by Skylar Finn
“The Watsons.” He pointed to each member of the family in turn. “Richard, Stella, Odette, and Oliver. This was the year before the fire. Look at Oliver. What do you see?”
I squinted at the weathered photo. Little Oliver Watson glared back. “I see an annoyed kid who probably didn’t feel like sitting for a picture.”
Nick shook the frame and snarled, “Look closer.”
“I’m looking, Nick. I don’t know what you want me to see.”
“There.” He jabbed his finger at Oliver Watson’s face. “Do you see that scar?”
I leaned in to see the tiny pixelated scar that split Oliver’s eyebrow in half. “Yes, I see it. So what?”
“Look at me.”
I obeyed, staring into Nick’s lightning blue eyes. For a moment, I didn’t catch it. Nick’s visage—once so composed and calm—was now angry and violent. I almost missed the tiny scar in his eyebrow, just like Oliver Watson’s in the old picture.
“Oh my God,” I said. “What the hell is going on? Who are you?”
“I’m Oliver Watson,” he said.
“I—what?”
He strode over to Gina and kicked her chair. “Wake up, bitch. You’ve got some explaining to do.”
Gina jolted awake, her head lolling on her shoulders. From the bleary look in her eyes, Nick had drugged her too. “N-Nick, please don’t do this—”
“Shut up,” he ordered.
“The two of you know each other?” I demanded. “How?”
Nick dragged Gina’s chair across the room and planted it in front of mine so the two of us were face to face. “Why don’t you explain how we know each other, Gina? I’m sure your version of events is fascinating.”
“Nicholas—” she pleaded.
“That’s not my name,” he barked. “Tell her!”
Gina trembled and dissolved into tears. Nick shook her chair.
“Don’t you dare,” he ordered. “You think you have the right to cry? You ruined my life!”
“Nick, stop it!” I said. “You’re going to hurt her.”
“She deserves it,” Nick said.
“Just tell me what’s going on,” I replied. “What do you mean you’re Oliver Watson?”
Nick drew a third chair into our midst and straddled it. “It was no secret my father had a multitude of affairs. He adamantly insisted on protection, but Gina here convinced him to slip it in unwrapped.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “That’s disgusting.”
Gina wiped her nose on her shoulder, leaving a trail of snot on her sweater. “That isn’t what happened.”
“It’s exactly what happened,” Nick snapped.
“You told me you never slept with Richard,” I said to Gina. “Why did you lie to me?”
“Because Nick had you under his spell,” she replied, acidity seeping into her tone. “Friendly neighborhood Nick Porter, the golden boy of Crimson Basin. What utter crap. I did what I had to do.”
“Which was what?” I demanded.
“She burned down King and Queens,” Nick spat. “Twice.”
“You selfish brat,” Gina said. “I wish you’d burnt to death with the rest of your family.”
I slid my chair forward so the legs of it thumped against the floor. “Hello? I’d like to know why I’ve been kidnapped!”
“Because you almost found out what he did,” Gina said as she glared at Nick. “He was the one who murdered the Watsons. All of them.”
“Start at the beginning,” I said. “If Nick’s the real Oliver, then who’s Riley’s father?”
“My son,” Gina said. “Noah.”
My body went slack at the revelation. “I’m so confused.”
“When I found out I was pregnant, Richard acted like it was the end of the world,” Gina said. “He pushed me to get rid of it, but I refused. Then he tried to pay me off to leave Crimson Basin.”
“I can’t believe my own father would stoop so low as to sleep with the help,” Nick said, rolling his eyes. “What a disgrace.”
“The help?” I said. “Gina, you worked at King and Queens? I thought you were a guest.”
“I was a maid,” Gina replied. She kicked Nick’s chair. “And for your information, your father harassed several members of the staff. We were all too scared to say anything.”
“Shut up,” Nick growled.
“Richard Watson was a snake,” Gina said, ignoring Nick. “All of the Watsons were too proud and mighty. Richard treated Noah like a pariah. His own son.”
“He allowed him and you to stay at King and Queens,” Nick said. “You forced Noah to befriend my sister. It wasn’t enough to ruin my parents’ marriage? You had to break our family apart too?”
