A Whispered Darkness

by Vanessa Barger

  “If he was interested in experimenting, it would give you access to lots of people who were forgotten and unwanted.”

  “Those poor people. No wonder they haunt the house.”

  Haven frowned. There’s more to it than that. These articles and notes talk about his interest in ghosts and psychics a lot. There’s got to be a reason.”

  “Well, she said a paranormal team put all this together. Maybe it’s because of who did the research.”

  Haven’s face didn’t change much. I rose, grabbing the files and tapping the stack on the tabletop. “Let’s see if she’ll let me make copies of all this,” I said. “Then we’ll go on and have lunch.”

  Haven couldn’t seem to decide whether he should argue or go with it. “We can stay longer,” he finally offered.

  I shook my head. “This stuff can wait a few hours. Let’s go have some un-ghostly fun.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Haven pulled into the parking lot of the Irish Eyes Pub and turned off the car. “This okay for lunch?”

  “Definitely.” I got out, putting the stack of papers still warm from the copier, in the backseat. “So where are we headed today? Other than the bookstore.”

  “There are other destinations?” He teased.

  “Why aren’t you dating anyone again?”

  He held open the door. “Don’t want my secret to get out.”

  The waitress asked how many and led us to a table. I slid into the booth, and she asked for our drinks. We ordered and I opened my menu.

  “Probably because I haven’t found anyone I liked enough. Besides, I was kind of hoping you might change that situation in the near future.”

  I blushed. “That all depends on how well you do today, I guess.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. My grandfather is always telling me I won’t mind shopping and such if it’s the right girl.”

  We paused as the waitress slid our drinks in front of us. I shifted in my seat. “You don’t talk about him often. I assumed he was…well…”

  He shook his head. “Not dead. They’re divorced, and Grandpa lives in another state. He visits when he can, but it isn’t as often as I’d like.”

  “That sucks.”

  Haven nodded. “Yes, but it’s okay. When he does come, we have a blast. I never knew my dad, so he’s always been the one I looked up to.”

  The waitress came over, pen poised on her notepad to take our order, interrupting us. We hadn’t paid much attention to the menu, but we both ordered cheeseburgers and waited until she wandered away again.

  He leaned forward. “What about you? How are you doing with everything?”

  I played with my napkin. “Grant’s told you about Dad, I guess?”

  He nodded. “Don’t be mad at him.”

  “I’m not.” I said. “He needed to talk to someone. He won’t tell me much, and you’ve heard what he’s like with Mom. To say they don’t get along is a massive understatement.”

  “Yeah, I got that. But you didn’t answer my question.”

  I sighed “I’m okay. I mean, it sucks, but Dad was one of the first ones to tell me I was nuts…before. So I don’t exactly miss him.”

  “That bites.”

  “Yeah. I think it was more because he thought if I was psychic I would know what he was doing.”

  Haven tilted his head. “Did you?”

  “Yes and no. Eventually, yes. He thought about it too hard, I guess. But he didn’t need me to screw up things with Mom.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault. It is what it is.” Taking a sip of my drink, I blinked back unexpected tears.

  The awkward pause lengthened. “Well, I hope things here will get better.”

  I thought about Mom, then forced a smile and tried to lighten the mood. I could still be imagining the things I saw in her. “I think it’s already gotten better.”

  “Whew! We need to talk about something else.”

  “Like what stores I’m going to drag you through?”

  He threw a hand over his forehead and groaned. “I knew it was too good to be true! No girl only wants to shop at the bookstore.”

  I took a bite of a French fry and waved it around. “When I have a boy to haul things? Never!”

  ***

  My mood took a nosedive the second I entered the house. The smell of burnt sage wafted down from upstairs, and I heard Mom and Grant arguing. I dropped my purse and the bags of things I’d bought next to the door.

  “What the hell is wrong with it? It’s my freaking room!” Grant yelled, his words clear as I climbed slowly up the stairs. “You had no right!”

  “I will not have any son of mine using incense or candles in his room. You were probably covering up the smell of weed or something!” Mom stood, hands on her hips, cobwebs clinging to her bandana and shirt.

  I paused, one hand still on the banister, and a frown growing on my face. White crystals were scattered around the floor, a pile of them mixed with dirt outside Grant’s door. A broom and the dustpan rested against the wall outside.

  “Now you’re accusing me of taking drugs? Really, Mom?”

  “How would I know? You never talk to me anymore.”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “That’s because you aren’t listening. I told you why I had the sage burning. It’s the truth!”

  Mom fisted her hands on her hips. “There are no ghosts in this house, and even if there were, what would sage do? Repel them with the awful smell?”

  Mom turned to grab the handle of the broom, and I gasped. Around her neck, sparkling like it was brand-new, was the locket I’d seen on the wheelchair earlier. She spun to face me.

  “What’s the matter?” she demanded.

  “I’m surprised to find you two screaming at each other.”

  “Your brother and I were having a discussion.”

  Grant cut her off. “Don’t lie to her. You went ballistic over me burning sage and salt.”

  “Because it’s inappropriate!” Mom yelled.

