To Free a Phantom (Spirit Chasers Book 3)

by Carrie Pulkinen

  They said goodbye to Allison and Logan and headed back to her apartment. Gage seemed lost in thought on the drive. She couldn’t blame him; her own thoughts raced through her head so fast, she could hardly grab onto one. She needed time to process everything she’d learned from Allison, but the silence in the car was deafening.

  She turned to Gage. “You seemed excited about the baby news.”

  His eyes crinkled with his smile. “I love kids. Hope to have a few of my own someday.”

  Another flush of warmth spread through her chest. “Me too.”

  Keeping his gaze on the road, he reached across the console and slipped his hand into hers. She rested her other hand on top of his. Then he looked at her, and her heart lodged in her throat. As Lindsay would have said, they had a moment. Words weren’t necessary to convey the emotions that passed between them. He’d said it all with his eyes. Hopefully she’d be able to give him the family he wanted some day.

  Returning his gaze to the road ahead, he held tight to her hand. “What time are rehearsals today?”

  “Noon to two. The kids wanted their Friday night free.”

  His brow furrowed. “That doesn’t give me much time to research.”

  “We can talk to her after rehearsal.”

  “I don’t want you in there without me. Can you hold rehearsal outside? Maybe at the park next door?”

  “It’s not ideal, but I guess it will work. A change of scenery might be nice.”

  He pulled into the parking lot and stopped by the curb. “Okay. I’ll do some research, see if I can find out anything about the woman the spirit used to be. I’ll meet you at the theater at two, and we’ll go in together.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She reached for the door handle.

  He tightened his grip on her hand. “Promise you won’t go in alone.”

  “I promise.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gage made his way to his favorite spot in the back of the research room and dropped a stack of books on the table. Situated in the corner where two massive windows met, the location normally provided a well-lit work space in the dim library, but thick clouds hung in the ominous sky, casting the room in shadow.

  He’d scoured through his demonology books at home, which reinforced his absolution that the entity they were dealing with used to be human. That fact didn’t console him. Sometimes human spirits could be as nasty as demons.

  While he didn’t know exactly how Allison used her psychic ability to detach spirit energy from objects, she had mentioned something about being a conduit and energy passing through her body before it’s released. No way in hell was he letting her attempt a trick like that with this ghost. She may have been strong enough to handle it, but who knew how it would affect the baby?

  A smile tugged at his lips. Erica had never said anything about wanting children until today. Her mention of wanting a family in the car this morning solidified his resolve to make her his forever. As soon as they took care of this ghost issue, he’d tell her so. Right now, he had work to do.

  After two hours of research, he came up with a plan to use the PILFER machine to create what he thought would be the right frequency to free the spirit from the mirror. Unfortunately, he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t hurt. Once the spirit energy was detached, hopefully Erica could figure out how to create the portal to cross the ghost over.

  If he could convince her Colette was actually the problem. Based on everything she’d told him, there was no way the old actress had Erica’s best interest in mind.

  He logged on to the library’s account for access to the New York Times database. If Colette DeVeau really was a famous actress, there’d be records of her somewhere, especially if an understudy murdered her in a theater.

  It didn’t take long to find her, and the more he read about Erica’s so-called mentor, the more his stomach churned with nausea. Colette had indeed been murdered, but her history had been far more sordid than she’d let on. Poor Mrs. Spencer hadn’t known what she was dealing with when she got that mirror. He wouldn’t let Erica meet the same fate.

  He returned the reference books to the shelf and packed up his computer. As he exited the library, the bottom seemed to drop out of the clouds, sending sheets of rain pummeling to the ground. He darted to his Jeep and headed straight to the theater, saying a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening that Erica sent the students home and was waiting for him in the parking lot. Or even better…at her apartment.

  Rain sloshed against his windshield as he pulled up to the theater. Erica’s car sat alone and empty under the downpour. She’d gone inside without him.

  “Goddammit.” He shouldn’t have let her come anywhere near this place until he’d researched the ghost. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.

  He bounded through the parking lot, shaking the water out of his hair as he passed through the door. “Erica?”

  Pushing open the lobby door, he found her standing in the middle of the stage, a single spotlight shining on her like she was the star of her own private show. She’d wound a red scarf around her neck, and she absently picked at the frayed end, ignoring his entry. As the door thudded shut behind him, she blinked, lifting her gaze. Her eyes were vacant, distant.

  He stepped to the light board and turned on the house lights, shutting the spotlight off as the auditorium brightened. Still, she didn’t look at him.

  “Erica, we need to get out of here. I did some research, and Colette isn’t who she says she is.” He started down the aisle toward her.

  She sucked in a breath and looked at him. “She wasn’t supposed to tell you. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”

  “Who? Erica, what are you talking about?”

  “I could have made this theater thrive. I could have found another protégé. One that would actually take me back to Broadway.” She curled her hands into fists and made her way down the steps as her hungry, angry gaze devoured him. “You’re not going to send me away. She’s mine now.”

  Oh, shit. She was channeling. As she stepped into the aisle, he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Erica, I know you’re in there. You have to fight her. Don’t let her control you.”

