The Awakening: A Sisterhood of Spirits Novel

by Yvonne Heidt

  By the time they were done, three screens held twelve camera views, and fourteen recorders were feeding into command central.

  “It looks like we’re setting up for a small war. Sometimes I don’t know why we do all of this. It’s not as if we can’t tell them what’s going on without the electronics.” Tiffany tucked in an earpiece.

  “Hey!” Shade protested. “Don’t be dissing my toys.”

  “Dad always set up stuff like this for my mother before every walk-through. So many people didn’t believe them and they wanted some kind of proof. Something tangible to back up what my mother told them. And people who can’t see the other side will always believe what they see as scientific proof. I shudder to think what the three of us would have gone through back then.”

  Tiffany nodded. “Yeah, but your family has always had a psychic in each generation. My gift came from the devil himself. Just ask my mother.”

  “No, thanks,” said Shade. “I don’t know where mine came from either.”

  “True. Well, are we ready?”

  They held hands in a circle, completing a ring of mind, body, and spirit along with a representation of past, present, and future. Together, they formed a double trinity of power. Sunny silently asked her guides for protection and guidance for the night ahead.

  *

  Jordan peered through the banister on the second floor. The yellow glow of the small lamp on the desk gave Sunny a halo around her hair, and Jordan longed to touch it, to smooth the curly tresses between her fingers while she kissed her. Cup her face and tell her she loved her. Squeeze her throat until she begged for her life. What?

  Sunny and Tiffany headed to the stairs. Shade sat at the desk and slipped on her monster headphones. Jordan backed away on her knees, stood, and quietly headed for the back stairwell.

  “Hey, Sunny?” Shade called out. “Movement and shadow figure running on the second floor.”

  “Got it.” Sunny stood on the landing. “Go ahead and head to the fifth, Tiff. I’ll go to the second.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Start with an EVP session in the owner’s apartment. I’ll be there in a few.”

  Oh, shit. Jordan forgot the cameras. The metal door she was headed to would make too much noise in the silence. Think. Where could she hide? She felt along the wall and tried the first knob she came to. Thankfully, it turned and she entered quietly, praying the hinges wouldn’t squeak.

  Jordan dropped onto the dusty floor to peek under it. She could see the beam of Sunny’s small flashlight coming closer. Her heart raced loudly in her ears, making her wonder if it could be heard from the hall outside.

  She didn’t have a reason to hide anymore. There were no threats in the building. She’d checked it thoroughly, keeping one step ahead of the group. So why was she lying behind a closed door on a dirty floor?

  The light stopped and Jordan held her breath while she slowly got to her feet and pressed her back against the wall.

  The knob turned. What should she do? Continue to hide or scare the shit out of Sunny? Awkward.

  Jordan felt a sharp pain on her ass when she leaned against a protruding nail. “Ouch.” She froze, mortified that she hadn’t been able to stop the exclamation. The door swung open and the handle hit her in the stomach, forcing the air from her lungs.

  “Who’s there?” Sunny whispered.

  The jig was up; she was flat-out busted. “It’s me.”

  “What?”

  The beam of light hit Jordan directly in the face.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Protecting you?”

  They stared at each other. Jordan was the first to look away. Sunny sighed heavily and closed her eyes. “You followed me?”

  “It seemed like an excellent idea at the time.”

  “How did you get past security?”

  “I know one of the guards.” Jordan hesitated. “And I lied.”

  Sunny fought her amusement. She wanted to be angry, but Jordan was so cute standing there like a small child, shifting from foot to foot. She supposed the dirt that covered her was from hiding. “You stalked me to Seattle?”

  “Well, when you put it that way. Um, yes. Sunny?”

  “Yes?”

  “Could you shine the light back here? I think I stabbed myself in the ass on a nail.”

  “You’re hurt? Let me see?” Sunny set her recorder and camera on the floor before radioing Shade. “Mark the time on that shadow. It was Jordan.”

  “Come again?”

