Once Haunted, Twice Shy (The Peyton Clark Series Book 2)

by H. P. Mallory

  When Ryan closed the door, I couldn’t stop my eyes from traveling the length of him, pausing for a few seconds on his tight butt and broad chest. Now that I had experienced a sample of his bedroom sports, I couldn’t turn that part of me off. Nor did I want to! I shouldn’t have been surprised though—sex with Ryan absolutely and unquestionably blew my mind. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed it so much. It certainly never happened with my ex-husband, Jonathon, whose nickname should have been, “Wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.” Ryan did anything but wham or bam.

  I finished the last sip of my Starbucks coffee, which Ryan had brought to me about twenty minutes earlier. I plopped the cardboard cup into a nearby trash bin that was sitting in the hallway, owing to the yet unfinished construction going on at my house. “Hi, guys,” I greeted Lovie and Christopher, after Ryan said his hellos.

  Lovie hugged me, kissing both of my cheeks in turn, like we were in Paris. Then she pulled away from me, but held my hands in hers as she smiled and asked, “How are you feelin’, Peyton?”

  “Lots better than last night,” I answered with a sigh. “I slept half the day today.”

  “That’s real good,” she said with a nod. “Your body needed it. An’ I’d insist ya take more time ta recuperate if we weren’t in such a rush.”

  I agreed with a nod. “Yeah, we can’t afford any more delays.”

  Lovie bobbed her head as she dropped my hands and turned to face Ryan and me. “There’s one last step we must take in order ta open ya up ta communicatin’ with the dead,” she started.

  “I thought my block was already removed?” I asked, shaking my head in curiosity. I glanced down at my bare feet and realized I really should have been wearing shoes, considering all the bent nails and other debris that lurked in the corners of the house. I almost appeared sloppy in white sweatpants and a fitted, heather-gray thermal shirt. I didn’t exactly look the part of good hostess.

  “The block is removed, but you haven’t enabled that part of yourself yet, in order to take advantage of it,” Christopher explained with an arched eyebrow and a lot of exaggeration. “You still haven’t tapped into the flow of spiritual unity that now drifts through you.”

  I was at a complete loss as to what he was talking about—the flow of spiritual unity? I did, however, figure that whatever I needed to tap into was probably very important. “What do I need to do?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and sighing. It seemed to me that nothing came easy in the spiritual world.

  “This part won’t be too difficult,” Lovie answered with an encouraging smile. “You simply hafta open yerself up ta the connection ya share with Drake through meditation.”

  Drake! I felt my stomach drop as I realized I completely forgot to remove the ban I’d placed on him while Ryan and I had been intimately engaged!

  “Drake, I permit you to experience what I experience,” I said to myself, scrunching my eyes shut tightly, which often allowed me to reach out to him faster than usual.

  “Humph!” came his irritated reply, giving me the distinct feeling his muscular arms were crossed over his chest while he glared at me. “You could have prepared me in advance before leaving me in the dark for half of the day! La souffrance!”

  “Sorry,” I muttered as I opened my eyes. I looked at Lovie and then at Christopher, who was now standing beside her.

  “Why are they back?” Drake demanded, his tone sounding suddenly concerned. Apparently, he disliked all of this mumbo jumbo stuff as much as I did.

  “Lovie just informed me that there are some more steps required before I can tap into your spiritual ability. So they’re both here to assist me with those steps,” I responded.

  “Mon Dieu! Is this task never ending!?”

  “Yeah, you’re telling me!”

  “Peyton?” Lovie asked, facing me with an amused smile while awaiting my response.

  “Uh, yeah? What?” I replied, since I had no clue what she’d just said.

  She laughed, shaking her head, but I sensed no irritation in her composed appearance. It seemed to me that, generally speaking, it was very difficult to ruffle Lovie’s feathers. I mean, if her feathers weren’t regularly ruffled by Christopher, I could only assume they simply never got ruffled. “I imagine you were talkin’ with Drake just now?” she asked.

