The hands grabbed her easily and suddenly disappeared, satisfied with their fresh catch. Then the shadow slid away and climbed through the hole in the wall, and the elevator began to descend.
And I had lost Freya.
Chapter Fourteen—Alex
Before Sylvia even stepped outside, I knew she’d been defeated. A grinning Dan Petit smoked his cigarette and watched us serenely from the upper window. He’d won the battle. Sylvia’s sagging shoulders did not convey confidence. I knew this had been a bad idea.
“He is still there,” I said sourly even as the ghost flickered out of sight.
“Yes, he is still there. You know who it is, then?”
“That’s Dan Petit, or at least whoever it is wants me to believe it is Dan Petit. He and Joanna Storm had a very…complicated relationship. Megan can tell you all about him. He’s on the top floor; I saw him.”
“No doubt you would see him, as you have abilities too. But there’s no time to teach you. I want you two to come to my cottage. It’s not good for you to stay here. He’s collecting souls; he wants both of yours. No going back now. Not until we’ve seen this through. And we will see it through. I promise.”
“Sylvia, what is it?” Megan put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “What happened?”
“He’s captured Freya. She’s one of my spirit guides and my best friend. He has her now; she tried to intervene, to help me. She did it for me, but I could not help her.” Sylvia put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. She was clearly upset by all this. I didn’t believe what she said about me being a sensitive, but I did believe that Dan Petit had frightened her. Hell, he frightened me.
“Alex, maybe we should take Sylvia home,” Megan suggested somberly. “Let’s call it a day.”
“Sure, we’ll take my car. I’ll go get the keys and be right back out. Do you need anything from the house?”
“My purse and my hospital bag, just in case.” Her smile was sad and kind of defeated. I hated to see it. “They are in the bedroom, on the floor next to the bed.”
As I walked back into Morgan’s Rock, I was surprised at the emotions I began to experience. I thought I’d be fearful, afraid, maybe too afraid to go inside, but I wasn’t. More than anything, I was pissed. I was so angry that I could have broken every dish in the damn china cabinet. I could have torn the doors off the cabinets. I was so angry that I could have set this whole damn place on fire. That’s it! That would be the perfect solution.
If I burned this sonofabitch to the ground, you would have to let them go, oh Danny Boy. Wouldn’t you? You couldn’t keep them without your precious elevator.
Suddenly he was there, standing at the foot of the stairs. I glanced over my shoulder. Megan and Sylvia were walking away from the house and toward the car. Dan glared at me. I hissed at him, “You are dead, you bastard. Dead! You hear me?”
Not too dead…Alexander. Did she tell you the truth, old man? Perhaps I should tell you…
Hearing him whisper my name made me want to puke. So did the smell of the place. It smelled like rotten meat now, like everything unspeakable, like death. But as quickly as I smelled it, the odor was gone. I gagged as I clutched the countertop, and Dan Petit grinned at my distress.
Not too dead. Not dead at all.
“What do you want? Why are you here?”
His smiling image disappeared, like he’d been sucked out of the room. Like he’d been made of air and someone had opened a window. The air felt electric around me, as if people were fighting, only I couldn’t see them. I could hear bits and pieces of a deadly conversation, but it lasted only a few seconds. Then Dan’s face returned, and he stared at me from the kitchen window.
Had someone banished him from the kitchen? I grinned at the sight, but then I realized he was outside—with Megan!
“What do you want?”
What’s mine. I want what is mine.
“I don’t know what that is.” I reached for Megan’s purse and my keys. Thank God they weren’t in the bedroom. I didn’t think I could make it that far. Forget the hospital bag. I wasn’t going any further into the house. Not with him so close to Megan, so close to my wife.
What about the other one? You called her here, and I kept her for you. Don’t you want to see her? Let’s trade, Alexander. A wife for a wife.
“What do you mean?” Did I really want to know the answer to that? I knew what the dead freak was intimating.