  “Jordan’s here.”

  The radio crackled and Tiffany snickered. “Guess you’ll be more than a few minutes.”

  “Stand by,” Sunny said, then clipped the radio back on her belt. “You,” she said to Jordan. “Hands in the air, up against the wall, and spread ’em.” She felt a surge of sexual power when Jordan turned slowly and placed her elbows and forearms against the wall.

  “It burns,” Jordan said.

  “I’ll bet.” Sunny stared at the hard buttocks in front of her and ran her hands against the denim. “There are no holes in your jeans. God, Jordan, is that a gun?”

  “Sorry.” Jordan pulled it out of her waistband and set it on the floor, pointing away from them, and turned back again.

  “Drop them.”

  Jordan looked over her shoulder. “What? Here?”

  Sunny chuckled. “I have to see.” The muscles in her thighs tingled when she heard Jordan unbuckle her belt and lower her pants a few inches. “Which side? Never mind, I see it.” Two angry red welts raised on the white skin about an inch apart. She moved the light behind the door to check the wall. Nothing stuck out. No screws or nails, no torn pipes. It was smooth. She looked back at the marks.

  “Poor baby,” Sunny said before blowing on them softly. The muscles in Jordan’s ass tensed, and Sunny put down the flashlight and held Jordan’s hips before kissing the welts. What was it about Jordan that had her lusting like a cat in heat every time she got near her?

  “Sunny! There’s a black mass outside the room you’re in, and it’s getting bigger. Get the hell out of there!” Shade’s voice shouted through the radio, instantly shattering the moment.

  “Later,” she whispered to Jordan. As soon as she stepped away from her, she felt calm and clear. She grabbed the radio and turned on her recorder. “Go.”

  “It’s still there. Get the fuck out.”

  Jordan fastened her belt and stood ready to open the door. “It’s freezing.”

  After putting the recorder in the camera bracket, Sunny filmed the temperature gauge quickly dropping. “Get the EMF detector out of my lower pocket.”

  Jordan held it out and Sunny pointed the camera at the needle rapidly spiking up and down, then into the red.

  “What is it?”

  “The ghost that pinched your ass.”

  Sunny turned and continued to scan the room, making notes of the readings.

  “Aw, come on.” Jordan could think of a dozen explanations, but would rather focus on the kiss.

  “What’s your name?” Sunny asked the space in front of them.

  Jordan strained her ears but didn’t hear anything. She felt sort of silly.

  “Why are you still here? Can you talk into the red light here on my recorder?”

  Jordan jumped when a soft knock came from the other side of the door. She grabbed Sunny’s radio. “Shade, who the fuck is outside this door?”

  “It’s gone now.”

  Jordan whipped the door open and turned on her flashlight. The hall was empty, and she was furious. Messing with somebody’s head like that was just fucked up. She raced to the lobby and stopped next to Shade. “What was that?”

  “Jordan, sit down.” Sunny came up from behind and put a hand on her shoulder. “Shade, please rewind the footage to show her.”

  “Tiff to base. Are you guys going to leave me up here all night?”

  Shade stood. “I’m on my way. Hang tight.” She bumped Jordan’s hip on her way aro
und the desk. Jordan opened her mouth to say something to her, but Sunny gently nudged her to the chair, working the mouse on one of the screens.

  “Watch,” she said.

  “But—”

  “Jordan. Please shut up.”

  She recognized that tone. It was the one Sunny used right before she cut to the bone with her one-line zingers and walked off. Jordan wanted to protest, she wanted to call bullshit, but she wanted Sunny to stay more than she wanted to argue. It took effort, but she kept quiet.

  Sunny pushed the Play button and watched the screen intently. “There.” She pointed. “See it?”

  Jordan didn’t see anything. “No.”

  “It’s right there!” Sunny was excited and rewound it again. “Watch closely. You’ll see this dark spot right here.” She tapped the screen. “It gets larger and starts to pulsate.”

