Kitty's House of Horrors

by Carrie Vaughn

  “Give me a break!” Conrad said, looking away in disgust.

  “No, seriously, she’s really good with this,” I said.

  “You’re not going to get me to buy that a Oujia board really works. Especially not one that comes in a box from Parker Brothers,” Conrad argued.

  “These are actually the best kind,” Tina said, ripping off the shrink-wrap. “These are clean. You don’t want to mess with a board when you don’t know where it came from or what it’s been used for.”

  “I’ve never had much luck with any boards,” Jeffrey said.

  “That’s because you’re all auras and empathy. I’m a little more hands-on,” Tina said, and the two grinned at each other like they were sharing a secret.

  Did I sense sparks? Were Tina and Jeffrey developing a thing? I’d have to keep an eye on them. The thought made me giddy—they’d be so cute together. I wondered if their kids would be superpsychic. But I was getting ahead of myself.

  The eleven of us gathered around the long dining room table. Tina sat in the middle and set up the board. “We’re not all going to be able to play, I’m afraid. There’s not enough room. But, Jeffrey, if you could sit across from me, I’m betting the two of us should be able to get something.”

  “I’m game.” He always was.

  Ariel dimmed the lights and brought out a couple of candles. “It’s all about atmosphere.”

  “And she knows, because she has flapping bat icons on her website,” I said.

  “Hey!” But she was smiling, so she’d taken the ribbing well. And there was much chuckling. “You’re not very formal about this. Some people build up whole rituals, stock phrases, the right colored candles, incense, the works. They say it won’t work without it. That it’s a way to show the spirits respect.”

  “Different strokes,” Tina said. “I’m self-taught; I never learned any rituals. But it seems like all the ceremonial crap is distracting. Puts up more barriers between us and the other side rather than reducing them. Conrad’s right on that score—too much mysticism only confuses people. Makes it easier to dupe them. I’d rather cut through all that. Most of this is instinct anyway. I can’t explain what it is I do.”

  “What are you going to do for us today? Channel Houdini or what?” I said.

  “You can’t channel Houdini,” Conrad said, predictably. Tina rolled her eyes.

  “I’m going to try to read something off you,” she said to Conrad. “This is supposed to be about shocking you, right?”

  “Do your worst,” he said.

  Across from each other, Tina and Jeffrey placed two fingers from each hand on the plastic planchette in the middle of the board. Then nothing happened.

  I’d seen Tina do this before, but it was still spooky. It didn’t help that the last time we’d done this, it had initiated some really scary fallout. Buildings spontaneously combusting, demon possession. Yeah. What was going to happen this time? So much of the tension of this came from expectation. The atmosphere of it, as Ariel said. Everyone must have been holding their breaths, the room was so still.

  The plastic scritched across the printed cardboard, a tiny scraping noise. Someone might have scuffed a foot. Except that Jeffrey and Tina both held their hands above the Ouija board, tense—and not touching the planchette. It had gotten away from them.

  “What was that?” Ariel whispered.

  “Shh,” Tina hissed. She craned over the board to see where the arrow pointed. “The letter N. Well, it’s a start.”

  “How are you going to prove to me that you didn’t move that yourself?” Conrad said, once again taking a page out of the skeptic’s handbook.

  “Here’s the thing, Conrad,” Tina said, sounding frustrated. “I can’t. Shall we try again?”

  Again, Jeffrey and Tina placed fingers on the plastic. Candles flickered. Their shadows wavered across the board, ghostly. Like something from beyond really was reaching out, nudging.

  “We have an N,” Tina said. “What is Conrad thinking about that has to do with N?”

  They must have sat like that for a couple of minutes. Jeffrey had his eyes closed. Tina’s were half-lidded, her gaze on the planchette. Somebody fidgeted; the noise of fabric on fabric seemed loud.

  The plastic shifted, again scooting out of Jeffrey and Tina’s grasps. This time, we all leaned in. It pointed at A.

  “Sleight of hand. It’s a stage trick.” Conrad looked at Grant. “Right?”

