Ophelia extended her hand. “Deal.”
Denny shook her hand. “You can talk to Rush after I talk to my mother.”
Ophelia rose and pushed her shoulders back. “You will need to sign a waiver.”
“A waiver?”
She nodded. “You need to sign a form releasin’ me from any responsibility should anythin’...adverse happen to either you or your mother.”
“Adverse?”
Ophelia nodded. “There are things worse than death.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the state your mother is in.”
***
A short demon played pool in a bar, sinking the eight ball and grinning as he swiped the money from the table for the fourth time. “Too damn easy, partner.”
“Double or nothing?”
The demon tried not to grin. “Dude, I kicked your ass. I’d rather play someone more challenging.”
The cowboy stared as the demon paid for his third beer. “You fucking kidding me? I don’t see anyone else’s money on the table, pal. Double or nothing.”
The demon chalked his cue stick and stared at the man.
Ego kept humans from asking for help. Ego prevented them from seeing the truth of a situation. And this guy would be needing some truth very soon.
“Look, dude, I don’t get off on kickin’ a guy’s ass who is clearly a beginner, so come back when you’ve had a bit more practice.”
The man pushed his out chest and looked to see who was watching.
The demon blew on his cue stick. Time slowly melted.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You did not just call me a beginner, asshole.”
The demon smiled a tobacco-stained smile. “I’m sorry. I just assumed by the zero balls you sunk that you were a novice. Does that word go down easier?”
The man slammed his beer bottle down on the bar, the foam bubbling over the top.
“Look here, you son of a bitch––” He took two steps toward the demon, who flipped his cue stick up and swung it like a baseball bat, the fat end cracking the man in the forehead. He dropped like a stone, his forehead split open and blood cascading down his face.
The ensuing fight caused thousands of dollars of damage, sent six men to the hospital, and resulted in the arrest of a dozen others.
All-in-all, a good night’s work for the demon.
***
“You want me to what?” Rush paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, her outline almost completely visible. “I don’t even know what to say to you.”
“It’s like an interview. Just answer her ques––”
“I’m not some sideshow freak you can use as a bargaining chip, baby, and I resent the fact that you would even agree to such a deal without at least consulting me first.”
Denny bowed her head. She’d known all along that Rush wouldn’t be happy with her agreement with Ophelia, but she’d had to take the deal while it was fresh. “I know I should have spoken with you first, Rush, but she caught me off-guard.” For some mysterious, and as yet unspoken reason, Rush disdained all things supernatural, paranormal, or psychic.
Disdained.
She wouldn’t talk about it, either. She believed it was best to leave well enough alone.
“Yes, you should have––especially since I agree with Sister Buzz Kill about you getting all tangled up with Quick.”
Rush sat on the coffee table, her knees touching Denny’s if they had been real, of course. “Baby, I’ve been watching you in this house since you were eight years old. For thirteen years. More than half of those I watched your brother goad, cajole, and tease you into doing things you ought not to have done. Need I remind you of the failed umbrella jump from the roof? Or what about car surfing? Or––”
“He’s just––”
“Let me finish. You ate an entire mud pie when you were eight. You burned that scar on your knee with a magnifying glass in the sun when you were nine. At ten, you gave yourself a Mohawk. At eleven, you burned your ass trying to light a fart on fire.”
“Rush––”
“I’m not done. At twelve, you got stuck climbing the tallest tree in the neighborhood. When you were thirteen, you glued horns to your forehead with Super Glue and had to have a doctor cut them off. This, my love, is just a partial list, a very incomplete list of the myriad stupid stunts your brother glamoured you into performing.”
“Glamoured?”
“Sister Tight-Ass may make me nuts, but she was dead on about your brother’s flaws. His charm is endless, so yeah, you fell for it then and you’re falling for it now...only now you’re dragging other people into your insanity and it’s not fair.”
