The Ghost Files 4: Part 1

by Apryl Baker

  I knew we should have taken him back to the hospital last night. I knew it. Why did I let Zeke talk me into waiting? I can’t lose him. I just can’t.

  The antiseptic smell that bathes all hospitals keeps tickling my nose. I hate hospitals. Nothing good ever comes out of being here. Bloody ghosts everywhere. I’ve already seen no fewer than six of the buggers. All trying to get my attention. Mary gave up trying to ignore them and walked outside. At least she can’t see them. Two of them are gross—car accident victims, maybe? They are all banged up, one’s head split open, a large chunk of glass embedded in the wound.

  “Excuse me, dear?”

  I stop pacing and turn to face the elderly lady who’s been sitting in the waiting room chair, knitting. She’s probably in her seventies, her white hair soft and perfectly done up in a bun at the back of her head. Large green eyes stare at me from behind her glasses. Someone’s grandmother.

  “Do you mind not pacing? You’re starting to make me dizzy.” Her tone is kind, so I bite back the snarky comment. I merely nod and walk down the hallway. I’ll go pace where she can’t see me. I need to be moving. If I sit still, this all becomes too much.

  Why is his nose bleeding?

  The long hallway is empty, for the most part. I see two nurses at the end of the hall talking to each other. Or maybe one or both are lab techs. They all wear scrubs, so it’s hard to tell them apart.

  When they enter the set of double doors a few minutes later, it leaves me completely alone. Dan asked me not to call anyone until we know. He doesn’t want to worry his parents. They’ve been through enough already. Not that I could call anyone. My phone is still in my purse at the banquet hall, unless Zeke had someone retrieve it.

  I stop pacing and lean against the wall. My stomach is rioting, and I may end up puking soon if someone doesn’t come out and tell me what’s going on with Dan. Why didn’t I make Zeke take him back to the hospital last night?

  Sliding down the wall, I sit and wrap my arms around my legs, resting my head on my knees. I feel helpless, and I hate it. He has to be all right.

  The sound of shuffling feet catches my attention, and when I look up, I see Eli Malone striding down the hall toward me, his face intent. My own personal Guardian Angel. He looks like one with his scruffy blond hair and aqua eyes. Such beautiful eyes. Dangerous eyes. I’ve seen those eyes on the man who killed me in one of my visions. Even knowing this, he doesn’t inspire panic, only a sense of calm. I need that calm right now.

  “Hilda.” He sits down beside me, resting his head against mine. He’d shortened my name Mathilda to Hilda just to annoy me. “You should have called me. I’ve been worried.”

  “I…I don’t have my phone.” My words are barely above a whisper. Heat seeps into me. I’m always so cold, except when I’m around Eli. He becomes my own personal furnace. According to the lore, my Guardian Angel becomes whatever I need him to be, and that’s usually a furnace. I have so much ghost energy, I’m always freezing. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I can always find you, Hilda. Guardian Angel bond, remember?” He wraps an arm around me and pulls me closer, his lips grazing over my cheek. “Always.”

  Eli is an enigma to me. He makes me feel things I have never felt. I like him. I do. A lot. But part of me wonders if it’s not this freaky bond we share that has us all twisted up. Can I really trust what I feel, or is it the bond making me feel like this?

  Right now, I don’t really care about any of it. I just want someone to tell me it’s all going to be okay, and being in Eli’s arms is just as good as.

  “Dan’s going to be fine.” His whisper reaches my ear seconds after my last thought. “Everything’s going to be okay. I don’t think that reaper wants to tangle with you again.”

  It’s the bond. What I needed to hear was the first thing out of his mouth. I know it deep in my heart, but I’m selfish. I twist and curl into him and let my head rest on his chest. Eli feels so comfortable, like we’ve known each other forever. Maybe we have. Maybe that’s why I keep dreaming of people with his eyes.

  “Caleb’s waiting for an update for us now. I think the nurse said they’d taken him to CT, but she was going to check on it for us.”

