“Poppy, are you okay?” asked Brett gently, still caressing the backs of my arms, as if that would somehow keep me from overreacting.
“I don’t know what I am,” I admitted. “I’m confused.”
“Understandable,” he said. “Tell me everything that is going through your mind.”
I thought about the front door and how it had not only slammed shut, but the key had been ejected from the lock. Then my mind raced with how I’d been sure for a split second that I heard my grandfather’s voice in the front parlor earlier. “No way.”
Brett stared at me and nodded. “Way.”
“Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod.”
He cupped my face. “Shh, honey. You’re freaking out. That isn’t what I wanted to have happen. I just have a funny feeling we’re not alone and that the third wheel just so happens to be Tucker Proctor. He was big into me not putting the cart before the horse with you. And if anyone was going to hang around after death to keep someone safe, it would be Tuck for you. Poppy, he and your father never saw eye to eye. They spent almost all of your father’s life at odds over things that it’s not my place to tell you. But you came along and you were like a daughter to your grandparents. I think you know that.”
I did.
“Brett, I spent my life feeling like Grandma and Grandpa wanted to tell me something big but that they couldn’t. And Dad has always been really weird about talking about Grimm Cove. I remember he and my mom arguing about me coming to spend summers here. He didn’t want me anywhere near the town. She told him that regardless what he thought of this place—they were my grandparents, and since her parents died before I was born, they were all the family I had. Denying me them would have been wrong.”
Brett’s lips drew up. “Honey, had your father tried to keep Tuck from you, I’m pretty sure your grandfather would have taken his son to task. Hell, I know he would have. You were the apple of his eye, Poppy. And the bond you had with him and your grandmother is something that doesn’t just go away because they passed on. It lives, at the very least, inside you. And if I’m right, inside this house too.”
There was no way that my grandfather’s spirit was in the house. Ghosts weren’t real.
That being said, I found myself pressed firmly against Brett, nervous that he might be right.
“Brett, when I got here today, we couldn’t find the key. We kept finding weird symbols under all of the pots on the porch. Symbols that didn’t used to be there. Then when we finally did find it, and opened the door, it was slammed shut in our faces. The key popped out of the lock like someone had shoved it out from the other side,” I confessed, knowing it sounded insane. “Then in the front parlor, when Jeffrey was bleeding, I thought I heard Grandpa’s voice. He didn’t want the blood to touch the stuff painted under the rug.”
I waited, expecting Brett to tell me he’d only been joking and that I was now letting my imagination run wild with me. When he didn’t, I fought hard to avoid freaking out more.
“Show me the symbols on the porch,” he said, taking my hand in his.
Nodding, I let him lead me from the kitchen, through the hall, toward the front door. My wet backside was less than comfortable but I ignored it, following closely behind Brett.
He stepped outside first, and I noticed right away that the welcome mat was back in front of the door.
I motioned to it, released his hand and bent, lifting it to show him what we’d found.
Only, there was nothing to show.
There was nothing but old porch boards under the mat. There was no sign of the word “leave” that had been painted there.
“W-what? I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “Someone had painted the word ‘leave’ here with dark red paint. I’m not making this up. Ask Dana. She saw it too.”
He bent near me and touched the porch floor. “I believe you.”
“Why? I wouldn’t if I was listening to someone else say what I’m saying.”
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I even believed myself at the moment. Had I seen that there before? It wasn’t as if the last several days hadn’t been full of me thinking I saw something that wasn’t there. Case in point, Marla and the same group of young men.
Maybe I really did need to spend some time at a spa or just sleep for days or something.
Brett pushed my hair back, still bent next to me. “Show me the symbols.”
“I’m not even sure they’ll be there,” I said softly, but stood and went to one of the pots I recalled having a symbol under it. The symbol was still there.
Brett was to me in a heartbeat, drawing me back from it as if it might be contagious or something. “Poppy, can you go in and get Jeffrey for me, please?”
“What’s wrong? These are just pranks from teenagers, right? We all used to do some crazy stuff. Like the cemetery. This is like that.”
Desperate for him to tell me it was nothing, I didn’t budge.
He pulled me to him, put his forehead to mine, and closed his eyes a second. The moment was incredibly intimate and a wealth of emotions spread through my midriff. “I don’t want to lie to you. But telling you the truth won’t work. I don’t think you’re ready to hear it just yet.”
I found myself pressing my lips to his, unable to resist the man. The kiss was chaste yet full of feelings. I kept my lips on his as I spoke. “Try me.”
He sighed and then kissed my forehead. “This isn’t some prank from teens or anything. This is serious and it’s bad. Very bad.”
“L-like the symbols under the area rug?” I asked.
“Yes. Like that. And, Poppy, I think the message under the rug might have been an attempt to scare you away to keep you safe,” he said.
I tensed. “You’re saying you think something was trying to protect me?”
“Not something,” he said. “Someone. A person who loved you so very much and would do anything to keep you safe—even transcend death. Not to mention, someone who would still want me to do right by you and not just make out with you.”
