“The good, the bad or the in-between?” I asked. Misha smiled from across the table. When I called her earlier that afternoon, she was more than happy to meet with me. I was more than happy with her suggestion of an out-of-the-way coffee shop, nowhere near campus.
“All of it.”
“Well, the energy from Evan is the strongest. Or maybe, purest.”
“That makes sense. From what you’ve said, it’s coming from a genuine place of friendship and trust.”
“Right. We have uninterrupted time and, for a while, it was a safe place for us to be together. It wasn’t even intentional at first. I just realized it was happening one day when he touched me. I felt the warmest, most fulfilling sensation. Something I’d been missing since Charlotte attacked me. I discovered I could do it with other spirits. The random ghosts I encountered. Those I assist passing over or…”
“Those you seek out.”
“Yes. But that happens less now since there seems to be some kind of block with me connecting to them.”
“When did that block start?”
“Well, I didn’t notice it until a couple of weeks ago – when all this got a little crazy. The black stuff – the smoke – when I met with Eva really started when I got to Savannah.”
Misha nodded and placed her teacup on the table. “Savannah is an old city. You may have walked into a landmine of supernatural mojo with all these open doors.”
“Open doors?”
“You’re opening doors from one side to the other – with a sort of pit stop in the middle where you meet Evan. You can’t do that without repercussion. As we discussed before, the spirits, or their essence, cling to you. Then they come out on the other side. I’ve done some further research since we last met. If I’m not mistaken, these are literally tiny pieces of evil taking a ride from Evan’s side and attaching themselves to you to get here.”
“What do they want? I deal with displaced spirits every day and I help them and send them on their way. This is not the same thing.”
“No, it’s not. And these are displaced spirits. It’s evil. The parts of many spirits looking for a way back in. I think the fact that they’re feeding off of your abilities is dulling your gifts. This may be for specific reasons – they may need you in the dark, or it just may be their way to survive since this isn’t their world.”
“Are they on me now?” I squirmed in my seat and brushed around me.
“There’s lingering energy, yes. I can see them in your aura, but I don’t think they’re permanently attached to you. I don’t even think they want to kill you. I think they are possibly trying to organize into something larger.”
A feeling of dread settled in my belly. “That’s what Connor said.”
“Connor’s a smart young man.”
Of course he was. Freaking-always-right-Connor. “What do you mean something larger?”
“That’s what we’re tracking.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Me and others in the group. There are dark energies building here and no one is sure what or why.”
“And I’m bringing them through?”
“Yes. That seems to be clear.”
“Connor says I have to stop going to see Evan and taking the energy from the dead.”
She fixed me with a steely, perfect, blue eye. “Connor’s right.”
I had braced myself for this but tried to keep my hostility down. “That seems a little extreme.”
“But necessary,” she said. “You have to get your addiction under control. You may not want to hear this, but I think you’re the key to whatever is going on. The spirits are using you to enter our world, they’re blocking your gifts, and you are the one experiencing the confusing visions or dreams. There’s something bigger here and it may really be part of the overall situation. You have to stop taking from Evan and the other spirits so you can see clearly. Your job description seems to be that you help these ghosts pass over. You move them on. You’ve breached that relationship because you’ve started taking back. That’s not okay. It interferes with the balance.”
“Wait. I didn’t start this. Charlotte dragged me into this when she tried to body snatch me. She opened that door.”
“Maybe so, but you’ve kept it wide open. And you’ve got to stop.” Misha placed her hand on mine. Her nails were manicured and sharp. Gold bangles lined her arms. “The balance of our gifts is very important. We cannot exploit them. Ever. We are here to serve a greater good. To help those in need. We do not take.”
“I’ve never really thought of it that way.” But I had. I’d suggested something similar to Tony weeks ago.
“Well, that’s why I’m here. And the others. We’re here to help you navigate your way through this. Don’t forget that. You aren’t alone.”
“It feels that way sometimes.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How is that? You’ve got a gifted aunt and Connor. He seems more than willing to help.”
I snorted. “Yeah, he’s willing. I guess.”
“What does that mean? Because I read people, and girl, he’s solidly into you. Very into you.”
“It’s complicated.”
It was her turn to choke back a reaction. “It’s a relationship between a male and female. Of course it’s complicated. Feelings are hard to deal with on good terms. Add sex to the mix and it’s explosive.”
“Should it be this hard? We lie and hide stuff from one another constantly. We worry and stress out and fight and make up. We’re each other’s crutch and we call each other on the bullshit, but...”
“But what? Because all that doesn’t sound that bad.”
“But what’s real and not real? What makes the energy from Evan bad and the energy from Connor good? They both take away the pain, but how do I know if one is the addiction and one is not?” I cried, utterly confused and frustrated.
“To start with, Connor is here. He’s alive and he loves you. And from what you’re telling me, he’ll protect you and fight for you.”
“And Evan?”
“Oh, honey, Evan’s dead. Embrace the living. Sort out the dead and let them go. Take energy from those around you who have living, positive energy to share. Don’t steal from the dead. You never know, they may take you back with them.” With those words, she leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea.