Give her to me. Take her to the elevator. As soon as she steps on board, I’ll give you what you truly want. Two for two, my good man. I want both of them!
“What are you…you can’t have Megan. Or the baby! That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want the baby. Let me tell you something, you bastard. You aren’t going to have them. Neither of them!”
She did not tell you. He smiled and appeared to laugh, but no sound came out of his mouth. You are cuckolded, old boy. She loved him, you know. They always love him. And his sneaky smile vanished. His eyes were two black pits, and I heard him growl, low and deep. I didn’t know what he meant, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out. I ran for the kitchen door and slammed it behind me. I didn’t bother locking it. I prayed to God that if someone were fool enough to break in, perhaps they would burn it to the ground for me. Maybe. Anything was possible. But if they didn’t, if nobody set this place ablaze, I would do it myself. I would!
I avoided Megan’s questioning eyes as I handed her the purse, and thankfully she didn’t ask me about the overnight bag. I wasn’t going back in there, and if I had anything to say about it, she wouldn’t be either. Sylvia gave us directions to her house but didn’t say much else. None of us spoke the entire ride. It wasn’t until I pulled the car into Sylvia’s shell driveway that I breathed a sigh of relief.
No, we weren’t going back. Ever.
Chapter Fifteen—Sylvia
“How about something to drink? Soda or some water, perhaps?” I asked as we sat down around my kitchen table. How to begin this incredible conversation? It would be incredible to Alex, at least. Funny how the gifted folks were often the least open to it. Too bad…I could use his help closing that vortex. It would most certainly have to be closed. Who else could I call? Benoit moved to Texas. Barbara rarely left her house anymore. Too many of my sensitive friends had died recently, and I’d failed to see the importance of mentoring the young. That had been a shocking failure. But you know what they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Alex, though…I could use his help, if he would agree to it.
“None for me. Please, tell us what you saw. We need to know—I need to understand what is going on at Morgan’s Rock.” Megan’s face was practically gray. Her blond hair was sweaty and limp, plastered around her frightened face. I still had no idea how to begin this conversation, and my grief over the loss of Freya—it had to be a temporary loss, whatever the case was—had to be pushed aside for now. Surely she wasn’t gone forever. The memory of seeing her throw herself in the fray to save me brought tears to my eyes.
“Please don’t cry, Sylvia. Talk to us.”
Freya…I haven’t left you, my friend. I heard nothing. I closed my eyes. I had to tell the truth about what I knew. These were two very nice people living in a very active house. It was bad for them, so very bad. And my dear Freya…she was trapped in that horrible place.
“The energy in your home is extraordinarily and heavily concentrated on that top floor, and there is a portal in the wall. The strongest entity, currently, is a male entity. He’s capturing weaker spirits and forcing them into that portal. It’s like a holding cell.”
“You mean the elevator?” Alex asked in a ragged voice. “That’s some kind of portal? Why is he doing that?”
I tapped my eyes with the tissue Megan handed me. “Presumably he is collecting them and using their energy. He has big plans, but he can’t do it with just his own energy. He’s crafty, even though he isn’t very strong by himself.”
Megan shook her head. “He’s strong enough to have accomplish
ed this. Has that portal always been there? Not that it really matters, I guess.”
“I don’t think so. At least it’s not a natural portal. This portal, the one we are currently dealing with, is probably best described as a vortex. They’re different phenomena.”
“What’s the difference?” Megan sounded confused.
“Portals usually appear naturally, when the veil of this world is thin and easy to penetrate from one side or the other. Or in powerful examples, both sides can penetrate it. With a vortex, it’s not natural but created by the twisting of energy. And the twisting of energy is created by momentum; an agent has to be involved, either living or dead.”
“Dead. Dan Petit. His name is…”
“Don’t say his name again, Alex. I know who he is. Please. He’s fixated on you already, and if you keep saying his name, if he’s strong enough, he will find you. Despite all my protections.”
