Spirelli Paranormal Investigations Box Set 2

by Kate Baray

  “Jack!” Marin called from the truck. “We need to go—now. Move it.”

  Indecision held him locked in place. A heavy weight settled over him. Pulled him down. He was suddenly so incredibly tired.

  “Jack.” Marin appeared from nowhere and tugged on his arm, urging him to the truck. “Come on. Let’s go. What you feel, it’s not real.”

  He didn’t care. Whether it was real or imagined, it felt real. He was so tired. And his skin hurt when he moved.

  “Ow.”

  A moment of clarity followed a sharp pinch to his arm.

  “Yeah,” Marin said. “Sorry. Move your feet, or I’m picking you up.”

  “Don’t.” The feel of her hand on his shoulder, firmly urging him forward, felt foreign. The contact unpleasant on his hypersensitive skin. His joints ached with each step he struggled to take.

  Marin opened the passenger door and shoved him into the seat.

  He opened his eyes, unsure how long they’d been closed.

  Landscape passed by, the colors bleeding together. Buildings, trees, and sky all blurred. Greys, greens, blues. That wasn’t right. Blue. He focused on the blue. The sky. Joy. So sharp it stung. His eyes burned with the beauty of the sky.

  “Jack, talk to me. What’s going on?”

  Jack opened his mouth, moved his lips. But his tongue was thick in his too-small mouth, and no words came. He could feel the cool air on his wet cheeks.

  “I’m driving as fast as I can. Just hang on.”

  More time passed, but the images that fled by his window were too much. The colors too bright, the emotions too full.

  Better not to see or hear.

  Better not to be.

  Jack stretched his neck. He felt like he’d just gone on a bender and forgotten to chug his regular bottle of water and three ibuprofen before he went to bed.

  “Hey.” Marin waved a hand in front of his face.

  “What the hell? Quit it.” He shoved her hand away. “Why are we in your car?” He looked out the window, but he didn’t recognize the gas station where they were parked. “Where are we?”

  “Waco.”

  Over an hour from Austin. More than an hour had passed since he’d been cognizant of his surroundings.

  “Jeez. My entire body hurts. Did you beat the crap out of me when I wasn’t looking?” Jack opened the car door. “I’ve got to stretch my legs.”

  Marin hopped out and followed him. “What do you remember?”

  Jack rubbed at his eyes. They had a gritty, dry feel that was familiar. “Please tell me I didn’t sit in the car and cry myself to sleep.”

  “Yeah, not exactly.”

  Jack stopped and turned to face her. “I was kidding. What do you mean, 'not exactly'?” But before she could answer, he remembered seeing the sky and the lightning strike of emotion that had followed. “Wait—old, crazy dragon. My house. Then weird shit started to happen.”

  “I’m not sure how, but this dragon’s essence seems to have telepathic abilities.”

  Jack looked around the parking lot. No passersby looked like they were eavesdropping. “So he used telepathy to make me cry? And feel like I’d been beaten by a baseball bat?”

  “That’s not how telepathy works. Not usually.” Marin dipped her head closer. “We use it to mind-speak, primarily with each other and sometimes with people.”

  “Oh, I won’t forget you yelling in my head. But that’s not what this was. No even remotely.”

  Marin cocked her head. “You remember?”

  “No, at least, not exactly. It’s like an old memory. Or a dream. You know the scenes and feelings were vivid when they originally happened, even though you can’t pull up a good, solid image. A memory of clarity but no actual clear pictures.”

  “I wasn’t sure I could outrun him.” Marin looked at a point just over his shoulder. “So I tried extending the veil I’d created to protect myself to include you.”

  “Seriously? You’re trying out shit you don’t know how to do on me—again.”

  “Would you rather we still be driving north? Because I’m not sure we could outrun him. He doesn’t have a physical form.”

  “If that’s true, why is he not playing his weird mind games on me now?” Jack surveyed the parking lot again. His scalp crawled as he realized that the entity could be within feet of him, invisible to human eyes.

  “He’s not here; he’s retreated. I’m guessing to the charity shop.”