  I nod, not trusting my voice. I’m barely holding myself together. Scotch tape and Elmer’s glue. Poke too hard, and I’ll come apart. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the old lady who’d been sitting in the waiting room watching us. She’s staring like she wants to say something, but her manners won’t let her interrupt. I wonder if my grandmother will be anything like her. Sweet, kind, and totally loveable.

  “Hey.” He nudges the top of my head with his chin. “Talk to me, Mattie.”

  “Dan thinks I’m overreacting.” I need to talk about something besides Dan possibly dying again. Head wounds and nose bleeds go hand in hand. Mrs. Cross had been so freaked out she’d insisted we go to the hospital on the spot. Mary’s mom is a nurse, and a very good one.

  “He’s not dying, Hilda.” Eli snuggles me closer.

  “No, not about that. About Doc.”

  “Doc?”

  I tell him about last night, about the photo. “He’s known who I was all along, Eli, and he never said a word. He lied to me for months. How am I supposed to trust him now? And the look in his eyes…it scared me.”

  “I’ve known the doc for a long time, but what he did, that’s not cool, Hilda. He should have come clean with you once you’d gotten to know him. I can understand a few weeks, but months? Not cool.”

  “I know, right?” I shake my head. “But Dan and Mary think I’m overreacting. I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe they’re right. Had he told me the truth right off the bat, I probably would have walked away from him. Back then, I didn’t trust anyone, not even Dan. He wouldn’t let me walk away from him. I tried, but he never gave up on me.”

  Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

  “So let me guess, Mary and Dan think you should talk to the doc and let him explain himself, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sounds like a Caleb move. He’s always the rational one. Me, I’d have punched him. I’m surprised you didn’t.”

  “Me too.” A hollow laugh escapes. “I blame it on the shock.”

  “Don’t stress about it. When you’re ready to talk to the doc, you will.”

  “Thanks, Eli.”

  “So besides rushing my brother to the hospital, what else have you been up to? I tried calling last night and again this morning, but it went straight to voicemail. I even thought about coming over to check on you, but I got the feeling last night your father didn’t want anyone near you.”

  “He’s protective.”

  Eli snorts at the thought. I know he doesn’t like Zeke, so I change the subject. “A little girl went missing from Mary’s neighborhood today. I knew her. Good kid. We spent all morning searching for her. It doesn’t look good.”

  “Dad’s over there.” Eli shifts, pulling me into his lap.

  “Did they get a ransom call? Is that why the FBI’s involved?” Hope springs to life. If they want a ransom, maybe she’s not dead, or worse.

  “No. Dad called his supervisor and asked to be assigned to the case.”

  “He doesn’t think it’s the run-of-the-mill pedophile, does he?” Eli’s dad is Special Agent John Malone. He works for the spook squad in the FBI. They are called in when there are paranormal elements involved.

  “Dad’s been tracking the case and there have been some new developments.”

  I finally look up. He’s staring off into the distance, his eyes troubled.

  “What kind of developments?” What new torture could Fate have drummed up for me now?

  “He thinks it’s a fallen angel, Deleriel, one of the first demons that fell with Lucifer. It rises once every one hundred and fifty years to feed off the souls of children.”

  “Why does he think that?” When did my life become a revolving episode of Supernatural?

  “Do y
ou remember that kid Mary’s been babysitting for?” Eli strokes my hair absently, settling my nerves a bit. When I nod, he continues. “Seems the kid was supper for the demon. He’d been feeding from him. Mary fought it off, protected the kid, but there’s a complication.”

  “Complication?” That doesn’t sound at all good.

  “We think it has a thing for Mary.”

  I sit straight up and lean back. “What?”

  “It didn’t hurt her. She said it gave her back the kid and then caressed her cheek. I think it wants her. Mary’s soul is pretty pure. Something as black as that thing? She could feed it for centuries.”

  “It’s not getting her.” I mean that. Mary’s been through too much to fall victim to a demon who’d do God knows what to her tortured soul. I won’t let another person I love get hurt. Not if there’s anything I can do to stop it.

  “What’s wrong with your eyes?” Eli cocks his head, studying my face. “Hilda?”