“Wait. Da—I mean, he is fixated on Alex? Why?”
And here’s where it gets sticky. The hardest part of my job is telling people what they don’t want to hear. Things were dire for the Wagners, and now for me too.
“I can’t say why for sure except you have some level of natural ability, Alex, and he sees you as a potential ally.”
“I’d never help that bastard. He’s got me all wrong,” Alex said as he tapped the table with the palm of his hand.
Megan took his hand in hers. “What’s this about Alex having abilities?”
“Undeveloped abilities, yes. Let me ask you something. Do you feel angry at times for no apparent reason? Especially in that house? Do you do things and wonder why you do them?” Alex’s stunned expression told me what I wanted to know. He had experienced all of that. “You’re being influenced because you have abilities. You can’t hear clearly, not unless you really focus, but you hear well enough to be influenced. You’re one of those people that needs to develop, at least so you can manage it all. But I’m guessing you knew that. How does it work for you?”
Megan clearly knew nothing about her husband’s spiritual talents, though I could tell by Alex’s behavior that he knew exactly what I was talking about. But he’d done as I suspected and suppressed everything. That’s the way it was with some folks.
“It started when I was really young. I couldn’t say at what age I had my first encounter with a ghost. What’s strange is my parents built the house I grew up in. There shouldn’t have been any ghosts there, but I saw plenty of them. And at school. Even at college. Over the years, I got better at ignoring them. Much better, even though they still tried to talk to me. Eventually, I stopped seeing them altogether.”
“Until now,” I added sadly.
“Yes, until now.”
Megan whimpered a bit and went even paler.
“Meggie? What is it?”
“I’m not feeling so hot. And no, I don’t want to go back to the hospital.” She was on her feet and holding her stomach with her free hand.
I immediately went to her side. “I know where you can rest. I have a nice comfy bed just beyond the doorway there. That’s what you need, to prop your feet up. Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” She was rubbing her very pregnant stomach and focusing on her breathing. “Are you having contractions?”
“Not at the moment, but I do have a little back pain. I think you’re right. I think I should lie down for a little while. Thank you, Sylvia, for being so good to us.”
Alex joined us in the bedroom, and we got Megan squared away. I managed to talk her into accepting a small tray of crackers and a glass of iced water. She nibbled on them for a few minutes, and I turned the bedroom television on low to comfort her and hopefully to muffle the conversation that I intended to have with her husband.
Megan was in no shape to do battle with the spirits at Morgan’s Rock. She was in no shape to stand up to the evil spirit that was causing the vortex. And besides that, she did not have the abilities that Alex did.
But the two of us…
We could do it—I had to try for Freya’s sake. I could not leave her there! Even with Alex’s inexperience, even with his retarded growth, he was strong enough to help me weaken the power of that vortex if not seal it altogether.
You are being far too hopeful, Sylvia.
Go away, Mother. If you aren’t going to help me, what are you doing here?
As the coffeemaker brewed, Alex sat down at the kitchen table again and we picked up our conversation in hushed tones.
“Tell me this is something that we can fix. Or do we just need to leave? Thankfully, we have options,” he said as I put the coffee cups on the table along with some sugar and creamer.
I sat down and sighed deeply. Okay, here’s where the rubber meets the road. Time to tell the truth now.
“I’m not sure. Honestly. But I need your help, just as you need mine. I am heartbroken over the loss of Freya. This has never happened before. She didn’t want me to go see you. She warned me for days. She begged me not to go, but I wouldn’t listen. I don’t regret what I did, but I do regret leaving my friend and spirit guide at Morgan’s Rock. I have to go back for her; I have to try to free her. And with any luck, I’ll free the others. But I’m going to need your help to do either one of those things. This entity is strong, angry and bent on… No. It’s not revenge. It’s something else, but I’ve never encountered this kind of behavior before. It’s as if he thinks you have something that belongs to him. Like you stole something from him.”
