Of The Ashes: A 'So Fell The Sparrow' Sequel Novella

by Katie Jennings

  Jackie sat back in her chair and sighed, stirring her steaming cup of tea. Grace swallowed back the guilt she felt over barking at her friend and focused instead on eating.

  Ian arrived at the table with a plate stacked high with hash browns, eggs, and sausage, and sat beside Grace. He offered Jackie and Alex a polite smile.

  “I figure we’ll do a few interviews this morning, get some more B-roll footage of the house, then come back here by one o’clock or so to get some sleep before the investigation tonight.”

  Alex toasted with his glass of orange juice. “Sounds like a plan, Chief.”

  “That okay with you two?” Ian asked Jackie and Grace.

  Jackie nodded, and Grace continued to push her food around on her plate.

  “Whatever,” she replied, wincing at the petulant sound of her own voice.

  For the rest of the meal, Ian ignored her. Thankfully, Jackie didn’t bother her again about Mia, and Alex had plenty to discuss with Ian to keep them both occupied on the drive over to The Abby Ford House.

  As they parked outside, clouds rolled in from the sea, rumbling with thunder.

  Jackie stared up at the sky as large droplets of water began to fall. She shielded her face, her gaze lowering to the house itself.

  Grace nudged her with an elbow. “Let’s get inside before it starts pouring.”

  She tugged on Jackie’s arm, urging her friend to follow her. Ian and Alex gathered bags of equipment from the van, then joined them inside the parlor.

  Barton was there to greet them, extending his hand to each of theirs in turn. “Welcome back. Everyone’s here to talk to you.”

  Grace blew out a long breath, rubbing her arms to ward off the chill she felt once inside the house. Already she could sense the darkness creeping all around her, bringing on a claustrophobic sensation.

  She steeled herself against it, not willing to give in to the fear. If Mia James could handle the presence of dark spirits, then, damnit, so could she.

  * * *

  “So, Nancy, you’re the head housekeeper here at the bed and breakfast?” Ian asked the slim, middle-aged blonde woman standing before him in the upstairs hallway on the third floor of The Abby Ford House. Alex stood a few feet away, filming the interview.

  “Since 1990,” Nancy explained, shifting her weight from side to side, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her. It was clear just being in the house unnerved her. “It’s a wonderful house, so much history. Some people claimed to feel spirits here before but I never did. Whatever was here back then was friendly enough to leave most of us alone.”

  “But that all changed recently?” Ian probed, disturbed by the woman’s restless fear. Most of the people he had interviewed in the past were excited about what they had experienced or maybe a little skeptical, but the people at The Abby Ford House were downright terrorized.

  She gave a curt nod. “I first noticed it about a month ago. Everyone here was acting strangely. We normally get along so well, but suddenly we were arguing day and night. Alice—that’s the cook—she and I are best friends, have been for nearly twenty years. Our children used to play together. Well, the night she got hurt, she accused me of having an affair with her husband and almost threw the knife at my face.”

  Ian’s eyes widened. “She threatened to hurt you?”

  “Yes, right before she stabbed the knife into her own hand instead.”

  Ian shot a horrified look at Alex before continuing. “You witnessed her stab herself?”

  “Yes,” Nancy said, tears filling her eyes. “She wasn’t herself in that moment. I don’t know what had gotten a hold of her, but she wasn’t in her right mind…”

  “And the doctors said there wasn’t anything wrong with her…mentally?”

  Nancy shook her head. “Nothing. She quit the next day and, honestly, I don’t blame her. Ever since she got out of the house she’s been completely normal. She even apologized to me for what she said, although it wasn’t necessary. I believed her when she said she hadn’t acted of her own free will.”

  “What do you think was controlling her?”

  Nancy bit her lower lip. “I’m not sure. An evil spirit, maybe?”

  “What else have you seen in the house?”

  “Well, nearly every day I see a tall, dark shadow figure out of the corner of my eye. It seems to follow me around the house while I clean. And I’ve also heard a little girl crying clear as day when I’m all alone.”