*
“You’re home!”
“I’m back, baby, what’d I miss?” Ava said from inside her closet. She was in the middle of unpacking from her spontaneous visit with Christian.
“Nothing much. Just more ghostie drama and Connor drama and oh, right, I have a new circle of psychic friends courtesy of Madam Rosemarie, aka Nina the psychic.”
“Oh, wow. I keep missing all the good stuff.”
“Not really. It’s all a fudging mess.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nope. Not really.” I noticed a shoe box on my bed. Running, but not my style. A sticky note was on top with my name printed in block letters. “What’s that?”
“It was outside the door when I got here. New shoes?”
“The box looks a little big for me.” Running shoes size 11? I had a feeling I knew who left it for me. I sat down and placed the box in my lap. What now, Connor? I should’ve known he’d never really give me space. It’s against his nature.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m afraid to open it.”
“Why?” she laughed.
“Because it’s all a hot mess. I’m a mess. He’s a mess.”
She looked up from her pile of accumulating laundry. “Am I missing something? Since when did you and Connor move from no big deal to a mess?”
When he kissed me? When we slept together? When he followed me into ghost world and challenged my intentions? God, the list was endless and I was too embarrassed to admit it. “It’s always been that way with us.”
“Yep, it has. And really it’s time to let it go. You dig him. He digs you. Maybe if you cut through som
e of that sexual tension this would get better.”
I coughed, then snorted and then burst into heaving laughter and tears. Ava’s jaw dropped in confusion and she rushed at me. “What! What did I say wrong?”
I kept laughing and crying and buried my face under my pillow. Ava sat by my side and waited me out, finally asking, “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not, but I’ll figure it out.”
She picked a tear-soaked piece of hair off my cheek. “Maybe you should stop over-thinking everything. Stop fighting it. Use your instincts. With Connor. With the ghosts. With everything.”
“If only it were that easy.”
“Maybe it is.” Ava sighed and pushed her glasses off of her nose and into her hair. “Open the box, Jane.”
I sat up and, for once without fighting, I followed directions.
Chapter 20
Jane,
Writing is not my gift. It never has been. I prefer paint and expressing myself visually. Words feel awkward and they never seem to convey what I want to get across. I can’t use colors or bold strokes. I can’t shade away my fears or layer into shadows. I can’t hide behind symbols and imagery. All I have is honesty and I’m not sure how to give that to you.
Not yet.
The wilderness is okay. The withdrawals are not. Not from the drugs or the hazy influence of Charlotte. Not from you. I miss you. Your love and unwavering support. I miss other things about you, but they monitor these letters and I won’t share that with anyone but you.
I think it will be good here. I think one day you and I can get back on track. I know why you let me go, but I don’t think I can ever fully break our bond. But I’ll give you time and space if that’s what you need. We’ve both got things to work on.
Connor
*
Jane,
The last week has been rough. Okay, it sucked. Withdrawals from the psychic world may be harder than anything else. I miss the hazy fog of pot. I crave Charlotte. Well, not her, I guess, but the feeling she gave me when she was snuggled up in my head like a tumor. At first it felt like a friend, but then she became a cancer eating away at everything she touched. First me, then you. I can’t believe she almost took you away. That I allowed that to happen.
That I risked you for her.
I get it. I know why you’re mad. I know why you pushed me away. I’m going to work this out. It’s time. I can’t run from the ghosts. Neither can you. When I come back, I’ll be stronger for both of us.
Connor
Dear Jane,
How are you? Things here are okay. Well, better than okay, I think. The temperature’s dropped and it’s way colder out here than back at home, but I’m getting used to it. I’ve learned so many things out here that I can’t imagine using back home. It’s okay though, they’re pretty cool. I can light a fire using flint. I can make a shelter out of branches and sticks. I can climb trees and go on 10 mile hikes.
You should see my beard. I look like a mountain man. My mom would hate it.
I’m also learning to deal with the spirit world. There are people here that believe me and helped me find the resources and coping skills to manage my gift. I hope you’re managing it, too.
I got your letters. All of them. They make me sad because I feel the distance in your words. It’s hard being in a long-distance non-relationship. Especially one as damaged as ours.
Take care,
Connor
*
There were more. Some simply drawings. Sketches about his day. Crows and ravens sitting on a tree branch. Symbols I didn’t understand. Pictures of my face and eyes and one intricate one of my hand, down to the mole on my index finger. They are all bound together, in order, day after day, held tight with a yellowing rubber band.
I’d accused him months ago of ignoring me and never contacting me while he was gone. Not once. That I wrote letters that went unanswered. That I released my feelings in the wind. But, obviously, that wasn’t entirely true. He wrote them. He just never delivered them.
Not until now.
I couldn’t decide if I was angry or heartbroken. Elated? Just what I needed, more emotions on top of my already frazzled nerves. Looking up from the pile of papers strewn across my legs and bed, I realized Ava had left at some point. I vaguely recalled Amber knocking on the door and saying something about dinner. Picking up my phone, I typed out:
Where are you?
