by E. E. Holmes
That cinched it: Campbell was indeed a pawn. His shock, confusion, and desperation were real; not even the best of actors could fake the swirling, colliding emotions now reflected on his face.
Campbell walked toward the middle of the room, but stopped several feet short of the Circle, clearly too nervous to approach it further. Every eye was now drawn to the Circle.
“What is it, Jeremiah?” Marigold asked in a whisper.
“I have no idea,” Campbell said. “It looks like witchcraft or Devil worship!”
Judging by Campbell’s horrified fascination as he stared at the Circle, it seemed as if he thought Satan had just materialized in our midst, complete with a pitchfork and cloven hooves. Even with my nerves stretched as taut as bowstrings, I was still able to register my annoyance at the quintessentially ignorant reaction that some people had to anything even remotely pagan.
Hannah, in an effort to cover our asses, chimed in. “Who do you think put it there, Mr. Campbell? Could one of the staff have done it?”
With his characteristic smoothness now decimated, Campbell opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, unable to answer. He had no reassuring smile for us, no flawlessly prepared speech to put us at ease. He was now a flustered, terrified man who’d finally come to realize that he was entrenched in something more complicated—and malevolent—than he’d ever suspected.
“I don’t know, but I think… I think we’d better stay away from it, whatever it is,” Campbell said at last. “No one go near it. I’m going to have the staff seal off this room until we know what these markings are and how they got here. I must find my angel. I’m canceling all further communication sessions until we get to the bottom of this.”
Without another word to us, Campbell staggered from the room, giving the Circle a wide berth as he walked away. He barked instructions to a bewildered Maya, who had just appeared in the hallway with a walkie-talkie in her hand, ready to call security.
“Well, that was certainly an adventure wasn’t it?” Marigold said enthusiastically, standing up. I gave her a cursory smile in return, but my real attention was on Talia, who—with her eyes full of tears—was now slipping out the door onto the porch. As she closed the door, Grayson appeared beside her. As I watched him hovering protectively, he turned and stared at me again.
Finn appeared beside me. “Let’s go. We need to follow Campbell and see where he goes.”
“You and Hannah will have to do it,” I said. “I’ve got some damage control to do with Grayson and Talia.”
“But that’s not in the plan. We need—”
“Finn, I’ve got to do it now,” I said, cutting him off. “Right away. If Grayson starts following me around or telling the other spirits about me, we’re screwed.”
“We’re screwed already!” Finn hissed. “Perhaps you missed it, but the angel now knows the Durupinen are trying to trap it.”
I scowled. “Don’t be sarcastic with me. This is important, too.”
Finn looked like he wanted to argue further, but he pressed his lips together and took a deep breath through his nose. “Fine. Hannah and I will follow Campbell. Just… be quick about it.”
“I will.” I squeezed his hand surreptitiously before following Talia outside. I didn’t know what, exactly, I could do to help her, and I didn’t know how I was going to calm a spirit as angry as Grayson, but I had to try. The angel would just have to wait; not everything in life was about the Durupinen.
23
Forbidden Meldings
AS I WALKED ONTO THE PORCH, I knew who I would see before I even turned around. Grayson was standing just behind me, and I didn’t need to be an Empath to keenly feel the pain radiating off of him like heat.
“You can see me,” he said curtly, without preamble. There was a frustrated anger in his voice, but it wasn’t directed at me.
“Yes,” I whispered, giving him a conspiratorial nod. Grayson understood.
I leaned myself on the porch’s railing and scanned the area. At this early hour all seemed deserted, but I wasn’t taking any chances—I couldn’t be seen talking to thin air. I walked over to the corner of the porch, which was out of direct sight for anyone in the house, and faced the lawn. Anyone who happened to catch a glimpse of me from behind would think I was just taking in the morning’s beauty.
I subtly motioned for Grayson to follow. He came to rest directly in front of me, floating above the lawn. “That’s why you rescued her from the pond. You heard me that night—heard everything I said, understood all of it.”