  She blinked, the anger in her eyes fading to confusion. “Gage?”

  “Erica.”

  She yanked from his grasp, whirling toward the seats, dropping into one as she sighed dramatically. “Oh, Gage.” Her laugh started out small, but the chuckle morphed into a maniacal cackle as her eyes rolled around in her head. “She really thinks you’re in love with her.”

  He had to do something. The spirit was obviously insane and way more powerful than he’d thought. Erica needed to be grounded. She needed to hold on to something tethered strongly to this plane. She needed to hold on to him. He sank into the chair next to her. “I do love her.”

  She scoffed. “Men aren’t capable of love.”

  “We are, Colette. I am.” He took her hand in his, her cold skin sending a chill down his spine. “Look in my eyes. Can’t you see the love there? I’m in love with Erica.”

  Her lips parted on a gasp. She blinked, furrowing her brow in an Erica-like expression. She was fighting the ghost, his touch giving her strength. Her eyes softened for a brief moment before she yanked her hand from his grasp. “She’s mine now. It’s time for you to go.”

  She moved like lightning, twisting the scarf around his neck and pulling it tight. He clawed at the fabric, scrambling to relieve the pressure on his windpipe. He couldn’t breathe. When had she taken the damn thing off?

  He wiggled from his seat, flopping to the floor and pulling Erica and the ghost inside her down with him. Her grip loosened enough for him to wedge his fingers beneath the cloth as he gasped for air.

  She stood, dragging him backward, but she tripped and tumbled into the seats. He yanked the scarf from his neck and shot to his feet as she charged toward him, screaming. Stooping, he caught her around the waist and threw her onto h
is shoulder. With her hands beating into his back, a string of curses flew from her lips.

  He had to get her out of the theater. The ghost could only stretch so far from the mirror before she’d be ripped from Erica’s body. She yelled, her arms and legs flailing as he bounded up the aisle to the exit.

  “She’ll be back,” the ghost used Erica’s voice to scream. “She belongs to me; you can’t keep her away.”

  He shoved open the door and trudged into the torrential downpour. As he crossed the parking lot, she let out a gurgled moan and went limp in his arms. He lowered her into the passenger seat and buckled the seatbelt around her before racing around to the driver’s side.

  Her head lolled to the side, her skin cold and pale. Her normally pink lips had turned an icy shade of blue, and her breathing grew so shallow he had to rest a hand on her chest to feel the miniscule rising and falling motion.

  He dialed Allison’s number and peeled out of the parking lot. “She was channeling. I got her away, but she’s unconscious.” He tried to suck in a deep breath, but he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. “She needs help.”

  Allison’s words came out calm and steady. “Don’t panic. Where are you now?”

  “On the road. I’m taking her to the hospital.” He made a sharp left and floored it through the intersection before the yellow light turned red.

  “Is she breathing?”

  He put his hand on her chest, feeling it rise and fall steadily, more deeply than before. “Yes.”

  “Don’t take her to the hospital. As long as you’re getting her away from the ghost she was channeling, she’ll be okay.”

  He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “She’s unconscious. She needs medical attention.”

  “What are you going to tell them? She was possessed by a ghost? Take her to your house, and I’ll meet you there. She needs energy healing, not medical attention.”

  Hot tears brimmed in his eyes. “Thanks, Allison. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  He tossed the phone in the cup holder and squeezed Erica’s thigh. “I’m going to take care of you, baby. Just hold on.”

  Parking the car, he scooped her limp body into his arms and carried her into his house. He laid her in his bed and peeled off her wet clothes. Goose bumps pricked on her bare skin, so he got an extra blanket from the closet and covered her, tucking the fabric in around her body.

  He changed into dry clothes, tossing his and Erica’s wet garments into the bathtub. He’d deal with them later. He’d helped Allison through plenty of bad channeling experiences when they’d investigated together, and the one thing she’d always needed was physical contact. His grounding energy could always bring her back to herself. It had to work with Erica.

  He slid under the covers, snuggling next to her and draping his arm across her body. The coolness of her skin felt far too corpse-like. He pulled his shirt off, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his chest against her side. Hopefully the skin-to-skin contact would be enough to bring her back. Twenty minutes later, a pale pink color returned to her lips, but still she didn’t move.

  A knock sounded on the door, followed by the sound of it opening and closing. “Gage?” Allison called.

  “In the bedroom.”

  He sat up and pulled his shirt on as she and Logan padded into the room, and he carefully slid out of the blankets, keeping Erica covered. Sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed, he kept a hand on her shoulder. Her skin had warmed to a normal temperature, but he couldn’t bring himself to break contact.

  “What happened?” Logan asked.

  “She went into the theater without me. She was already channeling when I got there.” He gave them a condensed version of what happened. “I researched the spirit. Strangling is her M.O.”

  Logan shook his head. “That would explain your neck.”

  Gage glanced in the mirror. A deep purple bruise stretched across his trachea to curve upward toward his ears.

  Allison leaned in to examine it. “I know you’re worried about Erica, but are you okay?”

  He fisted the blanket in his hand. “I’m fine. Just…please. Can you take care of her?”

