At least, not that I can find. To help her, I need something that belonged to her or something that would be familiar, anything to reawaken even a whisper of a memory of who she was.
That’s something to worry about tomorrow. First things first. I need to defuse the nuclear weapon about to explode. I raise one hand, palm outward. I can feel the trapped souls inside her. They’re scared and angry, but they’re also evil. Hungry. Starving, really.
Wraiths are scavengers in The Between, all of them fighting over the random lost soul that accidentally finds its way into The Between without a guide. And I do mean rare. Only a reaper can open a doorway to that plane. Sometimes souls get scared, break away from their guides, and get eaten before the reaper can do anything.
So, the wraiths starve for who knows how many months or years at a time. It’s the hunger I’m feeling in the pit of my stomach. Gnawing pain that demands to be fed.
“Don’t get lost in the emotions.” Kane’s voice breaks through the fog starting to cloud my mind, and I shake my head. These things are dangerous, even housed within Miss Piggy.
Time to get this done. I plunge my metaphysical hand inside the ghost and feel for the souls. They flock to my light like bees to honey. As I consume them, my skin begins to crawl and itch. It feels like some icky, dark substance is inching its way up my arm. Heavy, dark molasses, the kind my grandmother uses to make her gingerbread cookies. I remember turning the bottle up and watching it ooze out into the bowl. That is exactly what this feeling reminds me of.
Without warning, hundreds of images assault me. I can see how each soul I consume died. Some were ordinary deaths, but most were horrific ones. These souls did awful things in life and ran from death, only to end up as a hollow shell. If they weren’t such evil creatures, I’d feel bad for them.
With each soul lost, my ghost loses more and more of her mojo, and her struggles are getting fainter and fainter, until there’s only her left. I’ve got her in my hands, holding her broken soul, one as broken as mine.
There is no fear. Only hate. She wants nothing more than to destroy everything she touches. I could take her soul apart, shred it into nothingness. The ability lives within me, but then I remember Kane’s warning. His bosses are just waiting to use the smackdown on me. I’m not going out like that.
Instead of ending her, I drop the circle of The Between and let her go. She flees instantly, heading straight for Nathaniel, but like me, she bounces off him. He is protected.
“Your eyes…” Nathaniel takes a step away from me.
“I was afraid of this.” Kane slides to the right, trying to put himself between me and my brother.
“Her eyes are black.”
“That’s because I’m part demon, same as you.” Really, the pot shouldn’t call the kettle black.
“You know about that?”
“Didn’t you just tell me we should know the people who have the ability to destroy us?”
“Yeah.” He tries to smile, but it falls flat. “My eyes have never done that, though. No one in my family has demonic eyes.”
“I’m special that way.” I turn to Kane. “How do I get these things out of me? I’m having some strange and disturbing thoughts.”
“Like what?”
“Like how I have this gnawing hunger to consume you, Kane.”
My hands shake with the effort not to grab him. It wasn’t so bad a minute ago, but the longer these things are inside of me, the need gets stronger and stronger. The ick has slithered up my arms, around my shoulders, seeking an entrance. I need these things gone, like, yesterday.
“Give them to me.” Kane holds out his hand.
“Won’t these things do the same to you?”
“No, they won’t. I don’t have a human body anymore. I can house them and return them to The Between. Give them to me.”
That’s all I need to hear. Taking his hand, I open myself up and let him leech the little suckers out of me, but when he does, all my energy goes too, and before long, another darkness overwhelms me, and I sink into the oblivion of unconsciousness.
Chapter Fourteen
The first thing I hear when I finally wake up is arguing. My headache is gone, at least, but I feel like I’ve been on a three-week bender. My whole body hurts, and I’m sick to my stomach. No headache is a major plus, though.
“How do we know he didn’t do something to her?” Mary tries to whisper but fails miserably.
“Kane said he didn’t,” Eric says, sounding more agitated than I’ve heard him in a while. “He said she’ll wake up when her body’s ready to, and not until.”
“I’m right here, you know.” I can hear the exasperation in Nathaniel’s voice.