“Yes. Every word,” I answered, as reassuringly as I could.
“And you… there’s something else. You can send me… home.”
“Yes, I can. And I will… if that’s what you want.”
I could almost see Grayson’s collision of conflicting emotions; for an instant this confusion threatened to tear him apart. But then he swallowed those feelings and set his face with determination. “You’ve got to help me first. Talia. I have to explain to her.”
“I’ll try to help you, but you need to promise not to give me away. I can’t let the other spirits know what I am yet. It’s not time.”
Grayson didn’t ask questions or argue. He simply nodded and said, “Whatever you need—just, please… please help me.”
“We also need to be quick. Campbell’s angel now knows my friends are I are here—we might not have a lot of time left to stop it. That has to be my priority, do you understand?”
Grayson nodded in assent. “I don’t know what that thing is,” he said, “but it’s no angel.”
“I know,” I replied, as much to Grayson as myself.
“Will you come with me?” Grayson pleaded. “Talia is alone now.”
We set off across the lawn, with Grayson leading the way. He led me right to Talia, who was sitting on a bench by the edge of the pond. Her agonized face was red and swollen from crying. She looked up and saw me standing there—apparently all alone—and laughed aloud.
“Wow. Why is it always you who finds me when I’m losing it? You must think I’m unhinged,” Talia said, wiping more tears from her eyes; it was a futile effort, though—her eyes just kept filling right back up again. “Am I confirming all of your suspicions about how screwed up Hollywood people are?”
“No, of course not. I just came to see if you were alright,” I said quietly.
She gestured to her face with a wry half-smile. “I’m most definitely not alright, and I’m tired of pretending that I am. Have you ever had one of those days when… when it’s like every painful emotion you’ve ever had is pressing itself right up against you from the inside? Where it’s so bad that if someone brushes against you or looks at you the wrong way, you’ll just go to absolute pieces?” She paused, trying, once again, to dry her eyes. “God, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“Actually I know exactly what you’re talking about,” I said, very truthfully. You see this tattoo?” I asked, pulling my short-sleeve blouse all the way up to my shoulder. “It represents a whole year of my life filled with nothing but days like that. We all have them. It’s called being human—and it’s allowed, you know.”
As if Talia had been waiting for someone to give her permission to be “human,” something in her eyes softened gratefully in relief. “I never really used to be this emotional,” she began, “which you might think is weird for an actor. We’re supposed to have all that raw emotion right in our back pockets, ready to exploit when the cameras start rolling.”
“Yeah, I’ve always heard that the best actors are pretty screwed up in real life,” I said.
She laughed again. “I was always remarkably unscrewed up for an actor. Until recently.”
Grayson let out a soft moan of agony. I shot him a look which I hoped conveyed both “I’m sorry” and “be quiet” at the same time.
“If it makes you feel any better, I was remarkably screwed up from the beginning. Maybe I missed my calling,” I offered.
“We could
… trade,” Talia said. “You can do the acting thing and I’ll… sorry, I have no idea what you do.”
I smiled grimly. “Stick to acting. Trust me.”
Talia wiped at her eyes again. “I never should’ve come here.”
“Is it okay if I sit down?” I asked.
She nodded and scooted over on the bench to give me room. The morning sunlight sparkled cheerfully off the water. It was much easier to look at the pond’s glimmering beauty than at each other, even though the water’s very brightness seemed to be mocking us.
“Why did you come here?” I blurted out suddenly. “Sorry… that came out wrong. We’re all here for the same reason. What I meant was, how did you find out about Campbell?”
Talia hesitated a moment, then began, “He was at a party I attended. It was the first time I’d been out since… in a while. I didn’t even want to be there, but my friend dragged me. She swore I’d start feeling more like a human if I started doing human things again, which was a goddamned lie. Instead, I got wasted off two glasses of champagne because I hadn’t really eaten in days. And then I accidentally locked myself out on a balcony.”