My jaw fell open at the implication. He thought my grandfather was somehow doing all of this from the great beyond. As much as I wanted to shout that he was crazy, I couldn’t find the words. They didn’t feel right. What he was telling me did—in a bizarre way. It fit. I just didn’t like the fact it did.
I stared around, noticing that the sun had started to set. The porch felt even creepier as the sun faded. “G-grandpa?”
I’m not sure what I expected to happen, but I found quickly I was let down because there was no response.
Brett stood and put his hand out for me, helping me up too. He kissed the back of my hand. “Poppy, I need you to believe me on this. There are things about this town—about everyone in it—that aren’t what anyone would call normal. While that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, sometimes, it can be downright deadly.”
I pushed at one of the potted plants with my foot. “And you think the symbols are deadly?”
“I know they are,” he said.
“How do you know that?” I asked, needing to hear his answer.
“Because unlike you, I wasn’t kept in the dark about what is real in this world. I was taught from birth about it all. And I know for a fact these markings aren’t something good. They’re to attract evil, and to help it pull and redirect power.”
I didn’t panic, which was saying something because panicking sounded like a great idea.
“If we take a few counter-steps, it will help for now,” said Marcy from the open doorway.
I hadn’t heard her there and gasped, going right at Brett as if a demon had jumped out and wanted to eat me like Dana had suggested might happen.
He wrapped an arm around me, his focus on Marcy. “How much do you know about this stuff?”
Marcy glanced at me. “A lot. She does too, but she doesn’t understand what she was taught was real. Not just superstitions and the rambles of an eccentric Southern woman.”
I clutched Brett’s hand. “You’
re saying what Grandma spent summers teaching me wasn’t just all talk? It was what? Real magik?”
She nodded. “You can scoff and try to deny as much, but I think on some level you’ve always known the truth, Poppy. And I think that no matter what happened in the past between you and Brett, you trust him more than anyone—even me and even Dana. You know he wouldn’t lie to you about this. He’s right. What’s here is dangerous, but it’s not alone. It’s been fighting against a force of good. A powerful one.”
“Grandpa?” I asked.
She nodded. “He knows you’re supposed to be here but he’s afraid for you. For good reason. He’s worried that you won’t believe, and it will cost you everything—including your life.”
“Does this need to be addressed right away?” asked Brett, motioning to the pots of flowers. “Or do we have a bit of time?”
“We have a little time. Besides, Poppy has to fully believe for the counterspells to work,” she said. “She wants to. I can feel it on her. So can you. But she’s not quite there yet.”
“I know,” said Brett. “But I can’t walk away tonight worrying something might happen. How about the three of you come stay at my place until we get this place cleansed fully. And I don’t mean a good scrubbing for dirt and grime. I mean a spiritual cleaning.”
“Oddly, I totally followed what you meant. And thank you for the offer, but we’re good,” I said, my gaze going to Marcy. “I have clean bowls in the kitchen. There is rock salt in large quantities in the green room. Let’s fill bowls with salt and warm water and set them in all the rooms in the house. I’m sure there are sage bundles in the green room as well. I know Grandma used to keep a fair amount of black tourmaline on hand.”
“Yes. She has a lot in the green room,” said Marcy. “There are bells in there too.”
I thought back to all the things Grandma used to tell me about negative energy and cleansings. “Ah, ringing them to help break up any bad energy that might be trapped here.”
“Yes.” She nodded, looking pleased. “She has a lot of palo santo in there too. I’m not sure we can go overboard. The bad energy in this place is thick.”
I took a deep breath and continued. “But it’s our home now, and it’s not allowed to have the house. This place meant the world to my grandparents and to me. I’m not letting bad energy screw it up. I’m not running away. I’ll throat punch the hell out of negative energy and if that doesn’t work, I’ll have Dana do it. One of her mean glares should work.”
“You’d be shocked at what Dana is capable of,” said Marcy. “Come to think of it, so would Dana.”
“I have a lot of selenite in the inventory I packed. People seem to love buying it, so I keep a lot on hand.”
Marcy’s lips twitched as he nodded. “I have it all set up for us already. I’ll get mixing the salt and water in the bowls. We’ll need to dump them out tomorrow morning but not on the property.”
“I know a good spot,” said Brett. “It’s far out in the woods. It will work.”
Marcy turned and headed off in the direction of the green room.
I looked at my hand in Brett’s. “That was a very strange conversation. Yet it wasn’t. Make sense?”
“Yep.”
I stared up at him. “There is more you want to tell me, isn’t there?”
“Yes, but this was a really big first step. How about we save the rest for later?”
I nodded and bit at my lower lip. “I’m second-guessing your offer to have us stay at your house. I don’t want my friends hurt here.”
“You’re always welcome at my place, but I think you and Marcy have this well in hand,” he said. “But if you’re worried about the cleansing working or not, I can stay here tonight. I’m not offering because I want to do you—which I do—but don’t think that’s my angle. I just want you safe. Just let me know what you decide.”
I hugged him. “Thank you.”
