Haunted By The Succubus

by Michelle Dorey

  “It was... a demon?”

  “Some kind of demon, yes. When they refuse to give you their name, it’s a dead giveaway.” Her eyes rolled and she beat me to the punch. “No pun intended.”

  “So what do we do now? Give up on this Jarrod guy?”

  She nodded. “For the time being. I’ll keep trying to coax him from the shadows but as far as this bloody board goes, we’ll wait until the energy in this house has been rejuvenated.” She gazed over at Lawrence who was still waving the smudge through the air, walking around the room. “That’s what Lawrence is doing now, Keira. The sage smudge is something I picked up from Native lore. It helps to cleanse the atmosphere of negative energy.”

  Lawrence pulled the drapes open, letting in more light from the gray day outside. Even so, the room seemed glum and heavy.

  “Can we go back to the sunroom now?” There were things I wanted to know about these demons but asking them in here didn’t appeal to me.

  “One moment, Keira.” Lawrence walked over and held the smudge high. “Stand up and let this cleanse you.”

  I got to my feet and stepped closer to him. His hand gently fluttered the bundle of smoldering embers. Like incense, the gray mist floated over my body and face. He ended at my toes and then turned to GM. For a moment, I wished it was marijuana. Getting a buzz would take the edge off for sure.

  When Lawrence was done with GM, we headed back into the sunroom. Just entering the room made it easier to breathe. I could see why it was her favorite spot in the house. We both sat at the small table where we usually sat together, and Lawrence leaned against the entranceway.

  I had to ask. “Where are these demons from, GM? You say you don’t know if there’s a hell, so where did they come from?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve come to believe they are beings which battle the forces of nature.”

  “Forces of nature?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Nature is order, harmony and love. And the greatest of these is love. These beasts are chaos, conflict and fear. Their greatest weapon is fear. They’re the ones of the spirit realm who wish to weaken The Veil because they crave chaos.” She held up her finger to make a point. “They feed on fear, Keira. That’s why it’s important to go beyond your fear. You have to remember you are at one with the universe; all that is good. That will be the source of your strength.”

  I nodded. “I will, GM.”

  She looked past me to where Lawrence was standing at the passageway into the sunroom. They silently stared for a moment, and nodded in unison. Turning back to me, she took a deep breath. “How did you feel when we used the Ouija board? Think about your answer for a minute.”

  I sat back and looked down at my lap for a little while. “It was frightening, even with the litany.”

  “It would have been much more so without the litany. It’s a litany, Keira; not a magic spell. Go on.”

  “I sensed the air change when that thing, whatever it was, started shoving that planchette around. I could feel a rage. It really didn’t want us trying to help Jarrod.” I blinked rapidly. “He’s a prisoner to that thing.”

  She nodded. “Yes. It’s going to be a battle to help that poor soul. He was a weak man when he lived and he never changed.”

  “Who was he? What do you know about him?”

  “I managed to do some research. Back in the nineteen twenties, he was a crafty weasel. He was a bootlegger, but he was also an informer to the police. He played both sides against each other for his own profit.”

  “Oh. A Wall Street broker, you mean?”

  She flashed a quick smile. “Well, he was as much a scoundrel as they are, there’s no doubt of that. But he and his colleagues were murderous thugs, Keira. He took part in several killings; then framed an innocent man who was hanged.”

  “And you want to help him?”

  She was silent for a moment. “I want to protect The Veil,” she finally said. “Look, dear—we’re all sinners to one degree or another. We’re also saints. Yes, Jarrod did those things. But he also looked after people he didn’t have to. He provided for several families who lost husbands—fathers— in the Great War.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m not,” and she pointed at me, “nor are you, in a position to be a judge of this man’s soul. I have a calling to protect The Veil.”

  “I understand GM; this is bigger than Jarrod.”

  The picture of a weasely, thinly built man, his beard rough and unkempt, with long stringy hair flashed in my mind. I gazed at GM and she nodded. That was the guy we were trying to help?

  “Everyone needs help, Keira. Even Jarrod. But it’s The Veil we must defend.”

  TWENTY ONE

  FIVE MINUTES LATER, I pulled into Gwen’s driveway, parking behind her truck. The rain had really picked up; by the time I got to her front porch I was soaked. I knocked on the door and waited.

  Nobody answered, so I knocked again, louder. After the third time, her dad pulled it open.

  “Keira! What a pleasant surprise.” Leaning on his walker, he stepped aside and bade me to come in. As he closed the door, he looked down the hallway and back at me, his smile faltering.

  “Were you at the door long?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I had to knock three times. It’s no big deal, I mean with the storm—”

  He cut me off. “A couple of minutes ago, Buster jumped up, started whining like crazy and took off out the back door of the house.” Devon stared at me like I was a specimen. “I don’t know how he managed to do it, but he opened the latch on the screen door with his snout and took off out to the backyard. He’s standing against the back fence and won’t come in. I came back in to get Gwen when I heard you knocking.” He looked back again toward the rear of the house, let out a small sigh and turned back to me. “He’s never done that before; he always knew when someone pulled into the driveway and would start barking at the front door.” He held my eyes.

