“You did great, Frank.” I smile, breaking the silence. I have changed, but more than that, I’m transformed, and I like it.
“Hey, we aren’t going to have a sea monster come after us next, right?” George whimpers. Sabrina pats his hand consolingly, just as shaken but handling a smidge better than he is. “Because I can’t swim y’all. I just want to get out of this hole.” His voice cracks, and Ellis finds his words.
“No, man. I’m pretty sure we’ll be fine.” He wraps one trembling hand around my arm and presses his clammy cheek to my forehead. His heartbeat, though steady, is fast, and his chest rises and falls with the forced cadence of someone pushing off a panic attack. I know the feeling. Glancing at me, he reaches for the flashlight now tucked in the crevice of the wall behind Sabrina. “We’ll be good. After all, Addie’s here.”
DELIA HAD THE GOOD sense to come looking for us, and thank god for that. Marlowe, ever the persistent eavesdropper, told Delia where to search, but the firefighters she’d brought along were more irate than concerned.
“Another bunch of irresponsible kids trying to play ghost hunters,” one of the burly men tells another. How truly wrong they are.
Wrapped in a towel on Delia’s hood, I watch as the other’s parents show up; Sabrina’s father in the minivan with Trevor peeking from the backseat, Ellis’ mother in bright red scrubs and a furious look on her face, and finally George’s parent’s looking resigned but not at all surprised. He never did tell us what he was doing in the woods to begin with.
A few feet in front of me lit by the flashing lights off the fire engine, Delia smooths things over with the lead firefighter, a tall woman with neat blonde hair pinned back behind her ears. The moon is just beginning to rise in the sky, and the playful hints of violet are no longer ominous. A sense of relief sighs through the trees as the bats flutter in the night, and the translucent woman peering at our group no longer seems threatening.
Her face twists into a hopeful grin, and as I raise my hand in greetings, she waves hers in farewell. The glow of purple fades as first her limbs, then torso, and finally her face is carried away on the light breeze and a sudden clicking feeling in my stomach tells me she’s finally gone from the earth.
“Well, since this is technically public property and they can’t for sure pin any of the broken boards on y’all and you’re all minors still,” a cloud comes over Delia’s expression as she mutters under her breath, “thank heavens for that small grace.” At her normal volume she continues, “We’re all free to go. Although I have more than enough sense to ask The House to really ground you. Aunt Minnie could lock up your room, you know? I can have Marlowe leave plates out in the hall for you too while I’m at work.”
“Don’t worry, Aunt Del,” I reassure her. “I won’t be disappearing like that again. Besides,” I smile, if only to hold back my exhausted tears. “We don’t have to worry about the shadow anymore and I’m starting to think the little boy had nothing to do with those deaths to begin with.”
She jerks back, her broad shoulders shuddering as she pulls open her car door. “What’s that now? You couldn’t possibly have taken those things on yourself?” She gapes at my face, searching for the hint of a joke or bluff, and then back at my friends, reassessing their health as they climb into their own vehicles.
Stroking Frank’s back as I slide into the passenger’s seat, I shut my eyes and force my vocal cords to cooperate with me. “Not entirely on my own. It’s a long story. By the way, did my mom ever show any interest in all the scorpions around the house?”
Mouth still wide open, and tiny pumpkins swinging from her ear lobes, Delia turns the key in the ignition but doesn’t move towards the road. “You’ve got to be kidding me, darling! Who do you think refurbished them all? Why else did you think I was confused you’d forgotten about them? You used to carry the old door knocker around like it was a baby doll. Wrapped it up in a blanket and fed it a plastic bottle and everything. I always thought if there was one person that loved Nix House as well as I do, it was Elena.” Narrowing her eyes at me before she goes to reverse, she presses her lips together then asks, “now what’s this all about? Are you trying to distract me?”
Dazed, and not at all ready to sleep, I hang onto Frank’s tail and shake my head. “Not at all, Aunt Del. Not at all.”
MY TRIP TO THE IN-BETWEEN has two unexpected side effects. One, I can finally hear the spirits as easily as I can see them, and Marlowe will not shut up. And two, it's becoming difficult to trust my own eyes.
The line between the worlds is blurred, and it’s a constant hassle to look for the flash of violet on anything unusual I come across. The problem is, I can’t get the images of death out of my mind. They’re brutal deaths too; bloated corpses and open wounds, festering with maggots, bludgeoned skulls and twisted necks. Delia figures that’s a side effect from crossing where no mortal should, and I’m hoping with time, the visions will fade.
“Aunt Delia?”
The sunlight is cascading through my window, and for once, I’m not freezing. My heavy knit sweater is snug beneath my jean jacket, and the thick soles of my boots keep the chill from the floorboards off my feet. For the first time in weeks, I feel hopeful.
There’s been no sign of any more doppelgangers or malicious shadows since my drop down the well, and the fearful presence in the downstairs hallway has dissipated into the easily dismissed drafts all my otherworldly relatives bring. I’d like to believe it was all my imagination, but with Marlowe constantly following me from room to room and Frank scurrying about my bed and desk every moment that he gets, there’s just no denying that Nix House will never be normal.