  “So your veil worked.”

  “Yeah,” Marin said. “And is still working.”

  Jack locked his fingers behind his neck. “Are you telling me I’m tethered to you until we sort this guy out?”

  “You’re welcome. It wasn’t any inconvenience at all to exorcise the demon mucking about in your head.” Marin took an audible breath. In a much calmer voice, she said, “Look, I know this is my fault. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Having someone screw around inside my brain, well, it hasn’t improved my mood. But thanks for the mental delousing. Truly.” Jack did his very best to look sincere. “What’s the distance on this veil that’s protecting me?”

  Marin shrugged.

  Like he thought, he was tethered to Marin for the foreseeable future.

  “Are we safe to head back if you keep the veil up?”

  “Yes.” Marin frowned. “Don’t look at me that way. I’m sure. The tricky part was extending it to include you. But now that’s been done, it’s all good.”

  Jack knew there was something she wasn’t telling him. But as he climbed back into the truck, he decided he was too damn tired to worry about it. His last thought as he leaned his head back was that maybe her father had provided some useful information.

  Chapter Three

  Jack awoke with a jerk, the feeling of wind against his skin fading completely as his eyes opened. A sense of exhilaration slipped away as the world around him came into focus.

  He was still in the truck with Marin, but he recognized Austin in the muted light of dusk. He scrubbed his face with his hands. “What’s the plan?”

  Marin didn’t immediately answer. And as she continued to drive, Jack recognized the route they were taking.

  “The Junk Shop?”

  “We’re headed to the charity shop. I’d drop you off, but that leaves you unprotected, and there’s no telling if he’ll try to attack you again.”

  Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Had he been attacked? Jeez. That thing had scrambled his brains. It had gotten inside his head. It had more than attacked Jack—it had penetrated the deepest parts of his mind.

  “Wait. We’re going to the charity shop, where that thing lives?”

  Marin nodded, her eyes still on the road ahead.

  “Please tell me you have a plan.”

  She tipped her head to the side. “Yes.”

  “A not-shitty plan?”

  Silence followed Jack’s question.

  Essence of dragon. Not a physical presence. It couldn’t hurt him. Just like the dark couldn’t hurt him, and there were no monsters under his bed. He puffed out an annoyed breath. Unfortunately, drawing a conclusion with limited facts didn’t make it true. Now or when he was a kid.

  “We need a name for this thing,” Jack said. “‘Unnamed nasty thing in the charity shop attic’ just makes him seem creepier. And it’s too long.”

  Without hesitation, Marin said, “Joshua.”

  “Joshua? Any particular reason?”

  Marin glanced at him, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Does Joshua strike terror in the hearts of his enemies?”

  Jack choked back a laugh. “Sold.”

  “I’m going to open a small dimensional door in the attic. Not like at the airport. Just a small opening, as if I was ward-hopping.”

  “And then?”

  Marin uncurled her clenched fingers from the steering wheel. “Then I leave it open. And we hope that Joshua came here in error. Or at least that he wants to return to his body as much as we want him to l
eave. ”

  “You think he can’t work magic in the state he’s in.”

  “I have no idea.” Her forehead wrinkled as her eyes narrowed. “Even Dad and Lachlan don’t know. There’s no experience within our clan of a dragon who has sustained separation from his physical body as long as Joshua has. And that’s assuming it’s just been since the airport incident. For all we know, it’s been much longer. A dragon’s essence, his anchor, isn’t intended to function independently for long.” Marin frowned. “The separation is uncomfortable, and I can’t imagine that discomfort lessens with time.”

  “You think his body is sitting in that way station place?” Jack tamped down a surge of panicky claustrophobia. That closed-in, suffocating feeling was followed by a pang of sympathy for Joshua. His skin prickled, chilled by the mere thought of that place. “Doesn’t it hurt you to go there?”

  “You mean my hidey-hole? No. I wouldn’t want to vacation there, but it’s not unpleasant in any way.”

