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Destiny: A Fantasy Collection

Page 78

by Rachelle Mills


  “And our last death occurred in 1972, when the father of the last owner of this house died. Henry Duchaine passed peacefully in his sleep. As you can see, there are no flashing neon signs screaming at us as to why this house is haunted. Those deaths were abrupt, yes, but not violent.”

  Drowning was a violent death. Not being able to breathe? Yup, it’ll scar a person for life. I know it for a fact.

  “Was there ever a fire on the property?” I ask, trying to get my mind off the memory of drowning.

  “Yes,” Seth says. “In 1922, the original estate caught fire, but it was during the summer, and the entire family was away.”

  “Was there anyone else in the house, though?”

  Seth cocks his head and stares at me, his eyes unreadable. “I don’t know.”

  “We might want to check that. Fire is as violent a death as you can get. It might have been the hired help who died here.”

  “So noted.” Seth scribbles something down in his notebook.

  “Now we travel in time to our clients, who inherited the house,” Doc continues, bringing our full attention back to him. “The new owners put everything they had into updating the home and fixing the problems that arose. I’m thinking all the renovations disturbed our sleeping ghost, which seems to have targeted their little girl. Our goal here is to study, yes, but also to remove the ghost from this home so there is no more danger to the child or her parents.”

  See? Basically the same thing Wade said, but delivered with much more umph. Wade has a lot to learn before he can be anywhere near Doc’s league.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Eric leans forward, his elbows propped on the table.

  “Ethan and I will walk through the house, trying to get the ghost to talk to us, while Jordan monitors everything from our hub of operations.” Wade stands, nodding to Ethan and Jordan. “Dr. Olivet, would you care to join us?”

  “Thank you, Wade, but I have my own process.” Doc smiles indulgently. I notice he doesn’t invite the Scooby Gang to join him.

  “Mary, why don’t you and Eric help Jordan out?” Doc suggests, and I’m grateful. I don’t want my sister or Eric wandering around in this place after what happened earlier. At least here they might see what’s coming for them on the heat signature monitor.

  “Sure thing, Doc.” Mary plops down next to Jordan and gives him a bright smile, which causes a permanent blush on the poor kid’s face.

  “And, Emma, you and Nathaniel can monitor everything from outside. That way if anything goes wrong, we have someone who can call for help.”

  Mary and Eric frown, neither of them wanting me to be alone with Nathaniel. I’m not sure I want to be alone with him either, but there’s not a lot to do about that unless we want to ’fess up to Doc and the Scooby Gang.

  “Come on.” I head back toward the front door before anyone can try to find reasons to keep me inside. I really don’t want to be in here. That soul sucking ghost took a lot out of me, and I’m not looking forward to facing her again.

  It’s quiet as I exit into the early evening heat, something I’m entirely grateful for. Because of all the ghosts, I’m eternally cold. New Orleans helps dissipate some of the cold so I’m not freezing all the time.

  I make a beeline for Doc’s van and open the back doors to see a technological mess. I have no idea what half this stuff is, but it’s lit up like Christmas. Monitors line one entire wall, and a pull-down bed is clipped to the other. Equipment is all over the floor.

  “Wow. He means business, doesn’t he?” Nathaniel lets out a whistle when he gets a good look at the inside of the van.

  “I guess so.” Looking around, I spot two headsets and plug them both into the spot marked as audio output. Doc explained all this to me before we left, thankfully. I hand one of them to Nathaniel. “We’re supposed to keep an ear out for anything unusual, or if they scream for help.”

  He takes the headset but doesn’t put it on. “Have you ever done this before?”

  “What?”

  “This.” He waves his hand around the van. “Go out hunting ghosts.”

  “God, no.” I have enough trouble with ghosts coming to me without seeking them out. Although if I see a ghost like the kid on the roof, I try to help them. It keeps the reaper in me from going stir crazy.

  “Then how did you get roped into it?” He quirks a brow the same way I do when I’m curious. It’s disturbing.

