“I am Sister Agatha. I built this house almost two hundred years ago. I am the only truly free spirit left in Angel Manor.”
“What is it that you want, Sister Agatha?”
“I don’t have much time. The equinox weakens me, while the others grow strong. The living need to be away from the dead before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“The existing spells won’t hold the Angels when the equinox is here. Even the power of the salt borders will be diminished. It is their time, and they must perform their unspeakable acts. They will not spare the living. They will seek them out the same way they sought out the children. Get them out.”
Marie-Claire felt the spirit weaken; the house was siphoning off its energy.
“We will leave this house as soon as we can. But there are those who are tied to this house who can’t physically leave. And there are spirits here that need to be released.”
“No.” The word was a desperate scream that filled Marie-Claire’s head, and the elderly woman cringed. “You must not free the spirits of Angel Manor. If you do, you will put everyone in danger. Leave this house.” The face came close now, and Marie-Claire could feel the anger within it, the bed bucking as wildly as an angry bull.
“Holy shit, are you guys seeing this?” Darren sounded terrified, and there was loud banging all around. The spirit was manipulating their surroundings, but its strength was running out. Marie-Claire watched the shadows fade as its power drained. Then it disappeared and all was quiet again. The old woman’s heart hammered in her chest, and it took several minutes before she could move or speak again.
“Did you get all that?” Her voice betrayed her fatigue.
“I certainly did. That was insane.”
“Good, let’s go join the others.”
***
Ruben played the video again, and all eyes were on Freya and Logan.
“Yes, there, I can see her clearly. It’s a female figure and she’s dressed as a nun.” Freya looked around the surprised faces. “You can’t see her?”
Ruben shook his head. “I just see light.”
“I can see her too.” Logan frowned and put his fingers on the bridge of his nose, massaging the flesh gently. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you’re connected to the house.” Marie-Claire stood in the door opening, a flustered Darren behind her. “You will be far more sensitive to what this house has to offer than the others are. And, you are right, the woman was wearing a nun’s habit. Her name is Sister Agatha. I’m not sure, but I think she might be a defence mechanism of the house. She really doesn’t want us to release the spirits. What she does want is for us to leave.” The old woman waved her hand, her face was filled with fatigue. “I’ve seen this before at strong supernatural hotspots, spirits trying to protect the area from human activity. They are usually quite harmless, a lot of noise but no real fireworks.”
“Did you see what she did to the doors, or the bed you were sitting on?” Ruben frowned. “She was hardly powerless. Every door in the hallway slammed open and shut, and your bed actually left the ground a few times. You know spirits like that are dangerous.”
“It left her drained. I don’t think she has a lot of power left. She fears the equinox, and I think that might be the perfect time to release the spirits. I might have a plan as to how to go about it. There is powerful magic in the changing of the seasons.”
“The guys will return in a few hours. Will that be a problem?”
“It won’t be convenient, but if they keep out of the way, it should be fine. Things might get a little intense here tonight, though.” It was Ruben who answered the question. “We’ve dealt with onlookers before.”
“If these boys are in any way connected to this house, perhaps it’s for the best that they are around. You said yourself you have bonded with the house. Perhaps they’ve done the same?” Marie-Claire rested her white eyes on Freya, who shook her head, a pang of worry knotting in her stomach.
“I don’t know. I don’t think any of the guys had nose bleeds. I just don’t want them to see anything scary. They don’t know the house is haunted, and I want to keep it that way.”
Logan stepped up next to her. “I agree with Freya. When the guys come back, I’m going to let them collect their stuff. They’re going to stay in a B&B for a few days while you work your mojo. I can’t take a risk with these kids. Freya and I will stay, and I hope we’ll hear from Oliver too, but the rest of my group is getting out of this house.” His words flooded her with a sense of relief, and her hand found his. She wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed, and he responded to the gesture.
“Very well, if you believe that’s best. I don’t mind either way.”
