“You know how Mom gets with her projects. She probably lost track of time.” Even as I said it, I wiped sweaty palms on my jeans and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut. I’m not even sure why I bothered trying to defend her.
He didn’t even turn to look at me. “Let’s face it, Claire. Mom’s so devoted to making the house into her dream home, she forgot to get us.”
I wanted to protest, but knew when we got home she’d be in the back rooms. And thirty minutes later, after we’d trudged up the driveway when the bus dropped us off, I discovered I was right.
“Mom?” Grant yelled. He flung his book bag into the corner of the foyer so hard a picture bounced and nearly shot off the wall.
There was rustling, and then her head appeared around the corner of the door in the back room. Her hair was bound with a red handkerchief, and dirt smudged her cheeks.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry guys. I got caught up in what I was doing and lost track of time. You won’t believe what I’ve found in here. Come and see!”
Grant snorted. “Like hell.”
She frowned at him, but he was around the corner and upstairs before she lodged a real protest. My throat ached with the effort of keeping my own angry words in.
“Aren’t you leaving for work soon?”
Panic flickered and she leapt to her feet. “What time is it?”
“Almost four.”
She ran past me upstairs, cursing under her breath. At least the house didn’t seem able to keep her from remembering all her duties. Only the ones involving Grant and me. Bitterness brought tears to my eyes, but I shoved the emotion aside.
I headed up to my room, dropping my book bag next to the desk. Dull, repetitious bass thumped through the wall between Grant’s room and mine. Loud angry music and a shut door. Universal signs he was pissed at Mom.
In another world, she’d have gone and nagged him through the door until he opened it and they talked about whatever was wrong.
That was then, and this was now.
I wasn’t going to stand at his door. Instead, I’d opt for the more subtle way to Grant’s heart—food.
As I left my room, I paused. The temperature dropped, and I turned my head toward the tower library. The door was open, and inside, the wheelchair that had freaked me out sat in the center of the room, the empty, cracked seat facing the door. When my eyes rested on it, the wheels squeaked forward a few inches.
My heart leapt in my throat. The cold latched on to my skin, freezing me to the spot. I didn’t want to see anything. Willed myself not to, but it was too late for that. A bit of darkness broke off from the shadows at the back of the room. The shape flickered and bent like light through water. An old movie screen version of a small girl with pinafore and ringlets bounced up behind the chair, until just her eyes were visible over the back.
Dark, black orbs that glinted despite the foggy quality of the ghost. A high-pitched giggle echoed around me and the hair on my nape rose. The small face rose behind the chair, a smile plumping cherub cheeks before her lips parted and revealed needle-like teeth. I shrieked, and the door to the room slammed shut.
Mom’s head popped out of her room. “What happened?”
“I—” The words didn’t want to come out of my mouth.
Mom’s brow furrowed and she took in the closed door. Her mouth curled at the corners like she enjoyed a private joke. “You must have seen the doll I found in there earlier. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Doll?” I croaked.
She walked out, pulling a bathrobe around her tighter. She moved past me, and curled her fingers around the door handle.
“You don’t need to open it.” I said.
“Yes I do. You need to see there’s nothing there. Really, Claire, you’re beginning to worry me.”
She pushed open the door, and the chair sat where it was before, only this time a dirt-speckled porcelain doll sat in the seat. The eyes were open, a cloudy blue glass that matched the blue dress and pinafore. Minus the black eyes and teeth, it was the image of the little girl.
Except it hadn’t been there before.
“See? Nothing but a doll. It’s just precious, isn’t it?” Her fingers stroked a line down the curve of the cheek.
“Not quite what I’d call it.” I mumbled.
She shot me a sharp look, and I didn’t understand the hostility in her eyes. Again, the feeling that someone else was looking at me moved over me like a wet blanket.
“I’m sorry?”
I shook my head, backing out of the room. “Nothing. That must’ve been it. Just scared me I guess. I’m going to make dinner now. You better finish getting dressed.”
I forced myself not to bolt downstairs, instead walking at a normal speed and ignoring the itch between my shoulder blades. As I hit the bottom of the stairs, I thought I heard Mom chuckle before her door closed again.
I leaned against the doorjamb of the kitchen and let my body warm as the temperature rose again. I focused on breathing. A creepy ghost kid is bad enough. But those teeth…goose bumps flowed down my arms again. That was nowhere close to a good thing. The heavy bass thumping changed to a slower beat and I closed my eyes, letting out a long breath. At least Grant hadn’t seen it. His music had covered my scream. I had to get it together. If Grant came down and saw me freaked out, he’d want an explanation. He was already having nightmares, and this wouldn’t help.
With a sigh, I headed into the kitchen. I pulled some hamburger from the fridge and set about making burgers. Doing something normal made the supernatural stuff around me more bearable. About the time I had them sizzling in a pan and started arranging the toppings and buns on the counter, I heard Mom tear downstairs.
“Bye, sweetie. I’ll be back around four-thirty. Get some sleep, and try to get your brother in bed at a decent time. If you need me, my cell is on, or you can call the factory. The number is on the pad next to the phone.”