Dorm.
Meet me outside in an hour. I’m walking over.
You okay?
Yes. No. Maybe? I got your letters.
I’ll be there.
I gathered my shower stuff and hit the bathroom. Water sloshed over my toes and I frowned at a girl from down the hall standing at the sink. Real or not real?. The fact I didn’t know any more was terrifying. In an even voice, I said, “I don’t know when they’ll fix this water leak.”
“It’s gross.” She never looked away from the mirror.
I took my shower quickly, keeping an ear out for the sobs that followed the leaks. That much I’d figured out. They were tied together. The leak meant Kelsey may be in the house. What for? That was for me to figure out. I rinsed my hair and shut off the faucet. The bathroom was quiet, despite the lively noises filtering in from up and down the hall.
“I know you’re here,” I said. “I don’t know what you want, but I know you’re here. I’m going to figure it out and I’m going to stop it.”
A thick throaty laugh echoed through the bathroom, bouncing off the dated green tiles. I clutched my towel under my chin. “I get it. You’re tiny pieces of something bad. A little bit of Charlotte and Hazel, and a bunch of other ghosties. I can handle it. In fact, I’ll even make you a deal. I’ll open up the doorway one more time and you can go back where you came from. Otherwise, I’ll have to take you down.”
The air shimmered in front of me, blasting a cool gust of wind across my damp arms and face. The spirit morphed into a variety of faces, shadowy ones I couldn’t recognize and dozens of people I’d helped in the past. It settled on the most unnerving one, Hazel. I couldn’t discern if she was here willingly or not.
“Bad things are coming. My daddy said so.”
“You keep telling me that, Hazel, but I need to know more,” I said with a guarded edge.
“They’re bad, Jane. Really bad. The bad man is coming and we have to hide.”
“I’m not big on hiding, but I can help you get out of here whenever you’re ready.”
“Oh, I’m not allowed to leave. My daddy said so.”
“What’s your daddy’s name, Hazel?”
“Daddy.”
Of course.
Hazel reached out a tiny hand and I almost took it because the craving ran deep. But I saw the glint in her eye and the tiny smile on her lips. “Who are you really?”
Hazel stayed in front of me, tiny and vulnerable, but her voice changed to something deep and unworldly. “I’m the things your nightmares are made of, Jane. You’ve been such a lovely host, but your usefulness is coming to an end. Once I’m done, you’ll feel the consequences of our relationship.” Hazel’s face exploded into a dozen black birds, frantically seeking a way out of the enclosed space. Her body turned to a thick, black smoke. I cried out, bracing myself for an attack, but the birds and smoke disappeared, exiting through the drains in the sinks and showers.
The minute the room cleared, I ran to the stall and fell on my knees, vomiting in the toilet.
*
“You never told me about this car.” The accusation in Amber’s voice was clear, but her eyes and body carried a flirtatious air. She had a long arm draped over the driver’s side door – Connor’s door. “It’s fantastic.”
I assessed the scene, but nothing came out of my mouth but, “Um…”
“I thought I’d pick you up,” Connor said through the open window. Amber wasn’t alone. Ava and Tony carried on a conversation nearby.
“Hey, Raven,” Tony called. He wore a wide grin and pointed to my necklace. Ri
ght. Ravens. After seeing Hazel’s face dissolve into a bunch of birds, I wasn’t feeling too generous.
“Hey, Tony.”
“Any new tattoos?”
“Not yet.”
He winked and I realized he must be playing down our real relationship with Amber and Ava nearby. I didn’t want Amber involved in any of this anyway, so fine by me. I walked past her to the passenger side and opened the squeaky, old door. Stuffy heat rolled out, but I embraced the familiar smell of Connor’s dumpy car. Right now I needed as much comfort as I could get.
Ava made a hand motion directing me to call her later. Tony walked over to my door and said, “I’ll call you guys later. I need to show you something.”
I nodded and Connor nudged the car along, even as Amber continued to talk. “Where are you guys off to?” she asked, walking beside the car.
“Just running out for a while,” Connor said. “We’ll catch up later.”
She finally pried her fingers off the window ledge and he pulled away and muttered, “I swear I’m not doing anything to encourage that.”
“Seems to be your type.”
“What’s that?”
“Bossy and controlling.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You think that’s what I want?”
I sighed and looked out the window into the dark night. “No. I think that’s who wants you though. Taming Connor Jacobs – that’s a challenge, I guess.”
The car cut through the fading afternoon light and he left the downtown area, slipping onto the highway. I should have asked where we were going, but I didn’t. Part of me hoped we were running away. Instead, I sunk lower into my seat and said, “I’m tired, Connor.”
He reached over the gearshift and his hand found mine. I relaxed into his touch. “I know.”
“I mean really tired. I don’t know if I have the energy to keep up this fight.”
“We’ll get through this. We always do.”
His hand felt nice next to mine. Warmth spider-webbed down my arm. “I read your letters.”
“And...”
“I’m sorry you went through all that alone. That I abandoned you when you needed me most.”
Grave Possession (Wraith 3) Page 16
