Cast in Stone

by Bilinda Sheehan

  Perhaps I’d been wrong to think she had buried the pain of her losses… not that she would open up to me. Megan liked to play everything close to her chest. No matter how hard I tried to get closer to her, nothing seemed to work.

  “You know if you need to talk, or…”

  She cut me off mid-sentence with a shake of her head.

  “You’ve already done more than enough for me. And anyway, I’m fine. Now go, or you’ll be late, and Rachel will send out a search party for you.” Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared down the stairs, the sound of the door slamming indicating she’d left.

  I was missing something with Megan, but I just couldn’t quite get a handle on it. Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let the tension in my shoulders slowly ebb as I released the breath. You could only help someone who wanted it, and for now, I’d done all I could. I could only hope it was enough.

  Chapter 5

  I parked the Land Rover, then hopped out and stared ruefully down at the weeds that covered the drive. I kept meaning to get to them, but that time never seemed to come, and now some of them brushed against my knees as I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed to the heavy wooden side door.

  As I was driving, I hadn’t realised just how tired I was until I’d spotted the familiar ramshackle farmhouse on the horizon on the outskirts of town.

  Shower and sleep. As desperate as I was to bury my head in a feather pillow, the thought of bringing the rancid scent of ogre into my bed made my skin crawl.

  Sliding the key into the lock, my hand brushed against the timber, knocking blue paint flecks onto the ground. The last person who had lived here had been obsessed with the colour blue, and while I didn’t find the colour particularly objectionable, it didn’t excuse the fact that they had painted over the beautiful oak door.

  Pushing open the door, I dropped my bag onto the cold, grey flagstones and let the door flop shut behind me. Silence flooded in around me, and I let out a long, slow breath. I’d never truly understood the saying ‘home is where the heart is’ until I’d discovered this house on an estate agent’s listing. It had sat idle for years, with lots of viewers but no one willing to take it on. The house wasn’t in great shape, and it would take a lot of time and work to get it exactly the way I wanted. But I had plenty of time, and I’d known from the moment I laid eyes on it that I had found my own little slice of heaven. And when I’d stepped inside…

  The sound of one of the doors slamming shut upstairs made me smile. Most people couldn’t bear the thought of living in a haunted house, but not me. The temperature dropped suddenly, causing goose pimples to rise along my arms and trail down the back of my neck.

  “I missed you too,” I said to the air around me.

  I could feel the presence pressing against my skin in what I imagined was its version of a hug. The sound of something smashing in the kitchen caused my brows to snap together. The ghostly presence in the hall vanished as quickly as it had arrived, and the pressure against my skin disappeared abruptly as I made my way down the hall toward the noise.

  While one ghost was friendly, the other was not. I’d heard some call it a poltergeist, a destructive spirit intent on harming those around it. Personally, I found it more irritating than malicious.

  Glass shards covered the middle of the kitchen, and I bent to pick them up with a sigh. A brisk knock on the front door made me jump, and one of the larger glass pieces bit through my skin. The air around me shivered, and I could feel the spirit’s happiness as my blood dripped out onto the stone tiles.

  “Yeah, laugh it up, but you won’t be happy when I call the priest in here to do a blessing.”

  The temperature dropped again, and my breath came in small puffs that formed in front of my face as I straightened up.

  “Behave!” Nothing happened for a moment, and then, as though the sun had come out, the temperature in the room spiked upward, and I knew the spiritual squatter had departed. For now, at least.

  I heard another knock on the front door, and this time it was a little more forceful. After dumping the glass into an overflowing rubbish bin, I headed for the door.

  I hadn’t noticed anyone on the road when I’d come in, and the house was isolated enough that visitors weren’t a common occurrence.

  Pulling open the front door, I gave the woman and child on the doorstep a puzzled look.

  “Are you lost?” I glanced past the blonde-haired woman in search of a car but saw nothing.

  Her blue eyes met mine, and my breath caught in the back of my throat. She was afraid. No, scratch that, she was terrified, and her fear spread outwards, washing over me in a wave that sucked all the air from my lungs.

  “No, no, not lost. My name is Carolyn.” She reached out to me with a trembling hand. “I need your help.”

  “Whoa,” I said, taking a step back, out of her reach. The last thing I wanted was to get any closer to the terror that seemed to be psychically leaking out of her and all over my doorstep.

  The little girl next to her squealed suddenly and flapped her hands, drawing my attention. Her brown hair was tied back in a hastily assembled ponytail, and she had the same blue eyes as her mother, but they sparkled with an inner light that instantly calmed my nerves. Her snub nose and round cheeks were rosy in the chill morning air, and as she looked up at me her lips spread wide in the biggest smile I had ever seen. I automatically smiled back at her.

  She looked so innocent, and the urge to protect her welled in my chest.