  Ian rocked back on his heels, itching to break out his digital recorder to see if he could catch the little girl’s voice, too. “It’s common for evil spirits to mimic something more innocent in the hopes of catching our attention,” he told her. “More likely than not, what you heard wasn’t the spirit of a little girl at all, but of something much more sinister.”

  Nancy shuddered. “I don’t doubt that. Not for one minute.”

  They wrapped up the interview, and Ian approached Alex as his partner began setting up a static night vision camera in one of the bedrooms where witnesses experienced activity.

  Ian leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “Tell me straight—am I an idiot for letting Mia join us for the investigation tonight?”

  Alex secured the tripod and gave a noncommittal grunt. “I don’t know, man. Is Grace upset about it?”

  “Yeah, she thinks Mia’s too flirtatious,” Ian replied, studying his boots grumpily. “That asshole ex-boyfriend of hers cheated on her, so I get it. But I can’t help but feel like Grace is overreacting about the whole thing. Mia’s a great investigator. She and her team are an asset we would be stupid not to take advantage of.”

  “Well, you know how girls are. They get territorial,” Alex reminded him as he hooked up the camera and focused the lens. “If I were you, I’d do all I could to remind Grace that she’s the one you want to be with. Then be as platonic as possible with Mia so Grace won’t have any reason to doubt.” He paused, meeting Ian’s eyes. “That is, if Grace is the one you still want?”

  “Yeah, she is.” Ian let out a hard laugh. “I asked her to marry me a few days ago.”

  Alex’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

  Ian couldn’t help the rush of pain and anger that flowed through him at the memory. “She said no.”

  For a moment, Alex didn’t seem to know what to say. He dropped down onto the bed nearby, running a hand along the back of his neck. “Shit, man. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Ian shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. She said she’s not ready. She also said she feels like she’s losing herself these days…”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Alex demanded.

  “I think part of her misses her old life.” Sympathy for her warred with the frustration in his heart. “I guess all her old friends make fun of her for being with me.”

  “Why would they make fun of her for that?”

  Ian laughed, though there was little humor in it. “We hunt ghosts for a living, Alex. Most people think that’s pretty stupid.”

  “Well, screw most people,” Alex retorted, rising from the bed. He rested a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “If Grace is feeling lost, then I say we do all we can to help her. You love her, right? I know you do.”

  “Christ, yeah,” Ian managed. “She drives me crazy, but I can’t imagine life without her.”

  Alex grinned. “Good. Then go find her, take her back to the hotel, and prove it to her.”

  Ian nodded, patting his friend on the shoulder. “All right. I will.”

  * * *

  Jackie wandered downstairs, her fingertips trailing along the floral-patterned wallpaper. Her eyes closed as she absorbed the energy vibrating within The Abby Ford House—some of it innocent and afraid, the rest of it brutally evil. It raised the hairs on her arms with an icy chill, and she knew that, whatever it was, it wanted her to be aware of it.

  Yet, it still hid from her. That was the most frustrating part. If the spirit would manifest, would show itself, then she could diagnose the true
nature of what they faced. Instead, it kept just out of reach. A shadow, tall and menacing, loomed around every corner but would disappear before she could focus her sight on it.

  She proceeded upstairs, hoping to follow it. It lured her to the third floor, where, in one of the rooms, Alex and Ian were busy setting up equipment. She passed by them without a word, more in tune with the spiritual world than her own at that moment. When she came upon the last bedroom on the right, she felt a tug, a sort of mental push, guiding her along and into the room.

  It looked just like the others—a queen size bed covered in a blue and white patchwork quilt, traditional mahogany furniture with brass knobs, oil paintings of lovely women in 18th century gowns. There was nothing strange about it, but somehow, she knew this was the site of whatever was causing the haunting in The Abby Ford House.