She pressed a kiss to my cheek, pulled an insulated lunch box from the fridge, and threw her purse over her shoulder. She paused in the doorway, patting her pockets for her keys. When she found them, she tossed a smile over one shoulder and hurried out the door.
The change in behavior confused me. There was no hint that she’d even talked to me upstairs. Grant waited a total of two minutes after the front door closed to come downstairs.
“You don’t need to make sure I get into bed. I’m old enough to manage on my own,” he grumbled.
I pulled the lid off the hamburgers and flipped off the gas. “Good. Because I didn’t intend to chase you around like a two-year-old.”
***
Grant and I tossed a coin for dinner clean up. It must have been fate, because as my side popped up, someone knocked on the front door.
“Two out of three?” Grant begged.
I shook my head. “No way. You lost.”
I was still grinning when I opened the door to find a very somber Bryan standing on the porch.
“Hey, Claire.”
“Hi.” I stepped onto the porch, knowing Grant was already in a foul mood. Bringing Bryan inside would not improve it. “What’s up?”
“I want to apologize for earlier. And I’ve got some news, but I don’t quite know what to do about it.”
“Apology accepted.” Unease coiled into a tight knot in my gut. “What kind of news?”
His expression was hard to read in the growing twilight. Shifting from one foot to the other, he couldn’t seem to find the words to start. Dread made my stomach turn. My pulse skyrocketed while my hands shook. I clenched my fingers into fists. “What’s wrong?”
He stopped, his hands cupping my shoulders. “I know you probably think I’m a stalker.”
I could feel my face flush. “That’s not true,” I stammered. “Just a little overzealous maybe.”
His smile was lopsided. “Thanks, but you aren’t saying anything I haven’t heard before. I like you, and I’ve come on
too strong. I am sorry, and I hope someday you will be able to look past that.”
I felt lower than dirt. “Sure, Bryan. You’re just a little intense. I’m not used to it.”
He paused again, letting go of my shoulders. “That’s not why I came over tonight, but I wanted to apologize first, so maybe you won’t blow me off now.” He took a deep breath. “You seem to be getting really interested in Haven. Have you found out about his special…talents?”
“Talents?”
“He’s psychic,” he said. “Sees the future. Freaky stuff.”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, okay. Pull the other leg.”
“I’m not kidding. He’s not safe, Claire.”
I was offended for him. “This is a ridiculous conversation.”
He shook his head. “Don’t blow me off. I have proof.”
“Really? Because it sounds like you’re jealous. This is a crappy way to try and get my attention.” I wanted to cover my ears and run back inside.
Bryan’s face alternated between sympathy and anger. “I actually believe in psychics and the supernatural. Intensely. I’m part of a paranormal research team around here. And for the record, I am jealous. But that’s not why I’m here.”
He was a ghost hunter? I wasn’t sure if I should be more worried or amused. I raised an eyebrow. “Not the only reason?”
“Not the only reason, anyway.” He shook his head. “Haven is different. But you aren’t going to listen to me.”
“Bryan—”
He held up one finger. “Haven is a social outcast, you know. With no chance of getting back into normal society. Being friends with him will only make you an outcast.”
“Who I hang out with is my own business, Bryan. And you’re one to talk. You accuse him of all kinds of things, and then tell me you’re a ghost hunter. You really expect me to take you seriously after that? Being psychic is not a crime.”
Bryan stepped forward. “Sometimes it is. The police investigated him five or six years ago, you know. After the new girl in school went missing and wound up dead.”
Ice rushed through my blood stream. “What?”
A smug smile curled over his face. “He didn’t mention it? He was seen at a party getting into an argument with her. She went missing the same night. First everyone blamed it on him, then on your house, then on her wild-child ways.”
“My house?” I pushed at his chest. “What has it got to do with the house?”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s what you’re focused on?”
“Answer my question.”
“She lived here. They moved right after they buried her. Couldn’t stand to be so close to the boy who killed her.”
“You say it like you think he did. You live pretty close too, you know.”
Bryan’s hand closed over my wrist, hard. I winced, and he relaxed his grip. But only a bit. “You don’t know anything about us. Don’t ever compare me to my cousin.”
“He’s your cousin?” I stared.
“Yes. And I know him better than you think I do.”
“I know enough about both of you,” I said. “And what I know about you isn’t turning out to be very flattering.” With a tug, I yanked my hand out of his grasp. “Now leave me alone. I’ve got things to do.”
“You’ll live to regret this.”
I recoiled. “Are you threatening me?”
He blinked. For a second, he almost sounded like someone else. “Of course not. I’m trying to be a good friend and give you fair warning.”
“Get the hell off my porch, Bryan. You are not my friend.”
He turned away and marched down the porch, his face flushed red, chest heaving with the effort to control himself. I wondered how often he lost the battle. My knees turned to jelly and I sat down hard on the front steps. My hands shook with delayed adrenaline. I wrapped my arms across my chest, the conversation playing again in my head.
He disappeared around the corner of the house and into the darkening woods. After a few minutes, I heard the screen door open and close as Grant emerged and sat down beside me.