“I know,” Mary retorts. “I’m just not talking to you until I hear from my sister that you didn’t do something to her.”
“She’s my sister too,” Nathaniel rebukes. “I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“That has yet to be proven,” Mary tells him. Boy, does she sound pissed.
“He didn’t do anything.” I force my eyes open and find myself staring up at the ceiling in Doc’s van.
“Oh, thank God,” Mary breathes and is beside me in seconds. “I got so scared when you wouldn’t wake up. Don’t keep doing that to me, Mattie.”
“Mattie?”
I turn my head to see Nathaniel frowning. Of course, he has no idea or he’s a very good liar, but it takes one to know one, doesn’t it?
I am an exceptional liar, and I think my brother and I share that.
“My name was Mattie Hathaway when I was in foster care,” I explain and sit up. “Remind me never to take in that many souls again. It hurts like nobody’s business.”
“What happened?” Mary asks, fussing like a mother hen.
“Didn’t Nathaniel tell you?”
“Well, yes, but I want to hear it from you.”
I smile ruefully. Leave it to Mary to go into overprotective mode. She has good reason, though. I’ve almost died more times than I can count.
“I trapped Miss Piggy in a circle of The Between, not realizing she’d gorge on the wraiths. She was a ticking bomb, and we had to defuse her. Kane couldn’t because she’d suck him dry, so it was up to me. I took in all the souls she ate before letting her go. Only that many souls is not so good for me. I guess it knocked me out after Kane took them all from me.”
“See?” Nathaniel raises a brow in an I-told-you-so manner.
Mary shoots him a disdainful glare in return.
“Miss Piggy?” Eric cracks a smile, but it does little to hide the worry on his face. I scared him. I think this is the first time he’s seen me pass out from a ghost experience. Well, aside from when he was a ghost and accidentally almost killed me.
“She was sucking up wraiths like a pig. What else should I have called her?” I try to smile, but even my face hurts. “How’s Seth?”
“Dr. Olivet rode with him to the hospital,” Mary says, finally calming down. “We told him we’d text him as soon as you woke up.”
“Already done.” Eric holds up his phone.
“What time is it?” I ask, rolling my shoulders to try to get some of the stiffness out of them. Not sure if it came from my ghost adventure or the hard bed I’m sitting on.
“It’s a little after five in the morning.” Mary yawns. “I’m beat.”
“Let’s go to Zeke’s and crash. Mrs. Jones should have breakfast ready soon.” My dad’s cook and housekeeper is the best. I adore her chocolate chip pancakes.
“Can you drop me at my hotel first?” Nathaniel asks. “I’m pretty beat too.”
“You can crash at Zeke’s too.” Might as well rip that Band-Aid off sooner rather than later.
“I can’t, Emma.” Nathaniel frowns. “How will he react if I show up unannounced?”
“He’ll deal. Now, let’s get out of this cramped van and go partake of some chocolate chip pancakes.”
“I love those.” Nathaniel’s eyes light up. Well, he has good taste in b
reakfast, at least.
“Me too.” I give him a slight smile, and we all pile out of Doc’s van, Eric making sure to lock it up tight before pocketing the keys, and then climb into my car.
The ride to Zeke’s is quiet. We’re all exhausted, and I know Nathaniel and I are both preparing for my father’s reaction to him. Let’s just hope Zeke doesn’t try to kill him on sight.
My father lives outside of the city in a sprawling plantation home. It’s a functioning plantation too. Zeke grows crops like a regular farmer. I think it’s cotton, but I’ve never really bothered to find out. Farming holds zero interest for me.
The house, on the other hand…that, I adore. I love historic buildings. It’s the artist in me. I’ve got sketch pads full of drawings of the house and the outbuildings. The architecture is divine with its sweeping columns and wide steps. The three-story structure is white with red shutters and a red door. It’s been very well taken care of. Zeke said he bought it about ten years ago and restored it to its full glory. He’s a bit of a home improvement buff. He did a lot of the restoration work himself.
We turn into the long driveway lined with weeping willow trees right up to the beginning of the gardens. From there it’s clear of trees all the way to the front door. Mary and I tend to park right in front of the steps, and someone always moves the car later.
