The Baskerville Tales (Short Stories) by Emma Jane Holloway Page B

the details.
Damn it to hell, I should have used an accelerant!
    Panic sparked through her veins, making it impossible to wait and watch. Grabbing her remaining tools and shoving them into the pocket of her long coat, she slid down the tree. She still had the gun. If all else failed, there was still brute force.
    She ran toward Tom, every sense screaming that something was about to go horribly wrong. It was already happening. The music had stopped and been replaced by alarmed voices.
    The doors opened and Violet stepped out, her carriage that of a queen appearing on the palace balcony to survey her people. Evelina skidded to a stop, just at the edge of Tom’s redolent stink.
    The dead thing was staring at Violet, transfixed. “Gararagh,” it said.
    Violet’s face changed, her eyes going wide. A sound no more intelligible than his came from deep in her belly.
    Evelina watched as the girl struggled to regain her composure, and their eyes met for one instant. Violet swallowed hard and lifted her chin high, the light behind her making a glory of her russet hair. Someone reached to pull her away from the door, but she shook off the hand, refusing to withdraw.
    A hush fell over the crowd. Violet took a step forward, her lips working as if she were fighting off tears. “You came. That’s good, Tom, you did exactly as I asked. But you can go now. Go back to sleep.”
    Evelina experienced a moment of surprised admiration. Rather than hide, rather than run and leave others in danger, Violet had taken responsibility for what she’d done. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to matter. Tom grunted but didn’t budge.
    Evelina circled behind Tom toward the school, staying in the shadows. She was aiming for a compromise position—still out of sight, but at a good enough angle in case she had toshoot.
    The deva picked that moment to dive in with the clockwork chair. With madly flapping wings, the armchair lowered, and then tilted forward. It dumped the candle right on Tom’s head. Wax dribbled down his face, but he blinked it away. The flame went out with a wisp of black smoke.
    Evelina’s stomach plummeted. There were no easy answers for her, no clean fixes. Just dirty hands. That was how things always ended.
    Violet cast her a sideways look. She spoke under her breath, just loud enough that Evelina heard. “Why won’t he go? He’s done what I’ve asked.”
    Evelina shook her head. She answered in a whisper. “Maybe you have to make it official. Say you release him. Say it three times. Three seems to be the proper number for a spell.”
    Violet’s fingers were crushing handfuls of her lush green skirts, but Evelina could still see their trembling. Now Evelina didn’t envy her the dress.
    “I release you, Tom Cannon,” Violet said in a clear, ringing voice. “I release you. I release you. My spell is done.”
    Murmurs sprang up behind her. Violet had used magic, and now everyone knew. The girl stared ahead at her former beau, face set in an expressionless mask. She never flinched as the murmurs grew to an excited roar. Someone was calling for the constables.
    Tom sagged, as if the bones of his spine had suddenly gone soft. A moan came from him that made Evelina’s skin pucker with fear.
    “Is it over?” the girl asked through clenched teeth.
    Instinct made Evelina move before her brain caught up. She darted forward and grabbed Violet’s wrist, dragging her to the right.
    Tom launched himself at the spot where Violet had been the moment before. Evelina burst into a run, dragging the girl behind her. A bellow of rage followed them, but by then they were around the corner of the building.
    That spot was deserted. Evelina pulled the pistol from beneath her coat.
    “No!” Violet let out a wail that didn’t sound like her at all. “Don’t kill him!”
    Evelina couldn’t afford to listen. “He’s already dead. I think he’s going to kill you.”
    Violet’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She started to