  “Friend,” she said, reaching out to me. I took her hand, and my concern over the terror I had seen in her mother’s eyes washed out of me. No one had ever looked at me like this, with such complete and unadulterated trust.

  “Meredith,” her mother scolded, drawing the little girl back onto the doorstep and just out of reach.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to me. “She doesn’t understand that she can’t just make friends with everyone. But Merry is special, and she has a real way with people. It doesn’t matter who you are; even if you were Jack the Ripper, Merry would still want to be friends…” Carolyn’s babbling drew my attention away from the little girl.

  “What?” I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head and fight the overwhelming urge to look down into the little girl’s beautiful blue eyes. Instead, I dug my fingernails into my palms in an attempt to keep my head clear from the tendrils of magic that sought to cocoon it.

  “There’s more to it than just her gift with people. Merry isn’t like other children.” Carolyn added, “Please, can we come in? I’ll explain everything.”

  I met her gaze head-on and made a snap decision. The terror on her face was too much to ignore, and I recognised the haunted look reflected in her eyes—hell, I’d seen it in my own often enough.

  Moving aside, I let her usher Merry through the front door. Her shoulders drooped as soon as she stepped over the threshold, as though all the tension she’d been holding inside had suddenly vanished.

  “Who told you to come here?” I said, following them through to the kitchen.

  “I met a woman in the shelter in Bournemouth who said I should come to see you…” She averted her gaze and stared at the floor.

  “This woman, tell me about her.” I couldn’t keep the suspicion from my voice. There was no woman in a shelter, that much I was certain of.

  “Fine, Adrian told me I should come to you,” she said abruptly, drawing Merry in toward her. The little girl struggled and fought against her mother’s grip and squealed in frustration.

  The temperature in the hall had dropped, and I could feel the ghosts lurking in the shadows. They didn’t like guests. Even the friendly one disliked anyone who upset the house’s equilibrium, but I’d always managed to get rid of newcomers relatively quickly so there had never been an issue.

  “What lives here with you?” Carolyn said suddenly, her eyes scanning the hall as her breath formed in front of her face in little white clouds.

  “Adrian.” I ignored
her question and repeated his name like a bad imitation echo. I’d spoken to him a little over an hour ago, and yet he’d never mentioned that I could expect guests. Adrian knew how much I hated houseguests.

  “Yes, Adrian. Now what lives here with you?” The woman’s terror was gone, replaced with rapidly rising concern.

  “Ghosts. Well, one restless spirit and a poltergeist, to be exact,” I said to her before I addressed the empty air. “Cut the drama!”

  The air grew still and heavy, making it harder to breathe. Merry chose that moment to break free of her mother’s hold and dart for the stairs. She wasn’t the athletic type, but her speed and determination caught us both unawares, and by the time I started to follow her she was already more than halfway up the winding stairs.

  “Merry, no!” her mother screamed after her, following me up to the second storey.

  The little girl stood at the other end of the corridor, her hand reaching upwards into what looked like empty air. But as she strained onto her toes, the air around her hand seemed to shimmer in the half-light that streamed in through the window. The beam of sunlight lit up the hall and Merry’s hand, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the early morning sunshine.

  But that wasn’t what held my attention.

  It was the other hand reaching out toward Merry’s. The sunlight passed through it and danced across the peeling yellowed wallpaper covered with blooming roses.

  “Merry, come back here, sweetheart,” Carolyn said from directly behind my shoulder.

  “Friend,” the little girl said, just as she had to me before I’d taken her hand.

  The sunbeam widened, exposing more than just the ghostly hand reaching out of the darkness. The woman’s face was difficult to make out, one half of it a whirling mass of shadows, but as she moved I glimpsed the evil that lurked beneath. Longing slammed into me, stronger than any feeling I’d ever gotten from the spirits living in the house with me.

  Merry saw the shadows shifting along the spirit’s face and her small hand hesitated, but she was far too close to the ghostly figure to pull away.

  And then, as quickly as it had appeared, the spirit pulled back into the darkness. Merry’s shoulders slumped, and I reached her before she tumbled backwards over the rumpled rug.

  Carolyn shoved me out of the way and wrapped her daughter up in an embrace that looked tight enough to squeeze the life from her. I’d always imagined my own mother would scoop me up in a similar embrace when she came for me. She’d never come, though, and as I watched Carolyn rock her daughter back and forth as they sat huddled on the landing, I couldn’t stop the short, sharp stab of jealousy that rocketed through my chest.

  “It’s gone,” I said. “I’ll be downstairs.” But my words fell on deaf ears, and so I left the two of them alone.

