I pulled up a chair where I could see his screen. “First off, what do you think—is this the woman from your dream, the one you saw in the mirror?” He brought up an old photograph. The woman’s hair was slightly different and she looked a little younger, but the hard set to her jaw and the cold eyes were unmistakable.
“That’s her.”
“Her name was Wilomena Patten,” Teag said. “The photo is from her obituary, so it’s of her when she was younger. At one time, she lived in the spook house. That was about five years ago. Wilomena died without any heirs and the property was foreclosed for back taxes.”
“So whatever magic she had didn’t make her wealthy,” I observed.
Teag shrugged. “A lot of people aren’t into magic for money—they want control. Reading between the lines, I don’t get the impression very many people liked Wilomena. Maybe that’s why.”
“What else?” I glanced at my phone again. Sorren hadn’t called, so I checked the time instead.
“I found this,” Teag said, and another photo came up on the screen. I recognized the vanity table and mirror sets immediately. “Where did you find that?” I asked.
He grinned and waggled his fingers. “My Google-fu is strong,” he intoned. “Actually, it was at the public auction on the house. And from what I can see, the three pieces didn’t sell. Someone bid on them, but they backed out at the last minute. So the best I can figure out is that the auctioneer has had them in a back room all this time.”
That would figure, especially if the pieces had bad juju. Pretty as they were—and maybe even valuable—buyers would shy away. I wondered why the auctioneer hadn’t just junked the pieces. Maybe Wilomena was still able to exert some control from beyond the grave.
“You’re sure it’s the same auctioneer Rennie used to source the pieces for the spook house?”
Teag nodded. “Yeah. I wonder if the auctioneer has noticed a difference with the mirrors gone. Like his health improving or more money coming in. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
I went to the fridge and poured glasses of iced tea for both of us. There isn’t much in life that can’t be made better by a glass of ice cold tea with enough sugar to make you vibrate. “They’d had the vanity table for a little while at the spook house. It just caused some minor paranormal activity. What made it suddenly get so dangerous?”
Teag brought up another photo. “I think the mirror pieces were separated for a while,” he said. “Look—in this auction photo, it’s just the table with the larger mirror in back and the hand mirror. No tray. But all three pieces are in the spook house—the house that Wilomena used to own until she died and outsiders ‘stole’ it from her.”
“So the tray went missing for a while,” I speculated. “Maybe it got mixed in with other stuff from the house, off in another crate somewhere. They auctioneer finds it and just so happens to get a call from Rennie for props—for the house that Wilomena used to live in.” I’ll chalk one or two things up to coincidence, but not this many. It sounded to me like Wilomena was using her power to orchestrate the situation.
“But what does she want with Susan Mayfair’s ghost—and Briana?” I asked.
Teag leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea. “We don’t know whether Wilomena was forced into the mirror by someone else, or chose to send her spirit in there because she knew she was dying,” he said. “If it was the second situation, perhaps she was growing weaker. If she needed an energy boost, she might have been able to get one from trapping Susan’s spirit in with her.”
“And Briana?” I asked, feeling a shiver go down my spine.
“I’m not sure she’s dead,” Teag replied. “But I don’t know where she is. And I think that whatever occurred, Wilomena made it happen.”
I drained my glass and poured myself another one. I couldn’t be more jumpy with caffeine and sugar than I already was. “I wish Sorren was here.”
“Maybe he’ll get your message,” Teag said. “Stranger things have happened.”
* * *
Eleven o’clock rolled around faster than I expected, and Teag and I found ourselves back at the spook house with Father Anne and Kell. Father Anne was wearing a clerical collar over a black t-shirt, black jeans and her Doc Martens. Teag and I brought some of the magical items we use to protect ourselves and fend off supernatural bad nasties. Kell had enough ghost hunter gear that it made me want to start humming the theme to Ghostbusters.
By night, the spook house looked much more intimidating than in the daytime. Rennie and his special effects crew knew what they were doing. I’d been in plenty of genuinely scary abandoned houses, most of which did a good job of hiding just how dangerous they were until you were inside.