Alex’s jaw dropped for a moment, and I could see that he was a broken man. He was more than a handsome face and a flashy smile. There was a depth to him that I might have found attractive had I been thirty years younger. Yes, he did remind me of my late husband a little bit. Maybe that’s why I felt such sympathy for him. Get your head in the game, Sylvia. There will be time for reminiscing later. If you’re lucky.
I urged him, “You have to tell me what you know. When you went back inside, you saw him, didn’t you? Remember, don’t say his name, but tell me what he said to you and what you saw. Anything you tell me could help us defeat him.”
Alex glanced toward the door to make sure that Megan wasn’t coming out. I could hear her soft snoring in the other room. That was good; she didn’t need to be involved in any of this. I poured the coffee and waited for him to share his experience. To my surprise, he didn’t talk about the house. He needed to get some things off his chest, I supposed. I patiently listened.
“My freshman year in college, I met a young woman named Julie. She was a sophomore. Although I fell for her hard early on, it took me a while to propose. I just wanted to be sure everything was right for us. For our family. Julie had a son named Zachary. He was very young when we got married, and he had some challenges.”
“What kind of challenges?” I asked as I stirred the creamer into my coffee.
“We weren’t sure at first. He would go for weeks without talking, and when he did speak it was always something odd. It didn’t take long for the pediatrician to diagnose him as autistic. Zachary was at times a loving child and at other times very reserved, but no matter his mood, Zach always needed your attention. You had to watch him to make sure he didn’t wander out of the house or put himself in harm’s way. I found him hanging out an open window once. He wanted to fly. That was terrifying. I had to nail the windows shut in his room. But the week that it happened…the week they died, I had midterms coming up. It was my senior year.” He sipped his coffee and looked away.
I touched his arm. “What happened next, Alex?”
“That weekend, I studied hard and actually got done early. I felt terrible that I had been so short with both of them. But Julie understood. I had an important midterm to take the following Monday, and we both knew I had to ace it if I was going to make the cut in the class. Our professor graded on a bell curve, but I guess that’s beside the point now. Anyway, Julie and Zach went up to the cabin. Her parents had a cabin, more like a fish camp, really. It was near a small, quiet lake. Th
ere was a cold snap that weekend, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to be there with Julie and Zach. I got my studies done early and decided to surprise the two of them up at the camp. I drove up and didn’t bother to call because again, I wanted it to be a surprise. I’d been a real jerk to her about having my ‘quiet time,’ so I bought flowers to apologize. Peach roses—they were her favorite. And I bought some Ho Ho’s for Zachary. When I got to the cabin, they were asleep in their beds, which was weird because it was late in the day. Julie had always been an early riser, and Zach wasn’t one to let you sleep late.”
“They sound lovely.”
He sighed deeply. “They were. Carbon monoxide poisoning…that’s what the death certificate says. I lost them both. I was being a selfish bastard, and I lost them.”
I put my cup down. My heart was breaking for this man that I hardly knew. He clearly had not dealt with this grief appropriately, and I suspected that had aided in the manifestation that now haunted him and his new wife.
“Megan never asked about Julie, and I just assumed she knew about her and Zach. I mean, they were such a part of me for so long that I just assumed…but I guess that was wrong. No, I don’t have to guess. It was wrong. I should’ve told Megan about Julie, but I can’t believe that Julie would want to harm us—neither would Zach. Especially Zach. He wouldn’t harm a fly. All he cared about was playing. We were just visitors in his world, you know.”
I didn’t say anything for a long while. I was thinking about the child, the fear in his eyes at losing his balloon. He was perpetually chasing it; he clearly still wanted to play and had no clue that he was dead.
“The man…I can’t say his name…he made me a deal, Sylvia. He offered me a trade.”
The hair all over my body crept up, and a sickening feeling welled up in the pit of my stomach. You are about to hear something horrible.
“Really? What kind of deal?”
The Haunting at Morgan's Rock Page 29
