“Logan…” Kacie pulls on my arm while pointing at Tracy’s prone form. “I’ve never seen, I mean, she can’t…”
“Her spirit would’ve disappeared if she was destroyed.” I try to struggle to my feet but give up, sagging back down. Kacie leans against me, and I wrap my arms around her.
Blake eyes us. “You two are not okay.”
“When Tracy forced the barrier, she released a lot of psychic energy,” I say, resting my cheek on Kacie’s head.
“It drained all of us, not just her,” Kacie adds.
“I feel fine,” Blake says stretching his arms over his head.
“Yeah, why is that?” I ask, unable to hide the genuine surprise from my voice.
“Rebecca will be thrilled,” Kacie says.
Blake raises his brows. “Why, she like stamina?”
Kacie giggles. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Blake. She likes researching puzzles.”
“Oh, no. I ain’t no one’s guinea pig.”
Tracy’s spirit releases a soft sigh, like a light exhale of breath… if ghosts could breathe. She floats to her feet as though controlled by invisible strings. Still solid, her dark eyes scan the room. A smile crosses her face when she realizes that she made it through the psychic barrier. All I can do is stare at the ghost and wonder what that mysterious smile means. Maybe she’s as drained as we are. Kacie squeezes my hand, her aura flickering from exhaustion. I meet her gaze. Evade and stall for time to recover—I try to send the message to her in my expression.
“Now that you’re in here, love,” Blake says, gesturing at the room. “Care to share why you wanted in so bad?”
Tracy blushes at Blake’s obvious flirting. I had no idea a spirit could blush, even one who appears as human as she does. I mean, it takes blood to blush, right. More manipulation? She glides to one of the beds and reaches out to it. Her hand goes straight through. When she tries again, she lets out a frustrated growl as her hand once again passes through the mattress.
“I can’t touch anything?” she says, her words sounding more like a question than a statement.
One moment she’s by the bed and the next she appears inches from Blake’s face. He doesn’t flinch, which I have to admit is rather impressive. I’m pretty sure even I’d have reacted to her sudden appearance.
“Are you really a werewolf?” she asks, leaning so close they’d touch were she human.
“Yep.” Blake manages a blank face as the ghost circles him.
“Shift for me.”
“It ain’t a full moon, love,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. I’m well aware that Blake can shift whenever he wants. He’s a born alpha werewolf, not a bite victim. Blake’s features take on a look of complete innocence. Damn but he can rival Kacie and Daniel in the acting department. “Why’re you deflecting attention from that bed? What’s under that mattress?”
“Nothing,” she says, backing away, shaking her head furiously.
“Now we both know that ain’t the truth.” Blake saunters over to the bed and lifts the mattress.
“No!”
“Now what have we here?” Blake tosses a small book to me.
I open the book and flip through the pages. “It’s a journal.”
“It’s mine!” Tracy howls, making a grab for the book. But her hand passes through. She may have enough power left to look almost human, but not enough to manipulate physical objects.
Kacie takes the book, hugging it to her chest. “This is very private, but it could also be what’s keeping you from moving on.”
Tracy’s form flickers and sinks to the floor. She returns to an ethereal, misty spirit, and I can’t help but notice how much lighter she is now than before. Swirling white and light gray misty energy compose her figure, a sure sign that she’s close to acceptance of her fate.
“I’ll talk, but just to you,” she says, pointing at Kacie.
“No,” I say, unwilling to leave Kacie alone with this dangerous adversary.
“Of course,” Kacie says, directing a glare at me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Truth
KACIE
The boys follow Mr. Kincaid to the stairs but not without a lot of grumbling. Once they’ve disappeared from sight, I glance back at Tracy. She sighs, and her ghostly shoulders slump.
“That journal…” She trails off as tears fall from her eyes. She sniffs. “I-I… I reveal my relationship with Jeffrey in there.”
“Jeffrey?”
“Associate Professor Jeffrey Rosenthal,” she says, staring at the ground.
“The guy who ki—” I stop short before saying killed you.