Denny studied Rush as she crossed her arms defiantly. “You’re right. It isn’t fair. It’s also not fair that my parents were killed, my brother is in jail, and the most important person in my life is a ghost. But life goes on, plodding through unfair muck, attempting to slow us down. Well, I’m not going to slow down.”
Denny rose. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first. I’m sorry people like Ophelia frighten you. I’ll call her and tell her you won’t do it.” Denny grabbed her car keys off the hook.
“Where are you going?”
Turning around, Denny inhaled deeply. “To find another ghost. If you won’t talk to her, I know someone else who will.”
***
The haunted inn was a local hotspot that served wonderfully intricate southern dishes. Denny had gone to high school with the sous chef, who let her hang around the kitchen before work. Today, Denny didn’t want the kitchen. She merely needed a––
“You take one more step, Golden Silver, and I swear to god, I will tear Sarah’s ghostly hair right out of her head and spit down her neck.”
Rush.
“Maybe it’s not important to you, Rush, but my family could very well be in danger and right now, I need a ghost who will be willing to talk to Ophelia.”
“And you think Sarah will? Why? Because she talked to you a couple of times? Because she’s a hussy who can’t get over being dead?”
Denny shook her head. She hated it when Rush was jealous. It made her tempestuous and cranky. “It’s worth a shot. I need to come up with a ghost to talk to Ophelia, and if you won’t do it––”
“I’ll talk to Ophelia. That crazy ass woman has been wanting to talk to me for years, and if Rushalyn Holbrook won’t do it for you, then I sure as hell would love to.”
Rush and Denny whipped their heads around to find Sarah sitting in the back of the Prius.
“Holy shit, Sarah,” Denny said, grabbing her chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Sarah barely regarded Rush. “Oh. Well then. Boo.”
“You go on back to rattling chains, Sarah.” Rush waved her hand away. “We don’t need you.”
Sarah leaned forward. “Apparently, you do, Rushalyn...or should I say, your lover does.”
“Don’t piss me off,” Rush growled. “You don’t want to fuck with me or mine.”
“Your potty mouth never ceases to amaze me, Rushalyn. It’s hard to believe you ever grew up in the south the way you talk.”
“My mouth amazes Denny on a nightly basis, Sarah. Something your nasty ass pussy will never experience.”
Denny held her hands up. “Come on you guys. Enough already.”
“Come home, Denny. I’ll speak with Ophelia for you.” Sarah’s voice fairly purred. “What can I help you with, Golden?” Like warm honey. “Ophelia wants to talk to someone with a much sweeter disposition than this crab apple.”
“I’m warning you, hag breath. If you don’t get the fuck out of this car––”
Denny looked at Rush, who was scowling at Sarah. “Rush––”
“Sarah,” Rush began with forced sweetness. “I’m Denny’s ghost. Me. If you think for one second––”
“Obviously you failed her or she wouldn’t be here. So why don’t you skedaddle on back to your tiny abode and let us get back to whatever it is
that Golden needs.”
Rush started for the back seat. “Why, you thundercunt! I oughtta––”
“Rush, please. Calm down.” Denny pleaded. “You’re not helping.”
“What? She called our home a dive. A hovel. A dump. Don’t just sit there while she denigrates our house...my home. Do something!”
“Rush, please listen to me. You made your position clear, and I am trying to respect that, so please go home. If Sarah is willing to talk to Ophelia, then good for us. This is a win-win.”
Rush crossed her arms defiantly and glowered at Sarah. “There’s no winning as long as this bitch is in the picture.”
“Don’t be like that, Rush. Please. Go home. If Sarah is willing to talk to Ophelia, then let her.”
“Fine. But this isn’t over. This isn’t over by a long shot.” Rush leaned between the seats. “My lover, Sarah Parkhurst. And unless you want to spend eternity looking over your fat pork shoulders, you better remember your southern manners.”
Rush faded away, leaving Sarah grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “She’s a handful, that one,” Sarah said. “I don’t know how you do it. Nobody likes her. She’s––”
“My girlfriend, Sarah. That’s who she is, so please show some respect.”