  Grant shrugged noncommittally.

  “This doesn’t prove anything,” Conrad said, shaking his head.

  “Natalie,” Jeffrey said. “Someone named Natalie. Young. A terrible loss.”

  His eyes were still closed. He pursed his lips, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. He didn’t see Conrad staring at him, his mouth open.

  “What is it?” Tina asked.

  We were all looking at Conrad now. He stammered, “My-my sister. Natalie. She was a couple years older than me. She died.”

  “Drowned, right?” Jeffrey said.

  “That was twenty-five years ago,” Conrad said. “How did you know that?”

  “It’s a common feeling. You lose someone you love in an accident like that, you spend the rest of your life wondering if you could have prevented it. You may think you’ve moved on, but the thought of it is always there. It wasn’t your fault, Conrad. You couldn’t have done anything,” Jeffrey said gently.

  I knew how Conrad was feeling, because Jeffrey did the same thing to me when I first met him and asked him to prove he could do what he claimed. He pulled a name out of my past and knocked me over with it.

  Nothing in the room moved until Conrad shook himself, shuddered almost, like he was waking up from a spell. He glared at Jeffrey.

  “You could have learned about that a dozen different ways. It was in the newspapers. Provost dug it up and fed you the line. That’s all it is. And it’s a cheap stunt, throwing something like that at me. Nice try—for a second there I almost believed you.”

  Jeffrey shrugged, like it didn’t bother him one way or another whether Conrad believed him.

  “And just to prove I’m not upset, I’m not going to get up and storm out of the room. That’s what you’re expecting, isn’t it?” Conrad pointed when he said this.

  “Right,” Tina said. “Let’s try something a little lighter. No more invasive information about people who aren’t receptive to it, okay?” Tina donned a quirky smile. “Let’s find out who’s going to hook up by the end of the two weeks.”

  There was much grumbling, chuckling, and eye rolling at this announcement. Grant and Anastasia were sitting detached, observant but not involved.

  “I think it’s a good idea,” Ariel said. “Let all that subconscious stuff come bubbling to the surface.”

  “Come on.” Tina grinned at Jeffrey. “It’ll be fun.”

  Sighing, he reached over the board, and they returned to their positions on the planchette.

  Again, nothing happened. This would try the patience of saints.

  I imagined the sound of a ticking clock, which would have been a perfect backdrop. That, and a hard wind beating against the house. Maybe a cat knocking something over. This whole scene was begging for the haunted-house treatment. Gemma giggled, and someone shushed her.

  “Maybe nobody hooks up,” Jeffrey said. “If there’s nothing there, there’s nothing there.”

  “Provost won’t be happy about that,” I said. “I hear they always rig a hot romance on these things. You have to have at least one cavorting-in-the-hot-tub scene.”

  “Shh,” Tina said, and I ducked, because I should have known better. “I don’t like this.” She suddenly pulled her hands away, shaking them as if she’d touched something hot.

  “Are you getting something?” Jeffrey said.

  “No. I’m just not feeling good.”

  Conrad said, “All this psychic stuff is showmanship. It’s all an act.”

  I was really going to get sick of that tone of voice by the end of th
e two weeks. Half of us shushed him.

  “Try again. Focus on what’s causing that feeling,” Jeffrey said.

  Once again, they placed fingers on the planchette. Again, we waited. Tina had her eyes closed. Jeffrey watched Tina. He seemed worried. My own gaze went back and forth between them.

  The candles flickered.

  Tina’s lips started moving, like she was speaking silently. Her brow furrowed.

  “Tina,” Jeffrey said and reached for her.

  She gasped. The planchette and board jumped, skittering from her touch. She sat back, holding her head, gasping for breath. I rose half out of my chair, along with a few of the others. Jeffrey shoved past us, making his way around the table to her side. He knelt by her, and she clung to his shoulder.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice strained. “I don’t think I like it here.”

  This wasn’t calming my own paranoia at all.

  “Could it be something that happened in the past?” Jeffrey said. “A past accident or death?”