  “I don’t see anything. No, wait. Are you talking about the blurry spot there?”

  “Yes! Look at it move. Look! You can see it walk away and go into the wall over there.” She blew up the frame and followed the figure with her fingernail.

  While Jordan tried to process what her eyes were telling her, a movement on another screen caught her attention. Shocked, she watched a silver pot in the kitchen shimmy sideways and fall off the shelf.

  Sunny danced in place, her voice high and excited. “Activity in the kitchen. We got it on tape!”

  She didn’t understand why Sunny sounded so glad about something so creepy. Jordan was freaked out. How could she fight something she couldn’t see? It wasn’t tangible. She couldn’t shoot it. “Why do you sound so happy about it?”

  “It’s for the client’s validation. More important, it’s proof. It’s something to be shown to skeptics who refuse to believe in the paranormal.”

  “Like me,” Jordan finished for her. “This isn’t normal, Sunny.”

  “Who gets to define normal? The government, who tells you only what they want you to know to keep you scared, and worse—compliant? Or how about the churches and the religious sects that shove their beliefs down other people’s throats, saying their way is the only way? Maybe it’s the mainstream scientists who refuse to open themselves to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, they’re wrong about some things and won’t even consider the endless clues that are right in front of their faces. You have to ask yourself—where do your beliefs about the world come from?”

  Jordan thought for a moment. She was tired of feeling wrong. But could she, just for a moment, let go of her rigid beliefs, or at least give them a rest? How would she even begin? Jordan closed her burning eyes and tried to take it in. Sunny’s cool hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into it.

  “Let me help you.”

  Jordan wanted her to, and she hoped like hell it wasn’t too late.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The radio squawked. “Shade to Sunny.”

  “Go.”

  “Could you come to the third floor, please? Now.”

  “On my way.” Sunny looked thoughtfully at Jordan. “Could you watch the monitors?” She really didn’t want to leave her alone but decided from where she stood, it was best for her. Especially since there was activity and she didn’t want to worry about how Jordan would react. She was working and her clients deserved her thoroughness.

  Jordan looked relieved and tilted the chair against the wall. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just watch them. If you see anything unusual, mark the time and camera number that shows in the corner and write it on the pad in front of you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you all right, Jordan?”

  “Fine, go ahead. I’ll play base.”

  Sunny was glad to see the attentive look on her face as she turned to her assigned job. “Here’s my radio.”

  “No, you need it.”

  “Shade and Tiff are upstairs. They each have one.” Jordan refused again. “Okay then. Yell really loud if you need me.” Sunny headed toward the stairs, taking care not to trip on any of the orange cords or construction supplies.

  Shade and Tiffany waited on the landing. “What’s happening?” Sunny asked.

  “Room three three three.”

  “Power number. What did you see?”

  “That’s just it,” Shade said. “Nothing. I can feel a wall of energy, but it’s weirdly blank. I can’t get any further.” She shrugged.

  “Tiff?”

  “Me too. I touched the wall and my hand is tingling like crazy, but it’s not showing me any history.”

  The air shifted around Sunny. “Temp?” She held her night vision camera and focused on the door. She twitched when the EMF detector started to squeal while Tiffany swept the hall with it and then steadied herself.

  “Sixty-seven and dropping,” said Shade. “Sixty-three, fifty-nine, fifty-two.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s big, bad, and powerful. EMF holding at four point two,” Tiffany said.

  “Okay. Ready?” Shade turned the knob and the door swung open.

  *

  Jordan watched the trio, noticing how fluidly they worked together, their movements appearing almost choreographed. She was reminded of the way cops went in on a raid. Sunny went high, Shade low, and Tiffany entered when the others were clear.

  Something rattled to her left and she took her eyes off the screen to look. When she glanced back, the hall was empty and she swore. “Damn it.” Now she wished she’d taken the radio. She studied the monitor. At least she would be able to see an intruder. A flesh-and-blood one, anyway. But even as she thought it, Jordan couldn’t find it as easy to dismiss the possibility of ghosts as she’d done in the past. Tendrils of doubt snaked their way through her, and it pissed her off that she could no longer ignore the possibilities. Her confidence slipped sideways to play with the sanity she lost.

