The Awakening: A Sisterhood of Spirits Novel

by Yvonne Heidt

  “Tiffany. Take your hand off the wall, now.” Shade tried to stop her, but it was too late.

  “But—oh.”

  Jordan followed her voice with the camera and saw Tiffany bend over and start retching; Sunny came into the viewfinder as she hurried over to help.

  “What is it?” Jordan asked.

  “Murders,” Shade said grimly.

  “I’m sorry. Did you just say murders, as in plural?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know?”

  Shade looked at her, her eyes cold and empty through the little camera window. “I can see them.”

  “Tiffany, honey, do you want to leave?” Sunny helped her take off the backpack and removed her own so she could sit with her. “We can go if you need to.”

  “No, this is important.” Tiffany closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. “Let’s get on with it. And I’m going to want a really strong drink when this is over.”

  Sunny was proud of Tiffany. She hadn’t always been able to face her fears. She felt some apprehension of her own but cut it off. She’d never had any problems with investigations or spirits attacking her until recently. She ground her teeth against the doubt and forced herself to let it go completely. “Shade?”

  The metal click of a lighter sounded incredibly loud in the silence, but she welcomed the small light as Shade lit three white candles and settled across from them. “Jordan?”

  “What are we doing?”

  “Here, sit down, please. We’re going to attempt to find out what happened here.”

  “What about the camera?”

  “We have one in the corner over there that we set up earlier.” Sunny felt other tap the top of her head. “But you can still film from here if you like.”

  Once Jordan settled next to her, Sunny welcomed the warmth of her legs alongside her own. “Once we start, keep still, okay?”

  “All right.”

  “And no screaming,” Shade said.

  Jordan snorted. “As if. What are we going to do, solve a hundred-year-old massacre?”

  Sunny heard the sarcasm in her voice but told herself it would take baby steps. At least Jordan hadn’t run or completely shut out the possibilities.

  “Not old,” Tiffany said. “Recent. I can tell by the way they’re dressed.”

  Jordan’s leg stiffened and Sunny knew that the answer poked at her cop’s instincts. Okay, she thought, time to go to work. “We know you’re here. Can you tell us why?” Silence thundered in her ears before she heard a faint murmuring. It was too low; she was finding it difficult to decipher what they were saying. “Something is holding them back, keeping them from talking to me.”

  “Them?” Jordan twitched again.

  Shade rested her hands on her knees and closed her eyes. Her features looked serene, but Sunny knew that inside, she was bracing herself to wrestle with whatever bad entity was here. It was her gift, the ability to physically interact on the spiritual plane. She would find and attempt to distract and hold back the entity that was interfering and blocking the other spirits from communicating with Sunny.

  Sunny knew when Shade connected with the entity because the candlelight flickered, and shadows danced along the walls in the windowless room. She reached into her own bag for her lighter, just in case, and handed it to Jordan. “Light them again if they go out.” Jordan’s eyes were wide with surprise, but she looked more curious than truly afraid. Good.

  Sunny felt a trace of the psychic barrier between them slip to the side, and a trace of Jordan’s emotions slipped out and over to Sunny. Her heart lightened. Having Jordan’s confidence and trust, rather than her fear and skepticism, would help tremendously.

  “Got him,” Shade snarled. “Asshole.”

  Three separate spirits, two female and one male, rushed forward, all talking very fast and bombarding Sunny with their stories. “One at a time.”

  “Could you give us a sign for the recorders, please?” Tiffany asked. “How many are here with us?”

  Three distinct knocks sounded from the wall behind Sunny. Jordan’s body jerked, but to her credit, she didn’t say anything. “Thank you. If you can, or want to, you can also talk to the red light in front of me.”

  An image of a young girl began to take form behind her eyes. “Okay,” Sunny said. “She’s young. Sixteen, seventeen? Blond hair, blue eyes. Seventeen, she says. The letter B. Barbie? Really? Is that your given name? She’s nodding.”

  “I see her now,” Tiffany said. “Blue shirt and short black skirt that she’s wearing with cowboy boots.”

