Simon had offended her, she couldn't stand by and watch this. She must take Tec by surprise-distract him or throw him off balance somehow.

Elsie s.n.a.t.c.hed the electric torch from the ground and edged around the corner of the building, coming to a halt by the door. She inserted the key and turned it slowly until the bolt retracted. Pocketing the key, she eased the door open and braced herself to rush upon Tec, fully intending to slam the torch at his head with all her might.

But she stopped dead at the sight of Simon's body convulsing as though a puppet string jerked him upward. Elsie could only stare in mute horror as he writhed. Finally Tec pulled the lever and Simon's body ceased its unnatural jerking.

Something in her brain snapped then, and the torch fell from her hand as she stumbled across the room, shoving Tec aside and grasping Simon's arm. He lay utterly still, his lower lip drooping under the bar in his mouth. His chest did not move.

"No, no, no," she groaned, touching his face and feeling the softness of his still-warm flesh. She leaned down, putting her ear by his mouth and then his chest.

He wasn't breathing.

She turned to Tec. "What have you done?"

The strange boy merely lifted a hand, palm facing her, and moved it as though he pushed her. He'd not actually touched her body. Nevertheless, Elsie reeled backward from some invisible force and fell hard to the floor.

Fear and rage battled within her, but Tec's face remained infuriatingly blank as he took a watch from his pocket and studied it. She glanced again at Simon's limp body. His right hand lay palm up, fingers extended.

She crawled toward him.

Let me go there. She reached up to grasp his hand. Let me be with him.

I want to fall.

Elsie gasped when that strange thread pulled at her spine and the spasm of nausea gripped her gut. She gave herself to the dark between, falling through the black spiral and the bone-chilling cold without fear. When the spinning, sucking sensation finally came to an end, she opened her eyes.

Simon stood before her, pale and blinking. Tec lingered in the shadows behind him.

Elsie took a step toward him. "Simon?"

He rubbed his eyes. "What's happened?"

"He's killed you."

Simon glanced to the side, as though considering this. "My G.o.d, I think he has." His voice registered surprise rather than horror.

"But ... why?"

He looked around him, his eyes wide with wonder, before turning back to her.

"Because I told him to."

Chapter 36.

Asher took a breath, thinking to somehow explain, to apologize, to say something that would get them away safely, but all that issued from his mouth was a rush of voiceless air.

His paralysis continued until the silence became oppressive, and still Philip Marshall didn't speak. Did he suspect what they were after? Surely he wouldn't do away with them in his own rooms at Trinity. If Kate still had her knife, it was possible they could fend him off- "Mr. Beale," said Dr. Marshall, "I thought you'd returned to Summerfield, and yet here I find you in my rooms."

Asher swallowed, determined to speak.

No words came.

Marshall's narrow-eyed gaze moved from him to Kate. "And with a girl, I see. Certainly hadn't pegged you for such a precocious fellow. Did you sneak her in here? She's a bit young for this, isn't she?"

Kate stiffened next to him. "I'm his sister."

Marshall grunted. "My dear, you look nothing like him and, moreover, you do not share a surname. We've already met, remember? Last Sunday on Queen's Road. I never forget faces." He turned to Asher. "And I hope you'd never allow any sister of yours to run about in the dark of night-in a laborer's trousers, no less. Just how did you get in here?"

Asher plundered his imagination for a reasonable answer, but his mind was a vast, empty chamber in which the words precocious fellow echoed. So he wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and put an arm around Kate. "I just wanted time alone with her." He pulled her closer, praying she wouldn't protest. "I wished to impress her with your fine lodgings. It was easy enough to sneak her into the college, and I picked the lock on your door."

He didn't dare look at Kate.

Marshall's gaze was direct and a.s.sessing, but Asher refused to waver. After a moment the man's grim mouth softened. "There's more fire in you than I thought. Quite a bold maneuver to impress a girl."

Asher relaxed a fraction. "I never meant for you to find out, of course. I thought you were in London at the Metaphysical Society meeting."

Marshall grimaced. "Wakeham never showed up, and I wasn't about to linger. I usually stay at my club in London, but it seemed easier to take the late train back. My next lecture needs preparing, and all my research is here."

"We'll be on our way, then. I beg your pardon, sir. I do hope you'll forgive this tremendous breach-"

"Yes, yes." Marshall waved away Asher's apologies. "This sort of behavior will stand you in good stead with the Trinity boys next fall, but for your own sake I recommend more self-restraint. Make sure you see her safely to her door, and do not let Helena Thompson find you lurking about together. She'll ship you back to your father before you can take a breath."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir." Asher steered Kate toward the door.

"Don't forget your lovely adornment, my dear." Marshall tossed the cap, which Kate neatly caught in one hand. "See you next fall, Beale."

They made their way down the staircase in silence, Asher's heart still thudding at the memory of Marshall's face when he opened the door. He'd never felt so close to danger in his life. What if Marshall hadn't leapt to the wrong conclusion? What if he'd pulled out a knife ... or a gun? He and Kate were fools for never considering how to protect themselves.

He turned to her. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," she whispered, twisting her hair and stuffing it back in the cap. "That was awfully close."

"You said you found something."

