Whispering Hearts

by Cassandra Chandler

  The witch’s ball. She had forgotten about it after taking it down and putting it under the sheet.

  Her mind began to race. With Michael in the room already, using it would be the equivalent of a flash-bang grenade. He would probably be confused and startled at the least.

  But he could retreat to the person he was possessing. Having a living body as a shelter in addition to whatever piece of him was anchoring him to the physical plane… That explained a lot about his strength and abilities.

  He had been strong-willed and extremely charismatic when he was alive—his psychopathic focus was no doubt serving him on the other side. She had seen his type before in the prisoners her mother exposed her to. But Michael… He was even more dangerous.

  From what he said and the powers he was already demonstrating, he was well on his way to becoming a demon—if Rachel didn’t stop him.

  Hiram and Chloe weren’t here to help this time. She was on her own. All she had was the ball, and while it would distract Michael, she doubted it would affect the alligator outside her window.

  Slowly, she rose to her feet, keeping the witch’s ball hidden in the sheets she brought with her. She pretended she was using them to staunch the blood on her arms.

  Pain from the cuts on her feet lanced up her legs. She didn’t let that stop her from approaching the window, carefully avoiding more glass. Water was still coming in through the hole she’d made, wetting the floor. Her blood stained it red.

  Peering out, she saw the alligator sitting on the wet ground. Its eyes glowed blue, the same shade as Michael’s only lit with a preternatural light. She jerked back a few steps as it opened its mouth and hissed.

  Michael laughed. “Do you like my little pets? They certainly liked your friend Garrett.”

  She turned her head toward the sound of his voice. Garrett should be at the hospital by now.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean he made them a substantial meal.”

  “No, Garrett left, he—”

  “Do you really think after you strung him along for years, then finally let him rut in your body that he would be able to go? He turned around to come back. Of course, with this little storm I prepared for him, he didn’t get far. I made sure my friends gave him an exuberant welcome.”

  Michael clacked his spectral teeth together.

  She was shaking again, but this time it was rage. Garrett couldn’t be… Especially not that way.

  Michael must have read her expression.

  “The good doctor is dead. He is dead because he loved you. And love is the most dangerous thing of all. Women are not to be trusted. They will trap you and torment you. He learned this at the end. My gift to him.”

  The storm had stopped. She noticed it with numb detachment. The storm that Michael had used to kill Garrett… Only a gentle drizzle remained.

  “It was my gift to you too, Rachel. I can do more than make you suffer. I wanted you to see I can make you happy as well. Give you what you want. Pleasure is an excellent appetizer for pain.”

  A chill breeze hit her ear again, creeping down her neck and along her back and arms. Michael was standing right behind her, running his hands along her body.

  He was still playing God, only this time with her heart instead of her life. He had pushed her toward Garrett, made sure she had a taste of happiness greater than any she had ever experienced. And then he had taken it away.

  “I am the only one who truly understands you,” he said. “Who you are, what you can do. We don’t need to worry about anyone getting between us anymore. Garrett has already crossed over. He didn’t even think to wait, to help you. But I waited. I’m here. For you. All you have to do is join me.”

  He wanted to break her, to control her. But instead of despair, all she felt was rage.

  If she thought she had a chance of taking Michael out from the other side, she just might try. But with how well he could manipulate the physical world, she didn’t want to think about what he could do to other spirits. He had always been a master manipulator.

  Rachel was finished being his puppet.

  She felt his hands on her shoulders as if he was urging her forward. His voice was gentle. “Take your pick—my pet or the glass. I recommend the window. It’ll be cleaner.”

  “I recommend you go fuck yourself.”

  She dropped the sheet and held up the witch’s ball, directing all of her rage and grief through it. The ball acted as an amplifier for her already enormous pain. She wanted Michael to hurt, like she was hurting. Worse.

  The emotion blasted through the room. She could feel it. And even without that, the way Michael screamed let her know it was working. The remaining glass in the window exploded out into the yard.

  That was unexpected…

  Still holding the ball in front of her, she walked toward the empty space. Water and glass slid out of her way as she approached, pushed by the force of whatever the hell she was doing.

  Outside, the alligator was already leaving, heading for the canal at the back of the property. She could sense that Michael had left—for the moment. Her heart was racing, but even that sensation was muted at the stark reality she was left to face.

  Garrett was gone.

  “Rachel!”

  Rachel looked around the room. That was Garrett’s voice. But he had crossed over… Hadn’t he?

  “Rachel!”

  Someone was pounding on the front door.

  Garrett!

  She flung the door to the room open and ran through the house, chucking the witch’s ball onto the couch as she passed it. Garrett was still pounding on the front door. It sounded like he was trying to break it down.

  “Garrett! I’m here!” she shouted as she unlocked the door and threw it open.

