by Darcy Coates
“Don’t be.” Mara wiped the wetness off her cheeks. “I’m a billion times more sorry than you could ever hope to be, so don’t even try to compete. I was horrible to you.”
“I went behind your back. I broke your trust. You had every right to be angry.”
“Yeah, but you were right.” Her lungs still ached, but the dizziness had faded, and her energy was coming back. Neil didn’t seem to want to let her go, though, and Mara was more than happy to stay pressed close to him. “Oh my gosh; I was such an idiot.”
Neil tilted his head to see her expression. He looked cautious. Mara cursed herself for making him feel the need to be wary around her.
“Yes, don’t worry; I’m not being stupid anymore. I called the mediums back. They’re up in the attic right now.”
Neil’s face darkened as he glanced away. “They shouldn’t have left you down here alone.”
Mara followed his gaze towards the sawn rope still hanging from the bannister. She shuddered then ran her fingers over Neil’s cheek to bring his attention back to herself. “Hey, don’t be angry with them. I went to get some stupid herb they needed. It wasn’t like they threw me to the house or anything.”
“Regardless.” Neil’s arms tightened around her. “I almost lost you. Jeeze, Mara. If I hadn’t come back—”
He kissed her. It was a painfully sweet expression of so many emotions: fear, desire, remorse, relief, love. It sent thrills racing down Mara’s back. She wrapped her arms around him and tugged him closer despite her growing dizziness.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling back. “You need to breathe. Here—”
“I’m fine,” Mara objected as Neil pushed her into a sitting position. She rubbed at her aching eyes, relieved that the tears had stopped. “Thanks, by the way. For coming back. Saving me. Not being a jerk about it. All of that.”
Neil chuckled. He shifted so that he could sit next to her with his arm at her back to keep her steady. “Are we okay?”
“I want us to be okay.”
“Me too.”
Mara leaned her head against his shoulder and rejoiced in his warmth and solidness. She knew they couldn’t stay there for long. The footsteps in the attic had ceased, which meant the ghost must have completed its fated march. Any moment, Damian and Erica would be coming downstairs to see why she hadn’t returned with the sage.
“Neil? Why’d you come back?”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’re not the only one in this relationship who can be obnoxiously stubborn, you know.”
“Me, stubborn? Perish the thought.” She sought out his hand and squeezed it. “Truthfully, though. Why?”
“It was a couple of reasons. Partly because I hated the things I’d said to you. I didn’t mean them, and they’re not true.”
“About me being delusional and crazy? I think they were at least somewhat true at the time.”
Another kiss. “No, they weren’t. And that was the other reason I came back. I’d been incredibly angry. And I mean much, much angrier than I should have been even for an argument. I dunno—this probably sounds weird—but it was almost like the house was manipulating me.”
“No, it’s not weird at all.” Mara thought of all of the spontaneous, violent murders that had occurred within Blackwood’s walls—husband against wife, wife against husband—and was deeply grateful that Neil had had enough restraint to walk out of the room. Mara remembered beating her fists against his chest, desperate to hurt him, and wondered what she might have been capable of if she’d had access to a knife. The idea wasn’t pleasant. She pushed it out of her mind.
“But the main reason was I didn’t want us to end like that. Especially not with you still inside Blackwood. I was going to come back and see if I could convince you to let me stay the night. If not, I figured I could wait in my car at the head of the driveway in case you needed a getaway vehicle.”
“Seriously? I said some brutal stuff—none of which I stand behind, by the way. How could you come back after that? Are you sure you weren’t just planning to collect your laptop and leave again?”
Neil laughed. “I do want that back, by the way.”
As she glanced up at his profile, Mara was amazed at the change in his expression. He still looked pale, but he’d lost the tightness about his lips, and his smile was genuine. He seemed far more relaxed than he had during the previous two days. I can’t believe I put him through that much stress.
Then she thought of someone else who had suffered from her poor decisions and felt her mouth turn dry. Be honest with him. He deserves it. “Can I tell you something personal?”
“Of course.”