“The Watsons were already broken,” Gina replied. “All I did was expose the cracks. When your father refused to acknowledge Noah as his son, it made me realize that the Watsons didn’t deserve their empire.”
“You started the fire at King and Queens,” I said. “You killed all those people.”
“Then she put her own son in my place,” Nick hissed. “I barely survived. I still have the burn marks.”
He yanked up his pant leg, exposing the scars I’d seen that one day in the spa. Now, I understood how he’d gotten them. He was the lone survivor of the original fire that burned King and Queens to the ground and trapped Richard Watson and the other victims in the debris as ghosts.
“She kidnapped me,” Nick went on. “Pretended that she was my legal guardian and raised me far away from King and Queens to make sure that her own son could take over my family’s legacy. I didn’t know who she was. When I found out the truth, I ran away and began planning.”
“Noah deserved what Richard never gave him,” Gina said. “You didn’t.”
“Who are you to decide who deserves what?” Nick spat. “Look at us now, Gina. I’m the successful businessman you never wanted me to be, your son is dead, and you’re about to join him. Funny how things work out, isn’t it?”
“Ugh, you’re sick,” I said.
Nick rounded on me, his teeth bared in a grin. “Don’t worry, Lucia. I haven’t forgotten about all the loose ends I need to tie up. For instance, there is one half-Watson still remaining.”
My heart thudded against my rib cage. “Riley. She was missing earlier. What did you do with her?”
He rotated a chunky gold ring around his middle finger. “Currently, the young Miss Watson is trapped on the King and Queens ski lift. If you don’t hand over all the evidence you have against me, she’ll fall from the highest point.”
“You’re here,” I reminded him. “How are you going to push her off?”
“Oh, I’m not,” he replied. “My father will.”
His grin widened as he watched the horror infiltrate my expression.
“Did you think you were the only psychic in Crimson Basin?” he asked. “I was honing my skills long before you arrived here, Madame Lucia. My father and I have an unusually close bond. It’s why he’s so powerful. He’s been feeding off of me.”
“You can’t,” I whispered.
Nick lifted out of his chair to stroke my cheek with one long finger. “I can, Miss Star. I’m going to kill Riley Watson.”
Boom!
The door to the cabin burst open, and a monster of a man crashed into the room. His skin was raw and blistered. Some of it had freshly scabbed over. Other parts of his body were heavily wrapped in gauze, including his neck.
“Noah!” Gina gasped. “You’re alive!”
It was Oliver Watson—the fake one who’d been the first to invite me to Crimson Basin. By some impossible miracle, he’d survived the second fire at King and Queens as well as the self-inflicted ice pick wound in his neck. He no longer looked human. Sheer force of will had kept him alive for this long. His injuries were extensive, and he seemed to have cared for them himself. He paid no attention to me or Gina, honing in on Nick instead.
“You will not touch my daughter,” Oliver declared.
Nick bac
ked up as Oliver advanced toward him, but the cabin wasn’t spacious enough for Nick to go far. “What are you doing to do about it? You’re half-dead.”
Oliver roared and lunged across the room. He tackled Nick to the floor. Neither one of them was a brawler. They had both been brought up as wealthy boys of privilege, and street skills had not been included in their etiquette classes. Oliver used his leftover skiing muscles to pin Nick down and hammer his fist into Nick’s head. Nick grabbed Oliver’s hands and dug his fingers in. Oliver’s skin—burned and ruined—ripped. With an anguished howl, Oliver rolled off of Nick to cradle his hands to his chest. Nick, his eyes black and blue from Oliver’s punches, crawled toward his cane leaning against the wall. Oliver reeled his legs in then kicked Nick square in the chest.
As Nick gasped for breath, I wrestled with the mountaineering rope holding me hostage. One of the knots was coming loose. I worked at it, spinning my wrist in opposing directions to release the pressure. Gradually, the rope slackened. As the half-brothers tussled, I yanked my first hand free and untied my feet then untangled myself from the chair and the rope. Nick tossed Oliver to the side and made a second attempt to reach his cane. This time, he grabbed hold of it and swung it toward my head. I ducked just in time to hear it whirl through the air above my hair. As Nick swung through, I used his own momentum to shove him off-balance. He careened into Oliver, and they fell to the floor in a heap yet again.