Sarah piped down. “I’m sorry. You just have no idea how much she brags about having a living as her lover. We are all sick of hearing it.”
“Well, she does.”
“Pfft. Enough about her. What can I do for you, Golden? You want me to talk to Ophelia? That is an odd request even for you. What about?”
“Well, you obviously know she’s a medium, a psychic as it––”
“Oh, I know who she is. We know all of those with her kind of power. She’s been trying to talk to one of us for years, but no one has been willing.”
“Why not? You all seem more than eager to talk to me.”
“That’s because you’re neither one of us nor one of them. There is...something different about you, Golden Silver––something very special. You’re not like everyone else. I’m surprised Rush hasn’t spent more time trying to figure you out.”
“Figure me out?” Denny thought about that psychic residue.
She nodded, her curly hair bouncing as she did. “Certainly. You possess something unique to the world––an energy I cannot name nor know anything about.”
Denny stared at her. Unlike Rush, Sarah never changed her clothes. Her language was a little more modern than most ghosts her age but that was probably due to being around so many people in the inn.
“So, what is it you need from me that your lover won’t provide?”
“I just need you to answer some questions. That’s all. I need about thirty minutes of your time.”
Sarah waved her hand in the air. “Time is not an issue for me, Golden. I have all the time in the world.”
Denny nodded, “Excellent. Then I can send Ophelia here to speak with you?”
“On one condition. Right now, you tell me how it is you are in love with a ghost and what you do to have all that crazy sex Rush brags about.”
Denny hoped she would never have all the time in the world.
***
Ophelia and Denny stepped into Gwen’s room. It smelled of old people, antiseptic, and death. Denny hated the smell of the facility. No, she hated the facility, period.
Kneeling in front of her mom’s wheelchair, Denny smiled. “Hi, Mom. You look nice today. Princess has your hair all fixed up. Nice.” She waved her hand toward Ophelia. “This is Ophelia.” She turned to Princess. “Thank you. That’s good for now, Prin. I’ll let you know when we leave.”
“You sure? I no like leebing you mudder.”
“She’ll be fine. Thank you.”
After Princess left, Ophelia held one of Gwen’s hands and one of Denny’s. “Now, my dears, you need to be very clear ’bout how many ways this can go wrong––because it can. Once a mind is set free from the physical self in which it lives, it can wander...get lost even. And that ain’t the worst of it. Are you sho’ this is the path you wanna take?”
“It is.”
“Then let me get out my metronome and we’ll get started.” Ophelia pulled out a scarred wooden stand with a single hand ticking back and forth. “I want you both to look at the metronome but listen to my voice. Listen to my words, feel your chest go in and out, and allow yourself to relax. Relax.”
Ten minutes later, Denny was in a light blue space with a chest-level mist hovering above the ground. She was familiar with the spiritual plane she visited with Rush, and this wasn’t any different with its subdued lighting and lack of visual elements. It was just blue with a mist. Nothing fancy.
“Denny?”
Hearing her mother’s voice made Denny’s knees weak. She hadn’t heard that mellifluous sound in over six years. Squinting through the mist, Denny waited.
Suddenly, the mist parted, and there stood her mother wearing her hospital pajamas and the Uggs the girls had given her for Christmas.
Blinking back tears, Denny swallowed hard. “Mom?” Denny rushed to her mother and crushed her to her body, trying hard not to cry.
Gwen pulled away. “Oh Denny, what have you done? What have you done?”
“Aren’t you...aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Of course I am. Oh honey, I have missed you so much, but this? You shouldn’t have come.”
Denny held her mother’s hands. “I miss you so much. So very much. I had to come.”
Gwen sighed. She looked healthy and vibrant, like she had the day before the accident. She stood tall and proud, her short hair brushed and well manicured––a far cry from the gray, fragile woman sitting in the wheelchair.