  She hovered her hands above Erica’s head and smiled. “You didn’t need my help, Gage.” She nodded toward his hand on her shoulder. “How many times have you helped me through stuff like this? You know how to take care of her.”

  He shook his head. “It’s different this time.”

  “It’s only different because you’re in love with her. You did everything right.” She moved her hands to Erica’s chest. “I’ll do a full Reiki treatment on her, but you are the one who saved her.”

  He swallowed the thickness in his throat. “She’s going to recover?”

  “She already has. She’ll need to sleep it off, but she’ll be fine.”

  Relief washed through his body as he exhaled a shaky breath. “Thank you.” He would never forgive himself for this. He knew how dangerous ghosts could be, and he never should have let her get near the theater. No production was worth risking their lives for, no matter how much Erica loved her students.

  Allison finished her Reiki treatment and motioned for him to follow her out of the bedroom. She pulled the door shut and padded into the living room. “The most important thing when a medium is channeling a hostile spirit is grounding. Having that skin-to-skin contact with a grounded person keeps the psychic tethered to the Earthly realm. No matter how you decide to handle this ghost, hold on to Erica. She needs you.”

  She reached into her purse and pulled out an oval-shaped crystal the size of an ostrich egg. “Crystals aren’t necessary for creating portals, but they help. The one I gave her was small. This one will amplify her power more.” She handed it to Gage. “She has the ability to cross the spirit over; I felt it when I read her. She just has to believe in herself.”

  Allison and Logan left, and Gage set the crystal on the table and returned to Erica’s side. Slipping off his shirt, he snuggled next to her, giving her as much skin-to-skin contact as he could without disturbing her rest. Warmth returned to her body, her cheeks turning a rosy-pink shade, and her breathing grew deep and rhythmic. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the pillow next to her and tried to sleep. His mind wouldn’t quiet. He held her for another hour, taking comfort in the steady rise and fall of her chest, but following an attack like that, she’d probably sleep until morning. Slipping out of bed, he put his shirt on and tip-toed out of the room, pulling the door shut.

  He spent the afternoon preparing for what would hopefully be their final battle with the spirit actress. A combination of paranormal investigation equipment, a battery pack, and a set of jumper cables should do the trick for detaching the ghost from the mirror. All the positive ions his device would emit into the air would intensify Erica’s portal enough to suck the spirit energy into it, whether it wanted to cross over or not.

  He wired the equipment, using cables long enough to move the living person operating it at least ten feet away from the mirror before he activated the device. Who knew what kind of effect the massive amount of energy he’d be harnessing would have on them? The ghost would probably feel like it was being torn in half, but there was nothing he could do about that.

  Too bad he couldn’t test the device on an actual spirit. It would’ve been nice to know if this would really work before they went to battle. He clamped the cables onto a metal folding chair in his guest-bedroom-turned-office and ran the wires into the hallway. He turned the knob on the device, ramping up the energy to let it charge. The static in the atmosphere built, thickening the air until his skin tingled and every hair on his body stood on end. As soon as the green light flickered on, he flipped a switch, sending a pulse of electricity from the machine, through the cables, and into the chair.

  A throb of energy radiated outward from the chair, slamming into his chest. Blue bolts of electricity crackled across the metal surface, and red sparks showered d
own from the jumper cable clamps, glowing on the beige carpet.

  “Shit.” He stomped on the embers, extinguishing them before they could light the carpet on fire, but black burn marks dotted the rug in a circle around the chair. “Guess I won’t be getting my deposit back.” He disconnected the device and packed it into a duffel bag. As soon as Erica woke up, he’d tell her his plans.

  Erica’s head pounded as she struggled to stay asleep. Foggy memories and distant thoughts tumbled through her mind, fleeting in and out of her consciousness, teasing her brain with horrid images.

  Soft cotton sheets draping across her body shielded her from the chill in the air, and the man snuggled next to her, breathing softly in her ear, gave her a sense of security. Of home.

  She fluttered her lids open and gazed at the culprit responsible for the cool breeze on her forehead. The ceiling fan whirred above. She stared at the blades, latching onto one and following it in its incessant twirling motion. Around and around. Much like the thoughts spinning through her head, if she focused on one blade for too long, her stomach lurched.

  She rolled onto her side and snuggled into the security of Gage’s arms. He pulled her to his chest, placing a tender kiss on the top of her head, before starting awake.

  With his hands on her face, he looked her hard in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so.” Was she though? The last clear memory in her mind was of sending her students home as the rain began in the park. She’d dashed to the theater parking lot, and…then what?

  Gage ran his fingers along her temple, brushing the hair away from her face. “Do you remember what happened yesterday?”

  “Yesterday?” She sat up, and the blankets fell away. A hard chunk of dread solidified in her stomach. “Why am I naked?”

  “Your clothes were wet. I washed them.” He slid out of bed and retrieved a stack of laundry from the top of his dresser. He padded toward her, wearing nothing but a pair of blue flannel pajama pants, and she ached to have him crawl back into bed with her and hold her against his chest. To make the sickening feeling clawing its way through her entire body go away. To make whatever happened yesterday…and it couldn’t have been good…be a dream that never really happened.