  “Yeah... that is weird, isn’t it?” I said weakly.

  “Buster’s afraid of you.”

  I bit my lower lip. “I know,” I mumbled.

  “I mean, really afraid of you.”

  I looked down at the floor. “Yeah.” I raised my eyes. “Dogs never liked me, but lately it’s gotten worse.” I shrugged. “Maybe I should use a different shampoo or something?” I tried to smile at my totally lame excuse and failed.

  Devon looked toward the back of the house again. “Well, he’ll come in when he’s ready, I guess,” he said. “He’ll be soaking wet, but it’s not cold out and that’s where he wants to be... for now.” He turned back to me. “You left your phone in the bathroom.”

  “Thanks. Can I talk to Gwen?”

  His head turned and he yelled. “Hey Gwen! Keira’s here for her phone!”

  Grinning, she came downstairs, holding my cell phone. “I was going to drive over to your place with this when the rain stopped.”

  I shoved it into my pocket. “Instead of coming for lunch, how would you like to come for dinner tomorrow night? GM and Lawrence asked if you’d join us for dinner.”

  She looked over at her father. His hand arced in the air and he turned. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll throw a pizza in the oven and catch the Jays game.”

  Gwen turned back to me. “What time? I’d love to! Dinner beats lunch, any old day.” She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

  There was a guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach. She didn’t know she was interviewing for Lawrence’s job. How much could I actually tell her? “Just a Coke.” I hung my jacket up and toed my sneakers before following her to the kitchen.

  As I passed by the living room, where Gwen’s dad was now getting settled in his usual chair, I glanced in the corner where I’d seen her mother the day before. But there was no sign of her.

  I took a seat at the table and waited for Gwen to finish pouring a large bottle of Coke into two glasses. “So... am I going to meet those ghosts? Molly and Sam?”

  She got righ
t to it. “No... they’re gone.”

  She made a small frown. “That’s pretty convenient. You tell me about ghosts in that place, and just before I come over, they’ve gone.”

  I snorted, thinking of the episode with Jarrod. Convenient wasn’t the word I was thinking of. “Sorry to disappoint you.” I pointed my chin at her. “What would you ever do if you actually saw one?”

  She leaned forward and her eyes became wide. “Are you kidding me? That would be the most awesome thing.” Her smile faded. “I wish sometimes, I could see my mother.”

  It was the perfect opening for me. My voice lowered, despite the din of the TV in the background. “What would you say if I told you I saw your mother here yesterday?” I watched her closely. But her eyes weren’t shocked, just a little sad.

  She was silent for a few beats before she spoke, “If it wasn’t for what happened yesterday beside the pool when you read my mind or something, I wouldn’t believe you... but, I do. I’ve felt her presence but I’ve never actually seen her. I envy you that ability.”

  I blew softly from puffed-out cheeks, my eyes on the glass in front of me. “It’s only happened since I’ve been with my grandmother. She’s sensitive about these things and it seems I’ve inherited it. And her house... if anything supernatural was going to happen, believe me that house would bring it out.” I took a sip of the pop. “You said so yourself, that house has mystical properties.”

  She nodded and sat down opposite me. “Yeah, it does. I don’t know about your grandmother, but that rose blooming in the dead of winter is something off the wall, that’s for sure.” The flecks of her eyes were green in spots, rimmed by long dark eyelashes, devoid of any makeup. With the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, she was the poster child for the girl next door.

  I shook my head. “Ghosts in a bedroom? Flowers blooming in January? That doesn’t freak you out?” If anyone had told me this a few weeks ago, I would have been freaked out. Now, it was just another day at GM’s curiosity house.

  She slapped the table lightly with her hand. “Are you kidding me? That would be fascinating!”

  “More fascinated than scared? This stuff scares people, Gwen.”

  “Not me.” She chuckled. “Maybe I’m too stupid to be scared.”

  “Yeah, right. I think too curious.”

  She eyed me. “I think there’s something going on with you and your grandmother and I’d like to find out more.”

  I smiled, sipping my drink. That was one hurdle crossed. The interest and lack of fear was one thing but... what about her father? If I did take this up, and take over for GM, would Gwen be free to come with me?

  God! Look at me! I was already planning a career with this!

  More and more, my thoughts were turning to accepting the mantle from GM. Had I already made up my mind?

  TWENTY TWO

  I WAS WAITING FOR GWEN in the parlor when the doorbell rang. I didn’t want to take the chance that Lawrence would greet her stiffly, so I called to the back of the house, “I got it!” before he could appear.

  I swung the heavy oak door open and my jaw dropped.

  Gwen stood there in heels and makeup. Her girl-next-door natural look was elevated to a downright charming level. Even her hair was loose, the dark mane flowing over the shoulders of a light-lime-green linen dress which ended a couple of inches above her knee.

  She noticed my eyes boggling and did a quick twirl. “I hope I didn’t overdo it. You did say your grandmother likes to gussy up for dinner.”