She inhaled and held it for a beat. “I bumped into my parents today. I ran off before they could say anything.”
“Ah, Mara.” His arm tightened around her. “That’s why you came home early, huh? I’m sorry.”
“I’ve been horrible to them, Neil. And I’m starting to think they didn’t deserve it. I never told you, but I looked them up online a few months ago. I don’t even know why. I think I was hoping they’d been arrested or something. Well, they used to be prominent members in a bunch of spiritualism forums and on the council of a local association. But I discovered they’d resigned from all of them. I can’t find any trace of them communicating with other spiritualists since four months after I left home.”
“Do you think you prompted that?”
“I have no idea.” Mara’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “Maybe they grew some sense. Or maybe they thought I’d come back if they weren’t affiliated with those groups. Whatever the cause, it wasn’t enough to make me forgive them for believing what they did while I was growing up. But now…” Mara waved a hand towards the house then let it flop back into her lap. “Were they very wrong?”
Neil’s cheek was warm on her forehead. He was silent for a moment then said, “Does it negate what they did to you?”
Don’t cry. Mara swallowed the emotion as well as she could, but she was ashamed to feel it creep into her voice. “They weren’t bad parents. They did some stuff that hurt me. But not deliberately. Like the rabbit they killed—do you remember me telling you about that?”
Neil nodded.
“It was sick anyway. Dad asked for spiritual guidance and said he was told it was suffering. We couldn’t afford a vet, so he drowned it. I loved that rabbit. At the time, I felt like he was a murderer. But he wasn’t trying to be cruel. He never was.”
“They kept you from having friends.” Neil’s voice was gentle, but there was a hint of bite at the back of it. Does he actually resent my parents for that? The thought simultaneously warmed Mara and made the guilt swell. She dropped her head.
“That wasn’t their fault. They tried to organise play dates, but the other parents wouldn’t let their kids visit.” Don’t cry. Don’t you dare. “Mum threw me a birthday party once. She invited every kid in the suburb. Not a single one came. B-but she still t-tried to make it fun. J-just Mum, Dad, and me. We p-played all the games and—balloons everywhere—and—had cake—” Mara pressed her palms to her eyelids. The effort of holding her tears in was constricting her throat. “Y-you should have heard the way Mum cried when I left home. And I cut them off for four years b-because I was a narrow-minded, self-righteous, arrogant little—”
“Stop that.” Neil pulled her close. He cradled her against his chest and stroked her hair until she calmed. Once her breathing had steadied, he said, “Maybe they’re not monsters. They’re probably not blameless, either. Mistakes make us human; don’t torture yourself over a choice you made four years ago. If you think you were wrong, make a plan to change what you can. Action is good. Choices are good. But guilt on its own never fixed anyone’s problem.”
“You’re wasted as a carpenter,” Mara mumbled into his shirt. “You need to get yourself a motivational show like Oprah. Fix the world’s problems.”
The attic’s trapdoor slammed. Mara twitched, and Neil tightened his grip on her. “That’ll
be the mediums, right?”
“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She hoped they weren’t too red. “Where’d you find them, by the way?”
Neil got to his feet and carefully pulled her up with him. “I called my pastor, actually. He said he couldn’t help, but he suggested Spirited Encounters. Though I’m starting to suspect he just did an internet search for ‘mediums for hire.’ I got the feeling haunted houses aren’t something he has to deal with often… or at all.”
Two figures appeared at the top of the stairs. Mara was relieved to see that both Damian and Erica seemed calm. The sage couldn’t have been necessary after all. “Oh, hey, Neil!” Erica clattered down the stairs. “When’d you get here?”
“A few minutes ago.” The serious note had returned to his voice. “And I found my girl hanging from the stairs. Where were you both? She could have died.”
Erica shoved past him, oblivious to his disapproval. “Wait, back up. What happened?”
Mara felt herself turning red. “It looks like you were right—Robert Kant doesn’t want to be dispelled. He, uh, tried to hang me.”