I grimaced. “So, as first outings go, not very successful.” My grimace was real; a pang of guilt had shot through me. Building intimacy on the basis of my lies was no way to start a relationship. I could only hope that she’d forgive me.
“Couldn’t really have gone worse,” said Talia. “I was just about to start banging on the window and shouting for help when Jeremiah came out. He opened the door and said, “I’m terribly sorry, do you two want to be alone?”
I faked a shiver. I didn’t know how else to respond—all I could manage to say was a vague, “Oh?”
“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head. “I was creeped out too. I remember looking around and asking, ‘What are you talking about? It’s just me out here.’ Then Jeremiah got all flustered and started apologizing. Looking back on it, I wonder if it was all an act—if he was setting me up. At the time, though, I was too desperate for… too desperate to consider that possibility. I guess that’s how Campbell reels people in.”
“He certainly finds people at their most vulnerable moments, that’s for sure. I don’t think he’s trying to hurt us, though, if that’s any consolation.”
“I don’t know. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t,” she said, shrugging. “He’s either a far better actor than I am, or he really believes in what he’s doing.” She took a deep breath and stared the at the pond for a moment. “Anyway, Jeremiah told me that… that Grayson was here with me.” Talia’s voice caught on Grayson’s name, and I wondered if it was the first time she’d spoken it out loud since he’d died—other than to the paparazzi, of course. “He told me Grayson was sending me a message—that he was so sorry for leaving me, and that he wanted me to keep the ring. It’s a family heirloom, the ring he gave me. The family wanted me to give it back, but Campbell told me Grayson wanted me to keep it.” She ran a finger along the chain around her neck; I knew the ring lay concealed in the folds of her shirt. “Campbell left then, but I was too overwhelmed to follow him. But when I sobered up, I was desperate to talk with Grayson. I had so much I needed to say.”
Grayson made another sound, like he wanted to speak. I made the tiniest of gestures by my side, instructing him to wait.
“Jess!” Milo’s voice, along with a tidal wave of nervous energy, broke through our connection. “I could only follow as far as the fireplace down here, the rest of the basement is Warded—I need one of you with me to go any further.” Milo groaned in frustration; he hated being held back by Wards. “But listen, when Finn and Hannah followed Campbell, he headed straight for the door Kyle showed you—then locked it behind him! And from what I can see down here, there’s no sign of the angel. But I did see Campbell go into a room. He’s holed himself up in there!”
“Okay, just give me a few minutes here,” I thought-spoke back to him, attempting at the same time to send a calming energy to him. “And try to center yourself, you’ll give me an aneurysm bursting through the connection like that.”
“Girl, you are not telling me to calm down right now!” Milo cried. “I’m telling you the angel is missing and Campbell is locked in that base—”
“And I’m telling you I will be right there!” I replied firmly, and pushed him out of my head. I tried to refocus on Talia.
“…had my agent track Campbell down, and I came here. I was sure closure with Grayson would help me move on, but he’s not communicating with me anymore. Jeremiah insists that he’s here, that he’s listening, but Grayson won’t speak to me. I just don’t understand why he’d…” Talia couldn’t finish; she dissolved into tears again.
“Because that man is using us!” Grayson shouted, unable to contain himself any longer. “I let him and that black angel speak for me because I wanted to say good-bye—but I didn’t think Talia would remember it in the morning, because she was so drunk. So I decided to stay, to try again. But now—”
I turned to Grayson and muttered as quietly as I could, “Wait. Please.”
But I hadn’t been quiet enough. Talia looked at me, confused. “Who are you talking to?”
I took a deep breath. Apparently, I was shit at undercover work; I’d already revealed myself to Kyle and Grayson, and now I had to tell Talia the truth, too. That she deserved to know the truth was only a small comfort.
“Talia, I don’t have a lot of time here, so I’m just going to come right out with it. I’m not here at Whispering Seraph because I lost someone I love. I’m here because I can see and speak with the spirits.”
