So Fell The Sparrow

by Katie Jennings

  Ian sighed, tossing up his hands in exasperation. “I’m sorry, Grace. That was out of line.”

  “Yeah man, it was,” Alex agreed, eyeing Ian strangely.

  Grace softened her stance, though her expression remained cold. “Apology accepted. So, what do we do now?”

  “There’s a body buried in the basement,” Jackie piped in, earning stunned looks from the others.

  “How do you know that?” Grace asked.

  “I could sense it.”

  Alex looked deeply concerned. “Jackie mentioned it to me after she came out of the basement.”

  Ian considered this for a moment, then turned to Grace again. “We need to dig it up.”

  Alarm flashed over her face. “Excuse me? Last I checked this was still my house. You don’t get to call the shots around here, I do. And I say no digging.”

  “But if there is a body down there, that could explain the activity,” Ian began impatiently. “We could end this once and for all if we remove it from the house.”

  “I don’t care. I won’t let you excavate my property just because some crackpot ghost whisperer thinks she sensed a fucking body,” Grace fired back. “I can’t believe I’m even listening to this.”

  “Open your goddamn eyes, Doc,” Ian growled. “The solution is staring you right in the face.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re just going to have to figure out a different way.” Grace stood firm.

  Ian kept his mouth wisely shut, while Alex turned to Jackie.

  “Is this man, creature, thing, dangerous? Maybe Grace should come stay at the hotel for a while.”

  Jackie nodded. “He is very dangerous.”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “I can’t leave the house.”

  “Maybe you should consider it,” Ian decided.

  “No,” Grace shot back. “I won’t.”

  “Why not?” he asked, concerned at the terrified look that came over her face.

  A laugh bubbled out of her throat, though she felt no humor. Only a manic form of distress. “I don’t know, but I can’t leave. I tried, I can’t.”

  Ian’s brow creased as Jackie suddenly spoke up. “I’ll stay.”

  They all looked at her.

  “You’ll stay here?” Alex asked, before turning to Ian. “Maybe we should stay, too.”

  “Oh, no.” Grace shook her head. “This is not a sleepover.”

  Ian rolled his eyes. “Shut up. We’re staying. We won’t leave you in this house alone.”

  She blinked at the finality in his voice, wondering when she had lost all authority over her own house. “I don’t have beds for any of you.”

  “We have sleeping bags. Jackie’ll take the couch,” Alex decided. “Loosen up a bit, Grace. It’ll be fun.”

  “Maybe a glass of wine will help?” Jackie ventured, rising to her feet. She smiled warmly at Grace, her hand extended in an offering of peace.

  Grace let out a frustrated huff of breath, unsure why she felt so relieved at the thought of not being alone anymore. Since when had that been the case?

  She accepted Jackie’s hand and let herself be guided away. As she passed by Ian, she sent him a warning glance.

  “This is still my house, buddy. If I decide you have to go, then that’s it.”

  Ian cracked a smile. “You won’t.”

  She rolled her eyes and cursed him for his ability to both get on her nerves and charm the hell out of her at the same time.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Her dreams horrified her.

  Grace saw the things Jackie claimed to see and more. Faceless men and women forcing their way through the walls, shadows scuttling over the floor like giant spiders, hands reaching up for her from under the bed.

  Everywhere she looked, some part of the house was attacking her. Claiming her like a possession to be taken, not embraced. Forced, not welcomed. It was a beast hell bent on swallowing her whole, and she had no chance of escape. No hope of survival.

  Her imagination went wild, riding on the fear and the stress of having strange people barge their way into her life. People she was forced to trust with her property, her time, her well-being. Her options had only narrowed in scope the longer she stayed in the Sparrow House. The longer she let the house grab hold of her and tighten its stranglehold grip.

  She tossed and turned in her bed, the nightmares extraordinarily vivid. The shadow of a man stood in the corner of her room, black as night and just as sinister. He—it—rocked side-to-side in an eerily threatening motion, as if preparing for the instant to strike.