“Good, then we agree.”
“If you don’t mind, we have a lot of things to prepare for the exorcism. We shall start the ritual at sundown. Your presence will be required, Miss Formynder, since you are the blood-link to this house.”
“I’ll be there. I promised the children I would help, and I will.”
***
It was late when the four young men and two counsellors spilled into the house, laughing and chatting. Logan greeted them in the entrance hall.
“You came home late.” He chided with a grin. “Did you guys have a good time?”
“It was awesome.” Terrence smiled brightly, and Logan realised how young the boy looked. “We should have done this earlier. There were these two women—”
Logan held up his hand to stop Terrence from talking. He was too drained to listen to their stories now, too eager to say what needed to be said.
“Listen, guys. There is some stuff going on around here, in the house, and you six need to clear out for a few days.”
“Now?” Jim rubbed his gleaming scalp. “It’s past half-nine, Logan.”
“I really want you to leave as soon as possible.” Logan hoped his friends and colleagues could see that he meant business.
“What’s going on?” Jim took a step forward, cocking his head, his thick beard standing out. “You’re acting very strange.”
“There’s been some stuff… in the house. We’re trying to sort it out.” Logan ran his hand across the back of his neck, and he wished he’d prepared more for this conversation.
“What kind of stuff?” John stepped forward now too, his brow low and furrowed. “What are you on about, mate?”
“I really don’t know how to explain this to you, to be honest, John.”
“Explain what?” John rested a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Let’s talk, you and I.” They stepped away from the curious stares of the others.
“What’s going on, Logan?” John repeated Jim’s question.
“There’s a ghost hunting team here.”
“Ghost hunting?” John laughed loud and deep, then his face turned serious. “You’re not kidding?”
“Nope, there is something going on in this house, and it’s insane.”
“Ghosts? Come on now, Logan. Don’t tell me you’re buying this crap?”
“I saw them, John.” Logan couldn’t look his friend and colleague in the eyes. “We saw some dead kids in the attic, and we saw some sort of ghost nun on the camera just now.”
“Ghost nun?” Jim’s voice was loud and his eyes were round. “Fuck that, I hate nuns.”
“I think it’s best if you and the boys leave.” Logan rested his hand on John’s arm and squeezed lightly. “Maybe just for a little bit, or maybe forever. I don’t know. I suggest you find a bed and breakfast tonight and either stay there for a few days or go back to Edinburgh.”
“Logan, come on…” John shook his head, a half incredulous smile frozen on his lips. “You’re not serious? Ghost nuns?”
Jim flinched again.
Logan sighed. “I’m deadly serious. I don’t know what to expect, but I don’t want the guys to be a part of this.”
“We can leave in the morning, mate. We’ve had a long day, we’re all tired,
and we don’t want to go back out again looking for a bed and breakfast.”
“This is not negotiable, John. You leave tonight.” Logan wasn’t talking quietly now, and he looked at the four young men as he spoke the last words.
“Fine by me,” Jim muttered, and then he repeated, “I hate nuns.”
“No they don’t.” Oliver’s voice cut through the entrance hall, and Logan looked at him with surprise. The figure in the doorway looked as if he’d just gone on a three week survival hunt. His clothes were torn and filthy, and his brown curls hung listlessly and greasy on his forehead. Oliver’s skin was pale, and deep blue circles lined his eyes; he reminded Logan of one of the ghost children, but the difference was that Oliver Jardin was still very much alive.
“Everyone into the kitchen. I have something to tell you.” He pointed with an authoritarian gesture towards the West Wing, his eyes blazing. The young men complied in shocked silence, and even Logan followed along, though he wondered why he was listening to the mad-eyed man. The scent of sour sweat, and what Logan suspected could be vomit, permeated from Oliver’s every pore, and he had to do his best not to gag. There was something else he could smell too… a more disturbing scent. Oliver smelled like death. “Where were you, man?” Logan eyed the dirt on his torn clothes. The man’s whole appearance was unsettling and Logan felt a nagging in his stomach. “Freya was worried sick.”