  “You nailed it, don’t worry.” Even so, I felt a little shabby in my jean skirt and top.

  Stepping into the entrance hall, she gave her head a small shake. “I can’t remember the last time I got dressed up to go to someone’s house for dinner.” She looked over to me. “Dates at restaurants? Sure. Weddings and such? Absolutely. But doing this to visit with my neighbors? That’s a new one.”

  I nodded as I shut the door behind her. “It’s been dressing for dinner every night since I arrived.” I glanced back toward where the living room was. “And I’ll bet GM has been doing it all along. Pretty Old School, huh?”

  She made a small shrug. “I don’t know... I think it’s kind of elegant. Making a thing out of sharing a meal every night... it’s kind of cool, don’t you think?”

  I scoffed. “You do it every night, and we’ll see.”

  She laughed lightly. “You might have a point, but I’d sure love to find out.”

  “I don’t know, Gwen; I think those genteel times are kind of gone with the wind.”

  Before she could reply, Lawrence appeared from the living room archway. “Gwen, isn’t it? It’s nice to meet you instead of just seeing you on your route.” He took her hand and even did a slight bow as he smiled at her. “I’m Lawrence Brady, Mrs. York’s assistant.”

  “How do you do,” she replied. “It’s nice of you and Mrs. York to invite me. I’ve always admired this house and wondered what it would be like inside. I never imagined I’d be invited here for dinner.”

  His hand extended pointing the way to the living room. “This way, please. Mrs. York is in the living room.”

  I led the way to where GM was seated on the large sofa. We crossed over to her and I made introductions.

  “Thank you for asking me to dinner, Mrs. York. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

  Taking in Gwen’s outfit, GM smiled and nodded. “It’s nice to meet Keira’s friend, even though we’ve obviously seen you around. Would you care for a drink? Lawrence makes a mean gimlet.”

  Gwen looked nervous as she answered, “Do you have beer? I’m afraid I’m not much of a liquor fan. I developed a taste for beer in university and now that’s all I drink.”

  At GM’s sharp jerk of her head backwards, Gwen spoke again, her words tumbling all over themselves. “I mean, that’s not all I drink. I drink water and pop and well—”

  GM laughed lightly. “I know what you meant, dear.” She turned to Lawrence. “We have beer in the fridge, don’t we?”

  “Yes, of course.” He walked out of the room.

  GM patted the seat on the sofa beside her. “Please sit down, Gwen,” She held her glass out to me. “Would you mind topping me up, dear?” As I poured a drink for myself and GM, she continued, “Keira tells me you studied to be a physicist?”

  “Yes. I was doing graduate work when my dad became ill. To be honest, I actually like what I’m doing now. My evenings and weekends are my own, with no papers to write or any lab work. I mean, aside from taking care of Dad.”

  “Your father is ill?”

  Handing GM her fresh drink, I sat in the armchair beside them. I was positive GM knew everything about Gwen’s dad, and watched the interplay between them.

  Gwen nodded. “Yes. He’s had MS for years, but when my mother passed away three years ago he had a terrible episode. He was hospitalized for a month. When he was released, I had already suspended my studies and had gotten on full time with the post office.”

  “Oh my poor dear.” GM reached out and stroked Gwen’s shoulder. She turned to me and arched an eyebrow. “How sad, Keira,” she said aloud. ‘This could be a problem for you dear’ echoed in my head.

  “He didn’t seem too ill when I saw him,” I said.

  “I know,” said Gwen. “The attacks—they call them relapses—come out of nowhere. Sometimes he just gets worn down, but he’s collapsed a couple of times.”

  Lawrence came in and passed her a pilsner glass filled with beer. She took it and took a deep sip while he took a seat.

  “That must be hard on you, dear. When I was your age, I liked to travel... see the world. But I suppose, for you...” GM’s voice trailed off but she watched Gwen closely.

  Gwen sat primly on the sofa, her long legs folded together to the side. “Oh, I manage to get away every now and then. Just last year I went to the States on a sightseeing tour of Civil War mansions. My brother Sean stays with Dad.”

  I glanced at Lawren
ce and GM. Gwen wasn’t as tied to her routine as they’d thought. “Old houses? You would pass up the beach to see a bunch of old houses?”

  Gwen snorted. “Seen one beach, you’ve seen ‘em all as far as I’m concerned.” She looked around the living room. “Older homes have… character.” She looked to GM and continued. “Like this house. It’s almost as big as some of the plantation homes I visited, you know. I’ll bet there are stories that these walls could tell us if they could speak.”

  The two of them gazed at each other silently for a moment. Finally, GM smiled sweetly. “What sort of stories do you suppose, dear?”

  Gwen glanced over to me and back at GM before speaking. “Well, for one thing, did you know its history when you bought it, Mrs. York?” Without waiting for an answer she continued, “Did you know it once harbored a rumrunner? The guy’s body was found in the cellar. The police never knew if his death was suicide or if he was murdered.”

  GM’s smile dropped like a stone when she looked across at Gwen. “I’ve come to know of that. You are a student of local history, then? I know the house has a reputation for being a bit... odd.”