“Wait!” Gina gasped as I crossed to the cabin’s one and only exit. “You can’t leave me here. He’ll kill me.”
It was either Gina or Riley, and I didn’t have time to work the knots out of Gina’s rope. Instead, I grabbed a knife from the block on the kitchen counter and hacked through the rope on her wrist. Once her hand was free, I dropped the knife in her lap so she could finish the job herself.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I have to go. Good luck.”
As the words left my mouth, Nick finally pulled the advantage over Oliver. He tugged on the handle of his cane, which detached and slid away from the larger portion to reveal a slim, tapered dagger. Nick dug the tip of the knife into Oliver’s throat, right where the ice pick had punctured Oliver’s neck previously. Blood spurted, coating Nick’s face and jacket. Oliver drew in a quick gasp of surprise. Beneath the burns, his face drained of color. Nick yanked the knife out of his brother’s throat, and Oliver’s eyes found mine across the room.
“Please,” he gurgled, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth. “Save Riley.”
Nick dropped him, and Oliver’s ruined body thumped to the floor as he finally succumbed to his wounds. Nick wiped the knife on Oliver’s jacket and kicked his brother’s body off of his shoes.
“No!” Gina said, dissolving into tears.
“Filth,” Nick grumbled. “Absolute filth.”
“My boy,” Gina sobbed. “My son. Noah!”
“Oh, shut up,” Nick said. He spun on his heel and threw the knife across the room. Before I understood what was happening, the blade lodged itself tip-first in Gina’s throat. Her voice cut out at once and her eyes shot open in shock.
I scrambled backward, unable to look away from Gina as she expired, and slammed into the cabin door. Nick stalked toward me, but as I fumbled for freedom, he sank to one knee with a groan. His bad leg bled through his pants. Somehow, Oliver had wounded him. I pulled the dagger from Gina’s throat then stumbled from the cabin and into the frigid night.
The cabin was buried deep in the woods. I stepped off the porch and into a knee-deep snowbank. Though the forest and the sky was dark, the lights of the King and Queens ski lift shone through the trees. I waded through the snow, keeping my eyes on the lights as if they were stars guiding me home. Riley was somewhere up ahead.
As I neared the bottom of the mountain, I saw Riley’s tiny figure draped over the first chair of the lift. She was unconscious. If the lift jostled her on the way up, she’d slip right out of the chair.
“Riley!” My teeth chattered. Her name came out of my throat in a garbled, desperate yell. “Riley, wake up!”
The unmistakable sound of the lift’s motor started up, and the seats began to chug up the mountain. I let out a yell and doubled my speed. My legs burned as I lifted them above the snow to get to Riley. Right as her chair rounded the bend at the bottom of the hill and began to ascend, I grabbed the safety rail and held on tight. The chair lifted us into the air, sweeping the ground out from beneath my feet. With all of my might, I kicked my legs and pulled myself into the chair. The safety rail prevented me from sitting in it properly, but I looped my legs through the opposite side for a better grip. Riley slumped over the rail, drooling onto the cold metal. I patted her cheek as the lift soared higher into the air.
“Riley,” I muttered. “Come on, kid. You gotta wake up.”
She moaned, and her eyes fluttered open. When the wind kicked up, she shot upward. “Oh my God. What’s going on? Lucia!”
Upon realizing that I was on the wrong side of the safety rail, she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me toward her.
“It’s okay,” I assured her, though nothing felt okay at all. “We’re going to get down from here. We just have to ride the lift to the bottom again.”
“What happened?” she asked. “The last thing I remember is Nick—”
“He drugged you,” I explained, shivering as another gust of wind threatened to dislodge me from my precarious position. I fought to keep my eyes on Riley’s face. If I looked down, the distance to the ground would send me reeling. “He killed your family, Riley. I’m so sorry.”