  “My sister likes Wade, who’s in charge of the Ghost Chasers.” I can’t keep the snicker out of my voice. “She didn’t want to come alone when she met the rest of his crew for the first time. Bunch of strange guys…well, let’s just say we’re both smarter than that. We grabbed Eric and met the guys here, only to discover the family had called in Doc too.”

  “You know him well?” Nathaniel puts the headset on but leaves his left ear bare so he can listen to the house and talk to me at the same time.

  “Yeah. I met him back when I was still in foster care. He helped me understand what being a living reaper actually meant.”

  “But you don’t trust him.”

  That gets my attention, and I look over at him. He’s watching me, his hazel eyes intense. “Why would you say that?”

  “Body language. It’s something my grandparents had me studying for as long as I can remember. Yours says you don’t trust him, at least not completely.”

  Huh. I’ll have to ask Zeke about that and learning how to control my reactions. I don’t like anyone being able to read me. It’s safer that way. The less people know, the less they can hurt you.

  “Doc and I have had our problems, but we’re working it out.”

  “You said earlier you grew up in foster care? How did that happen?”

  I let out a long sigh. I should have guessed he wouldn’t wait until tomorrow.

  “I was kidnapped by my nanny when I was about two. She died when I was five, and I went into foster care until Zeke found me when I turned seventeen.” That was the long and short of it, minus the major details.

  “I’m surprised she was able to hide from your father for that long. He has ways of finding what he wants.”

  “And my mom had ways of countering them.” I let a small smile slip out. I used to hate Claire, but then I realized everything she did was to protect me. She loved me in ways no one else ever could.

  “So, you still think of her as your mother?” Nathaniel sat on the van floor, and I followed suit.

  “Yeah, she’s the only mother I’ve ever known, and she loved me.”

  “I don’t think Georgina would be what you’d call mother material.” Nathaniel shifted, trying to get comfortable.

  “That’s an understatement.”

  Before he can ask anything else, we hear Wade begin his spiel by asking if there’s anyone there.

  Nathaniel and I both roll our eyes, but we do shut up and listen. We are supposed to be monitoring everything, after all.

  But we both know it’s going to be a long night.

  Chapter Eleven

  As I suspected, it was a long night. My watch laughs at me when I see it’s after four in the morning. Nathaniel dozed off, and I let him sleep. It kept me from having to answer more questions. At least he’d stopped asking such personal ones when he saw I wasn’t going to give him more than the most basic of answers. I don’t trust him. I want to, but my instincts have never been wrong, no matter how much I would like to believe otherwise.

  The screens have the boys still wandering around, trying to get the ghost to talk to them, while Doc and Seth have set up shop in the baby’s room. That is a smarter move, even though the ghost hasn’t shown up yet.

  Which is strange. One would think she’d surface for air and pitch a fit because her food supply is gone. Or maybe she’s waiting us out, knowing the family will come home eventually. I don’t know if this is the first time she’s struck or not, since Doc’s assistant didn’t have a lot of time to really dig into the history of the place. Maybe I’ll go look at the library tomo
rrow too.

  I laugh at myself. Me, actually thinking about going into the library to dig through old records. Don’t get me wrong; I like to read. It’s a new habit I picked up, but I read on my Kindle, and I get to stay out of libraries. Not my favorite place to go. I’ve run into a few nasty ghosts in libraries before.

  Maybe I can sweet-talk Mary into doing it. She likes libraries. Something about the smell of old books. My nose wrinkles at the thought. I do not like the musty smell that permeates the air in libraries.

  The ache in my back is getting worse. It comes from having my butt plastered on the floor all night. Glancing at Nathaniel to make sure he’s not awake, I take off the headset and silently let myself out of the van so I can stretch.

  It’s quiet. All the houses on the street are dark, a few with porch lights burning against the silky strands of the night. An owl hoots in the distance, breaking through the silence that crowds the street.