  I stepped up the last few stairs, reaching out to touch Mom’s arm. She whirled, anger vibrating off her body. “And you—rejecting gifts! Unacceptable!”

  “Mom.” I kept my voice soft. “What are you talking about?”

  She stared at me, her chest heaving. I reached forward and touched the necklace around her neck. “Where did you get this?”

  “I found it.” She slapped my hand away. “The two of you have not made this move easy, and I’m trying my best. I expect you to do the same. Grant, clean up this mess and stop burning that crap. I won’t have it.” She pointed a finger at me. “I’m sure you’re the one who gave him the idea in the first place. Stop it. There is nothing wrong with this house.”

  I grabbed the hand waving in front of my face. “You’re in denial, Mom, and you know it.”

  “Don’t you dare take that tone of voice with me.” Her face screwed up into a snarl. “You are the one filling his head with nonsense. No wonder he has nightmares.”

  Mom’s wristwatch beeped, and she blinked. It was strange. I could almost see a switch flip on inside her head. For a moment, she stared at me, and I saw confusion in the crease of her brow.

  “I have to go get ready for work.” She pulled her hand from mine.

  “It’s Saturday,” I said.

  “I switched with another girl to get some more hours. This place needs a lot of work, and that’s expensive.” She pointed to the pile of dirt and salt. “Get this cleaned up.”

  Grant fumed next to the door, and we stared at each other as Mom went into her room, closing the door quietly behind her.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Grant kicked at the pile in front of the dustpan. “I was experimenting, and Mom flipped out.”

  Crossing my arms, I raised a brow. “Try again with more detail. I thought you were going to be gone all day.”

  He motioned me into his room. The sce
nt of burnt sage clung to everything, and the atmosphere was strange. A mixture of calm and angry. I couldn’t understand it, or shake it.

  “Tell me the truth, Grant. What’s going on?” I sat down at his desk, and noticed the fine sprinkling of salt on all the floors. It was thickest in the corners of the room. “You were putting a circle of salt around your room?”

  “I haven’t slept well since we got here. Horrible nightmares and things moving in the room. Haven and some library books gave me a few ideas, so I decided to try them. The salt seemed to help, so I tried burning sage. The instant I started, Mom came tearing downstairs and flipped out. We argued, and I left. When I came back, she’d started sweeping the salt out.”

  I cradled my head in my hands. “I don’t know what’s going on with her. I mean, I know this has been stressful, but I wonder if the ghosts in this house have somehow turned her against us.”

  “It makes sense to me. I mean, otherwise, why would she care about the salt? How would she even have known?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. But we have to be careful. If it really is a ghost trying to possess her, we don’t want to give it more of a reason than it already has.”

  “So you’re saying I shouldn’t be using salt and stuff in here?” He looked close to tears. “I’m going to go nuts if I don’t get a real night’s rest, Sis.”

  “No, I’m saying we’ll wait until she’s gone. Once it’s done, she can’t undo it.”

  “She could sweep away the salt.”

  “Then we’ll do it again tomorrow. And every day after if we have to. You have to sleep, and you have to do it somewhere safe.”

  Grant’s shoulders sagged with relief. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Thanks.”

  “One problem. I only know the general idea. I don’t know the specifics of how this is supposed to work. Do you?”

  “Well, sort of. I got tips from someone who knows, but maybe it would be better to ask him to come and help us out.”

  I knew what he would say, but I asked anyway. “Who?”

  Grant blushed. “Haven.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The house was well kept and everything, from the shape of the building to the bushes and grass, seemed cut into rigid lines. As he climbed the steps and rang the doorbell, Grant tugged down his shirt and smoothed his hair. Before we arrived, he warned me to let him do the talking.

  The fact that Grant was cowed by the presence of Haven’s grandmother said a lot to me about what kind of reception we were likely to get.

  The lock scraped, and the door opened to reveal a tall, whip-thin woman with a frown cut deeply into her lined face. Her white hair was scraped back in a severe bun. The only thing I saw that implied any sort of personality was a profusion of gold and gemstone rings on every finger.

  “Hello Grant.”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Elliot. This is my sister, Claire.”

  I waved, but her frown only deepened.

  “We wondered if Haven was home. I needed to ask him if he could come help me with an assignment.”

  I kept my smile pasted on, even when I wanted to do something crass. Already, I knew I wouldn’t get along well with this woman. There was a permanent sour pucker to her lips that hinted toward an unbending nature. No wonder Haven always came when we called him.

  “What kind of an assignment? Haven hasn’t told me about any sort of group project.”

  Grant shook his head. “No, no, it’s mine. I don’t understand a few things, and Haven has been helping me during study hall. I put off finishing it until this evening, and now I’m stuck.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “That’s what happens when a woman gets divorced and leaves two teenagers to their own devices.”

  My hands clenched into fists where I held them behind my back. Her sharp gaze moved to me, but I continued to smile. I lost a few years of life in the process, but I held the expression.

  Finally, she relented and held up one finger. “Wait here. I’ll see if he’s finished his chores. Then he can come and help you.”