“I have an important announcement.”
“Are you okay?”
Oliver gave him an agitated glare. “Just go into the kitchen.”
Logan sighed, but he followed Oliver’s lead, partially out of curiosity and partially because the shorter man sounded so convincing.
They stumbled into the kitchen, the guys wide-eyed at the sight of all the equipment, and Florifera’s crew looked up from their screens in surprise.
“Ollie?” Freya took a step towards him. “What happened to you? You look a right mess.”
“I have something to say.” Oliver swayed from side to side.
“Say it, mate.” It was John who spoke, and though Logan couldn’t see his friend’s face, he heard the irritation in his tone. “I would like to know what’s going on here.”
“Tonight is an important night. Angel Manor has informed me that you will all be its guests for the equinox.”
“Ollie, you’re sounding a little mental.” Freya ran her fingers through her dark hair, her nose wrinkled and her eyes round. “The house informed you?”
Oliver turned to her. “Yes, Freya… the house. Aren’t you the one who is going on about hauntings?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.” Freya sounded exasperated.
Logan took a step towards Freya, ready to protect her from anything he possibly could. There was sadness in her eyes, and he wanted to be her hero, but he didn’t quite know how.
“Oh, there’s no denying that ghosts are real, Freya. No denying it at all.” Oliver shook his head slowly, a too-wide grin plastered on his face. “And the ghosts here are important. They keep the world in balance. You have no idea what we are a part of… absolutely no idea. It’s so magnificent. You are all so fortunate that you can be a part of it too.”
He pointed from the Chancers, who were standing together in a corner, to Florifera’s crew, who were sitting behind their computers.
“Tonight the house will have fresh souls. It’s been longing for them for several generations, but the children of the bloodline have been too careful, too prepared.” He turned to Freya again and pointed at her. “Until you came, Freya. You broke that spell. You brought new blood into the house, and it woke up. It’s hungry. The house is so very hungry. You can feel it too, can’t you? As can you, Logan…”
“Dude is off his fucking tits,” Terrence whispered, and someone else giggled in response. Oliver didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were still on Freya. Logan had to admit there was a point to what the crazy man was saying. He could sense the hunger too, and it seemed to be growing.
“Listen, Oliver. How about you sit down, mate?” Logan lifted his hands. “I’m going to let John and Jim and the guys collect their stuff, and get them out of here. Then we’ll talk about this, okay?”
“They’re not going anywhere. The house has other plans for them.”
“Okay, that’s really nice, mate. But I don’t really think there’s anything you can do to stop them from leaving.”
“I can’t stop them, no. But Angel Manor can. Can’t you feel it? The magic? It’s almost time…”
“Okay, fuck this. Come on guys. We’re going to get your stuff.” Logan put his hand on Freya’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Are you going to be okay?” She looked at him with those big grey eyes and nodded. His stomach flipped. “Good. I’ll be right back, okay?”
He jerked his head towards the door, a sign for John, Jim and the rest to follow him. Oliver remained where he stood, and for a moment, Logan was afraid that he would try to block his exit. He really didn’t want to fight him, not because he was afraid, but because Oliver was obviously unstable.
“Step aside, mate. Let’s not do this.”
“It won’t matter. The house won’t let you leave.”
“Step aside.” Logan’s voice was low and menacing, and Oliver stepped out of the doorway. Relief flooded through Logan’s mind, but he remained wary of the wild-eyed man. He stayed near the door, allowing the young men to go through first, followed by the two counsellors. Oliver never moved. Logan stared straight ahead, his nerves on edge. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit if Oliver turned out to have a knife hidden somewhere. As he walked by, he felt Oliver’s eyes burn in the back of his neck, but there was no attack.