  “Don’t call me Hilda.” I gently disentangle myself from Eli and stand. My eyes probably flashed black for a minute. They seem to do that when I get angry. I’m not getting into that with Eli yet. I don’t know how he’ll react.

  The little old woman at the end of the hall waves to me. “Dear, can I speak with you?”

  Then it hits me. She’s a ghost. I’m so cold, I hadn’t registered the temperature drop. It was only when Eli warmed me up that I noticed. She looks hesitant, almost afraid. I haven’t been known to be the nicest person when it comes to ghosts, but then again, most of the ones I’ve dealt with wanted me dead.

  Why not see what she wants? Maybe one good thing can come out of today. I walk down the hall toward her, and she smiles when I stop in front of her. “What can I do for you?”

  “Mattie?” Eli is right behind me. “Who are you talking to?”

  I ignore him and focus on the little grandma in front of me.

  “I’m waiting for someone, my granddaughter. She’s here in the hospital with her parents. Cancer. She’s only three, but so beautiful.” She’s holding her knitting needles in her hand, and part of me tenses up, used to fighting off malignant ghosts. Eli can’t see her, though, so it’s a good sign. He can only see ghosts that have gone mad.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “All things happen for a reason, sweet girl.” She reaches out and takes my hand. It’s solid. Most ghosts can manage that if they try, but they can’t maintain it for long. “You have to remember that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I only have a moment. Things are coming, dark, dark things. You have to be prepared, little reaper, and remember that things always happen for a reason.”

  “I don’t understand…”

  She leans up and kisses my cheek then fades away.

  What the heck was that about?

  “Mattie who are you talking to?”

  “A ghost.” I turn and walk back down the hall. I need to check on Dan. All this talk of things happening for a reason pushes my panic button, and before I know it, I’m running. Caleb is standing at the nurses’ desk speaking with one of the nurses. My face must have shown my alarm because he puts up a hand.

  “He’s fine. His CT is clear.”

  “Then what’s making his nose bleed?” I demand, my panic level at high alert. What was that old woman talking about?

  “It’s not unusual for someone who’s been on oxygen for days to have a minor nosebleed.” Nurse Sunshine over there is way too peppy. My stare is enough to make her smile wilt.

  “It wasn’t minor. He soaked through an entire towel on the way here.”

  “She’s right.” I turn to see who I presume to be the doctor behind us. “The nose can bleed a lot. Most of the time, it’s like a head wound. It looks worse than it is.”

  “But his head wound…he left too early.”

  “I agree he left too early.” The doctor keeps her tone soothing. “I’ve checked his scan twice, and it’s completely clear of any swelling or bleeding. I wanted to keep him overnight for observation, but he’s having none of it.”

  “That sounds about like Officer Dan.” Relieved, I let my panic recede a tiny bit. He’s not dying. “He’s more stubborn than I am.”

  “Not possible, Hilda.”

  I jab my elbow in Eli’s ribcage, and he reacts like he’s been delivered a killing blow. “Careful, there. You still owe me a proper date, and damaging the goods beforehand is not allowed.”

  “Mattie?”

  The hint of a smile that had creased my face falls away when I see Jake’s mom standing a few feet away. Flashes of Jake being shot by his brother flicker through my mind, of being chased, of watching Meg die. Seeing Mrs. Owens brings all those memories back, and I grip the edge of the nurses’ station to keep from falling. My breathing speeds up and black spots start floating in front of my face.

  The last thing I see is her face going from haggard to alarmed as I fall, the darkness eating away at my sight until there’s nothing but blessed silence.

  Chapter Nine

  I rub a hand across my eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight. Did I faint? I’m not a fainter, but I’m pretty sure I fainted. The curtains blow, and I shiver at the bite to the breeze. When did it get cold? It’s at least a hundred outside today. I stand, and two steps in, I trip and fall flat on my butt. What the…when did I put on heels? The black sequined shoes mock me from where they rest on my feet.

  “What are you doing down there?” The British accent pulls my eyes up, and my gaze lands on aqua eyes. The man laughing down at me is tall, his hair as black as coal, and his skin dark, like he spends a lot of time out in the sun. He holds out his hand, and I take it. He pulls me up and plants a light kiss on my lips.