On the bright side, Delia ventured into my childhood room long enough to discover all our missing possessions scattered around the floor. All Beau wanted was our attention, and as for his appearances corresponding with the demon’s, I’m inclined to believe he just didn’t want it to get anyone else. Of course, I can’t be too sure, since he spends most of his time back in the house playing hide and seek.
Waving at his small form peeking out from the top of the stairs, I trek down the steps knocking the orange and black streamers out of my way and frowning at the dozen jack-o’-lanterns scattered around the dining room. Not that I’d tell Delia after all the efforts she went through carving them, but I still hate those things.
“In the kitchen, darling!”
I should have known.
Upon reaching the kitchen, I lean on the doorway, tugging at the stray lock of hair that keeps falling into my face. Delia is dancing back and forth in front of the cluttered countertop piling party trays with finger foods and sweets decked out in every kind of Halloween theme imaginable. The cake is the biggest item by far; coated in rich dark chocolate and lined with miniature marranitos marching around a collection of fondant spiders and scorpions. To match the bracelet I'm so fond of, she’d explained.
“Aunt Del, seriously you don’t need to make such a big deal of it. I don’t have that many friends, and I’m not even sure which ones will show up. We live in a haunted house, remember?”
Marlowe nods at my side, tsking in disapproval. “She never listens,” she tells me. It’s a relief to finally hear her voice. “You should have seen the engagement party she threw for your parents!”
...except when she says stuff like that.
“Oh hush, you two! I can throw a party if I want and my only niece turning eighteen is something to be celebrated! I’m not the only clairvoyant around anymore, and Addie,” she pauses, smiling tearfully, “you’ve grown up so beautifully.”
“Alright, alright!” I roll my eyes and head to the front door. My great, great grandfather is pointing to the front of the house, so someone must be about to knock. “Enough with sentimental crap. If we’re really going through with this, I’m not doing it with red eyes, so crying’s not allowed.”
Sure enough, I’m halfway through the dining room when the knocking starts and Frank, overly excited, jumps off my wrist
to scuttle in front of me. With the candles flickering away in the hollowed-out gourds and the bright autumn sky casting light on the glittering house, it’s easy to call the place home again. Only one person’s missing. Well, two. But I’m never getting her back.
“Hey, you’re early,” I greet Sabrina as she bounces over the doorstep. After witnessing the demise of a demon, rooms full of kind-hearted ghosts are nothing to fear. At least, as long as they’re not in a mood.
“Girl, please. I live like four houses down and I can smell the food wafting out your windows from my front yard. There’s no way I wasn’t coming over early.” She leads the way into the kitchen, no invitation needed. “Mm, and George will be here in like twenty. He just has to call home when he shows up so your aunt can let his parents know he hasn’t fallen down a well again.”
She smirks devilishly at me, and I grimace in return. “Gee, I’m glad at least one of us can joke about it.” I roll my eyes.
“Someone’s got to,” she sings as she strolls backwards through the dining room. I grab at her shoulder to keep her from bumping into one of the lit pumpkins, and she sticks her tongue out at me. “It’s not as if you or Ellis are ever going to find any humor in it.”
“Oh, no,” I pan, “I always look for comedic relief when remembering near death experiences.”
“You should!” Delia says emphatically, swatting at my hip with her spatula.
“Hey, watch it!” I complain.
“There’s a box waiting on my desk for you later on,” she replies, ignoring my protests completely, “I picked it up at the post office yesterday after work. Don’t forget.”
There’s a second knock at the door, and I look to Sabrina quizzically. With half a petit four raised to her lips, she merely shrugs and continues eating. “Too soon to be George,” she mumbles around her food, “I don’t know.”
Rolling my eyes again, I sidestep her and wrinkle my nose at Marlowe, who follows me without hesitation. “I’ll get it.”
Backed by the early afternoon light and watching me with eyes that gleam like the leaves floating in the wind, Ellis is waiting on the front porch. He’s seated comfortably in the wide wooden swing and smiling as though every selfish, misguided thing I’ve done or haven’t done, and the many terrifying instances I dragged him into never happened. He’s smiling at me the way I wished he would have the first moment we met.
“Happy birthday, Addie.”
Swallowing, I shut the front door behind me. Not that it will block out Marlowe’s curious stare.
“Thanks. You’re early for the party, Sabrina was too. Do you want to go in?”
He bites his lip, and then shakes his head softly, motioning me to sit at his side. “I wanted to talk to you for a moment before everyone showed up.”
“Okay?” I slide onto the seat beside him and tuck my hands anxiously behind my knees. “What’s up?”
“Being grounded these past few weeks, and you know, trying to convince my mom I’m not going to trespass into decrepit buildings anymore has given me a lot of time to think things over, and I think I’ve finally got it straightened out. It took a while, but we’ve really been through hell lately.”
“That’s an understatement.”