  Jack looked out the window. Almost dark, almost there. “It was cold. And I had no sense of time. I couldn’t tell if a second or an hour had passed.”

  “It’s not like that for me. It’s just a place.” Marin gave him a probing look, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

  “If Joshua can use telepathy—even in a bastardized form you don’t recognize—shouldn’t he be able to open his own door?”

  Marin tapped her thumb on the steering wheel. “If that’s the case, this won’t work. But telepathy isn’t magic; I think it’s more of a mental skill. Let’s hope he has no magical abilities.”

  And on that less-than-optimistic note, they arrived at the charity shop.

  Jack flinched at the sense of foreboding opening the car door seemed to trigger. Were those his own feelings? Or one of Joshua’s mind tricks? He hovered near the truck, door still open. He couldn’t walk in there without knowing if his mind was his own.

  “Your veil is intact?” Jack asked.

  “It is. Can you feel him?”

  Jack considered the question. Did he sense an individual behind the dark cloud that pushed against him? “I don’t have any sense of intent or personality. What I know for sure is that I’m afraid.”

  “The creepy feeling that some people get from dragons, take that and magnify it. Then you get what most people experience around a really old dragon. So if you have a strong urge to pee yourself or run away, that’s not mind control, telepathy, or anything other than being in the presence of an incredibly old dragon.” Marin raised her eyebrows. “The good news: that black-cloud-looming feeling means he’s here.”

  Fear he could handle. Possession of his mind…no. But Marin had him covered with her protective veil, so whatever happened he would remain himself. “Let’s do this.” A couple walked by and entered the shop. “Ah, did you check the business hours?”

  “Easier to get in if they’re open. For you, anyway.”

  Since Marin actually cared about civilian casualties, he was working on the assumption that she had a plan when he followed her into the store.

  A curved hip pressed into Jack’s groin.

  “Be still,” he whispered into Marin’s ear.

  “Not much room to move. And it’s hot.”

  “You’re not helping. And what did you expect—it’s a freaking closet.” The pall that Joshua’s presence cast wasn’t helping Jack’s mood. And from the bits of conversation they’d overhead as the store employees closed up, that pall had probably been felt by at least two former store employees. One had been institutionalized for a sudden psychotic break only two days prior. The other had become violent and attacked a customer.

  Marin went completely still. “I think they’re gone.” She waited another minute, and then opened the door. “Looks like everyone’s gone.”

  Jack shoved her out of the closet and followed on her heels. “Why don’t people avoid this place? Can’t they feel it?” He rolled his shoulders and neck, trying to loosen the stiffness a half-hour of restricted movement had caused. He hadn’t wiggled his ass every few seconds.

  “Hm. You’d be surprised. A lot of humans don’t sense anything. And some who do recognize an uncomfortable feeling discount it until it fades into the background.” She eyed him like a lab specimen. “Humans are weird.”

  “Well, those are both better options than beating the crap out of a guy for not having correct change. Prolonged exposure must have triggered those two employees’ problems. I really don’t understand why they don’t walk away if they do feel something.” Jack shook his head. “Any ideas on attic access?”

  They headed to the stairs labeled “employees only.”

  “No. But I’m guessing there’s a pull-down ladder from the ceiling someplace.” Once she’d reached the top of the stairs, Marin pointed to the right. “You check over there, and I’ll catch the other side.”

  “Theoretically, if Joshua can still do magic with only his anchor in this dimension, what exactly could he do?” Jack said over his shoulder as he headed down the hallway.

  Marin’s voice followed Jack into the room he was checking. “The regular stuff: sense magic, throw fire, and he’s probably got some superpowers related to his age. Ha—got it!”

  Red and blue lights flashed as a cruiser sped down the road. Jack hurried into the room where Marin had found the attic access. She’d already pulled the ladder down from the ceiling.

  “Don’t suppose you have a contingency plan if someone calls the police?” Jack asked.

  “Do you?” Marin quirked an eyebrow at him. When he didn’t reply, she started up the ladder.

  Jack hesitated. There was a reason children feared the monster under their bed and the darkness. It was a visceral response to predators and the unknown—and it seemed like common sense to him.

