The demon ran right past me and I groaned in frustration. If it got away the curse wouldn't work. It needed to be close. How close, I didn't know.
Jacob swore and began to run but he was either in pain or exhausted and couldn't catch it.
The demon passed George and I just hoped he would shout a warning to his driver to get out of the beast's way. He didn't. He dove at the creature and together they tumbled to the ground. George grunted a loud oomph as his shoulder connected with the stones.
I uttered the rest of the curse and prayed I had it right, prayed the demon was near enough for it to be effective.
A strong breeze whipped at my skirts and monetarily separated the thin curtain of fog only for it to re-settle around us when the wind died. George sat up, blinked. His glasses had come off and his eyes were huge. He was alone.
"Is it gone?" I asked.
Jacob came up beside me. "Yes." He looked worse than the last time he'd fought the demon but again his clothing quickly returned to the way it had been before and his skin healed, erasing all evidence of the fight. He grasped my shoulders and turned me to face him. "Are you all right, Emily?" He looked down at me with an intensity I was now used to.
I nodded. "You?"
"Of course." He let me go and strolled over to George, still sitting on the ground. He looked dazed, the poor thing. I suppose reading about demons is quite different to encountering one.
Jacob searched the immediate vicinity then found what he was looking for-George's hat and glasses. He held them out. George stared for a moment then accepted them.
"Thank you," he said. He stood and brushed himself off then slapped his hat on his head. "Shall we go?"
"Gladly." I glanced back at Finch's body. "What shall we do about him?" I didn't want to leave him there for the rats to eat. Ugh.
"I'll have my butler contact the police when I get home," George said. "They'll take care of it."
"Good idea but have him do it anonymously," I said. "None of this is your fault and there's no need for you to become involved any more than you are."
"You'll get no argument from me," he said on a heavy sigh.
The three of us made our way back down the lane to the carriage. The driver still sat on the box, the pistol in his hand. He looked immensely relieved that his master was alive. No doubt Mrs. Culvert would have dismissed him if George had wound up dead from this adventure. He hopped lightly down to the ground and opened the door.