This house had been designed to prey on every Hollywood horror trope, from the boarded up windows to the shutters that were rigged to ‘flap’ against the siding, to the creepy, lit-from-below lighting that gave me the shivers.
“Just remember, it’s all fake, except for the mirror and the ghost,” Kell said from behind me.
“It’s the ‘except’ part that might be the sticking point,” Teag replied. He and I had come with plenty of gear to take on paranormal threats. I still hadn’t figured out how I would explain that part to Kell yet. I knew that Teag had a net made of knotted rope soaked in colloidal silver, and another fine metal net with a powdered silver coating. He also had his fighting staff, carved with runes and juiced up with rope knots that stored magic power, which made him a formidable opponent. Just for luck, he wore a hamsa charm and an agimat, both talismans to ward against evil.
I had an old dog collar on my left wrist that could summon a ghostly dog protector, my wooden athame up my right sleeve, and an old Norse spindle whorl in my pocket to amp up my magic. For protection, I wore an agate necklace and had rings and bracelets made of onyx and tourmaline.
Father Anne had her faith, a potent weapon in itself, and in case that wasn’t enough, an old boline knife from a long-dead priest that had its own potent magic. If Sorren got here in time, we’d have his vampire strength and speed, always an advantage. I checked my phone, but there were no new texts. I swore under my breath, then sighed and squared my shoulders. We’d have to handle this without him.
Kell had his ghost hunter equipment—EMF readers and audio recorders and temperature detectors. None of that would protect him. Those gadgets were all about proving the existence of ghosts. If the spirit in the mirror was really behind Briana’s disappearance, I was afraid that our problem wouldn’t be getting a ghost to manifest—it would be making the ghost disappear. Then I noticed Kell had also brought a Louisville Slugger. Maybe he was going to be all right after all.
“Everybody ready?” Kell asked as we stood on the sidewalk.
“I really think you should let us handle this and stay here, on watch,” I said.
Kell shook his head. “That wouldn’t be right. Rennie trusts me with access. I’m responsible if anything goes wrong—or if anyone gets hurt. I should be there.” I couldn’t argue with him. Based on what he knew, we were all a bunch of amateurs doing our best to find Briana. And knowing how stubborn Kell was, he might not agree to back off even if we did tell him that Teag and I had the supernatural vigilante gig down to a science.
“Let’s go,” I said, and Teag gave a curt nod.
I tuned in to my gift, listening hard with all of my senses. When a place is deeply haunted, sometimes I can’t help picking up on the resonance just by walking across the ground. I hadn’t sensed such a strong, malicious presence either of the times I had visited before, but now, my sixth sense was screaming for me to get out of there. I kept on walking, forcing myself to pay attention to what my ability was telling me. Out here, the images were distant, but still disturbing. I sensed Susan Mayfair’s distress, and the dislocation her spirit felt after her suicide, along with a new and panicked desperation. I sensed another, darker entity, and knew that it was the ghost of the woman I had seen in the mirror. What I couldn’t pick up was any sign of Briana. I took
that as a good sign—maybe she was still alive.
“She knows we’re here,” I murmured.
Teag glanced at me. “Dangerous?”
I nodded. “Until proven otherwise.”
“I just want to find Briana—alive,” Kell said. He looked pale and nervous, but I knew from the set of his jaw that he was going to see this thing through.
My sense of foreboding grew stronger as we walked up to the house. I wish psychic gifts came with an on/off switch, but they don’t. Kell unlocked the door and switched on the lights.
“Wow.” Teag and Father Anne spoke at the same instant. The downstairs tableaus were as I remembered them from my previous visit, garish and theatrical in the electric light. Still, they were done well enough to send a chill down my spine. Not real, but real enough to evoke a level of primal fear.
“This is fake. The real work is upstairs,” I said.
Teag led the way. Kell insisted on going next. Father Anne was third, which put me in the rear. I turned back frequently to make certain nothing was following us, but the stairs were empty. The feeling of dread grew stronger as we climbed, and I wondered if the others felt any of the psychic energy that was the equivalent of a ‘no trespassing’ sign in neon.