  Marin reached the top.

  Jack stood with one foot on the bottom rung. Climb the stairs or not. Face the beast or run. But it wasn’t a choice; not really. Jack started to climb the stairs.

  When he reached the top and climbed into the dusty and unused space—there was nothing. The black cloud of malevolence he’d expected to find wasn’t there. The same sense of foreboding persisted, but that was all.

  “Is he even here?”

  “Oh, yes.” A look of concentration passed across Marin’s face. “The door’s open. Now we wait.”

  “Okay, but I don’t—” Jack fell to his knees. Searing pain enveloped him.

  The protective veil peeled away from his body, leaving what felt like a weeping wound. He braced himself against the floor.

  If a soul could rip, it must feel like this. But then…

  Howling rage, despair, betrayal.

  Jack could do nothing but feel, bombarded by waves of emotions. He curled into a ball, trying—failing—to protect himself.

  He tried to separate out the two pieces winding together. Him, another. Jack, Joshua. Two, not one. He was himself and no one else.

  Himself.

  One.

  Pain turned hollow. His body was numb. And then world was a silent wash of grey.

  Jack shifted his head and groaned. Cool fingers stroked his temple.

  “Jack?” Marin’s voice. But small and uncertain, so unlike her.

  “Ugh. Shit.” Jack tried to sit up and failed. “Holy hell, my head hurts.”

  Marin half giggled, half sobbed. Completely unlike her.

  Jack craned his neck to look at her and winced when the throbbing exploded into pounding. “You weren’t possessed?”

  “No. Just scared shitless. Can you get up?” The cadence of her voice was all wrong. Thready, panicked.

  “Hm.” He struggled to a sitting position, and from there, Marin lifted him to his feet. When the room stopped spinning and his vision cleared, Jack understood. “He’s still here.”

  The pinched look on Marin’s face tightened even more.

  She gave him a supporting arm to the ladder, then said, “I’ll go first. Let me get halfway down and then follo
w. I won’t let you fall.”

  Leaving sounded like an excellent plan. As Jack carefully placed one foot after the other, he focused on one thought: one more step. By the time his feet hit the ground, he thought he was going to puke from the pain in his head. That one thought changed to: walk. Then his focus shifted to not puking. And that was how he made it to the car. One thought, one goal, and always moving forward.

  Sitting in the buttery-soft leather seats of Marin’s truck, Jack was seconds away from passing out. One thought, one goal. Stay awake. One thought, one goal. He had a message. “Help me.”

  “I know, buddy. I’m working on it,” Marin said.

  Jack could feel the acceleration of the car. “Help me.”

  Chapter Four

  Jack woke up in someone’s bed. Not his. It happened sometimes, sure, but he hadn’t been on a date the night before. And he felt like shit. If he’d crashed at some woman’s house, he shouldn’t feel quite this bad. He rubbed his eyes and frowned. “Help me.”

  “Hey.” Marin poked her head into the room. “You’re awake?”

  “Hm. Yeah. We’re at your house?”

  The door flew open and Lachlan, the McClellan clan’s supreme leader, walked in. Jack had only met the man briefly once before, but he was a memorable guy. He was surprised; he’d expected Marin’s father, Ewan.

  “Help—you don’t look like you need any help. Get your ass out of bed and come down to breakfast.” The giant of a man turned and left once he’d made his pronouncement.

  “Welcome to Chez Campbell. I’d apologize, but really, if I started, I’d never be able to stop. Weirdly, human women find him very attractive. He got in late last night. He chartered a flight, what with all of the dragon drama brewing.” Marin managed a weak smile. “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah. Sore, but otherwise fine. I passed out?”

  “More like fell into an exhausted sleep. You mumbled a few times that you needed help, then you conked out. I woke you up a few times and you seemed coherent, so Lachlan and I decided to let you sleep it off.”

  “I don’t remember waking up. Or how I got in bed.” Jack scanned the room for some sign of clothes. “Any chance you’ve got my clothes stashed somewhere?”