  “Hold it there. Two more are coming forward. One is a young man, and the other is jumping up and down, waving her arms in the air. It’s okay. We’re going to talk to all of you.”

  “Three?” Jordan asked.

  “Yes. And I hear the name Ray, very clearly. He’s indicating that he’s the same age as the girl next to him. Is that correct? And that they knew each other in life.” Sunny paused. “Tiffany?”

  “He’s about five foot seven maybe, wearing ripped jeans and some kind of mesh tank top.”

  “Christ!” Jordan said.

  “What?”

  “Something just poked me in the shoulder.”

  There was an audible sigh from the center of the circle followed by a fierce growling. “Not today, prick,” Shade said. “You have no power here tonight.”

  “Sunny? What’s going on?”

  “Um, Jordan? I don’t want to scare you, but the third spirit is right next to you. She seems very excited to see you.”

  Jordan’s head ached. There was something nagging at her, like she should be remembering something important. This whole night had been surreal, to say the least. Maybe she’d lost her mind after all and she’d be waking up in the hospital and finding that the last eighteen months had all been a dream or illusion while she was in a coma.

  Sunny’s arm draped over her shoulders. No, thought Jordan, she wasn’t crazy. Sunny’s warmth surrounded her, and Jordan’s jitters let up slightly. What had Sunny just said to her? She laughed nervously. “I’m sorry. I thought I just heard you say that this ghost knows me.”

  “I did.”

  “Crap, it’s not my mother again, is it?”

  “Nope.”

  The hair on her body prickled, chilling her, and Jordan swallowed. If she could handle perps with guns, she could handle this paranormal shit, right? “Okay.” She winced when she heard her voice crack.

  “Ready?” asked Sunny. “This girl says she knows you. She’s showing me the image of you in your uniform. She’s, uh, very attracted to you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “She’s very attractive, but young. She’s jealous of me,” Sunny said. “And she says you had lousy taste in your previous relationships.”

  “Who is it?” And how bizarre could this be, being chastised by a ghost?

  “Okay, sorry. I’ll ask. Sometimes they don’t always answer. Oh no, no, honey, don’t cry. She saying she’s cold, so cold. She’s confused now. Could you help us with your name, sweetie?”

  Sunny called to Shade. “She’s really scared. I can’t get a clear image of her, and she keeps fading in and out.”

  Shade’s eyebrows drew together in concentration. “He’s snapping at me. He doesn’t want her to talk, especially her, because she’s the favorite.” She paused. “It’s okay. He’s not as strong as he thinks he is. I’m not even breaking a sweat over here.”

  Footsteps shuffled along the cement corridor. Shade chuckled. “He’s thinking he’s going to distract me enough to let go.”

  “What is Shade doing? What does she mean by that?”

  Kill the fucking cop. The voice that bellowed out of Shade’s throat was not her own. It was a deep, raucous sound that chilled her to the bone.

  “What did you just say?”

  “Oooh, Jordan.” Shade’s voice returned. “He does not like you.”

  “Enough!” Jordan snapped. “What the fuck is going on?�
�� She tried grappling with all the vague half explanations she was being given, and her instincts were screaming that she was missing something. The nasty comment did manage to pierce her confusion. Jordan switched to logic, looking for facts now instead of innuendo.

  “Don’t let him get a rise out of you, Jordan,” Sunny said. “It’s what he wants.”

  “Who—it—what—wants? Can’t we cut to the chase here?”

  “If you can calm down, I’ll try and find out,” Sunny said under her breath. “See? Now the spirits are upset. They’re all chattering at once again and giving me a headache.” She held a hand to her forehead. “Shh.”

  A gust of wind blew out the candles, and Jordan heard Tiffany’s sharp intake of breath. She ignored the chill between her shoulder blades and relit them. She’d felt goose bumps so many times tonight she was getting used to them.

  “Right, okay,” Sunny said. “The younger one is coming forward again.”