  The instant to kill.

  Grace bolted awake, her eyes flying open. Tears tracked hot lines down her cheeks. She clutched at her throat, choking back the scream that strangled her. Her eyes shot to the corner of the room and saw nothing. Relief flooded through her, loosening her tightened muscles and soothing her aching heart.

  With a heavy, cleansing sigh, she fell back against her pillows and tried desperately to relax and forget the nightmares. They had been so real. If there was any ounce of truth to Jackie’s claims, then it was amazing the woman wasn’t mad. Or maybe she was, and she just had a terrific way of concealing it.

  Because Grace knew if she had to walk around every day witnessing those things, she would rather die than live another second. It was too horrible to bear.

  After a few minutes of trying to fall back asleep and finding it pointless, Grace shoved aside the twisted blankets and sheets and got out of bed. There was milk in the fridge and she knew it would help calm her. It was an insomnia remedy her father had always sworn by.

  As she got to her feet, she noticed that the window was open. Like before, there was a sparrow perched on the sill, watching her.

  She froze, her eyes on the bird as it angled its head, its beady eyes shining in the moonlight. It continued to stare at her silently, almost like a sentient guardian come to protect her. When she moved toward it, the bird flew off into the night.

  Unsure what was happening or why, Grace shut the window and latched it again, then rubbed her eyes. Once she could rationalize as her own forgetfulness. But twice?

  She didn’t want to give the event more meaning than it deserved, so she pushed it to the back of her mind. Most likely, one of the others had left the window open at some point during the day and she just hadn’t noticed.

  She clung to that possibility as she left the room and tiptoed down the stairs, trying not to wake the others who were fast asleep in the living room. She heard manly snores and shook her head, annoyed that they could sleep so soundly. It wasn’t fair.

  She flipped on the kitchen light, hoping it wouldn’t disturb them, and carefully opened the refrigerator door to get the milk. As she poured herself a glass, she heard footsteps behind her.

  She jerked around with a small yelp, only to see Ian standing in the kitchen.

  “Boo.” He chuckled, approaching her and reaching over her head into the cabinet for a fresh glass. He pried the milk carton from her hand and poured some into her glass and his.

  Grace sighed, still anxious after seeing the sparrow. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Not surprising after what went on earlier this evening,” he replied, returning the milk to the fridge. He grabbed his glass and sipped, then leaned his hip comfortably against the counter. “Are you doing okay?”

  “Define okay.” She tried to keep her voice down so as not to wake the others. “I have three strangers in my house, ghosts in the basement, furniture that’s possessed, and an increasingly overactive imagination that refuses to let me sleep.”

  “We strangers are only here because we want to help you.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Right, because you aren’t getting anything out of this investigation but charitable feelings.”

  “We live to give.”

  When he smiled, she sipped her milk and tried to casually get a good look at him. He’d slipped on a nicely fitted black T-shirt and blue flannel pajama pants, giving him an unusually relaxed look. Pa
ired with his lightly mussed length of hair and sleepy blue eyes, he was almost handsome. Almost normal.

  Grace caught herself, and bit her lower lip as she considered this new revelation. Though she hated to admit it, she was attracted to him. As much as he pissed her off and got under her skin, it was a welcome relief to at least feel something other than misery and desolation.

  She knew she should enjoy it while it lasted. Soon they’d all be gone and she would need to pick up the pieces of her life.

  “So, what’s your story? How did you get into chasing after ghosts?” Grace asked.

  “Alex and I have been into the paranormal for as long as I can remember.” Ian shrugged. “I didn’t think of it as a career until my life took me down that path. I witnessed something that changed my perception of everything, and the next day I quit my day job and focused all I had on hunting down evidence of what I saw.”

  “What did you see?”