  Time seemed to pause. Garrett was standing on the stoop, his hair plastered to his face, rivulets of red streaking across his forehead and down his cheek. His clothes were pasted to his body and his chest was heaving as his gaze roved over her as well.

  “Jesus…” he gasped.

  He crossed the threshold and picked her up in one movement, crushing her to his chest as she wrapped her legs around his waist to hold on to him. He kicked the door shut and turned so that her back was against it, then he kissed her.

  His lips crashed down against hers, his fingers firm against her backside as he held her tight. She wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss, wanting to feel him, all of him, to know he was truly all right.

  With their chests pressed together, their hearts were so close—only a few inches of flesh and bone between them. She could feel their energy mingling, merging.

  She needed more.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  This didn’t seem like the time to start something. Both of them were bleeding, though it all looked superficial. Who knew what kind of danger they were in. But Garrett could feel how much Rachel needed him, needed this. He sure as hell needed it too.

  Her legs were wrapped tight around his waist, her tongue delving into his mouth and fingers burrowing through his hair. He pressed her against the door, grinding against her till she groaned.

  How could this be happening? Gators outside, ghosts everywhere…

  And Rachel opening herself up to him completely—heart, body, and soul. He could feel her fear, her relief, her grief. And a hell of a lot of lust and love thrown into the mix.

  Just about the same as him.

  But he was only getting the tip of the iceberg of what she was feeling. He sensed the weight of it lurking under her skin.

  She arched her neck as he trailed his mouth along her trachea and down to her collarbone. Her hips were already moving on him. She was aching and hurting and needed an outlet for too many emotions. Quickly.

  “Garrett…”

  “I know,” he murmured against her
skin.

  She hadn’t bothered with underwear when they threw on clothes to make breakfast. Stretching his arm around her thigh, he pulled down his waistband and lined himself up. He plunged in deep, holding on to her thighs. Their gazes locked.

  Her body relaxed against him as she let out a shuddering breath. And then another.

  “Kiss me,” she said.

  “Any time.”

  A faint smile crossed her lips before he claimed them. He thrust his hips, her body warming him, sending frissons of pleasure all along his nerves. With the adrenaline already coursing through his system, he knew he wouldn’t last long. Lucky for him, he could feel she was in the same boat.

  Using her arms on his shoulders for leverage, she moved in synch with him, arching her hips away then back with each of his thrusts to get every drop of stimulation possible from their union. She sped up and he matched her, until the sensations were blurring together in a cascade effect.

  All the adrenaline that had coiled in his body focused around where they were joined—on the primal energy of this act of love and longing. It gathered deep in his gut, pressure building until it burst through his body.

  He felt himself shifting, like part of him was moving into her as they came and part of her merging with him. Something beyond the physical, something new and bright and full of possibilities. It left his skin tingling and his legs weak.

  He leaned against her, pinning her to the door, while he pulled himself back together. She was still pulsing around him, holding him tight everywhere she could. When he slid from her at last, he lowered her feet to the ground, then reached down to pull his pants back up.

  Her face was burrowed into the side of his neck, the vibration of her voice traveling through him when she spoke.

  “I thought I’d lost you. He said…” Her voice broke. “He said you were dead.”

  “Look at me.”

  He waited for her to straighten up so they could look in each other’s eyes again. Tears streaked her cheeks, tugging at his heart.

  “Never gonna happen.” He kissed her again, then rested his forehead against hers. “While you’re here, this is where I belong.”

  She nodded and sniffed. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the couch in the living room.

  After setting her down, he pulled his T-shirt over his head. He should really get the First-Aid kit, but he couldn’t leave her. At least the wounds were as superficial as he first thought. They must sting like crazy, though.

  He knelt in front of her and dabbed at her legs with his shirt. “What happened?”

  “It’s Michael. He’s back. He never really left.”

  Garrett nodded. “Yeah, I figured that out when he tried to drown me in that storm and sent some gators after me.”

  “How did you escape?”

  “Broke a window and climbed on top of my car, then jumped off and ran like hell. They chased me farther than I thought they would, but when I reached the house, they sort of lost interest. Good thing too, because I left my keys behind in my hurry.”

  He chuckled and glanced up at her, hoping he could ease her worry even a little bit. Nope. There was a crease wedged between her brows and she was getting ready to cry again.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “Michael’s the one that needs to be sorry. And we’re going to see to that next.”

  There had to be something in one of her books that would help them. Otherwise, they were trapped in his house with no way of calling for help. He didn’t like the idea of that at all.

  “How did he hurt you?” He could hear the change in his voice as he asked the question. The low tones almost hitting a growl.

  “He didn’t. I broke a window too.”

  “With your arms?”