Every step felt leaden. I wondered what the others were feeling. They looked scared and nervous. But beneath it all, I felt something else. Wilomena’s ghost knew we were coming. So did Susan. We were too far away for me to gather much from the resonance. But I did pick up that one ghost was hoping for rescue, and the other was bent on vengeance.
Just before we reached the landing, Teag paused. “Did you hear that?” he whispered.
“I heard something,” Kell replied. “Just not sure what.” Teag slipped up the last few steps, his staff raised to strike, and Kell was right behind him. Kell had his EMF monitor in one hand, and his baseball bat in the other. He flipped the switch for the hallway lights, but they didn’t work.
“Damn,” Kell muttered. We had come prepared with flashlights, but I didn’t like the fact that something was tampering with the electrical system. Wilomena was getting stronger, and that meant trouble.
“Listen!” I hissed. A distant banging sounded through the old house. I couldn’t place where it was coming from. “What’s that?”
“Pretty sure we’re going to find out,” Father Anne muttered. She had an iron cross in one hand and her blessed boline knife in the other. Both were formidable weapons.
One by one, we emerged onto the second floor. Our lights drove back the shadows, but could not dispel them completely. Wan moonlight filtered from the bedrooms into the hallway. We dared to step toward the master bedroom, where Wilomena’s mirrors were located. That’s when we saw them.
The dolls were waiting for us. They emerged from the shadows with shambling steps, their wooden and porcelain feet thumping against the floorboards. Their faces were expressionless, but their arms were outstretched in unmistakable threat. How they had managed to get from the nursery to where they stood, blocking the hall, I did not want to know, but I could guess. Wilomena had gotten strong enough to make them move, and she was using them to defend herself.
Teag went first, swinging his staff to clear a path. Kell followed with his baseball bat, knocking the wooden bodies out of the way and sending them tumbling down the hallway. The dolls slammed against the walls and crashed into the shadows, but they came crawling back, dragging their damaged bodies along the floor, intent on stopping us.
Father Anne muttered a prayer against evil as she landed a martial arts kick that threw four of the dolls out of the way. I let the old dog collar on my left arm jangle down around my wrist, and the glowing, ghostly figure of a large dog materialized beside me, my old Golden Retriever, Bo. Bo’s head was down and his teeth were bared. He leaped, and took down five of the dolls. They flailed at him but could not do him any damage.
Father Anne dodged to the right, and I dove left, letting the wooden athame beneath my right sleeve fall down into my hand. I drew on the strong emotions and memories invested in that old wooden spoon and sent a blast of cold, white power down the hallway that swept a dozen of the dolls out of our way.
My cell phone buzzed in my pocket with a text message, but there was no time to look at it now. The thumping was louder, though I still couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. The dolls weren’t giving us time to think. Bo’s ghost swung his blocky head, knocking the dolls out of the way, but they got back up and kept on coming. My athame’s blast sent the dolls reeling, but didn’t destroy them.
Kell was swearing under his breath as he used his bat like a croquet hammer, knocking dolls this way and that. Teag was fighting off a dozen dolls that were grabbing at his legs and clinging to his staff with their arms and legs. I didn’t want to ruin Rennie’s decorations, but I drew the line on handling them with care when they attacked.
Even without touching the dolls or the walls of the house, I could sense dark energy all around us. That creepy feeling the mirror had given me when I first visited was now much, much stronger, and every primal instinct warned me to run. Something had juiced up Wilomena’s energy, and now that she had a taste of power, she wanted more.
I heard something on the steps behind us, and turned, hoping Sorren had been able to join us. Instead, I saw the glint of light on a knife blade just in time to dodge out of the way as the mannequin from the bathroom tableau lurched toward me. Bathroom Bertha’s face was a maniacal grimace, and her jointed body moved stiffly. I yelped and dove out of the way, bringing my heavy metal flashlight down hard enough to shatter the mannequin’s plastic cheek. It only made her more horrific as she kept on going, unharmed. I leveled my athame and sent a blast toward her, knocking her down the stairs, but I was certain she would be back—unless we could stop Wilomena.
“Kell and I will hold the hallway,” Teag said. He and Kell stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking the dolls from getting closer to the entrance of the master bedroom. “Cassidy, Father Anne—get to that mirror!”