  Sentiment brightened Ian’s eyes. “I saw the ghost of my grandfather walking through his home, just days after he died. He passed right in front of me in the hallway, then disappeared. I think he was searching for my grandmother, but she wasn’t home.” He paused, running a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. “It was the most incredible thing I have ever witnessed.”

  Grace stared at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, any hint that he was lying. She didn’t find it. Instead, she saw more honesty and passion in him than she had ever seen before.

  Shaken, she looked away from his face. Instead, she reached for his right hand and admired the tattoo over his fingers. He had the letters G.A.P.C. in bold black letters, one on each knuckle. Great American Paranormal Crew.

  “You’re very dedicated to this stuff,” she mused, tracing her thumb over the ink that marred his skin. “But I think you take yourself too seriously.”

  He didn’t realize he was holding his breath, paralyzed by the feel of her touch. She had such strong, capable hands, not delicate like he had expected. He got the impression that before coming to Mad Rock Harbor, she had lived each day saving lives with those hands.

  The corner of his mouth lifted as she glanced up at him, and he subtly inched closer to her. The soft yellow glow of the kitchen light brightened her eyes, chasing away the clouds in all that gray. The beauty of it caught him completely off guard. “I take myself seriously because I expect the best of myself.”

  “Perhaps humility would soften you up a bit,” she said, her heart skipping at the dark intensity that sparked in his gaze.

  “You should be giving yourself that same advice.”

  He was surprised when she laughed, a real smile blooming over her face. He marveled at it for a moment, unsure why it pleased him. Unsure why it mattered to him that she shouldn’t lose herself to sorrow.

  She studied him closely. “I suppose you and I are not so different.”

  His teeth flashed in a smile. “It’s not rude if it’s true.”

  “My sentiments exactly.” She nodded, only to realize she still held his hand. She released it and lifted her glass of milk again to distract herself from what was happening between them. She hadn’t meant to flirt with him, or be friendly, or whatever it was she was doing. It would only make her want his company more than she already did.

  “So, it’s only fair now that you tell me your story,” Ian decided, crossing his arms casually. “You have some secret you’re not telling me.”

  Grace pursed her lips, irritated that he’d turned the tables on her. Though she couldn’t blame him for being curious. She decided to give him as much of the truth as she was willing to divulge. At least for now.

  “On the worst day of my life, I walked in on my oh-so-brilliant-and-charming fiancé cheerfully banging my best friend in my bed.” She smiled cynically, her face hardening as she recalled the scene. “It was late afternoon, pouring rain outside, and this asshole was cozy in bed with my younger, sexier, but incredibly brainless friend. Why he did it, I’ll never know.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  She grinned. “God knows he deserved it, but no. I just threw them out, naked, onto the street, locked my door, blocked his phone number, and turned Alanis Morissette on full blast so I could drown out his pathetic pleas for forgiveness.”

  Ian chuckled, admiring her fiery side. “I’d say you showed him.”

  “Well, it helped, at least.” She sighed, though there was still laughter in her eyes. “Anyway, I came out here to take some time away from him and regroup.”

  “Regroup in a haunted house.”

  “If that’s what you want to call it,” she replied, her humor slowly fading. “Sometimes I think I’m just going crazy. None of this is real. It can’t be.”

  His mouth quirked in a cocky grin. “Let me assure you that I am one-hundred percent real.”

  She started to laugh but was cut off by Alex’s chipper voice. “We’re all real, baby.”

  He wandered into the kitchen, Jackie at his side. They both leaned over the kitchen island, looking right at home. Grace tried to get over how weird it felt.

  “Sorry if we woke you,” Grace said, attempting a smile. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I conked out.” Alex shot a look at Jackie. “Even with all the pretty ladies in the house, you couldn’t keep me from my beauty sleep.”

  Jackie leaned into him and her teeth flashed in a warm, lazy smile. “The house is calm now. They’re letting us rest.”

  “They have us right where they want us,” Ian realized, meeting eyes with Alex. “We were brought here for a reason. It’s important that we finish this the right way.”