“Now. I should warn you. If you stay in that white wet skirt, I’m going to end up bending you over and…”
I laughed hard as I hurried from the front porch, into the house and toward the stairs. “I’ll change!”
“Damn, should have kept my mouth shut!” he yelled behind me, making me laugh more.
I froze at the base of the stairs.
Brett was suddenly there behind me. “Are you scared to go up alone?”
“It’s getting dark out. I was creeped out here when it was full daylight,” I admitted. “Now that it’s dark, and with everything we discussed, I’m kind of freaked.”
“I’ll come with you, Poppy-seed. And I’ll behave myself. Promise.”
Fourteen
Poppy
I finished smudging the front parlor area with white sage as Marcy entered carrying a burning piece of palo santo. It was overkill but, honestly, didn’t feel as if it was enough.
My stomach was in a knot and I was all kinds of jumpy just thinking about what Brett had told me on the front porch. Was it right? Was there negative energy in the home? Something evil, even?
More importantly, was the spirit of my grandfather lingering, trying to counter all the bad?
If so, did that mean he wasn’t with my grandmother, wherever she might be in the afterlife, because he was too busy trying to protect the house and me? I didn’t want that. I wanted him with my grandmother. They belonged together. They’d had the kind of love that lasted a lifetime. When he’d passed, Grandma had never once considered moving on.
When I’d suggest she consider dating once more, she’d politely inform me that she was—and the man was Grandpa. I didn’t question it then but I was questioning everything right now.
Had she been telling the truth?
When she was still alive, could she see his spirit?
That gave me a warm sense of peace and I hoped that had been the case. That she’d been able to still see and hear her true love.
Marcy came to a stop alongside me, holding the small piece of wood of the saints over a tiny ceramic bowl that had protective runes on the sides of it. The room now smelled like it had spent the night in a woodland whorehouse. The scent of the white sage was thick and the woodsy aroma of the burning palo santo wrapped around it, creating a heady mix.
While it did burn my nose slightly, I was fine with that. Especially considering the alternative.
Wind blew in from the open window, causing a decent amount of smoke from the sage bundle to go directly into my face. I coughed.
Marcy smiled. “Let the demon out.”
I groaned.
She winked. “I wish we could have gotten all the windows open. So many are painted shut.”
From my time spent with Grandma, I knew the best way to cleanse a home of negative energy was to be sure all the windows and doors were open to let the bad energy escape. Back then, I’d helped her do monthly cleansings while I was visiting because I thought it was something that she’d invented to give us more bonding time together.
Unfortunately, that hadn’t been possible for Marcy and me. She was right. A number of the windows were painted shut. Some were simply stuck from years of non-use. And others opened a small amount; such was the case with one of the windows in the front parlor.
Looking back, I had to wonder how much of what my grandmother had taught me was her trying to prepare me for what might come later in life.
I set the abalone shell and the smoldering sage bundle on the coffee table before I stepped back, taking a deep breath free from the smoke. The sheets that had been covering everything in the room upon our arrival were all piled in the corner…and for a second I could have sworn they moved.
That was ridiculous.
I was letting all the talk of ghosts and bad energy get to me.
Marcy, still next to me, was looking in the direction of the sheets as well.
I tensed. Had she seen them move too?
When she didn’t comment or show any signs of being overly concerned, I did my best to push away the worry and fear.
“Marcy, everything okay?”
“Yes,” she returned.
“Think this will do the trick for the negative energy?” I asked.
“It will help, yes,” she answered.
That didn’t sound like a for sure on it doing the trick. I’d have pushed for more details of her views on it all, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear them. It was already incredibly overwhelming. I felt as if I’d been plunked down in the middle of a scary movie. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t think my day would involve my high school sweetheart, a possible haunting by my deceased grandfather, and evil energy.
Yet here I was in the thick of it all.
“My dad and mom spent the whole of my life telling me my grandmother was sweet but grossly misguided and out of touch with reality.” I bit at my lower lip. “Did they not know the truth about her too?”
Marcy offered a look that said I knew better than to ask.
I tensed. “They knew.”
“Yes. I can’t see how they wouldn’t. At the very least, your father knew. They were his parents. He couldn’t possibly have grown up here and not known the truth,” said Marcy.
She was right. But then again, I’d spent summers here and never noticed.
As I thought more about it, it hit me how certain members of Brett’s friend group had acted like they knew something I didn’t. Something big. Was this it?
“Brett talked about Grimm Cove like the entire town had more to it than I thought,” I said.
Marcy smiled wide. “Because it does. I’m so happy that we’re here. It’s nice to be home.”
“Home?” I asked. “You’re from Massachusetts, aren’t you? I could have sworn you told me you grew up there and then got scholarships to Yale.”
“Yes. I technically grew up in Massachusetts. I lived there for a while when I was little, before being put into foster care, but I didn’t start there,” she said as the stick of palo santo burned out slowly. “I started here in South Carolina. In Grimm Cove, to be specific. At least according to my birth certificate. It’s why I was so excited when I learned you spent your summers here. And why I’d pick your brain for details.”
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