“Yes. The man who murdered me.”
I stare at her, in shock. “I don’t know what to say.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling or crying or… I don’t know. What she said, I just don’t know how to process it. I’m in way over my head here. And yet, I’m the only one who can help her. What do I say? I must wait too long to speak, or she can see the shock and aversion on my face.
“Aren’t you going to say anything? Tell me how awful I am?”
“I don’t know your story, and even if I did, it’s not my place to judge.” I lean against the bed, letting my head fall back against it. “One thing I do know. It seems that the professor may have had the psychic power of persuasion.”
“What do you mean?” Her face fills with hope. It makes my stomach turn.
“I know someone who can manipulate her voice to convince people to do or think things.” The image of Dr. Hayes fills my mind. Our resident Circle doctor not only has the power of persuasion, but she’s dating my father… may become my mother soon. Her power scares me. Dad is oblivious, but she wants to tell him. What a can of worms to open…
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Tracy says, the hope fading from her eyes.
“You’ll believe Blake’s a werewolf, and I can obviously communicate with the dead, but someone who can persuade people is beyond belief?”
“Everyone can see me.”
“You, sure. You’re very powerful for a spirit. Most ghosts, not so much.”
The conversation brings back memories best left buried—my mother and father fighting about my delusions, my mother running out because she couldn’t deal with my emerging abilities, and worst of all, her admission that she too is psychic. I try to tamp them down, pretend it’s all in the past. But it isn’t. Mother wants to come visit, to reconnect after six years. I clench my jaw. Now isn’t the time. Why do thoughts of her always crop up when I’m weakest?
“I’m sorry,” Tracy says. Not sarcastic, not nasty, just a normal apology. “Your thoughts about your mother. You were projecting them rather loud. That’s my talent, in life and death. I can read thoughts, um, the negative ones anyway. That’s why I liked Jeffrey so much. His mind was closed to me for some reason. It was a relief to be around someone who wasn’t broadcasting his thoughts all the time.”
“That would suck.” I let out a wry laugh. Of all powers, that’s one I definitely wouldn’t want. Mine isn’t easy to deal with, seeing ghosts that others can’t, but at least I can’t hear everyone’s thoughts. Hell, it’s hard enough dealing with the nasty words thrown at me sometimes, I can’t imagine hearing the negative thoughts too. At least it explains how she and her cronies knew our deep, dark secrets.
“Yeah, the one person whose thoughts I needed to read, I couldn’t.” She laughs but it turns into what sounds like a strangled sob. “I was so happy about it too.” She pauses, staring up at the ceiling. “I loved him, you know.”
“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to be betrayed by someone you love.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
I watch her fidget, wringing her fingers together. “Tell me what happened, why you’re so afraid.”
“It was supposed to be Angela,” she whispers, her eyes downcast.
I stare at her, trying to keep the shock from my fa
ce, from my thoughts. She knew, but so did Angela. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions. Maybe Tracy didn’t know exactly what the psycho professor had planned.
“Tell me,” I say, my voice calm and even.
“Jeffrey was a master manipulator. I knew that… but I loved him anyway. Ours was a secret romance. He would’ve lost his job if anyone knew he was involved with a student.”
“Did you know about him and Angela?”
She stares at the wall, probably sorting through memories, the kind best forgotten. I watch in silence as she glides back and forth across the room, inches above the floor. Her face morphs through several different expressions, none of them happy.
“I found o-out,” she says, her voice cracking. “I blamed her, not him. Now looking back, I think he had lots of other girls, lots of stupid, naïve puppets.”
“From what I read about him and what came out in the trial, that wouldn’t surprise me.”
“What happened in the trial?”
“Not until you tell me what happened that night.”
A smirk spreads across her face. “Well, see, I’m rather impatient and tired of pretending.”
“Pretending?”
She doesn’t answer. One moment everything is calm and the next her spirit energy slams into me, knocking the air from my lungs. As I struggle to breathe, she worms her way into my body. Having a vision is one thing—our consciousness merges for a few minutes. But this… this is something entirely different. Damn her. She only pretended to be affected by the psychic drain caused by the barrier breaking. And stupid me… I fell for it.