  Now that I think about it, I don’t hear anything on this particular street. No cats or dogs, no scurrying of little creatures, no crickets. There’s not a sound to be heard except for my breathing. It shouldn’t be this quiet out here.

  My gaze sweeps the street, taking in both sides, looking for any signs of life, but there are none. It has to be the ghost, or what used to be a ghost. I’m honestly not sure what it is now, except an entity full of rage and bent on revenge.

  She must be around here, or the animals wouldn’t be hiding, but she’s not showing herself to anyone in the house. Something that angry, it makes no sense it would hide from free food. The people in that house are inviting her in, trying to get her to come forward. So, why is she staying hidden?

  I glance back inside the van, and Nathaniel’s head is down, his chin tucked into his chest. How he can sleep right now, I have no idea. I’ve never been able to pass out like the dead through anything. He must get that from his dad.

  Shooting a quick text to Doc, I start for the back of the house. I want to look around since the ghost has decided to crawl into her tomb and stay there. If she’s not out, she’s not a danger to me.

  I might be curious, but I’m not stupid, which is why I texted Doc to come out back. This chickie takes no chances. When you learn the hard way, it sticks with you.

  Those boys can go around holding up their static boxes that are supposed to capture voices and their EMF detectors all day. It won’t do them a darn bit of good. If I’m right, we’ll not get anything from her tonight.

  The back yard is as neat as the front. Several small flowerbeds are sewn around the deck and two big willow trees that give the back yard ample shade. A swing set and one of those wooden playhouses sit under one of them. An overturned tricycle sits in the yard alongside a kiddy pool.

  If not for the silence, it would be an average, ordinary backyard.

  The back door squeaks open, and Doc slides out, looking behind him before closing the door. The Scooby Boys have been trying to insinuate themselves into his investigation, but he’s proven adept at keeping them at arm’s length. Points to Doc for that feat. Those guys are persistent, if nothing else.

  “What’s up, Mattie?”

  Doc also refuses to call me Emma when no one else is around. Not that I blame him. He’s known me as Mattie since I was at least two. I still haven’t gotten around to discussing that picture I found of me and my mom, Claire Hathaway, in his briefcase. Maybe one day I’ll give him the opportunity to tell me about it, but that’s a long way down the road.

  “What’s wrong?” His brown eyes are wide and watchful.

  “You tell me.” See if the Spook Doctor hears what I do.

  A big nothing.

  He cocks his head, trying to figure out what I know that he doesn’t.

  It’s very telling to watch him work through the problem. He studies everything with a sharp eye I’d attribute to being a trained police officer, but Doc is an investigator. I can see him run through the gambit of possibilities then discard each one until he lands on the truth.

  “It’s silent as a tomb out here.”

  I nod. “Yup. I thought it was a little odd. I mean, there’s noises, but nothing on this street. I think our ghost has either scared them all off or eaten those brave enough to take a stand.”

  “It’s not the wild west, Mattie.” A rueful smile catches at Doc’s lips.

  “Well, it kinda is, though,” I argue. “The supernatural is a realm not many believe in, let alone try to fight. Those of us who do are the lawmen.”

  “Let me guess, you plan on opening your own Pinkerton Detective Agency for the supernatural?” He says it jestingly, but it sparks an idea. An idea I would have run away from two years ago, but not now.

  Dan always tells me I’ll make an excellent cop. As if I would ever join the police force. Cops and I don’t get along. Never have, never will.

  But a private investigator?

  Now, that’s something to think about. If I can connect with all the hunters out there fighting on their own, we might be able to pool resources and actually do something and back each other up. It could save lives.

  Too many die from trying to fight alone. Even when we’re not alone, sometimes we still die. Eli is a case in point. He was on my side. He died to protect me. I still wonder if there was something I could have done, should have done.

  Nope, not going there right now. Focus on the case at hand.

  “The ghost is hiding.” Best to steer him back to the case too. If he gets any ideas I’m thinking of opening my own agency when I graduate, I can hear the lectures now. As excited as Doc is about my abilities, he’s very much against anything that puts me in real danger.