Damian moved closer to Neil. He spoke too quietly for Mara to hear. Before she could join the conversation, Erica clasped her shoulders, eyes wide and voice breathless. “That’s so cool. Did he say anything? What did he look like?”
“Erica, have some tact,” Damian said before turning back to Neil.
“Sorry.” Erica didn’t sound like she meant it. “Did he give you any clues? The ghost in the attic was a bust.”
“He just said ‘surprise, sweetheart’ then told me to scream. Which I couldn’t.” Mara rubbed her neck, which she suspected would be bruised the following morning. “I didn’t see him. What do you mean about the attic ghost? I heard his footsteps. Didn’t he know anything?”
“I couldn’t even talk to him.” Erica deflated like a balloon. “I could hear the footsteps—even see the boards move and little puffs of dust come up—but I couldn’t see anyone. I asked questions, but he either didn’t hear or didn’t answer. We waited for ages after the footsteps stopped, but he didn’t come back. So, we’re back to square one.”
Mara glanced at the rope, which still hung from the bannister. What’re the chances that’s the same rope Robert hung himself with? Neil cut it easily, which means it’s probably old. I bet that would have amazing spiritual energy. She cringed. Crap, I’m even starting to think like them. Goodbye, self-respect. “Would the rope be any good?”
“Huh.” Erica approached the dangling cord, circled it, then brushed her finger over the noose section. She closed her eyes then pulled back with a shiver. “Yeah, this has a man’s energy all over it. I’m pretty sure it’s the right time period, too. Good work, Mara!”
Mara rubbed her neck again. “Thanks… I guess?” She turned back to Neil and Damian, but they were deep in discussion. Their faces were both stern, and Neil kept shooting looks at her. Damian had his arms crossed and was working his index finger over his thumbnail in what looked like an anxious habit. Mara wished she could hear what they were saying.
“You ready for some ghost busting?” Erica was turning in a circle as she surveyed the room. “It’s a good space for it, too. Nice and airy—” She broke off as Damian, finally finished talking to Neil, approached her and nudged her arm.
“A word?” he asked his partner.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: Dissent
Damian drew Erica away and began talking to her in tones that were a little too quiet to hear. Mara turned back to Neil, who had moved to stand next to her. He looked tense. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Erica thinks she can use the rope to summon… unsummon… extract… whatever she plans to do to Robert.”
Neil tugged on her hand to draw her away from the others so they could speak in privacy. “I was just talking to Damascus—”
“His real name’s Damian.”
Neil gave her a tight smile. “Trust you to get the truth out of them. Well, I was talking to Damian. He wants to call it off.”
From across the room, Erica half gasped, half yelled, “What? No!” Damian said something quickly, and Erica lowered her voice. They began a hushed but heated debate.
Mara turned back to Neil. “How come?”
“He thinks it’s too dangerous. He said he’s happy to work on passive spirits but the energy here is too high to risk playing with malevolent ones.”
“And Robert’s definitely malevolent.” Mara sucked on her teeth. She tried to repress the panicky sensation that was chewing up her stomach. I have everything invested in Blackwood. I can’t sell it, but I can’t live in it, either.
Neil’s hands brushed up the sides of her arms, and Mara relaxed into the touch. “I told him how important Blackwood is to you.” Neil’s voice was gentle and warm. Mara stepped closer to absorb more of it. The tangles in her stomach unravelled when he spoke like that. “He’s sympathetic, but he doesn’t think it’s worth the risk. He said maybe if you took a few years away from it and let the energy subside, it might be safe to try again.”
A few years! Mara pressed her eyes closed. No, don’t act like a mule. Be grateful for what you have. “I’ll need a place to stay. I dunno if your offer is still open, or…”
“You’re always welcome in my home.” Neil spoke gently. “I’ll talk to Mum. Maybe we can put the religious stuff into storage…”
“Thanks.” Mara had been creeping closer to him and was near enough to lean her forehead against his chest. His heart—a steady, even tempo—was soothing. He wrapped his arms around her back and rocked her gently.
“I’m sorry. I know how much this house meant to you.”