My father’s butler, Jamison, greets us as we come in. He doesn’t even look surprised to see us. Nothing ruffles him.
“Good morning, Miss Emma.” His smile could defrost the frozen tundra. “I hope everything is okay?”
I yawn around my answer. “Fine. Just got done with a ghost hunt.”
He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. “I assume you’re all starving?”
“Yes.” Eric shuts the door behind him. “We are starved. I hope Mrs. Jones doesn’t mind us tagging along.”
“Of course not,” Jamison replies. “She loves a full house.” His eyes stray to Nathaniel.
“Jamison, this is Nathaniel.” I don’t add his last name for fear he’ll rush upstairs and wake Zeke.
“Good to meet you.” Jamison smiles and continues toward the kitchen. “Come along, and I’ll let Mrs. Jones know you’re all about to die of starvation.”
My stomach lets out a loud grumble of agreement, which prompts a lot of laughter. It’s not like I can control the bottomless pit.
Nathaniel sticks close to me, making me think he’s nervous about being in the same house with Ezekiel Crane. Given what he’s told me about our families, he’s probably wondering what Zeke is gonna say when he finds out who Nathaniel really is. I’m hoping things won’t go sideways, but with my luck, they probably will.
Mrs. Jones is humming when we get into the kitchen. She looks like she’s barely awake, but she’s as chipper as if she’s been up for hours. If I didn’t adore her, I’d have to hate her on principle. Morning people need to be drawn and quartered.
“Good morning, children.” She gives us her best smile, ignoring our grimaces at the word children. “I was told you’re starving. How does hash browns, pancakes, and eggs sound?”
“Chocolate chip?” I ask, taking a seat at the breakfast table.
“Of course.” Her crooked smile is on full display. “Regular for Eric, and blueberry for Mary, and…” Her voice trails off when Nathaniel sits beside me.
“This is Nathaniel. He’ll have chocolate chip too.”
Mrs. Jones is a lot shrewder than Jamison. Her eyes settle on my brother, and he shifts uncomfortably under her scrutiny. Her gaze bounces between us, and I see a flare of recognition before it clears. She knows exactly who this is.
“Of course. I just need to go do something, and I’ll be right back. Emma, why don’t you grab some drinks for your guests.”
“Two guesses where she’s going.” Eric slouches in his chair, yawning.
“I only need one.” I get up and head to the fridge. “I hope you’re ready to meet Zeke, Nathaniel.”
“I’m really not.” There is a bit of panic in his voice. “I’d rather he get used to the idea before he meets me.”
“Mrs. J is on her way up to wake him.” Eric takes the pitcher of OJ I give him and sets it down. “She pegged you the second she laid eyes on you.”
Zeke comes rushing into the kitchen a few minutes later. His gaze lands on me, checking to make sure I’m okay, and then settles on Nathaniel.
“Hey, Papa.” I stand and go to hug him. “We decided to come crash here after our ghost hunt.”
“You mean after you passed out cold,” Eric reminds me, and I groan. Did he have to lead with that?
“What happened?” Zeke asks, brushing his longish brown hair out of his face. He always reminds me of the actor who plays Ichabod Crane on Fox’s Sleepy Hollow. It’s not any one thing; he just looks like him. I swear they could pass for twins.
“A soul eater is terrorizing a family. We were trying to figure out a way to get it out of the house when I trapped it in a circle of The Between. Long story short, I had to fix the problem I made. Drained me a little, but I’m perfectly fine. Just starved and bone tired.”
“Emma Rose, you are not well enough yet to be taking on soul eaters.” If it isn’t for how worried I know he is, I’d say something snarky right about now. He loves me, so he gets a pass on trying to tell me what to do. I’ll do what I want anyway, but he doesn’t have to know that.
“It all turned out okay.” I shrug and go sit back down. “Papa, this is Aleric Nathaniel Buchard, my brother.”
“Yes, I do know who he is, ma petite, I just don’t know why he’s here.” Zeke takes the last seat at the table beside Mary.