  A wave of nausea hit her then, and her vision blurred and went black. As if in a dream, she saw a woman sitting cross-legged in that very room, a Ouija board spread out before her. The woman was middle-aged, with caramel-colored skin and strained, honey-brown eyes. Black hair peppered with gray fell in tight curls about her face. Her entire body shook with anticipation as she placed the planchette on the board. Candles were lit all around her, casting a yellow-orange glow about the room. The light flickered across the woman’s face, creating hollows of her eye sockets and highlighting the age lines around her tense mouth. She murmured something under her breath, something unintelligible, as she waited.

  The planchette moved suddenly, shooting across the board in a rainbow arch. It went back and forth, back and forth, in rapid succession, going from one letter to another. Soon it narrowed in on just two letters and continued to alternate between them.

  Darkness swallowed the room and hid the woman from view. Her scream rang out into the abyss, the sound one of pure terror.

  Jackie came back to consciousness to find someone shaking her. Alex’s face swam into view, fear tightening his expression.

  “You’re okay, baby. I’m here,” he was saying, though his voice sounded tinny and distant. She attempted to move, only to have him ease her back against the bed. “Relax, now. You’re safe.”

  Her brows furrowed as she closed her eyes again. Of course she was safe—she’d never felt unsafe. Had she?

  “Is everything okay?” Grace’s worried voice broke the haze. “I heard screaming.”

  “She’s fine. I think,” came Ian’s reply. He sounded just as concerned. “Maybe you should take her back to the hotel, Alex.”

  Jackie forced her eyes open, needing to speak for herself. “No, I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure? What happened?” Grace demanded.

  “I think she had another premonition,” Alex explained. “She’s been having nightmares lately about this place. She’s woken up screaming the last few nights.”

  Jackie managed to sit up, feeling more stable. Alex hovered a few inches away, but didn’t stop her. “It was a vision. There was a woman in this room, I’m not sure how long ago. She used a Ouija board.”

  “Christ,” Ian muttered, rubbing his face. “Well, that could be the source of the problem. People are just asking for trouble when they use those things.”

  “You think some random woman playing with a Ouija board brought an evil spirit into the house?” Alex asked.

  “It would make sense,” Ian confirmed.

  “Wait, a Ouija board? Really?” Grace sputtered in disbelief. “Those things can actually summon spirits?”

  Ian nodded. “They can be very dangerous, actually. Stupid as it sounds. It’s not just an innocent board game mass-produced by Parker Brothers.”

  Grace chewed on her lower lip, her worried eyes landing upon Jackie. “If that’s what happened, then what do we do about it?”

  Jackie sighed, resting her head back against the pillows. “I’m not sure. We can try a cleansing ritual.”

  “Couldn’t hurt,” Alex agreed.

  Jackie had doubts that a cleansing ritual would be enough to stop whatever it was that had come through the Ouija board and into the house.

  What they needed was divine intervention.

  * * *

  After finishing the last of the interviews, they returned to the hotel to get some sleep before the investigation. They parted ways in the hall, Alex and Jackie to their room, and Ian and Grace to theirs.

  Once inside the room, Grace shrugged out of her coat and tossed it on the chair beside the bed. She set her purse down with it, then turned to find Ian watching her.

  Pride had her crossing her arms, while inside all she wanted was to go to him. To hold him close, to tell him she was sorry.

  “Are you willing to sleep beside me now?” she asked, unable to hide the pain his leaving the night before had caused her.

  Ian held her gaze as his hands slipped into his pockets. He rocked back on his heels restlessly. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Grace. I’m done.”

  Her heart froze to ice at his words. He had a look of finality on his face, and true fear settled over her. Had she finally done it? Had she driven him away? “Done?”

  He gave a slow nod and approached her. “I think it’s time we start being honest with each other. It seems neither of us are really sure where we stand right now.”

  “You first, then,” she murmured, her heart breaking even as she said it. She wished for the courage to ask him to forgive her for refusing his proposal. Wished healing words came as easily as hurtful ones.