“I’m not dead,” she said, partly to remind herself. “I’ve got an amazing boyfriend who, against all odds, doesn’t hate me. I have a house to stay in even if it’s not my first choice.” She inhaled his scent and smiled. “And money’s just paper you exchange for stuff. I can get more of it.”
“I love you, Mara,” Neil whispered into her hair.
“Shut up!” Erica shrieked from across the room. Mara turned towards the commotion. Evidently, the mediums’ discussion hadn’t gone as smoothly as hers. “You are such a jerk, Dame. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance!”
Damian bent low to murmur something then drew back with a hiss as Erica stomped on his foot.
“Years? I’m not waiting years! Mara!”
Mara impulsively leaned away from the fuming woman. “…hi?”
Erica stormed forward, grabbed Mara’s wrist, and attempted to drag her away from Neil. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight. Ready to do this thing?”
“Slow down!” Neil attempted to pry Erica’s hand off Mara’s. “You’ll hurt her!”
“Erica.” Damian, coat whipping behind him, rushed in to block his companion’s path. “You can’t do this alone.”
“I’m not alone,” she spat. “I have my best friend, Mara, who, incidentally, is way cooler than you.”
“… best friend?” Mara blinked and shook her head. “Lady, I wouldn’t even call you an acquaintance.”
“Shut up, I’m trying to do you a solid here.” Erica glowered at Damian. “This is private property, and I’ve been hired to do a seance, so you can either stick around and help or buzz off.”
Damian’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t speak.
The grip on Mara’s wrist was hard enough to hurt. She tried to worm her hand free. “Calm down, Erica. If it’s dangerous—”
“Nothing important was ever achieved by playing safe,” Erica said. Mara opened her mouth to question that logic but found herself fixated by Erica’s gaze. The woman’s eyes were wide. “C’mon, I need Blackwood. Its energy is so high that I’m sure I’d have no trouble dispelling Kant.” She turned back to Damian. “You said I needed real-world practice. This is the best I’m going to get! And after the last place—I don’t want to be zero-for-two. Please.”
He sighed and dropped his head. When he spoke, the tone
was low and cautious. “Mara, how important is this building to you?”
“Uh…” Mara turned her eyes towards the ceiling. She felt such a complicated mix of emotions that she couldn’t easily untangle them. There was a sting of betrayal; the house she’d trusted—the house she’d loved—had turned against her. But there was also fondness. She’d repaired its walls. She’d scrubbed its floors. She’d fallen in love with the building, and saying goodbye would feel like ripping a vital part out of her chest.
Then she looked at Neil. His brow was creased, and his beautiful blue eyes anxious. She took a deep breath. “I really, really, really like the house. But I don’t want anything to do with it if it’s going to put the people I love in danger.”
She felt as though she could survive a year on a desert island with nothing except the smile Neil gave her.
“No, come on,” Erica whined. “You’re meant to be on my side!”
Damian looked relieved. “She’s the boss. Come on; let’s pack up.”
“Hang on.” To Mara’s surprise, Neil stepped forward, a hand held up. “Damian, how dangerous would an attempt be?”
Damian glanced at Mara before returning his gaze to Neil. “Mara’s the biggest wild card. If she becomes panicked, the burst of energy could push a malevolent spirit into doing some truly horrific things.”
“Could she leave the house?”
“Ironically, it would help to have her present. A gentle, sustained radiation of her energy would fuel Erica’s work.”
“Okay.” Neil crossed his arms and looked the room over. “If she stayed calm, could we try it?”
Damian let his breath out in a rush but didn’t answer.
“I’ll pay extra,” Neil added, but the other man shook his head.
“Don’t worry about the money. If she can stay calm—and if we take precautions—and if you understand there are no guarantees—”
Neil took Mara’s hand. “Do you think you could stay calm? If I was with you the whole time?”
“Yes.” Mara had never known safety like being close to Neil.
“Yes?” Erica, who had been following the exchange as though she were a starving woman and their words were food, edged closer to Damian. “Yes?”