“I came to meet my sister.” Nathaniel doesn’t show a bit of the nervousness he had a few minutes ago. Brownie points to him for that. My dad can be intimidating.
“Out of the blue, though?” Zeke’s stare could freeze an Eskimo. “Why now?”
“Because I only found out about her two weeks ago.” Nathaniel clears his throat and sips at his orange juice. “Georgina told us about her right before she left. My grandparents wanted me to wait until they had time to scope out the situation, but I wanted to meet her, so I booked a flight and did just that.”
“So you say.” Mary’s glaring at Nathaniel like he’s the devil.
“You don’t believe him?” Zeke turns his head in her direction.
“I don’t know, but I do know what you told us about his family, and I’m not going to let him hurt Em.”
“Neither am I,” Zeke assures her.
“I’m not here to hurt her.” For the first time all night, some of his frustration starts to shine through. “I just want to get to know my sister. That’s all.”
“Are you sure that’s all you want?” Zeke dials up his Voice, the one that can get the truth out of almost anyone. “You’re not planning to kill her and take her gifts, are you?”
“No, sir. I just want a chance to be her brother. She’s my family as much as she is yours. I want the same opportunity you have.”
Zeke’s nostrils flare. Nathaniel passed the test, but that means bupkis. There is a way to get around it. I never told Zeke that, though, and I’m not about to tell him now. I love my dad, but a part of me, the part that lived in foster care for so long, still needs a way to protect myself. Even from the one person who loves me more than anyone in the world.
“Zeke, if he wanted to hurt me, he could have done it earlier tonight. I was alone with him and Kane in the house. Nathaniel carried me out of the house when I passed out. He didn’t try anything shady.”
Still not sure if I believe him, but I want Zeke to stop throwing daggers at him.
“I don’t want you alone with him, Emma Rose.” He takes the morning paper Jamison hands him. “Not until I’m reassured he means you no harm. If the two of you want to get to know each other, then do it here where I can watch him.”
“I have a plane to catch in the morning, but I thought maybe we could have dinner?” Nathaniel gives me
a slight smile, knowing Zeke may not trust him, but he didn’t forbid me from talking to him. Not that it would matter if he did, but still. It’s nice to be able to make the old man feel good.
“I wanted to talk to Papa about trapping Miss Piggy anyway, so maybe between the three of us, we can come up with something. Dinner would be good.”
“Miss Piggy?” Zeke frowns. “Isn’t that a Muppet?”
Eric snickers, and even Mary has to turn away to keep from laughing at his confusion. I spend the rest of the morning telling him all about the soul eater, what happened to Seth, and the nuclear reactor she became.
At least one good thing came out of the day.
Zeke didn’t murder Nathaniel on sight.
Tomorrow, though? Could be a different story altogether. I’ll just have to wait and see.
Chapter Fifteen
My eyes blink open, and I shake my head. Sitting up, I throw the covers back and slip off the bed, my bare feet coming into contact with the cold wooden floor beneath me, making me shiver.
An uneasiness creeps over me, and I frown, looking around my small bedroom. Something isn’t right. I can feel it in my bones.
There doesn’t sound like anything’s amiss, but something disturbed my sleep. I check the baby’s crib, but he’s sleeping soundly.
We’re alone tonight, the other servants having been given the week off. Mr. Lewis, the butler, said he’d be back before dawn to help with the household chores. He knows taking care of the baby and the house wears me out.
I pull my robe on and open the bedroom door, listening. It’s as silent as a tomb. Glancing back at the baby to make sure he’s still sleeping, I make my way out into the hallway and down the stairs. I’m sure I locked up, but it’s never a bad idea to double check the locks. It wouldn’t do to have someone break in and steal the family I work for blind, especially on my watch.
Mrs. Harcourt already hates me. My son is her husband’s illegitimate child. He refused to let me move out. He wants his child raised in his father’s family home. Who am I to argue? My son will have an education and maybe marry into a better status than the one he was born into. I can keep my lover’s wife away from my boy while suffering the brunt of her wrath myself if it means a better life for him.
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