“What the fuck?” Terrence’s cry tore him from his thoughts of Oliver, and Logan looked up perturbed. They had walked through the door, but instead of the large entrance hall, they were in a room that looked vaguely familiar to Logan.
“Where did the main hall go?” Everyone froze, and Logan made his way around the young men to inspect the room.
“Where are we?”
Logan stepped further into the room. His hand rose to his mouth. Nothing in his mind could make sense out of what he was seeing.
“This is impossible,” he muttered.
“What the hell is going on?” John stood next to him. Logan was at a loss for words, and he turned back to the door to the East Wing only to see that it was gone.
“How did we get here?” Terrence stepped further into the room, but Logan’s hand shot out to hold him back.
“We’re in the attic.” Logan’s breath was heavy and his words were soft.
“That’s not possible.” Terrence shook his head and pushed Logan’s hand away.
It wasn’t possible, and yet… there they were. Logan took several deep breaths and tried to control his chaotic thoughts.
“Okay, I don’t know what’s happening, but we need to get out of here.”
“It’s too late. The house won’t let you go. It has waited for this moment.” The voices were sad and soft, yet they rang clearly through the attic.
“Oh shit.” The boys huddled together, and they looked more lost than Logan had ever seen them.
“Are those ghosts?” It was Mason who spoke, his body shaking. “I can’t deal with ghosts.” He pointed at the darkness, and when Logan followed his finger, he saw the children.
Chapter 28
“All the screens just went black.” Pierre looked over his shoulder, and Freya leaned forward to see what he was talking about.
“We’re not having a power failure,” she said, looking at the lights in the kitchen. “Everything else seems to be working.”
Pierre pushed the button on his screen, but it remained black.
“Can’t get mine to work either.” Darren sighed and stood up, inspecting the cables. “Nothing’s unplugged.”
“The sun has gone down. The witching hour is upon us.” Marie-Claire’s voice carried despite its soft tones.
“Midnight is near
ing.” Oliver’s tense words sounded from the entrance. “Soon the Angels will be free.”
“You keep saying that.” Freya couldn’t keep the irritability from her voice. “Would you mind explaining what you mean by it, though? Because, frankly, you’re starting to get on my nerves.”
“Why do you think I let you bring these mediums into our house, Freya? I wanted more people here for when the equinox started. The more the merrier.” His laughter was high and hysterical.
“Jesus, Ollie. You’re starting to sound like a cartoon villain. Stop it. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Though she was looking at what was technically her best friend in the whole world, Freya barely recognised him. Even his body language was different, and she didn’t know what to do.
“EVP is still working, we just have no visual.” Ruben’s voice broke the tension, and Freya turned to look at him. She noticed that no one else was paying attention to Oliver; they were too busy trying to get their equipment to work. Only Marie-Claire Florifera stared blindly in Oliver’s direction, though Freya wasn’t sure if she was paying attention to him or if it was just coincidence.
Oliver just stood in the door opening, swaying on his legs, and every so often he would look outside or to the ceiling and a dark smile would cloud his face.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing. Just waiting.” Oliver looked at his watch. “Two and a half hours until midnight. That’s when the festivities begin.” He chuckled again, his eyebrows raised so far they disappeared under the matted brown curls.
“Oliver, please piss off now. I can’t deal with you. This is too mental. Go to your room and stay there or something.”
“Don’t worry, Frey, the house has acknowledged us as its guardians. It needs us, you know? Did your aunt tell you that? She didn’t, did she? She hasn’t told you shit, that old bitch.”
“I’m going to put you to bed. I’ve had enough of your shit.” She gathered her courage, not wanting to admit that this new Oliver was frightening her, and grabbed him by the shoulders. For a moment, he looked as if he were going to pull loose, or perhaps even hit her, but he just stared at her from under his curls with those mad round eyes, and Freya wanted nothing more than to kick him out of the house. But she couldn’t. He was bound to this place the same way she was, and no matter how much he freaked her out, she would do nothing to harm him.
Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) Page 26
