“Let me guess. You were born in January?” Caitlin asked.
“January 16, and yes. That’s how I got my name. They were as equally uncreative about my middle name. They decided to name me January K. Jaxson. That would be ‘K’ as in the letter, not the name. I tell people it’s ‘K-A-Y’ when they ask, just to make things simpler, but it’s really just a placeholder letter.” I didn’t begrudge my parents’ desperate attempts to figure out a name for me. They could have picked something far more boring.
“We’re almost there,” Tad said. “Remember, we go in together. Nobody goes anywhere alone.”
I pulled out the Protection water my mother had made. “Here, everybody spray yourselves with this. It’s left over from my mother’s stash. It will help protect us from their attacks.” I thoroughly misted myself down and tossed the plastic spray bottle over to Caitlin. She followed suit, then Hank. Tad paused the van to douse himself with it, then started up again, driving cautiously along the drive.
The sky was overcast, threatening yet more snow, and the temperature was creeping up toward freezing. We’d probably have meltoff during the afternoon, then fresh snow and freezing during the night.
As the asylum came into sight, I shivered. The place gave me the creeps, though I wondered how much of that was actually the asylum itself, or the creature that had been born out of all the spirits, or the land itself. I wanted to pinpoint it, but I was nervous about going into trance, given what I had encountered on my earlier trip there.
“By the way,” I said. “Who are we working for? You said a real estate developer was interested in buying the land.”
“That’s right, you weren’t at the first meeting. Last week, the Yarnell Housing Corporation approached us. They’re a lot smaller than their name sounds, but they’re up and coming in Moonshadow Bay, and they are making buck. They offered us a five-thousand-dollar fee plus hours billed on this case.” Tad parked the van near the entrance. “Well, will you look at that. In all the time I’ve lived in Moonshadow Bay, I’ve never once come out here.”
As we tumbled out of the van, with Caitlin starting the equipment up, I began to wonder about the wisdom of what we were about to do. All the credos about doing good business seemed to vanish out the window with the stark view of the deserted facility.
But Hank shoved a bag of cameras into one of my arms, and Caitlin slung a bag of food over my other arm, and so—following their lead—I headed back into the belly of the beast.
Chapter Eleven
As I entered the asylum, the tension that I had felt the first time seemed to be ratcheted up. I tried to shut down my clairaudience—the ability to hear things in different realms—because there were whispers everywhere and they didn’t sound friendly. I could hear full-blown conversations, along with inappropriate laughter. Something sinister was lurking here, and it seemed fully awake and aware.
I pointed to the hallway that Killian and I had explored. “That goes all the way around the building. There’s a set of stairs on the right side of the building, and a set on the left, both going up to the second floor.”
“Where should we set up the equipment? What room were you in when you were attacked?” Hank asked.
I reluctantly led the way. The hallway door opened easily, and I swallowed my fear, leading them down the hall to the room. “In there.” I pointed to the closed door.
Hank motioned for me to step aside and he opened the door, peering in. We were all wearing headlamps, and I took a deep breath and followed him. When we were in the room, I backed up against the wall, trying to give the spirit as little body surface to target as I could.
“I can feel something,” Caitlin said. She held out one of the FLIR cameras. “Guys, you might want to look at this.”
We crowded around her, looking at the viewfinder. There, against the opposite wall, was a brilliant ball of bluish light. It registered cold—a good twenty-degree drop from the rest of the room—and it was hovering there.
“What is that?” I asked.
“It’s a will-o’-the-wisp,” Caitlin whispered. “Also known as a corpse candle. I’ve encountered them before.”
I had heard of will-o’-the-wisps, but I’d never seen one, nor had I ever had to deal with one. In Welsh mythology, they were classified under the Clanogrian, a group of spirits and elementals who were harbingers of death. The light was flickering, floating about three feet in the air.
I happened to glance up, over the top of the camera. “It’s no longer hiding itself,” I said.
Caitlin lowered the FLIR and swallowed hard. “You’re right.”
The ball of energy bobbed gently up and down, as though it were on the surface of a lake. It slowly began to move forward, toward us. My skin began to crawl and I glanced at the door, computing how many steps it would take me to reach it.
“Whatever you do, don’t let that thing touch you,” Tad warned. “I may not be able to feel energy quite the way you do, but there’s nothing but malicious intent coming from that light.”
The aura of menace was growing exponentially, like an argument that was cresting to a head. This wasn’t just something that didn’t want us here. The corpse candle actually felt like it wanted to harm us—it wanted to attack and it was taking its time about planning that attack.
The difference between a rabid dog and a hunter, I thought. A rabid dog would attack because that’s what it did—it didn’t give thought to the attack. It just did. But this—this was stalking us, watching us and planning its attack. We were prey, and the will-o’-the-wisp was on the hunt.
“I’m not sure if that’s what body-slammed me or not,” I said. “This feels darker and deliberate.” I kept my eyes on the approaching light. “You know, I think we should get out of here—at least out of this room.” I began to back away toward the door.