  But, in truth, she was riddled with cowardice. It was what made her balk at the thought of marrying him, made her miss the familiar safety of her old life even though she knew it was unattainable, and it was what drove her to jealousy when it came to accepting his past.

  He had a full, beautiful life, with a wonderful family and loyal friends. By comparison, she had nothing.

  All she had was him.

  A tear fell down her cheek as he came closer. He framed her face in his hands and studied her, concern darkening his eyes.

  “I want you, Grace,” he told her, brushing away the tear with his thumb. “I won’t lie and say you turning down my proposal didn’t hurt, but it didn’t make me stop loving you. And it certainly doesn’t make me want to run off with Mia, if for some reason you thought I did.”

  A sob built within her throat, then escaped on a watery laugh. She closed her eyes, cherishing the feel of his hands on her skin, of his body close to hers.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, burying her face in his chest. She grasped his t-shirt, the tears falling freely now. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

  “You’re not a mess. You’re human,” he explained, holding her close. He caressed her back, soothing her. “The most frustrating human I’ve ever met, but still human.”

  Grace laughed again. “I’m scared of being hurt again.”

  “Then trust me when I say I won’t hurt you,” he urged her, kissing her forehead. “I may get pissed off at you from time to time, but it’s going to take a lot more than that to chase me away.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  Compassion smoothed the lines of his face. “Grace, haven’t I proven it to you?”

  Her eyes searched his. “I suppose you have. Maybe it’s time I gave you the same consideration.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, her mouth finding his. He gripped her tightly against him, overtaken by the mad rush of emotional energy. Her heart faltered and skipped when he lifted her by the hips and brought her to the bed, lowering her down upon it. She spread out and he covered her body with his own.

  Her lips trailed across his face. “I want you, Ian,” she murmured, her entire system humming with love and desire. “Only you.”

  He kissed her again, slow and deep, and she savored every moment. He unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it aside, then ran his hands along her sides, sending shivers down her spine. She pulled off his shirt and kissed the smooth skin of his tattooed shoulder an
d the curve of his neck.

  He tugged off her jeans and his own, laying her bare and exposed. She ached for him deep within, her heart on fire as it raced inside her chest. His gaze met hers as he slipped inside her, and she welcomed him openly, eagerly.

  She exhaled a long, overdue breath of relief, her eyes closing in ecstasy as he began to move, taking her with a slow and steady passion. The tenderness he gave mirrored her own as she brushed her fingers back into his length of dark hair, lost in the cool scent of his cologne that she associated with home. She belonged to him fully, and had since the chaotic and earth-shattering days of their time at The Sparrow House.

  It had been there all along. He had been there. Her lighthouse in the stormy, raging sea that was her life, always there to guide her home.

  The heat built low within, guided to life by every smooth thrust of his hips. When he whispered her name, over and over again, she felt the warmth rise up and consume her, crashing like a wave over sparkling summer sand.

  She cried out, stunned breathless by it. Ian brought her mouth back to his, just as lost in the moment, just as helpless. When their eyes met she watched the pleasure overtake him, felt it shudder through his body seconds before he collapsed over her. He rested his forehead against hers, fighting to catch his breath.

  She lovingly caressed his face, a contented smile curving her lips. “Get some sleep. You have a big night ahead of you.”

  He nodded, rolling over to lay beside her. He pulled her against him, curving his body around hers. Their arms and legs entwined, and she could feel the rapid pace of his heartbeat slowing its rhythm against her back.

  “I love you,” he said tiredly, nuzzling the back of her neck.

  “I love you, too,” she replied, her fingers linking with his. Within moments, she tumbled into a deep, dreamless sleep, safely at home in his embrace.

  * * *

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A few doors down, Jackie tossed and turned, plagued by nightmares. In them she ran through The Abby Ford House, which was strangely empty and dark as night. Several times she turned a corner, only to find herself blocked by a wall or teetering over the edge of a black, bottomless pit. Something chased her, something that burned with an energy more wicked than any she had ever known.