I managed to avoid stepping on the hidden button that would make the corpse on the bed shriek and move, but it sat up anyhow with a bloodcurdling scream that made both Father Anne and me jump. “Over there!” I said, pointing toward the vanity table, while I held the light on the bed to make sure the figure wasn’t going to come after us. The pounding had grown louder, and it seemed to come from everywhere at once. I watched the door, having no desire for Bathroom Bertha to sneak up on us. A scrabbling noise from the direction of the stairs made me suspect she was already dragging her way back for a rematch.
“I see them!” Father Anne said, and I spared a glance toward the mirrors. Poor, doomed Susan Mayfair’s ghost was pressed against the mirror, screaming soundlessly as she tried to escape. Wilomena tore her away from the glass and as Father Anne moved closer, Wilomena’s ghostly arm stretched beyond the mirrored surface, and grabbed at Father Anne’s shirt, pulling her off balance.
I dove to help Father Anne, grabbing her with my left hand and pulling her back from the mirror while with my right hand, I sent a blast of cold white power from my athame down the connection from me to Father Anne and through Wilomena’s grasp beyond the surface of the mirror.
Wilomena gave a shriek of rage. Father Anne wrested her arm free of Wilomena’s grasp. Outside in the hallway, I heard Teag and Kell slamming wooden dolls out of the way like a demented bowling tournament. The pounding continued, rattling through the whole house. My phone kept buzzing in my pocket. Behind me, I caught a glimpse of Bathroom Bertha with her prop knife clearing the stairs and lurching through the doorway.
Bo’s ghost gave a deep, dangerous growl and leaped at the homicidal mannequin, hitting Bathroom Bertha at chest level and taking them both to the ground. The mannequin’s prop knife looked sharp enough to be a hazard, but it couldn’t hurt Bo. His spirit, empowered by my magic, was strong enough to make him solid enough to do some damage. He bit at the figure’s mechanical arm, grabbing the wrist between his strong
jaws and refusing to let go as Bathroom Bertha flopped from side to side trying to shake him off.
Father Anne raised the boline knife to shatter the mirrors. “Wait!” I yelled. “If you do that, we’ll never free Susan’s spirit!”
I knew what I had to do, even though I didn’t like it. “Anchor me!” I shouted to Father Anne. Then I dove toward the mirror and felt my arm sink through the glass as if it were water instead of solid.
“Susan!” I shouted. Susan Mayfair’s ghost grabbed for my hand as Wilomena surged forward. I closed my grip on Susan’s cold hand, solid here behind the mirror. I hurled her past me, toward the mirror’s surface, out of this place between life and death that had imprisoned her. Father Anne had a hold of me by the waist, anchoring me in the world of the living.
Susan’s ghost fled the mirror-world through my body, and I shivered uncontrollably. Wilomena screamed in rage, and grabbed my shoulders with her bony hands.
“She was nearly used up,” Wilomena’s voice grated as she pulled me toward her. “You’ll do nicely instead.”
Bo was barking in a frenzy, but he couldn’t get through the mirror to help me. I had slipped my athame back up my sleeve to grab Susan, and now I let it slide back and drew on the stored memories of the old wooden spoon, as my fear and anger juiced up my power. The blast caught Wilomena square in the chest but the old witch hung on, trying to grab my athame away from me.
Father Anne pulled hard. I felt like I might be torn in two. Suddenly, the cold metal mesh of Teag’s net fell over my head and shoulders, enveloping me and the vanity table’s mirror in its silver knots. Wilomena’s grasp faltered, and Father Anne jerked me back out of the mirror. I stumbled backward, but my head came up just in time to see Father Anne bring her boline knife down into the hand mirror.
Wilomena screamed, throwing herself at the mirror to grab Father Anne and drag her into the shadow world, but the silver net kept her back. The knife hit the small mirror and shattered the glass an instant before Teag slammed his staff into the mirrored tray and then pivoted to splinter the larger vanity table mirror. Father Anne had been chanting all along, and as I got to my feet, I realized it was the Rite of Exorcism which she finished in one final shout as the mirrors cracked.
Modern Magic Page 263