“Get out,” I hiss through my clenched teeth, unable to make a sound louder than a whisper.
Again no answer. Painful convulsions rack my body. I fall to my side, my fingers digging into the plush carpet. A strange sensation pours down my arms, like cold slime running through my veins. When I try to lift my arm it remains unmoving. Panic surges, my heart racing so loud my pulse roars in my ears. The icy, slimy sensation oozes throughout my body, down my legs and into my feet. My bracelet vibrates on my wrist, moving up and down, slamming against the bone in my wrist. I concentrate on the bracelet, hoping to draw strength from the antique silver. Though it never stops vibrating, it also doesn’t stop the insidious ooze.
I won’t let you! I scream in my head, unable to speak the words aloud.
You have no choice. The voice echoes in my mind. Your body is mine now. Thanks.
Frigid ooze spreads to my head, and I try to thrash around, to fight it, but my body refuses to move. I let out a muted sob when my body pushes up to kneel before the floor-length mirror. My hand picks up the flashlight, shining it at the mirror. I relive that moment in my vision when I… I mean Tracy… couldn’t move due to the paralytic, trapped completely in my mind. But this isn’t a medicine that will wear off. This is a complete possession. I can’t. I won’t allow this.
Get out! Get out! GET OUT! I visualize pushing the slimy ooze away. Picture it receding to disappear completely. Nothing. A malevolent cackle echoes in my head, bouncing around and rattling my teeth.
You can’t stop me. You can’t stop me. Over and over she sings the taunt. I stare into the mirror, trying to twitch a finger, my nose, my lips. Nothing. Complete darkness envelopes me as I’m pushed into a small corner of my mind, trapped within my own body. Though terror tries to seize what’s left of me, I force myself to remain calm. I start counting backwards from one hundred, gathering my will and strength. From my dark corner, I watch Tracy test my body, flexing my arms and legs before twirling on my toes. She laughs and I wait in silence.
I keep counting, slowly pulling on her psychic energy which she seamlessly merged with my body—just a tiny bit at a time so she won’t notice. Doubts plague my mind, what-ifs swirling around like vicious eels prowling in the dark waters. I tamp down my rabid fear and concentrate on the slow count backward. Eighty-two, eighty-one, eighty… When I reach “one” she will be evicted. I warned her. Bigger baddies have tried to possess me and failed…
LOGAN
It’s so damn quiet up there. I pace the floor, not bothering to kick the shattered pieces of glass out of the way. The crunching of my footsteps is oddly soothing. Maybe I shouldn’t have left her alone with Tracy. What if this is all some plan to get Kacie alone? I limp up a few stairs. Kacie appears at the top, a look of relief on her face.
“What happened? Everything okay? You okay?”
She laughs, bright and cheery. “So many questions.” Giggles erupt as she bounds down the stairs, jumping into my arms. I catch her, barely keeping my footing.
“Crap.” I cry out as my ribs scream in protest.
“What’s the matter?” she asks, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“Injured. Remember?”
“Hmm, my poor, injured knight,” she whispers against my lips, pulling me into a kiss.
The moment her lips meet mine, I know for sure. This isn’t my Kacie. A war rages in my brain as I allow Tracy to kiss me. How did this happen? My stomach roils. Though it’s Kacie’s mouth on mine, the mere fact that it isn’t really her makes me want to push her away, but I can’t let on quite yet that I know. When she tries to deepen the kiss, I pull away, pretending to need a desperate breath while trying not to gag.
I stare into hazel eyes that I know so well, furious to see a light in them that isn’t right. As she leans in for another kiss, I pull her into a hug. Blake moves in behind her, and I meet his disturbed gaze. He sniffs the air, his lips pulled back in a grimace. I nod my agreement.
“Kacie?” Blake says, tapping her back with his finger. He holds his arms open like he wants a hug. Tracy pulls away from me and throws herself into Blake’s waiting arms.