  “Do we have to talk about it right now?” Alex stretched and yawned, his left arm slipping around Jackie’s waist casually. “Let’s enjoy this. You got anything other than wine in that fridge?”

  Grace turned and opened the fridge door, grabbing a bottle of silver tequila. She eyed it strangely, wondering who brought it over. “Looks like I do.”

  “Break out the glasses, let’s toast to something,” Alex decided, glancing down at Jackie. “What should we toast to?”

  Jackie considered his request as Grace passed out glasses and Ian poured a double shot of tequila into each one. When she spoke again, she looked to Grace and held up her glass. “To new friends. And soon, to new beginnings.”

  “Amen to that,” Alex cheered, tapping his glass against the others and knocking back the shot.

  Grace swallowed and set her glass down, distracted by how close Ian was standing to her. It worried her that she liked it so much. She knew it was a dangerous path to take, one she had no business pursuing.

  “I have a deck of cards,” she suggested, shrugging it off even as Alex and Jackie perked up excitedly. Even Ian nudged her with a knowing grin, pleased to see her attempt to enjoy herself.

  “Good way to practice that humility, Doc,” he murmured with a wink as he brushed past her to take a seat at the dining table. She stared after him, the tequila loosening her reserve.

  Hell, maybe a little fun wouldn’t hurt. Didn’t they always say that life was short?

  * * *

  The sun rose over the harbor and beat back the fog. It filtered in through the haze and lit up the living room, glowing over Jackie’s eyes. She inhaled slowly, deeply, as she awoke, her lips curving at the sound of Alex’s snores. The inner peace and comfort she felt flowed over her, encasing her in a welcoming cocoon. She felt right in this place, with these people. She may not be like them, but somehow, she felt connected to them. Like she was meant to be in the Sparrow House.

  Within moments, the peace was disturbed like a ripple in a pool of water. She felt a presence beside her and opened her eyes.

  The little girl stood beside the sofa, dressed all in white with her golden hair curled around her cherub face. Jackie felt no fear, no apprehension. She only felt curiosity and intrigue.

  Jackie sensed the girl’s insistence, her desire to show something to her. She sat up slowly and allowed her to l
ead the way through the house.

  They walked into the entryway, and the girl paused beneath the balcony. She stared up at the banister, and Jackie followed her gaze. That was when she noticed the ghostly mirage of broken shards of the railing as though someone had fallen through. Her eyes drifted to the floor, and she saw the spreading pool of blood accompanied by the broken body of a tiny girl.

  Sorrow pierced through her heart as she regarded the girl beside her. She understood how the girl had died, and now the pain, the grief, the misery that flowed through the house all made sense. She could feel the panic and disbelief the mother had felt upon finding her daughter. The anger and despair of the father as he listened to his wife’s cries of anguish.

  It all rushed at her in pulsating waves, nearly bringing her to her knees. But she fought to stand strong, to stay in her own mind and body, as her gaze swept the entryway around her.

  The walls were covered, floor to ceiling, in large, scribbled writing that repeated itself over and over. It said: My Little Sparrow.

  The words glowed white over darkened walls as though imprinted on the surface by a whisper, by a source of light in a world of darkness. Jackie looked back down at the girl and saw tears flowing down her cheeks. She said nothing, but Jackie understood that the girl knew it was her father who had left the messages for her. Her father who came to the house searching, desperate to be reunited with his daughter.

  But something stood in their way.

  Heartbroken, Jackie knelt and met the girl’s eyes, attempting a smile. This was why she was here, to save the child from the monster.

  “Jackie?” Alex stepped into the room, worried to see her crouched in the entryway alone.

  Jackie looked at him, and her smile faltered as fresh tears fell from her eyes. Before she could speak, spots swam over her vision, making her dizzy. Her legs gave out, dropping her to the wood floor.

  As she crumpled, Alex rushed forward to help her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”