“You okay?”
“How much of that did you hear?”
He shrugged. “He wasn’t exactly quiet.”
“Great.” I dropped my forehead to my knees.
“You’re scared of him.” My brother slid a hand over my shoulder and tugged me back into a sitting position. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes. No.” I inhaled deep and released it in a steady stream. “I don’t know. He’s so intense one minute and then the next it’s gone. Maybe I’m imagining things.”
Grant snorted. “That’s what he does. Confuse people. There’s a reason everyone gives in to Bryan. He’s hiding something.”
“They give in to him because his parents own half the town. Any secrets are irrelevant. He’s got money and enough friends to make him invincible. Unlike you or I. Outside of that, I don’t know what to think of him. Every time I make up my mind, he does something off.”
“What about reading his mind?”
“I’m tempted, I admit. But it doesn’t always work. And what if it overwhelms me?” My stomach twisted. “Worse, what if I don’t like what I find?”
Grant stared out into the darkening twilight. “Better to know it now, rather than later, don’t you think?”
I shrugged.
“Try from a distance. Maybe the separation will make it easier.”
I wanted to protest, but he had a point. I was home, should the worst happen. For the last year, I’d hidden from myself. Now was as good a time as any to try again. After a few deep breaths, I opened my mind and stretched, searching for Bryan. In my mind’s eye, each person appeared as a point of bright light. For a second, I was startled to see the house had a strange glow about it as well. It pulsed, a strange greenish glow like a half-spent glow stick. I didn’t touch it, afraid of what I would find. The girl earlier had been enough of the house for one night. Instead, I pushed it aside to examine later and reached out for the fading light that was Bryan. He was little more than a whisper now, and growing fainter. There was less emotion than I thought. Disappointment, frustration, and a running diatribe about girls being corrupted by Haven’s charms. A few more seconds, and he faded from my range completely.
“Well?” Grant asked.
I blinked until he came back into focus and I was certain the shutters were back down on my senses. “Nothing. Some ranting words. Not much emotion.”
“See?” Grant spread his hands. “He’s a psychopath. I rest my case.”
“Or he has a natural block.” I rolled my eyes at Grant’s dramatics. “Some people can keep me out. Just because you don’t like him, it doesn’t make him a serial killer.”
“Close enough,” he muttered.
I stood. “Let’s go in. There’s a brownie with my name on it.”
Grant brushed off his pants. “If he touches you again, I’m going to open a can of whoop-ass on him.”
Warmth spread through me, and tears burned my eyes for a moment. “Thanks. But it isn’t going to happen again. Besides, he’s got about three inches and sixty pounds on you.”
“Still.”
I hugged him. “You’re pretty awesome for being such a butthead, you know.”
He grinned and pretended to polish his nails on his shirt. “Yeah, I know.”
Chapter Eleven
Haven waited for me outside the school the next morning. Concern wrinkled his forehead as he snagged my elbow and pulled me to the side. I motioned Grant on, and he nodded after waving a greeting to Haven. For whatever reason, my brother really approved of him.
“Are you okay?”
Confused, I tilted my head. “What? Why?”
He glanced around us. It was early, so there weren’t too many people at school yet. Even so, as one of the few passed by, I saw a new level of curiosity and wariness in the glance she shot me. Dread churned in my stomach, and I barely stopped m
yself from clutching Haven’s hands.
“What’s wrong, Haven?”
“Bryan and I had a chat this morning.” His jaw tightened. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. If I’d kept my distance, you wouldn’t have gotten caught in the middle of this. He’s taking out his frustrations with me on you.”
I sighed and ran a hand over my face. In less than thirty seconds, I felt ten years older. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
Haven shifted, adjusting his book bag and shook his head. “No. You don’t have to be nice. It’d be better if you’d go ahead and yell at me.” He stared over my head, looking at something I couldn’t see. He added, in a voice so soft I almost missed it, “You are caught up in so much, and you don’t even know it.”
Irritation pricked my temper. “Which part are you referring to?”
He glanced back down at me, surprise on his face.
“The part where your cousin is scaring me? Or the part where my family is a mess and living in a seriously freaky haunted house? Or maybe, all the creepy secrets implied about you and your cousin?”
Haven jerked as if I’d struck him, then his features went blank and stiff. “So you’ve heard about Melanie, have you?”
“Yes.” I hadn’t heard a name, but I figured it was a safe assumption we were talking about the girl who disappeared.
Despite the blank, emotionless façade, I saw hurt flash in his eyes. I didn’t really understand why. I hadn’t accused him of anything. He looked at me, and I met his gaze without fear. For several seconds, we stood like that, until I had the strangest feeling there was a connection between us.
I blinked and looked away. Even so, there seemed to be a connection in me, joining us, and I didn’t like the sensation.
Clearing his throat, he held out one hand. “I think you and I need to ditch school today.”
The world paused for a moment. “What?”
I’d never missed a day on purpose in my life. Even when at my worst. “There’s a test in Mr. Larsen’s class today.”
Haven smirked. “Chicken?”
“It’ll ruin my perfect attendance,” I said.
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