  I nodded guiltily. “Yes, sorry.”

  She laughed again with bell-like cadence before replacing it with a much more serious expression. “We need ta find a place in yer house that’s very quiet an’ where you’ll be comfortable.”

  “The only place that’s finished in the house is one of the guest bedrooms, the one I’m currently sleeping in,” I answered. “And, yes, I’m very comfortable there.”

  “That’ll do jist fine,” Lovie responded. Then she turned to Christopher and Ryan. “You two keep yerselves preoccupied while I see ’bout connectin’ Peyton ta the spirit world.” Then she faced Christopher. “You good?”

  Christopher frowned down at her. “I shall manage,” he replied testily.

  I made the mistake of looking at Ryan, who responded with an expression that told me how much he was looking forward to hanging out with Christopher for who knew how long. I smiled apologetically and shrugged at the same time. Then, realizing Lovie was waiting for me to lead the way, I started for my bedroom.

  “How long will this take?” I asked, opening my door and immediately blushing as soon as I saw the unmade bed linens. I smoothed the duvet back down on the bed, and fluffed the pillows from where they lay drooping against the headboard. I could only hope my lovemaking with Ryan wasn’t too telltale.

  “How long it takes depends entirely on how good ya are at meditatin’,” Lovie answered. She had a knowing smile on her face after watching my hasty ministrations over the bed linens.

  “Well, I’ve never done it before,” I started. “Er, that is, meditated.”

  She nodded with another secretive smile and motioned for me to take a seat on the bed. When I did, she placed her brightly colored, paisley-print bag on the bed beside me and began rummaging through it, humming a tune I didn’t recognize. She pulled out a vial that was about the height and width of my middle finger, then folded her fabric purse over onto itself while pulling the cork from the bottle.

  “What’s that stuff?” I asked.

  “Creole water,” Lovie answered as she dipped her little finger into the brownish-looking stuff. “It’s a traditional spiritual water that’s used ta contact N’awlins spirits specifically.”

  “We’re only contacting New Orleans spirits?” I asked, instantly realizing what a silly question it was because we were in New Orleans. Naturally, the spirits we would encounter would be local.

  She nodded. “For the time bein’. You need answers an’ Christopher an’ I have a good idea on where you’ll find them.”

  “Where?” I asked immediately.

  She glanced over the vial of Creole water and smiled at me. “We’ll git ta that part in a bit, Miss Peyton. Fer now, I need yer focus.”

  “Okay,” I answered as she approached me. Using her pinky finger, she drew a line wet with Creole water down the center of my face, then down both of my cheeks. “What’s in that stuff?” I asked, trying to trace the slightly floral, citrus smell.

  “Orrisroot, French brandy, oil o’ orange blossom, oil o’ geranium, an’ coumarin,” she answered, closing her eyes. “Now close yer eyes an’ remain quiet fer a spell.”

  I obeyed her instructions and listened to the soft sounds of her chanting and humming. The smell of the Creole water filled my nostrils and I could honestly say I liked the aroma. It was earthy and floral and sweet, all at the same time.

  “Are ya sittin’ comfortably?” Lovie asked.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Good. Now I want ya ta focus on yer breathin’. Find yer navel an’ focus on that spot in yer mind.
Notice how yer abdomen rises an’ falls as you breathe in an’ out. Imagine a coin sittin’ on the spot jist above yer navel, risin’ an’ fallin’ with yer breath.” She was quiet for a few seconds as I focused on my navel and my breathing. I could feel my head clearing, and the sounds of my breath coming in and going out were soothing; it was almost like listening to waves.

  “Now I want you ta imagine a place in yer mind where spirits rule. There’re only thoughts in this place, no bodies, no tangible things, jist thoughts, jist bein’. Time doesn’t exist there, jist air. Now deepen yer breathin’ an’ really let yer abdomen expand an’ contract with each breath you take.”

  I did as she instructed, but it made me feel light-headed. Then I focused on the magical, spiritual realm and my dizziness immediately faded.