He silences me with a single, gentle gaze. “Here’s the thing though... my biggest worry this summer was that I’d screw up somehow and lose my chance at a scholarship, or maybe even get on the bad side of a spirit.”
“And now?” My heart is picking up, and I pull at the seams of my jeans, trying to appear calm. Best friends. He’s my best friend.
But he’s never stared at me quite this intensely before.
I sit as still as I can, drawing in all the little details of his face. The perfectly curved shape of his lips, the hopeful gleam in his eyes, even the miniscule pink scar marking where he’d scraped his cheek climbing out of the well. His nose is slightly crooked from our car crash, and the depth to his stare is entrancing.
“Now I’m more worried about messing up and losing you.”
“I’m right here,” I frown. Fidgeting with Frank on my wrist, now there’s no way Ellis can’t see I’m nervous. “I’m not going to try shutting out again, that didn’t work real well and it sort of sucked the whole time.”
He clears his throat, drawing his answer out so slowly, I almost scream for a reply. Placing one hand over my own, he hesitates a moment and then intertwines his fingers with mine. “That’s not what I mean,” he murmurs.
I tense as he leans in, blinking in disbelief. He lowers his eyelids as I blink more rapidly, the instinct to close my own eyes kicking in. His breath is warm on my face, so different from the stark autumn air around us, my heart is racing now.
“I’d like to change my title,” he whispers.
“To what?” I breathe.
“How much of a dork would I be if I said ‘boyfriend?’”
I start to laugh, but then his lips are on mine and nothing else matters. Not the dozen relatives I know are probably watching, or that Delia and Sabrina are right behind them. Not the strange gift I’ve learned to accept, or the visions that still plague me. If Ellis is at my side, I think I can manage.
After all, he is my best friend.
WITH A PLATEFUL OF bite-sized marranitos in one hand, and the small package from the post office in the other, I settle on the center of my bed. Even Marlowe leaves me to myself, and I don’t bother to shut my wide-open window. There’s no need to keep out shadows tonight.
Eden refused to be coaxed to the party, which was just well, considering there’s bound to be some awkwardness there once she sees Ellis and me together at school. Owen and Miranda were busy breaking up for what Sabrina claimed was the fifth time, but George and Nick both brought along some friends, and Norma and a few other workers from the bakery swung by. The normality of a birthday party, despite a few glowing attendees, brought me a peace I thought I’d never recover. Even glancing out the back window at the graveyard didn’t send shards of pain through my chest like before.
Changes are just part of life, and the best we can do is accept people for who they are in the moment.
Ripping open the side of the slight cardboard box, a wistfulness winds around my chest as I note the return address. A small, blue velvet case falls out, and when I pry it open, a glistening, fiery opal sits in the palm of my hand. Frank squirms down my wrist for a closer look, his tiny claws rolling the gem across my skin like it’s a toy, and almost everything is right in my world.
I fasten my necklace around my neck, pull out my phone, and punch the number in myself rather than scrolling through my contacts. Two rings later, and the voice I’ve missed more than anything greets me.
“Hey Dad,” I grin, “I got your present in the mail. I love you.”
Acknowledgements
I GREW UP HESITANT to believe in ghosts, but always conscious of the unexpected noises that shouldn’t have been possible and the creeping feeling of being watched in an empty room. That awareness gave way to a delight in preparing for fall not with horror movies or a list of houses to trick-or-treat at, but by browsing the shelves in the library. Creepy was always fun, but something with an air of magic was better. October Darlings is a book I would have loved to find, so I really had no choice but to write it!
Of course, none of it would have been possible without the support from my friends and family. Big shout out to my aunt, my husband, my best friend in the world (and her sister), and of course, Cristina and Yadira. Thanks for being the first ones to meet Addie and help me figure her place in her world.
And lastly, since I made a playlist for the sole reason of helping me drown out background noise while I wrote, here’s a partial ‘soundtrack’ to accompany October Darlings.
Something - The Beatles
What Sarah Said - Death Cab for Cutie
Everlong - Food Fighters
Kiss Kiss Kill Kill - Horrorpops
Subcultural Girl - Nekromantix
I Will Follow You Int
o The Dark - Death Cab for Cutie
The Violet Hour - Sea Wolf
Calling - Tiger Army
Back To You - Twin Forks
Cleopatra - The Lumineers
About the Author
Born and raised in South Texas, Wendolyn Baird spent most of her childhood devouring stories about magic, ghosts, and adventures. Books are a huge part of her life, and when she’s not reading or writing them, she’s usually staring off into space considering new stories to write down. Her works focus on strength and vulnerability while weaving together unique worlds and characters.
Her first novel is Shattered; A Tempest Coven Novel, which is volume one in an intended trilogy centered on a courageous and sometimes cynical witch named Tania. As for October Darlings, a second novel is coming. Watch out for more mischief with Addie in Deadly Darlings.
Both Shattered and October Darlings are available on Amazon, and you can follow her online for updates on current or upcoming projects.
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