Free Photographs & Phantoms by Cindy Spencer Pape

his brother, however, she was forced to find a table to set the trays down on to wait.
    “Amy, there you are.” She looked up to see Sergeant Peterson striding toward her.
    “Sergeant, what are you doing down here at this time of the day? I didn’t think you cared for the sun and sand.” Her heart pounded—she wished Kendall was here. How could she lure the man someplace where the constables could take him? Above all, she had to protect the boys.
    “Looking for you.” He strode up, grabbed her hand and before she could stop him or jerk away, he’d jammed a golden ring around her finger, a modest sapphire glinting in its center.
    “Sergeant—Michael—what are you doing? Let me go.” She wrenched at her wrist, but her hand didn’t seem to want to obey her command—it remained limply held in his.
    “You’re coming with me, Amy. You’ve been a very naughty girl and need to be punished.” He tucked her hand into his elbow and she found herself walking alongside him, up the steps and away from the shore. She tried to stop, but her feet simply wouldn’t obey her—it was as if he’d taken complete control of her body—except for her stomach, which was threatening to rebel at any moment.
    “Where are we going?” She could talk, it seemed, in a low, decorous voice, but not loudly enough to call for help. “What have you done to me?”
    “Merely speeded up our courtship, my dear. I was worried you were becoming too entranced by that lordling. So I finished your engagement ring rather sooner than I’d expected. Do you like it?”
    It was an attractive ring, simple and elegant with its clear blue, perfect stone. In other circumstances, she’d have loved it. “It’s disgusting.” Pain lanced through her throat, as if it were being constricted by a giant hand.
    “There, there, be nice. You won’t like the consequences if you’re not.”
    “Why are you doing this, Michael? Why not just court me openly if you were interested?” Perhaps the use of his first name would make him more amenable.
    “Because you never paid attention to a damn thing besides your stupid photographs,” he growled. When they reached the King’s Road, he hailed a cab and bundled her inside, giving the name of one of the more moderate hotels toward the far end of town.
    Amy tried to say something to the cabbie but found herself strangled again, as if by one of those invisible serpents. She waited until the cab was moving, and then asked pleasantly, “So how are you controlling me, Michael? Is it one of your serpent spirits? Is it linked to the ring you gave me?”
    “How do you know about the serpents?” he demanded, jerking her closer to him. His dark eyes were crazed and she wondered if he was using opium or some other drug. “Did he see them?”
    “They showed up in the photographs,” she snarled. “And every time, someone died.”
    “You were meant to blame yourself.” He shook her, making her teeth rattle. “Stop pursuing such an unnatural profession for a female—especially when you don’t need the money.”
    “I love my work,” she told him. “It feels perfectly natural to me. Why would I want to give it up? Clearly, you don’t know me at all. What is it you want from me?”
    “To marry me, you stupid bitch.” He kissed her then, forcing his tongue inside her mouth, and she didn’t have enough control over even her jaw muscles to stop him. He tasted vile—of uncleaned teeth and cheap tobacco and stale beer. The combination made her stomach, already queasy, lurch, and she began to gag. He pulled away and pushed her head down just in time for her to vomit over the edge of the cab instead of on the two of them.
    Then she felt something like fangs sinking into the base of her spine and her stomach settled—in fact, she couldn’t feel a thing from the waist down.
    “Are you going to kill me?” A strange, floating sensation filled her head. “Is that what this has come down to? Poisoning me with one of your