The Medium

Chapter 5, Part 1

"That isn't your concern, Emily," he said, striding ahead. I had to walk fast to keep up with him. His legs were very long.

"Nevertheless, I am concerned. I'd like your permission to speak to them—."

"No!"

"But I can help them move on. They need to know you're dead, Jacob, or they'll be forever wondering."

"Leave it, Emily. You're not..." He heaved a deep sigh. "This is not your concern."

"But—"

"No!" He stopped and rounded on me so that I almost bumped into him.

I ducked into a nearby alley where we could talk without the stares. I was about to argue but then I saw anxiety behind the fierceness in his eyes.

Why? What about his family worried him so? Or perhaps the real question was, what was it about me meeting them had him so concerned?

What would I learn?

"Very well. I understand." I couldn't meet his eyes as I spoke. I fully intended to visit them, but not today. Today I had a séance to conduct.

I started walking again and he fell into step beside me. "There's one other question I want to ask you."

He groaned. "I had a feeling there would be."

"Did your death come about due to an accident?"

"Not an accident, no."

My stomach knotted. Even though it was the answer I expected it sickened me to hear him confirm my suspicions. "So someone must have...killed you." The word stuck in my throat. It was simply too horrible. "Who?"

"I don't know."

I stopped. He stopped too and shrugged. "I don't," he said.

I believed him. "How did it happen?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

I waited but he didn't say anything else. "Would you like to elaborate?"

"Not right now."

Good lord it was like pulling out a rotten tooth—painful. "I see. So your body is located...?"

"I don't know."

"Right. So you don't know who killed you, or how, or where or even why. Do you think any of those things is the reason why you can go wherever you please and why you look decidedly real?"

His gaze fixed on something over my shoulder and I thought he wouldn't answer me, but then he said, "I think they have something to do with the way in which I died, yes."

"So...do you want to tell me more?"

He looked at me with those blue, blue eyes and darkly forbidding expression that thrilled me yet unnerved me at the same time. "Perhaps another day," he said.

If he thought a few simmering glances would deter me, he had a lot to learn. "Why not now?"

He started walking again. "Because I think you'll take it upon yourself to find out more if I do. Give a dog a bone and it'll look for a second when that's gone."

I squinted at him. "Are you comparing me to a dog?"

"When your hair tumbles over your eyes like that, you do look a little like an Old English sheepdog."

I swept my hair off my forehead and tried to shove it under my hat but without the pins to keep it in place, it simply fell out again. He laughed.

"This isn't funny, Jacob. We're discussing your death."