  “No. That sort of thing isn’t this… insistent. That’s it, I’m done.” She pushed her chair away from the table. “Sorry, guys. Obviously the stars are not aligned tonight.”

  “Can I get you something? A glass of water?” Jeffrey said, and Tina smiled a thanks.

  I didn’t like it. Tina wouldn’t act like that unless something had really gotten to her. She had guts. I’d seen her scared, but she never backed down.

  Someone turned the lights back on, and the group broke into different conversations. Grant and Anastasia were watching Tina closely, studious, like they expected her eyes to roll back in her head while she chanted in tongues. Which I’d seen her do before, but still.

  Then they caught each other watching. Exchanged the briefest glance. Grant left the table and made his way to the living room window, to look out at the night. At nothing.

  Tina had her hands around the glass of water Jeffrey had brought her, but she hadn’t taken a drink yet. Jeffrey was hovering. Something was definitely sparking between those two. If I had my way I’d have shuffled everyone out of the room and let them have their moment. But the cameras were probably eating this up.

  I sat at the table and folded the Ouija board out of the way; I had the feeling it was staring at me.

  “Jeffrey, are you sensing anything?” I asked.

  He hesitated, glancing around like whatever it was had physical form and he could really see it. “It’s hard to tell if there’s really something here, or if it’s the strain of a dozen strangers pushed together in an artificial situation. I wouldn’t expect the energy here to be rosy.”

  “Maybe that’s it,” Tina said. “Just normal weirdness.”

  “You know how odd that sounds?” I said, and she smiled.

  “Tina,” Grant said, turning from the window and marching over. “I’d like to try something, if you’re game.”

  She looked wary. “Depends. I may just have a beer and call it a night.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Hell, no,” she said, glaring.

  “You saw something,” he said. “You didn’t like it, and I think your mind decided to block it. Now, I suspect you’re the kind of person who doesn’t scare easily. If something has scared you, I’d really like to know what.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “I’d like to hypnotize you.”

  “Can you do that?” Tina said.

  “I can try. It may not work. I may be wrong and you may not have any idea what’s bothering you, subconsciously or otherwise.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “I’ve seen a lot of freaky stuff, but I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “We can do it here, in the open,” Grant said. “The moment you’re uncomfortable, we’ll stop.”

  “Is it dangerous?” I said.

  “It can be,” he said. And that was why I liked Grant. He could be evasive, but he didn’t sugarcoat.

  She looked at Jeffrey, gave him some expression I couldn’t see. He shrugged and said, “I’m curious to see what would happen.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay. We can try it.”

  Sounding amused, Conrad said, “So, you have a watch on a chain? A crystal ball or something?”

  “No,” Grant said. “Lie down on the sofa, here. Everyone else, you can watch, but keep your distance.”

  Under the gathering’s watchful, curious stares, Tina moved to the sofa and lay down. Jeffrey didn’t leave her side. He sat on the edge, near her knees. She shifted to give him room, and they both looked at Grant, daring him to argue. The magician didn’t. He moved a pillow under her head and asked if she was comfortable. She shifted and fidgeted for a moment, then settled. Even I could tell she was tense. The room smelled tangy. It wasn’t just the smell of a house filled with people and growing ripe; it was nerves, tension. Lee and Jerome, the other lycanthropes, glanced at me. All our noses were flaring. This was getting thick.

  Grant knelt by the sofa near Tina’s head.

  “Relax,” he said, his voice soft, steady. “Take a deep breath. In, and out.”

  He managed to project even more intensity than usual. Like he had collected all his focus, which had been spread equally around the room, observing, and pointed it toward her. If he had pointed all that attention toward me, I’d probably have jumped out of my skin. Never mind relaxing.

  I had to say something: “I’m sorry, weird question, and if I don’t ask now I’ll forget.”

  I expected the glare Grant gave me. But it was an indulgent glare—he knew me pretty well by this time. “Yes?”

  “Are psychics like Tina more or less susceptible to hypnotism? You know, are their minds more receptive to being open like that, or do they actually have stronger defenses against that kind of prying?”