  “Now imagine there’s a door standin’ right in front o’ you. The door is closed an’ it’s separatin’ you from this ethereal, weightless place where you want ta go,” Lovie continued. “Do ya have it in yer mind? Do you see the door, Peyton?”

  “Yes,” I answered in a soft voice.

  “Good. I want you ta imagine unlockin’ that door with a key. When you put the key into the door an’ turn yer hand, pull the door toward you.” I could see the door unlocking clearly in my mind. “When you look beyond the door, ya see nothin’ but the stars, just the galaxy. That is the spiritual world, Peyton. Now I want you ta open that door as far wide as it’ll open.” She was quiet for a second or two. “Is the door wide open?”

  “Yes, it is,” I answered.

  “Now imagine that door fallin’ apart, little by little, the wood begins ta splinter an’ the door starts fallin’ off the hinges. When it hits the floor, it melts away inta nothin’, an’ all that’s in front o’ you, an’ all that’s below you, behind you, an’ above you, is space.”

  I imagined exactly what she described and felt my breath catch as the sensation of complete weightlessness overtook me. I was flying, no, floating, in a void where time and gravity meant nothing to me.

  “Now focus on yer breathin’ again, Peyton,” Lovie continued. “Focus on the up an’ down o’ yer abdomen as you come back ta this plane. Focus on the coin as it rises an’ falls with yer breathin’. Are you with me, babygirl?”

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Now open yer eyes,” she finished.

  When I opened my eyes, Lovie was standing before me. Beside her stood what I first mistook for a medium-sized dog. Upon further inspection, though, it definitely was no dog. It sat on its haunches, but was probably about two feet tall. It looked similar to a human except for its enormous, round eyes, which made it look like a tarsier. Its limbs were surprisingly human-like, though much longer and thinner than the average person’s. It possessed five fingers on each hand and five toes on each foot. Its fingers didn’t look like a human’s though. They were more like long, thin spindles with balls on the ends of them. Its skin was an orangey brown and it had such large ears, I imagined it must also have very good hearing.

  “Putain! Bloody hell!” Drake roared out. “Quelle est cette créature? What is that creature? Stay away from it, ma minette!”

  “Um,” I started as I backed away, not exactly sure what the thing was, or whether I should be afraid of it. “There’s something really weird standing next to you, Lovie,” I said in a warning tone.

  Lovie just laughed away my concern and waved a dismissive hand in my direction. “That’s jist Samuel, my familiar,” she answered. She glanced at either side of her, but never looked directly at it, making it evident that she couldn’t actually see the thing.

  I studied the bizarre creature again and found it staring unblinkingly back at me. I took a deep breath and sighed. “So, I guess this means the block is completely gone now, right? I mean, since I can see your familiar?”

  Lovie nodded. “It would appear that way.” Then she closed her eyes and extended her hands, looking like a blind person searching for a light switch. “I can’t feel Samuel,” she announced after a few seconds of groping for him. “Can you ask ’im why he hasn’t been connectin’ with me?”

  I glanced down at the little creature, and although it didn’t move to open its mouth to speak, I got the distinct impression that it was being silenced against its will in some way. “Um, I think it’s—”

  “Samuel,” Lovie corrected me.

  “I think Samuel’s trying to tell me that there’s some sort of block on him. He’s not able to talk to me, but I get the distinct feeling from him that he’s being silenced involuntarily. He’s been trying to tell you, but the magic between the two of you has also been affected,” I finished and frowned. “At least, I think that’s what he’s trying to say.”

  Lovie nodded. “Thank you,” she said, chewing her lower lip. “I have a feelin’ this block has everythin’ ta do with whatever’s goin’ down in this city.” Then she took a big breath as she faced me again. “Now that ya have this gift, Peyton, ta see an’ interact with the spiritual world, ya also need ta understand how ta turn a blind eye.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” I asked, watching as Lovie started for the door. Samuel momentarily vanished, only to reappear on her shoulder. It didn’t seem as though his weight affected her in any way so I figured he probably didn’t weigh much, if anything at all.