“Honey, you should know that I’ve heard every single word you’ve said to me these last six years, but you shouldn’t be here. This...this is very dangerous.”
Denny frowned. She thought her mother would be happier to see her.
“Oh sweetheart, of course I’m thrilled to talk to you, but I know how dangerous this is. I know the risks involved. Why are you here?”
Denny cocked her head. “Mom, what could you possibly know about the supernatural? You never gave any indication you knew anything about it at all. Any time I tried talking to you about ghosts and stuff, you always changed the subject. You seemed so uninterested.”
Gwen took Denny’s hands. “Oh honey, there’s so much you don’t know about your mother or your family. So much I tried to keep from you, to protect you from”
“Too late for that, Mom.”
Gwen nodded. Her eyes softened and sad. “Apparently. What’s happened, Golden?”
Denny told her about the visit to Quick and that he wanted Denny to talk to her.
Gwen’s eyes never left Denny’s face, and when Denny finished, Gwen said softly, “Quick understood. I never thought he did, but it is clear now that that’s not true.”
“He said he’s innocent. He is, isn’t he?”
Gwen chose her words carefully. “Honey, I wish I knew, but I don’t. It’s not like that here. My heart tells me he could never do such a thing.”
“And your head?”
“My head knows what it knows. It’s not important right now.”
Denny sighed and reluctantly asked the next question. “Quick hinted that Pure could be in danger. Are we all in danger? ”
Two chairs appeared, and they sat down opposite each other. The slight mist hovered a foot above the ground.
“You could be. Quick would never have told you to try this unless he was more than concerned.”
“About what? What is this all about?”
Gwen looked down at her hands. When her eyes reconnected with Denny’s, she inhaled a slow, deep breath. “The supernatural has always been drawn to you, my sweet daughter. You have something within you that I had hoped would stay away, but you’re being called by the very world your girlfriend exists in.”
“You...my...”
“I told you, I have heard
every word these past six years. Of course I know Rush is a ghost. Did you think you and Pure were the only ones to see her?” She leaned in closer. “Now listen to me. There’s not much time, and this isn’t going to be easy to hear, but trust me, Golden...it’s the truth. Every word of it.” Gwen looked away and then back again. “Things are...attracted to the paranormal energy you exude and you emit this energy because...” Gwen hesitated a moment.
“Because? Just tell me, Mom. What is it about me that enables ghosts to talk to me and weird shit to happen? Because trust me...weird shit is happening.”
Gwen cocked her head. “What weird shit?”
Denny told her about throwing Pat Patterson twenty feet and the strange voice that came upon her. She told her every strange feeling she’d been having lately.
“I see.” Gwen sighed. “As much as I didn’t want this, and still don’t, it is good you came—but what I have to tell you isn’t going to be easy to hear. It is going to change everything you thought you knew and challenge the very fabric of your reality.”
“Jesus. Then spit it out. I can take it, Mom. I’m a big girl now.”
“I see that, love. I really do, but there are forces at work here that can and will change your life forever.”
Denny’s breath caught. “Then I suppose I better know what’s going on.”
Brushing a stray hair from Denny’s face, Gwen sighed. “I used to wonder how this was going to sound when I finally spoke the words, but you can never truly be ready to share a truth like this, so here it is. You attract supernatural energy to you because...well...because like attracts like.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning you are a supernatural being. I was hoping it wasn’t true, but it is.”
Denny stared at her. “A what?”
Gwen squeezed Denny’s hands. “Don’t freak out when I tell you, but... you aren’t just a supernatural being. You have inherited an ability that’s been in our family a thousand years.”
“What ability?”
“There’s no easy way to say this, honey, so here it is. You come from a long line of demon hunters.”
Denny stared at her. Seconds ticked by. “I’m sorry. Did you say demon hunters?”
Gwen looked into Denny’s eyes, letting the news sink in.
Darkness Descends (The Silver Legacy Book 1) Page 7