  “I don’t believe we’ll be getting anything tonight.” Doc rolls his head to relieve some of the stress. “Seth has been taking recordings all night in the nursery, but even the temperature is normal.”

  “Has anyone gone down in the…”

  That’s when we hear the screaming.

  The basement.

  Chapter Twelve

  Doc and I burst through the back door right off the kitchen. The basement door is tightly closed.

  Mary comes rushing into the kitchen, her face white as a ghost.

  “What’s wrong?” I grip her hands in mine, trying to calm her down.

  “S…Sethhh,” she whispers.

  “Seth?” Doc’s face pales. “What’s wrong with Seth?”

  Mary shakes her head and bursts into tears. Doc doesn’t waste another second. He takes off running and nearly knocks Eric over in the process.

  “You should go help Doc,” Eric says and takes Mary from me, wrapping her in his arms. “The guys are with him, but…”

  I don’t waste another minute and take off running right behind Doc. The house, which had felt empty earlier, is pulsing with energy. The ghost is awake.

  Seth is sprawled on the nursery floor, his face a chalky white. He’s unconscious, and his breathing is shallow. Not only that, but the ghost is attached to him. I don’t think anyone else can see her, but I can.

  I jam my hand into my pocket and pull out the small pocketknife I carry, the blade made completely of iron. Dan had it made for me. It’s small enough to carry with me, but not big enough that anyone would consider it a threat.

  But this ghost is going to.

  I push Ethan of out my way and stab the thing right in the neck. When it doesn’t move, I do it again. This time, she hisses and turns to look at me.

  Uh-oh.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have poked a violent, soul sucking ghost with the equivalent of a stickpin.

  She grins, recognizing me. I bet I taste way yummier than Seth. I’m full of ghost energy, the next purest thing to an infant soul.

  The boys are all looking at me like I’m crazy, but Doc’s gaze is sharper. “It’s her?”

  “Yeah, and she’s pissed.” I take three steps backward, and the ghost follows me, mimicking my every movement.

  An idea takes hold, and I take several more steps, drawing
her as far away from the others as I can before I open my own nuclear weapon.

  Without even thinking about it, I open a circle to The Between around her, effectively trapping her. She snarls at me, and it’s my turn to grin.

  Gotcha, Ghostie.

  “What the…?” Wade whispers. “The EMF is spiking off the charts.”

  “Did you…?” Doc cocks his head while trying to rouse Seth.

  “I did. It’s the only thing I could think of to trap her, or did you want me to let her go back to snacking on Seth?”

  “Of course not, but you can’t leave that open indefinitely.”

  “Sure, I can. I used to sleep with it open around my bed.”

  Doc stares at me incredulously. “Did your teacher never explain why that’s not a good idea?”

  “Uh, no?” I don’t recall ever telling Kane I did that, but now is not the time to play confession with Doc. He’ll only yell at me.

  Doc shakes his head. “Boys, go call an ambulance.”

  When Wade looks ready to argue, Doc gives them a stare that is worthy of my old social worker, Nancy Moriarity. I miss her.

  “Fine, but I have questions that will be answered.” Wade stares pointedly at me.

  “I’m sure you do, but right now we need to get medical attention for Seth. He’s not waking up, and that is concerning.”

  Frowning, I leave the murderous ghost in her trap and go over to kneel beside Doc’s assistant. He’s not waking up. In fact, he’s as eerily silent as the street. Sure, he’d moaned when the ghost let him go, but he’d fallen so still and quiet. Just like the street.

  “This is my fault.”

  “No, it’s not.” Doc runs a hand over his eyes. “He knew the risks…”

  “She was hiding when everyone was paired up, but I called you outside, leaving Seth alone. It’s what she was waiting for.”

  Doc’s mouth falls open in a silent O. He hadn’t thought of that yet.

  “Daniel is right. You’re going to make an excellent police officer,” he finally says. “You’re always thinking three steps ahead.”

 

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