  They seemed to have taken the worst of the damage, but all the scratches were shallow. She had a few scrapes on her knees and the outsides of her legs, and needed to stay off her feet for a few days. Those were the cuts that worried him the most. None were deep enough to need stitches, at least.

  “I used the reading chair in the guest room.”

  “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “He said he was going to kill Jazz. The door to the guest room wouldn’t open and I couldn’t think of another way to get to her. God, Garrett, the things he said…”

  Garrett held her face so she had to look at him. “We’re going to stop him. Do you hear me? He’s not going to hurt anybody else.”

  “But he already is hurting people. The women he killed—they were right. He’s able to get to them again. He’s torturing their spirits in the afterlife. And Jazz…”

  Garrett’s stomach curled in knots. “What about Jazz?”

  Rachel gripped his hands and pulled them into her lap. “She called me right after you left. The signal wasn’t very clear, but she was trying to ask me about possession. And then Michael told me that he’s already taken someone. He’s going to force the person he’s possessed to kill Jazz if we don’t stop him. That poor man… What he must be going through right now.”

  Garrett’s thoughts were spinning. All his friends were in danger—again. And even though he knew it was happening, he had no way to get to them. No way to help.

  “He’ll go after Elsa next. He’s going to kill everyone I care about to punish me. I know it.” Rachel leaned forward as if she was getting ready to jump up.

  “You need to stay off your feet.”

  “I need to get to my friends!”

  Garrett let out a deep breath, knowing how upset she was going to be when he told her the truth about their situation. Knowing he had failed her again.

  “The car’s stuck in the sand. There’s no getting it out. And I’m not sure how far away those gators went.”

  And his phone was in the car along with his keys. Shit. He didn’t bother bringing up that cheery point. They would check her phone for a signal as soon as they could.

  “For the time being, we’re stuck here,” he said. “And that means you stay off those feet.”

  “No. There’s more we can do.”

  “Rachel, you’re going to start bleeding again if you walk around.”

  “Good. I can use that.”

  His heart sank as he saw the determination in her gaze, felt it echo in his soul. There was no talking her out of whatever she was thinking, even if it meant more danger, more harm to herself. All he could do was make a stand with her.

  “Tell me what to do.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Blood magic was powerful. One of the most powerful magics.

  Michael might have been a ghost long enough to figure out tricks and gimmicks, but Rachel had been studying the paranormal her entire life. She had just never opened herself up to her powers before. Powers she had grossly underestimated.

  She remembered the water—red with her blood—moving away from her and taking the broken glass with it as she walked to the window. Psychokinesis.

  Yes. She could use her blood. But she would need more if she was going to put a stop to Michael.

  Runes. Definitely something with runes.

  She wasn’t naïve enough to think that she could get Garrett’s car out of the sand. But she could make the wards incredibly stronger if she reinforced them with her blood. That helped her and Garrett, but no one else. Michael was still free to go wherever he wanted at the speed of thought.

  She surveyed the room, taking stock of her resources. Censer with incense, salt, saltwater spray bottle. Those were small-scale compared to what she was facing.

  If Chloe were there, she might be able to channel Michael’s spirit into her own body and banish him. Rachel had heard of séances for that purpose. But she had never been part of one. Never been taught how to do it.

  Sometimes, other people were used as receptacles for the spirit whi
le the medium remained outside and could focus fully on banishing the ghost. Rachel looked at Garrett kneeling in front of her.

  She knew he would have faith in her ability to keep him safe. He would jump at the chance to help, even putting himself through that hell. He was probably the most powerful resource she had, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—use him like that. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t right.

  There had to be some other way.

  She glanced down at the couch, her gaze caught by the witch’s ball. Caught…

  The tunnels of glass within the orb were meant to trap malicious spirits. What if she could lure Michael back and somehow trap him in the ball?

  She picked it up, wiping her hand over its surface. How could she possibly get him into it? If she hung it back in a window, he’d simply stay outside or find another way into the house. He could wait them out, like a siege.

  She couldn’t stop staring at the witch’s ball. It was the key. She knew it. But if she couldn’t use it in a window…

  “A mirror!”

  Garrett started and fell over backward. His eyes were wide, but he must have been encouraged by the smile she felt pulling on her face.

  “Warn a guy next time,” he said.

  Her grin turned wicked. “Oh, there will be no warning. What I have planned will be a total surprise.”

  From the guest room, a tinny sound called out to them. Her phone again.

  “Like that?” Garrett asked. He jumped up and started toward the room.

  “Wait! I’m coming with you.”

  She ran to the counter, ignoring the pain in her feet and the way she slid on the bamboo floor as they started to bleed again. She grabbed up the container of salt and the spray bottle, pinning them to her body with the arm that held her witch’s ball. She didn’t dare drop it with what she had planned.

  “Dammit, I told you to stay off your feet.”

  “I’ll heal. Now let’s go before we miss the call.”