“All right, slowly—don’t run, but slowly back out. Keep your eyes forward,” Tad said. He motioned for us to move first. I slipped out the door, followed by Caitlin. Hank and Tad quickly followed, shutting the door behind them.
I moved away from the door. “I don’t trust that thing not to follow us. Keep your eyes open.”
“What can it do to us?” Tad asked.
“I think…more than just knock us around. My stomach’s still in knots from just being around it,” I said.
Caitlin cleared her throat. “While there are reports that corpse candles appear to warn someone of their impending death, there are also reports that they feed on energy, and lure people to their death—usually in swamps or on the moors, but why not in a forest? They’re vampiric in nature. They don’t drink blood, but they siphon off energy.”
“Whatever the case, that thing just scared me more than just about anything I’ve encountered,” Hank said. “I wonder if there are more of them here.”
“That would certainly come under the classification of the land being cursed. Aren’t will-o’-the-wisps like land elementals?” I asked.
Caitlin shook her head. “They’re also thought to be part of the Faerie world—Dark Fae. My mother’s nanny was a Faerie. She used to tell her stories of all the creatures in the Faerie realm, including will-o’-the-wisps. She called them Faerie Fire, and warned my mother against playing out in the woods, especially the Mystic Wood, because of them—along with other dangerous and beautiful creatures.”
“Dangerous beauty, that’s certainly a good term for them,” I said. “I used to sneak off into the Mystic Wood when I was young. My parents’ house—now mine—buttresses right up against it. I never encountered anything quite like that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not out there.” I watched the door warily. “I wish I had thought to ask Crichton how big of a patch of land is considered cursed.”
“You could call him,” Tad said. “Why don’t you go outside and do that—reception in here isn’t the best because of all the concrete. Take Caitlin with you. Nobody goes alone.”
Caitlin grinned. “In case you’re wondering, I have a black belt in
karate, and I’m also a judo expert. Both Hank and I have extensive martial arts backgrounds.”
“That sounds good to me.” I decided that yes, I would be finding that gym and at least taking a beginner’s class. I didn’t like the idea of not being able to defend myself physically and though I never expected to advance much, I was in shape enough that I should be able to master the basics. I also didn’t like putting others on the spot in order to protect me.
We headed back toward the door at the end of the hall. I had the uncomfortable sensation we were being watched, and all the way to the front door, I kept glancing over my shoulder.
Once outside, we found that it had begun to snow—heavily. The heavy flakes drifted down to blanket the already frozen world. I didn’t care, though. Anything was better than being inside that place.
“I hate it in there,” I said, stamping my feet as I pulled out my phone.
“I don’t like it much either. I’ve been involved in investigating a number of hauntings, but damn, woman, you were right. This place gives me the creeps. It feels like a ghost ship, oddly enough.” She huddled, her hands under her arms. “I don’t know how it feels colder out here than it did in there, but it does.”
“We’re exposed to the wind out here. Even with broken windows, at least inside we were out of the elements.” I opened my recents list and hit Crichton’s name. The phone rang three times before he answered.
“Charles Crichton. May I help you?”
“This is January—remember me?”
“Of course. What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you could tell me something. Just how big of a patch of land did the Lummi people think was cursed? I know the area that the institution sits on, but to what extent does the curse extend outward? An acre? Half an acre? Do you happen to know?”
He paused, then said, “Let me call you back in a few minutes. I think I have the information but I have to find it.”
“Thanks. If you could call me as soon as possible, I’d so very much appreciate it.” I hung up and then marched over to the van. “Come on, we don’t have to wait out in the cold.”
Caitlin glanced back at the building, then followed me. “All right.”
We reached the van and I stopped. “I forgot. I don’t have the key.”
“I have a spare,” Caitlin said, pulling out a key ring. She opened the side door and we clambered in. She fit the key in the ignition and turned on the heater and we huddled around the vents until Charles returned my call, about ten minutes later.
“January? I have your information,” he said. “In my records, I have a note that the curse seems to extend about two acres, with the asylum being center. So a mile outward from every direction. It seems to be circular—a perfect circle, actually—the last people to investigate the area ascertained. Given the asylum is dead center, I’m thinking that Leeland deliberately planned for the building to be at ground zero.”
“Why would he do that?” I frowned. “Unless he was planning on making use of all the chaos.”
“Precisely. Remember, Leeland and his band were chaos magicians. They weren’t just witches. They thrived on chaos and shadow magic, and anything that they could do to increase those powers, well…they did.”
I let out a long sigh. “So what you’re saying is that they pulled a Ghostbusters move—they built the institution directly over the center of the curse to harness and expand the energy driving it?”
“Since Leeland died in prison, I can’t tell you for certain, but that certainly seems likely, given the evidence. How’s your investigation going?” he asked, sounding like he wanted to talk.
“We found a corpse candle that seems very keen on hunting down quarry.”
“Oh, lovely!” Crichton paused, then quickly added, “I didn’t mean to come across that way. I know it’s not so lovely if you’re the one facing it, but I’ve always wanted to see one.”