  Grant said, “I wouldn’t call it prying. When it’s done well, it’s more like drawing back a curtain. It all depends on how cooperative the subject is. We’ll find out soon how cooperative Ms. McCannon is.”

  “Just get on with it,” Tina said.

  Grant raised a brow, asking my permission. I ducked out of the way.

  “All right,” he said, returning his attention to Tina. “Again. Relax. Breathe in, and out.” He spoke slowly, calmly, and in moments her breathing matched the rhythm of his speech. He didn’t use any of the movie “you’re getting very sleepy” clichés. He just spoke softly, rhythmically, creating a mood, like the peace of a gently rocking boat. I was getting a little woozy listening to it.

  The room was dead quiet.

  “You’re in a dark room, safe and warm. Protected. You feel calm and powerful. Nothing can touch you here. Warm, protected, very safe. In a moment, a light will come on, slowly. A soft, warm light is growing brighter. You start to see what else is in the room. Tina, do you remember the séance you performed a short while ago?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her lips barely moving.

  “Go back to the start of the séance. Remember what you felt. What you saw. Replay those events, those feelings. Remember what contacted you. What happened first?”

  Her lips moved; the words came slowly. “It’s moving. I can’t feel my hands. I know when it starts because I can’t feel my hands.” Her brow furrowed. Grant murmured words of comfort.

  “Jeffrey is helping,” she said. “They trust Jeffrey.”

  “Who trusts Jeffrey?”

  “Them.” She wet her lips. “Natalie. Conrad’s sister. She’s with him, looking after him. She’s worried—”

  “Now, wait just a minute—” Conrad said, lurching forward. Anastasia caught his arm, held him back. He looked hard at her, as if surprised by the strength of her grip. He met her gaze. And I bet that gave him a shock.

  Conrad stayed back and stayed quiet.

  “That was the first contact you made during the séance,” Grant said, his tone never wavering. “Move forward now. You tried again.”

  “Asked a
question. Who hooks up.” She smiled a little.

  “You felt something.”

  Tina’s smile vanished. “No.”

  “You’re safe here. The room is protected. The scene playing now is only an image, a memory. You can see the memory very clearly. It can’t hurt you.”

  She shook her head, just a little. “It’s here, closing around the house.”

  “What is?”

  “It’s ugly. No.”

  Jeffrey reached for her hand, but Grant shook his head sharply, warning him away.

  “Whatever you saw, it can’t hurt you here,” Grant said. “You have control over this memory. What do you see? What is it, closing around the house?”

  “Hate,” she said.

  Grant pursed his lips. “Where does the hate come from?”

  “It’s a plan—it’s all part of the plan. I can’t see the plan, I can only see what it means, and it’s full of hate. Nobody makes it, nobody—” She grimaced, her head started shaking, and a whine began in her throat, at the edge of a scream. Her whole body tensed. The hair on my neck bristled.

  Grant leaned in. “The light is fading, Tina. It’s growing dim, fading to a warm, comforting darkness. You’re resting, relaxed in every part of your body. Your mind is relaxed, your breathing is relaxed. When I count to three, you’ll awake rested, aware, in full control of your memory and yourself. One… two… three…”

  She opened her eyes. Looked at Grant, then at Jeffrey. She let out a long sigh.

  “So what’s out there?” Jerome said, moving closer, from the outskirts of the gathering. “What’s closing in?”

  She rubbed her face; her frown was despairing. “I couldn’t see it. It was almost…” She shook the thought away. Jeffrey took her other hand and squeezed tightly.

  Urgent, Jerome continued. “Is it a person? An animal? A thing? Another one like us? What?”

  “I said I don’t know!” She sat up, glaring. Her hands were shaking.

  “Whole lot of good that does us,” the wrestler said, turning away.

  Lee said, “I’m not trying to criticize, or question you, but could this maybe be paranoia? We’re in the middle of nowhere, in a weird situation—”

  “I’m a paranormal investigator,” she said. “I’ve been in situations way more whacked-out than this.”