  “You’ll be able ta see things you never could before,” Lovie continued as I followed her out of my bedroom and down the hall. “There will also be times when you might want ta shut the spiritual world out.”

  “And how would I do that?” I asked, suddenly anxious about the topic.

  “The same way you shut Drake out,” she answered. “ You simply think the words.”

  “Okay,” I nodded as we emerged into the foyer and found Ryan and Christopher exactly where we’d left them. Neither one said a word.

  “How did it go?” Ryan asked after a short pause, studying me with caring eyes.

  “Good,” I answered. “I can now see Lovie’s familiar!” With a fleeting glance at Christopher, I noticed there weren’t any strange creatures looming around him. Apparently, his lack of popularity extended into the astral plane as well.

  Lovie turned to face me. “The next step is fer you ta gather up as much information as possible regardin’ what’s goin’ on in the city,” she started. “You need ta talk ta the spirits, Peyton, an’ find out what they hafta say. We need ta know what Tuesday will bring.”

  “Okay,” I said as I nodded. “And where do I go to do that?”

  Lovie seemed to have expected that question next. “Christopher an’ I were discussin’ it, an’ we decided yer best chances ta uncover info-mation would be at either the LaLaurie Mansion or . . .”

  “The Sultan’s Palace,” Christopher finished for her.

  “Of course,” Ryan interrupted, rolling his eyes. “The two most infamous haunted houses in N’awlins.”

  Not knowing what to make of his comment, I decided to ignore it. Lovie and Christopher followed suit and neither replied.

  “Okay,” I started. “Why those two places?”

  Lovie cleared her throat and her expression was pensive, as though she was deeply pondering something. Then she sighed. “Usually, the places that possess the most spiritual energy are where the spirits have reasons ta remain.”

  “Oui, that is so,” Drake said, and I had the distinct impression that he was nodding.

  “Meanin’?” Ryan asked, alternating his gaze between Lovie and Christopher.

  “In general, there are four types of haunts,” Christopher announced. “The first we refer to as residual energy. These types of specters simply repeat actions, sounds, words, and emotions that occurred back when they were alive. Many relive the scenes of their deaths.”

  “I refer to these types of spirits as inutile, useless,” Drake announced. I didn’t respond.

  “The second type of haunting is
one in which the spirit is trapped or stuck on our plane.”

  “Is that what type of spirit you are, Drake?” I asked.

  “Non,” he answered immediately. “I was given the option to move on, ma minette, but I have chosen to remain here.”

  I didn’t have the opportunity to ask him why because Christopher was busily continuing his explanation. “Spirits who are stuck on this plane oftentimes died suddenly and, usually, violently. The third type of haunt is one where the spirit willingly remains on this plane, either to protect someone or because it’s attached to something or someone.”

  “That’s you!” I announced to Drake.

  “Oui, mon chaton,” he responded with a chuckle. “That is me.”

  “Did you stay here to protect someone?” I continued.

  “Oui, ma minette, I remained to protect you.”

  “But, that’s impossible because we only met recently and you’ve been dead for a while.”

  “Perhaps it would appear that way, ma minette, but spirits are privy to information that humans are not. I knew I would be needed here and, therefore, I stayed.”

  “But—”

  “That is all you need to know, ma minette,” Drake announced resolutely. “I cannot explain the whys and the hows to you. Some things you must just accept at face value.”

  Call me nosy but I wasn’t very good at accepting things at face value. Before I had the opportunity to argue with Drake, Christopher cut me off again.

  “The fourth type of spirit can travel between this plane and the spiritual plane. These spirits can be both good and evil. The good ones usually offer advice, or protection, and often send us messages. We refer to these haunts as spirit guides.”

  “And the evil ones?” I asked, shelving the questions I had for Drake for the moment.

  “The evil ones travel to this plane to harm us. We refer to these spirits as demons,” Christopher responded without flinching.