“I don’t recommend it,” I said. “Thank you, I’ll talk to you soon.” As I hung up, I slumped back in my seat. “Okay, get ready for this—” I started to say, but Caitlin interrupted me.
“I heard. The asylum is directly over the strongest area of the curse—the central point?”
“Yes, and it extends about a mile out from every side, in a circular pattern. Odd, though—why circular? Perfect circles don’t exist in nature, so how did the curse form? Did someone start it, before the Lummi people lived in this area? I know that other settlers reached the shores of this country, though nobody’s sure who—besides the Natives—were here first.”
I shook my head. “Do you think…could something be buried in the ground to cause this?”
“What do you mean, buried? You’re not talking about a flying saucer or something?”
“I don’t know what I’m asking,” I said. “I’m just thinking out loud, I guess.” Reluctantly, I pulled my hands away from the vents that were still pumping out warm air. “We’d better get back to Tad and Hank before they start to worry.” I glanced at the clock. “Killian should be here in about ninety minutes—he said he’d be here by three.” I’d feel better with more bodies around. It always seemed like most of the ghosts in movies didn’t become a bother until there were only a few people around.
We slid out of the van after Caitlin turned off the ignition and she locked up. We began to hike back over to the building, blinking as the thick flakes blanketed the area. I blinked as one got caught in my eyelashes. Wiping it away, I turned back to Caitlin.
“How often do you have to do this? Set up out in the field and spend the night in freakshow spooky places?”
“Oh, at least once a month. You’ll get used to it, January. Don’t worry. It’s not like we do this every night, and once you have your sea legs under you, so to speak, it won’t be so frightening. It’s all part of the job.”
As we re-entered the building, I once again felt the sense of gloom and doom weigh down on us. We headed over toward the door that led into the left side of the hall. I quietly opened it, pushing through. I expected to see Tad and Hank right there, but they were nowhere in sight.
“Do you think they went on ahead?” I asked.
“I doubt it, since they said they were going to wait right here for us.” Caitlin looked around. “Should I call for them?”
I nodded, slowly letting myself drift into the energy around us. Something was off—something didn’t feel right. “There’s something going on here. I don’t like this.” I walked over to the door to the corpse candle room and listened at it. Nothing. With Caitlin at my back, I cautiously opened it, peeking in. Again, nothing.
Shutting the door, I turned back to Caitlin. “Where the hell could they have gone?”
She shook her head. “Did you hear any shouts coming from the building while we were out in the van?”
“Nope, but then I doubt if we would have been able to hear much. The walls are thick, and even with broken windows, I would think sound wouldn’t carry a great deal. What the hell happened to them?” I glanced around again. “Maybe they decided to check out another room?”
“Do you really want to go down the hall, opening doors?” Caitlin asked.
“I don’t know what else we can do. We could start shouting for them, but I’m thinking that might attract some really unwanted attention.” I motioned for her to follow me. “I don’t see their equipment bags anywhere.”
We had left the sleeping bags in the van until we needed them later. But each one of us was carrying a pack with various types of equipment in it, along with water bottles, food, and tissue. Caitlin adjusted her pack and then motioned for me to get behind her.
“You can work magic, but I can kick ass and take more damage than you can without being hurt,” she said.
I quickly swung in behind her—not having any desire to argue—and we headed down the hall. I kept glancing over my shoulder to keep an eye out behind us. We came to the next door and paused. Caitlin put her hand on the doorknob and I stepped to the side
. I wasn’t sure what I could do if something came swinging out of there, but whatever I ended up doing, I’d do it to the best of my abilities.
She cautiously turned the knob and opened the door. It only gave a few inches, the hinges letting out a creak as though the door hadn’t been opened in years. Caitlin frowned and gave it another yank. The rust gave and the door swung wide. Unprepared for the sudden yield, Caitlin went stumbling forward. She caught herself as I flashed a light inside.
The room was just as empty as the one before, but there was an even more sinister feel to this room and I quickly backed away.
“Close the door. Close it before whatever inside gets a chance—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Caitlin had slammed the door shut again. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “Next one?”
“I guess that’s the only thing we can do. They weren’t out front, waiting for us, were they? Maybe they…” But no, we would have seen them on our way back in, and since we all came in the same vehicle, they couldn’t have just driven away.
We made our way down the hall, looking inside every room. Each one felt slimy—old and oily and filled with decay, even though there wasn’t a single piece of furniture in any one of them.
I finally backed away to stand by one of the broken windows where the fresh, cold air was blowing in, along with a fair amount of snow. “This place feels like the walls should be oozing with slime or blood or something,” I said. “You know, very Amityville horror stuff.” Except the Amityville haunting had been a hoax. This wasn’t.
“I know what you mean. All the way down this hall, I’ve been having more and more trouble forcing my hand to the doorknob. Shifters definitely can’t rival witches for feeling and measuring energy, but we do have an innate sense of whether something is dangerous, and my alarm bells are clanging loud and fast. This whole setup—the entire building feels like one large entity to me.”
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