"I kept one page of scribbled notes. You took the folder before I could return it."

His heart leapt again. "Is it enough for the police?"

Kate reached into her pocket and drew out the folded piece of paper. "I didn't have a chance to finish reading, but these are notes about inducing near-death experiences. There's bits about mesmerism, nitrous, and even chloroform-that's what killed my father, you know."

Asher held out his hand. "Let me see."

"But it's dark!"

"I have matches in my pocket. We have good cover here, and no one seems to be about. I need to see this before we leave, Kate."

Once the paper was in his hand, he struck a match on his shoe and read quickly.

Possible to safely induce mind-altering effects of near-death experience?

Mesmerism disappointing.

Nitrous proves mind-expanding, inspires epiphanies, but effects are temporary and exact nature of epiphany is forgotten.

In small doses, chloroform separates the mind from the body and heightens awareness-but larger doses lead to unconsciousness. Overdose is fatal-remember Stanton.

Fibrillation and defibrillation conducted on animals-too dangerous with humans.

Refinement of apparatus possible, but ethical considerations overwhelming.

He reread the last two sentences aloud, tossing the match when it burned his finger. "You didn't read to the end, Kate."

"I didn't have time."

"Well, he seems far too cautious to undertake the kind of experiment we imagined."

"Sounds like he was strongly against hurting anybody, much less killing them," Kate muttered.

"All that trouble and we've found absolutely nothing incriminating." He shoved the paper into his pocket. "Come on, we should go."

They walked in dejected silence toward the Wren Library cloisters.

Kate sighed. "I really thought we had something."

"Keep your voice down," he whispered.

"Who's there?"

Asher halted abruptly, pulling Kate behind him. They had turned the corner and were mere yards from the ornamental gate that led to the Backs, but now two men in dinner jackets blocked their path-the same academics they'd encountered before. Judging by their hostile expressions, they'd sobered considerably during the last hour.

"How did you get in?" the stout one barked.

"I'll get the porter this instant," his companion said. "Dixon should ring the police. It seems we have a pair of thieves in our midst."

Asher pulled his hat low over his eyes and did his best to slump like a villain. He didn't remember meeting these two during his time with Marshall, but one couldn't be too careful. Should he reprise the story of impressing his lady friend? Appeal to their manly sensibilities? They'd seemed more interested in fictional ladies than flesh-and-blood ones. And how could he make such a confession without dragging Marshall into it?

Kate poked his back. "We can outrun them," she whispered.

He considered the gentlemen's bulging midsections, made even more prominent by their stiffly boiled shirts. And there was the gate with its open padlock benignly hanging to the side.

"Asher!" Kate hissed.

He squeezed her arm. "Run now. I'm right behind you."

Chapter 37.

"I want to know why you are here." Simon's eyes were steely. "Are you ... dead?"

"No," Elsie whispered. "This is where I go when the dead speak to me."

He looked about him, peering into the darkness. "Have you seen her? Is Amy here?"

"Is that why you did this? To be with her?"

Simon looked behind him, searching the darkness. "Amy, why won't you show yourself?" He turned wild eyes to Elsie. "Where is she? You told me she was with me always. I thought you saw her that day at the British."

She shook her head. "Spirits move on. I barely understand it myself."

Elsie glanced at Tec. He kept to the shadows, his face stricken. Simon did not seem to see him, so she braced herself for the next question. "How did she die, Simon?"

A shadow came over his face. "She took her own life. Her husband was insane, but she couldn't leave him. I loved her so purely. In the end it was still too much for her to bear."

"You chose this out of grief, because you wanted to join her in eternity?"

"No. I don't want to die-I just want to open a channel to her." Desperation contorted his features. "Why can't I see her?"

Before she could answer, Simon convulsed again, and she was falling ... falling back to the hard floor of the old laboratory.

Head pounding, Elsie opened her eyes to see Tec lifting the wires from Simon's chest and helping him to sit upright. Simon coughed and gasped, clutching Tec's shoulder until his breathing calmed. Elsie watched mutely as he ran his hands over his chest, his face, and through his hair. He turned to Tec.

"It wasn't enough time, you fool. I couldn't find her!"

Elsie pushed herself up to her knees. "What have you done?"

"It seems that I've failed," he said softly.

"But ... you're alive. How?"

"The same jolt that stopped my heart restarted it. It's as simple as that." He eased himself off the table and stepped toward her, offering his hand. "Why are you so shocked? You listened closely to our conversation at the Thompsons' dinner table. When you told me of your gift, I knew I was ready to take the risk."

"It's not a gift, Simon." Ignoring his hand, she shakily rose to her feet. "It's a curse."

"Do you know how long I've worked to achieve what you gained through sheer accident? I tried everything to bridge the divide between life and death-meditation, mesmerism, even mind-altering narcotics." He sighed. "And I've tested the abilities of every known psychic in England. They're all frauds. None of them could find Amy for me. But Marshall ... he was onto something with his notion of the subliminal self. He'd found anecdotal evidence of people gaining new abilities after a brush with death. But he was too d.a.m.ned obstinate. He wouldn't experiment on himself or anyone else, not after Stanton died. So ... I had to do it myself."