  Jordan tried to relax the stiffness in her body, but her mind was racing. Still, she had the feeling she was missing something vital, a crucial, essential clue that kept slipping away before she could grasp it. Jordan waited for Sunny to continue, though she was sorry when she took her arm back and shifted on the cement to get more comfortable.

  “She’s losing energy. We only have a few minutes. From what she’s showing me, she has straight brown hair, brown eyes, and—”

  “But that’s not what I see,” Tiffany interrupted. “I see very short dark hair, dyed jet-black, and lots of piercings. Ouch, didn’t those hurt?”

  Jordan’s heart skipped a beat and something clicked. Was this for real or some kind of cruel joke? “What is she wearing?” She tried to keep her anger in check while she pulled up the mental file from her memory.

  “Some kind of short dress, with a long zipper up the front, torn stockings, and knee-high boots, you know, the clunky kind?”

  “She’s showing me the letter G, then a star. Come on, sweetheart, give me a little more here. Gina? Or Star?” Sunny asked.

  “Both,” Jordan said. The flames leaned sideways and Jordan jumped to her feet. “That’s impossible!” she yelled. “Did you read my files?”

  “Either sit down or go back upstairs, Jordan,” Sunny said quietly. “This isn’t about you. It’s about these three kids. I don’t have the time or energy to fight with you right now.”

  Sunny cut off her own anger at Jordan’s outburst to keep from feeding the negative entity that Shade was holding on to in the astral plane. But she knew that Jordan’s explosive reaction fed it a great deal of power, and she knew she was right when Shade swore and slumped forward.

  “I tried to hold him, but he slipped out.”

  “Are you okay?” Sunny went to Shade and felt the muscles in her back tremble slightly. Tiffany crawled over and laid her hands next to Sunny’s. In a matter of seconds, Sunny felt the shaking subside, then stop.

  Jordan stood a few feet away with her back against the wall. They all jumped when a door slammed violently down the hall.

  Shade gained her feet and grabbed a camera and recorder. Tiffany turned on her flashlight and followed, blowing the candles out on her way. “Let’s go see what that was.” The two of them turned right out of the doorway, and the light in the room faded as they moved further away, leaving Sunny to deal with Jordan.

  She was still trying not to be angry with her. She loved everything about her, except this one thing. But the one thing was so important, she might have to walk away after all. “Jordan,” she began in a calm voice.

  “No. God, Sunny. I’m so sorry. It was reflex.”

  Well, now, she wasn’t expecting to hear that, and she understood that the habits of a lifetime were hard to break. Jordan’s voice was sincere in the dark, even if she choked on the apology. She got the feeling that Jordan didn’t do it very often, and it must have cost her something. She tried talking again. “Nobody read your files, Jordan.”

  “I’m trying here, Sunny. But you don’t understand. These kids you’re describing are the missing street kids I told you about. I could recite in my sleep what they were all wearing the last time they were seen. I looked for them for months, but it’s as if they disappeared off the face of the earth. And to sit here and hear those details while I’m sitting in the dark during some kind of psychic orgy, well, it threw me off.”

  “Psychic orgy? Should I be insulted?”

  “No, it just slipped out. I’m only digging myself deeper here.”

  “They all died here,” Sunny said softly. “The murderer is dead as well. That’s the entity that Shade was fighting.”

  “Who is it? Was it?” she corrected herself.

  “I don’t know. They’re gone. They disappeared when Shade lost her hold on the murderer.” Sunny felt Jordan’s tentative hand touch her shoulder.

  “Again, I’m sorry, really. Beliefs don’t change overnight, do they? Can we do it again? I’ll be quiet this time.”

  “I don’t think we have it in us to repeat this tonight.” When Jordan’s arms came around her, they were gentle and comforting, and Sunny let herself melt into the embrace for a moment. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

  Jordan let go of her and dropped her arms to her sides. She reminded herself that Jordan’s awakening would take time. Sunny had never been in that position, but she respected the honesty and emotional effort Jordan had just shown her. She understood how hard that would be for someone as rigid as Jordan. “Everything is fine. Let’s go help the others.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jordan had just taken Sunny’s hand to lead her into the hall when another scream pierced the darkness.