  She disappeared and Grant glanced back at me over his shoulder, holding a finger to his lips. I glared back. After a few moments, Haven appeared with his grandma close behind. His book bag was slung over one shoulder, and he looked relieved.

  “Make sure you call before you head back this way. And don’t be late, Haven.”

  She gave me a hard stare then shut the door and drove the lock home. Haven glanced between the two of us and motioned for us to go ahead. I went first, with Haven and Grant behind. The skin between my shoulders twitched, and I knew if I turned around she’d be staring from behind a curtain.

  “So why are you really here?”

  “Things are getting weird at our house,” Grant said. “And we need some help.”

  Haven seemed surprised. “I thought you had what you needed when you talked to me earlier.”

  “Things are different now. Trust me, I wouldn’t have bugged you otherwise.”

  He stopped, when we were in the thick of the woods between the houses. “What changed in the last three hours?”

  I turned. “There’s a problem wrong with Mom. She’s so focused on the house she can’t see anything else.”

  Haven rubbed the back of his neck, letting loose a long breath. “You did what I said?”

  Grant nodded.

  “And it didn’t work?”

  He looked at me. I spread my hands. “It feels like it started to, but then it stopped. I can’t tell you anything more.”

  Haven’s shoulders drooped. “Then we have a bigger problem. What I told you is the best I know. If it doesn’t work, there’s only one other person I know of who might know enough to help.”

  “Who is it? Let’s call them.” Grant pulled out his cell phone.

  My gaze connected with Haven’s, and I couldn’t quite identify what I saw there. “Bryan.”

  “No.” I crossed my arms. “There has to be someone else. Has to be.”

  Haven shook his head. “No, not unless you want to call Spirit Searchers in, and they’re only going to bring Bryan anyway. For a teenager, he’s got quite a reputation in the paranormal community.”

  I glanced at Grant, who stared at his phone like it would bite him. Dark circles hung under his eyes. The fatigue was wearing him down. I couldn’t let it continue.

  “Put your phone away, Grant.” I slid mine from my pocket. “I’ll call.”

  “We can do this without him.” Grant protested.

  “No, we can’t.” I dialed the number, and left a message on his voicemail. I wanted to mention the note, but I knew with Haven and Grant watching, it wouldn’t be a good idea. I’d talk to him about that another time. When I hung up, I looked at Haven. “Do me a favor.”

  He nodded.

  “Please come with us.” I looked away. “I’d like someone to act as a buffer besides Grant, if you don’t mind.”

  He reached out and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Of course.”

  Mom waited on the porch steps when we got to the house. Her brows rose when she saw my hand in Haven’s.

  “Who is this?”

  “Mom, this is Haven Elliott. He’s a friend of ours from school.”

  Haven extended his hand, but Mom stared at him coolly. “What exactly are you doing inviting a boy over when you know I’m on my way out?”

  “Mom!” My face heated at her slight. “He’s helping Grant with a project. Bryan will be coming over too, to help me with some homework.”

  Her face lit at the mention of Bryan’s name. “Of course, it’s fine. He’s such a nice boy.” The frown returned when she looked back at Haven, and I jumped up the stairs. “Aren’t you already late for work?”

  Mom blinked again, and nodded. “I wanted to tell you both how sorry I am about this afternoon. I didn’t mean to snap. This whole experience has been stressful for everyone and I’m afraid I took it out on you two.”


  We nodded in unison, and Mom wrapped an awkward arm around my shoulders, then headed for the car. Her gaze lingered a few moments on Haven. I couldn’t decipher the expression there, but it made me uncomfortable.

  “I don’t know what is going on with her.”

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I get that a lot.”

  “You shouldn’t,” I said. “Now come inside and we’ll make some dinner. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes. Please tell me whatever you’re fixing doesn’t include brussels sprouts or broccoli and my dreams will come true.”

  I made a face. “Ew. Of course not. How about salsa chicken and rice?”

  “Excellent.”

  A few minutes after I pulled the fixings for dinner from the cabinet, my cell phone began to ring. Bryan’s name scrolled across the screen, and I inhaled deeply before answering.

  “Hi, Bryan.”

  “So, first I’m not your friend and now you need my help?”

  I sighed. “You’re the one who decided to come over and be overbearing because you were jealous. Did you honestly expect it to go any differently?”

  There was a pause on the other end. “I suppose not.”

  Haven scowled at me, and I motioned to the pot he was supposed to be stirring.

  “I’m willing to overlook it, Bryan, if you can get over your jealous streak.” I swallowed past the sinking feeling in my gut. This was a bad idea, but we needed help and Bryan could provide it. “Besides, you wanted in my house. Here’s your shot.”

  “You know I meant well.”

  “Whether you did or not, it was a bad idea.”

  “Well, in any case, I’ll prove to you how sorry I am. What do you need help with?”

  “Protection for my brother from whatever is in the house.”

  I heard Bryan rustling and something falling on the other end of the phone.

  “I’ll be there in an hour. I think I’ve got everything we might need.”

  “Thanks, Bryan. I—” He’d already hung up. I pressed the end button on my phone and set it on the counter. “He’ll be here in an hour.”

  “Maybe this was a bad idea. I could have found someone else,” Haven said.