“You… what?” Talia asked; her face went perfectly blank, as if I’d suddenly started speaking another language.
“My sister and I… we can both see ghosts. In fact, we help them to Cross over when they’re stuck here.”
Talia frowned at me, her mouth pulling itself into a tight knot of anger. “If this is a joke, it’s a terrible one.”
“I’m not joking,” I said. “Believe me, I frequently wish it wasn’t true. But the fact is, my sister and I are here to take Campbell down. When we heard about the Sanctuary at Whispering Seraph, we thought Campbell was probably a scam artist preying on people.” I paused for a moment, wanting to tell her more but knowing I couldn’t. “There’s… more to it than that, but basically, that’s why we’re here.”
I’m not sure why she believed me, but I saw my truth light up in Talia’s eyes. I went on before she could ask me the hundreds of questions she was surely formulating.
“As you can probably tell from that session, things are falling apart here—I may not have another chance to do this with you. Grayson is here with us, right now, and he can hear you.”
Talia shook her head at me. “No, he isn’t.”
“Yes, he is. He came here with you. He’s the one who told me you needed help in the pond—that’s why I went in after you. He’s been following you, keeping an eye on you, but he’s been staying hidden during the communication sessions.”
“Why? Why would he hide when he knows how desperately I want to talk to him?” Talia whispered. She was scanning the empty air around us, aching for a glimpse of Grayson.
“He was afraid Campbell was taking advantage of you—and using him to do it,” I told her. “Is that right?” I added over my shoulder to Grayson. Talia stared wildly at what appeared to her to be nothing but air.
Now that he was finally getting a chance to speak to Talia directly, Grayson seemed almost unable to form the words. “Yes!” he finally gasped. “It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to her! God no! It’s Campbell! The way he manipulates what we say, leaving people wanting more. He practically traps his clients—and their wallets—here!”
I relayed this to Talia, who dropped her face into her hands. “I should’ve known better than to come here. I did know better. But I was so desperate!”
“And I never should’ve let him say good-bye for me on that balcony,” said Grayson. “Because Campbell doesn�
��t let people say good-bye.”
I told Talia this, and she heaved a huge, shuddering sigh. “And that’s why people stay! They never really want to say good-bye, and Campbell makes sure they never do.”
“Jess!” Milo called again, breaking through my mental block. “I am not messing around here, you’ve got to get inside! The staff is coming around, ordering everyone into their rooms. The place is going into lockdown!”
“Okay, okay!” I said to Milo, and then turned back to Talia. “Look, I’m not supposed to do this, but I need to get back to my sister. I don’t know how well this will work, or for how long—maybe only a few minutes. But it should be enough to say good-bye. Grayson, come over here.”
Looking puzzled, Grayson floated over so that he stood just over my shoulder. I extracted a pen from my purse and grabbed Talia’s wrist.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, with an expression on her face that was at once bewilderment, concern, and hope.
I muttered the words to the Melding as quickly and quietly as I could, while drawing the necessary runes onto Talia’s hand. I felt a gentle dissipating, a lifting of the limits of human sight. Then I heard Talia gasp, and I knew the Melding had worked.
“Is… is that him? I think that’s him!” Talia said. She was squinting at the place where Grayson stood.
“Yes! It’s me! You can see me!” Grayson cried, floating closer so that he was kneeling before her, a supplicant on his knees.
“I can hear him!” Talia sobbed. “It’s so faint. He sounds so far away.”
“That’s because he is far away,” I said gently. “You belong in two different worlds now. I could forge a clearer connection if I knew you both better. But I know something about good-byes and losing someone you love, and that was just enough for me to connect you, I guess.”
“Oh God, thank you!” Talia whispered. “Thank you so much!”
“I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t waste this time. Say what you need to say before the connection fades, and let each other go—or you’ll never be able to move on, either of you.”