  “Tiffany.” Sunny ran down the hall. Jordan turned on her flashlight and chased her, but she filled with dread when she saw the door to the boiler room standing open.

  How could her experience in that room when she’d arrived have slipped from her mind for even a second? In that instant, Jordan understood the power of denial. How a mind could build barriers to see only what it chose to, regardless of the evidence. There was power in admitting she couldn’t control or explain everything. There was freedom in that understanding. Her legs felt weak and she sat next to Tiffany in the dank room.

  “Why did you scream?” Sunny asked.

  “Sorry, guys. I don’t usually fall apart like this all the time,” she said to Jordan. “But the energy in this building is so damn strong, it’s keeping me off balance.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jordan mumbled.

  “I saw him.”

  “Who?” Sunny asked.

  “The man who murdered those kids.”

  “Where?” Jordan looked around the room.

  “Here.” Tiffany pointed to her forehead.

  Jordan was dizzy but curious. “Do you all see him the same?”

  “No,” they answered in unison.

  “Then how do you know which is real?”

  “I’ll go,” Shade said. “Sunny sees spirits the way they want to be seen. Tiffany perceives them as they actually were.”

  “And you?” asked Jordan.

  “I see them how they looked at the moment of death.”

  Jordan let that sink in. Shade’s whole personality made more sense to her. “So you’re all correct in one way or another.”

  “Yes.”

  Jordan’s analytical mind raced. How come the department didn’t use people who had these abilities to solve more crimes?

  “Because they see like you,” Shade said.

  “And you can read minds.”

  Shade smirked. “Most of the time, but not always. But you’re wide open right now.”

  “Tiffany? Is the recorder running?” Sunny asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Describe him, please.” Sunny searched for the presence of other, but whoever he was, he couldn’t or wouldn’t show himself. She knew Tiffany was picking up the residual imprint.

  “He’s creepy.” Tiffany shuddered. “Tall, skinny, stringy hair, bad comp
lexion. He’s wearing a stained gray sweatshirt, black cargo pants. He’s muttering to himself and laughing. Oh, the stains are blood, I think, but I don’t think it’s his. He’s fumbling with something behind the furnace.” Tiffany paused and tilted her head to the left. “Gross! Pervert.” She pulled her hand off the wall. “Eww.”

  “Shade,” Sunny called. “Do you see anything?”

  “No, and I doubt I will. He was pretty shocked that I was able to hold him. He’s afraid of me.”

  “How did you do that?” Jordan asked.

  “We’ll explain that later.” Sunny stood and inched her way to the furnace in the corner.

  “He’s taking off the sweatshirt and trying to clean himself up.”

  “Is all of this what you call residual?”

  “Yes.”

  “So it can’t hurt anyone?”

  “Not when it’s place memory.”

  “Jordan, could you shine your light over here? Your flashlight has more power than mine.”

  “Okay,” Tiffany continued. “He’s pulling something out of a bag. It looks like a red shirt and some kind of baseball hat.”

  Something clicked in Jordan’s memory, and her blood turned to ice in her veins. She turned the beam into Tiffany’s face.

  “Hey! You’re blinding me.”

  “Sorry.” Jordan immediately lowered her arm. “Tiffany, this is really important. Can you see what color shoes he’s wearing?”

  “They’re really dirty. I can’t tell. No, wait. Really, dude? They’re some kind of weird neon turquoise? I think.”

  Jordan felt a sense of foreboding, and she pulled the memory closer. Could it really be true? No one here could have known the color of that man’s shoes. What were the odds?

  “Jordan?” Sunny lay a hand on her arm. “What is it?”

  “Just a second. I need to hear what else he does.”

  “He’s digging something up from behind there.” She pointed. “One of those green army duffel bags. You know the kind?”

  Yes, she did. And she knew what was in it. “Can you see any patches or identifying marks?”