  A baby’s cry splits the air, and he laughs. “I’ll go see to our son before the nanny can swoop in. You finish your toiletries.”

  When he lets go and strides out the door, all I can do is gape after him. Then I look down, another shock claiming me. I’m wearing a very short, sleek dress, the fringed ends telling me I’m in a flapper’s dress from the early 1920’s. My hand flies up to my head and I gasp. My long hair is gone, and instead it barely comes to my ears. Frantically, I look around for a mirror and find it in the corner. I stumble my way over to it and blink at what I see.

  Dark honey gold hair is styled in a short wave as was the hairstyle back in that era. The dress is crimson, black lace trims the bodice, and the fringed beading is also black. A black choker with a cameo is around my neck. Blue eyes taunt me from a face I don’t recognize.

  Where the heck am I?

  Another vision. It has to be another vision.

  I lean down and take the heels off. I can’t walk in the danged things.

  “Going to Lisette’s shoeless, are we? Now, that would be quite the fashion statement.” I jump, startled at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. He’s lounging in the doorway watching me. No, laughing at me.

  I smile at his charming banter. I can’t help it. This version of me loves this man. I can feel it in her bones.

  “My feet hurt.” I pick up the shoes and set them on the bed.

  He pushes off the doorframe and glides over to me, a grin teasing his lips. “We can’t have that, now, can we? Perhaps we should skip Lisette’s party altogether. I’m sure we can find other things to do.”

  Ummm…no. Nope, nope, nope.

  I slide away from him. “No, we should definitely go. She’s expecting us. I’ll put the shoes back on before we get there.” Even the sound of my voice in its very posh English accent is weird.

  “But I don’t want to go.”

  I still at the sound of the gun being cocked.

  Fudgepops.

  I’m less than a foot away from the door. If I turn and look at him, it’ll be too late. Instead of doing what he expects, I fall and roll out the door. The gun goes off, and I feel a sting in my side. I pay it no mind and get up, my feet flying down the stairs. The front door is locked, so I turn and run down a long
hallway, checking each door as I go. The last one is open, and I hastily go in, closing it behind me.

  A quick search for a weapon reveals nothing but books. I’m in a library. My first instinct is to hide under the desk, but instead I squeeze myself between two bookshelves. I’m barely small enough to fit.

  He’s coming. Footsteps echo down the hall, and the sound of each door being tried brings him closer and closer.

  “Susan.”

  Fear pierces my heart, but along with it a deep sense of betrayal. I remember how this feels. I remember the pain, the confusion, the deep sense of grief at knowing the man I loved killed me. All those things are rushing back, filling me up.

  The door creaks open, and he enters. His face is still its charming self; only his eyes have gone hard and cold. He’s standing by the light mounted to the wall, its soft glow glinting blue highlights in his hair. The revolver is in one hand, and he’s scanning the room. When he closes the door and walks into the room, I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This isn’t going to end well.

  “I know you’re in here, Susan. Please come out.”

  He’s crazier than I think he is if he expects me to come out. The woman whose body I’m in is screaming inside, terrified of what’s happening. So am I, but I’m smart enough to stay silent.

  Just like I thought, he checks under the desk first and then frowns. He knows I’m in here. There were no other escape routes that I saw. But then maybe I wasn’t supposed to find any other way out. Maybe all these dreams, or visions, or whatever are memories. What if I’m remembering what happened to me in past lives? Past lives with an aqua eyed man who murders me.

  “Come out, my darling.” The sound of his voice sends shivers through me. He sounds so sane, like a man who loves his wife.

  He bends down and inspects something on the floor. He stands back up after a minute and starts walking. Straight toward me, his eyes downcast.

  Blood drops. He’s following a trail of blood drops from my wound. He’d shot me as I dived out of the bedroom. As soon as I realize what it is, my side begins to burn and ache like nobody’s business. Why do you never feel the pain until you realize the wound is there? Why am I thinking about stupid stuff right now, anyway?