She snuggles against him for a moment, but when she tries to pull away, he doesn’t release her.
“Get out of me!” Kacie screams as she thrashes in Blake’s iron grip. “Out. Out! OUT!”
A good sign. Kacie is fighting the possession. The adults all run into the room together, staring, mouths agape as Kacie struggles in Blake’s arms.
“We need to perform an exorcism,” Pastor Emilio says, clutching his Bible to his chest.
“No,” Mom says, stepping between him and Kacie. “It’s too dangerous. Kacie is strong. Let her fight.” She turns to me. “How did this happen?”
I tell her about the psychic barrier, the booming wave of energy, and how our psychic powers were drained away.
“We thought Tracy was drained too, I mean, she acted like she was,” I say, hanging my head. “She… Tracy looked so sad. We left them alone together when Tracy said she’d only talk to Kacie. I thought she was safe, and we were just around the corner on the stairs.”
“It’s my fault,” Blake says in a strained voice as he wrestles with Kacie. “I wasn’t as drained… I should’ve been—”
“Stop.” Mom shakes her head. “It’s no one’s fault. We all take on risks with what we do.”
“Argh!” Kacie screams. “Get out of my body!”
An explosion of psychic energy erupts from her, sending Blake flying backward still holding her in his arms. He slams against the wall and collapses to the floor. Kacie crumples against him, her eyes closed. Seconds tick by in silence as we wait to see what will happen. Blake sits up, cradling Kacie’s limp body on his lap. Moaning, she rubs her forehead with her hand before trying to push away from Blake.
“Hold on, princess.” Blake cups her cheek, turning her face so he can look in her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Let me go.”
He grins. “How about a kiss first.”
“In your dreams, wolf boy,” Kacie says, mimicking Raven.
I fall to my knees beside her, ignoring the pain throbbing up my thigh. “You’re back.” She holds her arms out, and I pull her to me, cradling her face in my palms. “I was worried.” Her lips meet mine, and I almost cry in relief. The kiss is sweet and tender, nothing like the aggressiveness of that harpy who possessed
her.
“How did you know?” she asks, leaning her forehead against mine.
“Your eyes, your kiss. She just wasn’t you.” I kiss her cheek then her lips one last time. “It was awful seeing someone else looking out of your eyes.”
“Glad you’re back,” Blake says, patting her shoulder. His lips curl into a smirk. “Just kidding about the kiss. I wouldn’t poach your girl.”
I laugh. “No, you were right. Great way to tell if Kacie was back in control.”
“Enough fooling around,” Pastor Emilio all but yells. “This isn’t a playdate. We need to exorcise this ghost.”
Mr. Kincaid clears his throat. “Pastor, would you mind checking on your assistant and the kids outside? We’ll call you back if we need to start an exorcism.”
“If you had listened to me to begin with, that evil being would be gone by now,” the pastor says, his face turning dark red.
“Please, Emilio, let’s head outside.” Mr. Kincaid heads to the front door without looking back. Mom gives the pastor a little push on the back when he doesn’t move. With a loud, obnoxious exhale, the pastor follows Mr. Kincaid out of the house.
“I think our dear pastor has become a bit overzealous,” Mom says once he has left the room. “Now, Kacie, what do we need to do to move this poor girl on?”
“She’s hiding and really weak now.” Kacie’s eyes dart around the room, searching. “I think she’s ready to move on.”
“Take the lead, dear,” Mom says, motioning to Kacie.
I feel Kacie try to extend her aura, but she’s too weakened by the psychic blast and the possession. She releases a loud breath and closes her eyes.
“I feel you nearby, Tracy,” Kacie calls out. “When you possessed me it went both ways. I got all of your memories, your fear, and your guilt. I forgive you. For hurting Logan and Daniel, for what you did to me. I can’t speak for your friends, but if they could forgive Angela, I think they’ll forgive you too. You were young and in love—under the hypnotic spell of a very evil man. I felt the pull he had on you. It wasn’t natural. He used you.”
Twisted Sisters (The Orion Circle Book 2) Page 16