Riley’s grip on me tightened. “But I still have you, right?”
“Yes. You still have me.”
“Where’s Nick?”
“Probably on his way here,” I admitted.
She glanced over the edge of the lift. “We have to get down.”
The lift groaned and halted as if it meant to thwart Riley’s plan, but I had a terrible feeling that something else was in control. Pressure built in my head as if someone was squeezing it between the palms of their hands. A dark shadow drew my attention to the nearest support column. The demon ghost of Richard Watson—a black mass of nightmares and shadows—crawled upward.
“Riley, don’t look.”
She spun around anyway. “Oh my God. What is that thing?”
“Your grandfather.”
Richard slunk toward us, balancing on the top of the lift chain on all fours like a monstrous cat. His shape was neither human nor animal, but rather a blend of both. As he closed in, I realized he wasn’t made of shadows like I originally thought. The skin itself was black like charcoal. The closer he got, the more my head felt like it would explode. We only had a few moments left. I took Riley’s face between my hands.
“Listen to me, kid,” I told her, focusing on her brown eyes. “I love you, and I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you. If we don’t get out of this—”
“Shut up. I love you too.”
As the wind whipped Riley’s hair around her face, her words connected to me like a battery pack and recharged my psychic energy. The pressure in my head expired as a fresh wave of strength rushed through my body. My legs—cold and numb a moment ago—felt new again. Above us, Richard reached our chair and began to climb down.
“Mine,” he hissed in a voice made of needles. “All mine.”
“In your dreams,” I said back. I pulled Nick’s dagger and launched myself upward, using the safety rail as a jumping off point. I collided with the demon ghost and thrust the knife deep into his abdomen. Richard screamed, and his skin bubbled like lava. The searing heat made my face flush but didn’t hurt me. I pulled the knife free, hoping to sink it into Richard a second time, but he wrapped his fingers around my throat. All at once, the pressure in my head returned as he attacked my mind. This was a mental battle as well as a physical one, and I’d accidentally let my guard down. My brain screamed for relief as he sank the teeth of his energy into mine. I yelled out loud, piercing the surr
ounding mountains with my pain.
“Lucia!” Riley cried from below.
Richard glanced down, distracted by Riley’s shout. I lost my footing on the top of the chair and slipped. Richard caught me before I fell, hugging me to his demonic body like a lover he refused to let go of. I went limp, my mind and body falling to his control. Richard lowered himself to Riley, taking me with him. Riley shuddered as he clung to the safety rail and examined her with his blood-red eyes.
“Pity,” he whispered. “Pretty girl.”
Riley reeled back as he reached for her, but there was nowhere for her to escape his touch. His blackened limbs—something between fingers and claws—grazed Riley’s cheek. She screamed as he left four red-hot lacerations on her face. Her pain reignited my determination. I struggled through the haze in my mind, fighting to balance out my energy. I thought of everything I loved in my life: Riley, Jazmin, and even my mother. I pictured all of us together and happy, enjoying a beautiful sunny day far from Crimson Basin. My head began to clear, but not quickly enough. Richard ripped the safety rail off the ski lift chair and threw it. The twisted metal careened through the air and landed below with a magnificent spray of snow. Riley’s knuckles turned white as she held onto the chair for her life. As Richard reached for her, I thrust the dagger into the back of his neck. It was too late. He already had a hold on Riley. As he roared, head tipping back to compensate for the dagger in his spine, he pulled Riley from the safety of the chair. The three of us tumbled backward, into thin air, and plummeted toward the ground.
The fall happened in slow motion. I spun Richard around so Riley was on top, in a position most likely to help her survive the drop. Then I stabbed Richard over and over, choosing a different sensitive point with each jab. At the same time, I attacked his mind, penetrating the darkness he was made of and piercing it with my own light. The demon shrieked and scrambled to find me. I felt his influence in my head. He poked and prodded at whatever part of my brain housed my psychic energy, but I stayed strong. The thought of saving Riley kept Richard out of my head. I caught sight of her terrified face as we neared the ground. Focusing on Riley, I thrust the dagger into Richard’s chest where his heart should’ve been.