  Sunny was beautiful and smart, and Jordan couldn’t make herself believe she was capable of any duplicity at all, and now that she’d seen this setup and the way Sunny appeared to be in her element with it, Jordan couldn’t convince herself it was any kind of scam. Jordan hated, really hated, to admit she was wrong. But once she saw the facts, she had to. She realized she was one of those people Sunny was talking about, the ones who needed to see electronic proof to believe. It made more sense now, and she focused again on the monitors in front of her.

  Movement on camera three, the kitchen again, caught her attention. A utensil swung independent of the others hanging on an overhead rack. Goose bumps raced over her arms, but she dutifully noted the time in the margin.

  Jordan was nervous. What were they doing up there? Was Sunny okay?

  A large crash in the area had Jordan leaping to her feet and pulling her gun in a fluid motion to hold it out in front of her as she swept the room. Why the hell did they have to keep it so dark? She couldn’t see a damn thing. She reached for her Mag light and braced it over her wrist before moving in the direction of the noise. It might be a ghost, but just in case, she wasn’t going to be caught by surprise.

  *

  “My batteries are dead again.”

  Shade reached into her cargo pocket and handed a pack to Tiffany.

  “Again? We’re going through them like water,” said Sunny. “Where’s your spares?”

  “I used them already when I was upstairs.”

  Sunny heard a high-pitched scream but couldn’t tell if it was only in her head or audible. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes,” Shade said. “But she’s still not showing herself.”

  Sunny turned the camera toward Tiffany, who wiped her palms against her jeans, then placed her palm on the wall and closed her eyes.

  “It’s vibrating a little, but I’m not getting any images.”

  “Okay,” said Sunny. “Why are you hiding from us? We’re not here to hurt you.” The red light on her camera signaled that her battery was going dead as well. “Damn it.” She quickly replaced it. “Are you draining all our power?” She already knew the answer. She was stal
ling until she could flip the camera on again. “Are you hurt?”

  “Sunny?” Shade interrupted.

  “What happened to you?”

  “Sunny. Look.”

  She spun with the camera. There, in the corner by the far nightstand, was an orb that held itself in place, pulsating in midair. She heard the clicking of Tiffany’s camera taking still shots. Sometimes, when they blew up the pictures, there were faces in the light. Though she could physically see the light energy, she had yet to get any psychic interaction.

  “Will you talk to me?” Sadness crushed down on Sunny’s shoulders before she heard the voice.

  Hurt.

  *

  Jordan heard another crash ahead of her. The sound was definitely coming from the basement area. Though the evidence of paranormal activity was becoming more valid, the cop in her didn’t want to dismiss the idea of an actual intruder. She kept her back close to the wall as she inched toward the stairs and descended slowly. The dank smell assaulted her and she tried not to breathe through her nose. Was it that bad when she was down here earlier? She was reminded of the dark alley she’d been shot in when she lay in the filth, bleeding to death, and the thought disoriented her for a second. Lynn’s cruel expression right before she pulled the trigger flashed before her eyes. The stab of betrayal and genuine hurt she’d felt an instant before the white-hot pain in her hip exploded. Lynn’s derisive tone while she dismissed her as garbage, unworthy and unwanted. Grab the money and the dope. Leave the trash here.

  Jordan blinked and found herself outside the boiler room. “No, I am not garbage!” she said to the memory.

  Go to your room, you whiny brat.

  Jordan could almost feel the pinch of her mother’s fingers dragging her to the room that she would lock her in while she sold herself to pay the bills and feed her voracious habit. Suddenly, she felt very small. She was three years old and terrified. Footsteps pounded down the hall, and Jordan slid down the wall and sat, unable to stop the vicious memories from assaulting her senses, dragging her into a past she thought she’d escaped.