  There was no denying the little girl had power, though I would have to ask her mother just what kind she had. Although I’d met plenty of powerful beings, none were so completely innocent and so…vulnerable. I’d seen it in her eyes when she’d stood in the doorway, and again when she’d reached out to the ghost. Her soul was as pure as the driven snow, and that made her valuable to anyone and anything that dealt in black magic.

  Christ, I’d been living in the house for nearly a year and not once had the poltergeist attempted to materialise to me. Two seconds inside the door, and the little girl was trying to make friends with the bloody thing.

  What was more worrying was why they were here in the first place. Adrian wouldn’t have sent just any stranger to my door; he knew my history, knew I wasn’t the type who wanted visitors. If he sent them, then he had a damn good reason for it. The only problem? I was the only one who had no idea what that reason might be.

  Questions swirled in my head, making it hard to focus. There was only one thing I could do. Without a backwards thought, I headed for the kitchen and flipped on the kettle before rummaging through the cupboards for the teabags and a suitable teapot. There wasn’t much that a good, strong cup of tea couldn’t cure. And I had faith that, even now, it would come through for me.

  Chapter 6

  Sitting at the well-worn oak kitchen table, I cradled the steaming mug of black tea between my hands and stared out the window. After everything that had happened, all I really wanted to do was go to bed and rest.

  Exhausted didn’t begin to cover how I felt. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d used my magic, and it seemed the longer I allowed it to remain dormant the more exhausted I became. I had a feeling that, eventually, denying my true nature would become impossible, and I would be forced to use the power that coursed in my veins. And when that happened, the others would know where to find me.

  But I was tired of running.

  “Can I join you?” Carolyn asked, breaking through my reverie and jolting me back to the present.

  “Sure, there’s tea enough for two in the pot.” I set my own mug down and retrieved a couple extra mugs. I didn’t know if she drank tea, but Carolyn didn’t protest when I picked up the pot and poured a steaming cup of Earl Grey for her. I glanced over at Merry, who had some kind of juice box clutched between her chubby fingers, her blue eyes watching me intensely from her position beside her mother’s chair.

  “I don’t really have much in the way of food, but you might find a packet of biscuits in the cupboard…” I watched Merry’s eyes light up at the mere mention of the sweet treat.

  “Really, it’s fine…” Carolyn said, but I was already on my feet and moving for the cupboard where I’d stashed the last packet of Oreos. Even gorgons could have a sweet tooth, and the biscuits’ creamy centre was so heavenly it had turned me into a repeat offender. I’d been known to polish off an entire packet in one sitting and still consider going back for more.

  Merry watched me carefully as I carried the biscuits back to the table and ripped open the wrapper.

  “Is it okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, sure, why not.” Carolyn smiled wearily as Merry edged toward the table.

  Holding the packet out toward Merry, I couldn’t stop the grin from creasing my face as she managed to tug four biscuits from the foil wrapper before her mother could protest.

  “Merry, take one!” Carolyn pointlessly tried to stop her daughter, but either she was as exhausted as I was or the little girl was just that fast. Merry skipped out of reach, humming happily beneath her breath as she bit into the first biscuit and scattered crumbs down the front of her pink unicorn jumper.

  “I’m sorry…” Carolyn said again, but trailed off as I held the packet out toward her.

  “It doesn’t matter. You want one?”

  Carolyn hesitated before taking one. She smiled nervously at me before dropping her gaze to her cup, suddenly engrossed in the chipped rim.

  “So, you want to tell me why Adrian sent you all the way here?” I kept my tone pleasant and casual as I studied Carolyn’s every flicker and movement.

  Something was making her nervous, but I was having a hard time believing I was the root cause. From the way her eyes darted to the side every couple of seconds, as though she was expecting something to suddenly pounce on top of her, whatever was making her uneasy had to be pretty damn serious.

  “He just said it was somewhere we would be safe,” she said, refusing to meet my gaze. “He didn’t say there’d be ghosts…”

  “Look, I’m not one for visitors, and Adrian knows this. The fact that he sent you up here tells me there’s something pretty serious going on.”

  “With Merry’s gift, we can’t stay at the regular shelter. It’d make everyone nervous.”

  “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth,” I said, suddenly unable to keep the edge of irritation from my voice.

  “I am telling you the truth.” Fear coated Carolyn’s words.

  “No, you’re keeping things from me—things I need to know.” Anger coursed in my veins, and I gripped the edge of the table in an attempt to keep my emotions under control. What the hell was wrong with me? I
didn’t like unexpected guests, but the rage I could feel in my chest was definitely not warranted.

  Merry’s happy humming stopped, and I found myself pinned down by her blue eyes, which were rapidly filling with tears.

  “Don’t cry,” I said, reaching out toward the little girl. The ball of rage in my chest dissolved, replaced with the kind of sorrow I had long thought myself completely rid of.

  There had been a time when I’d felt empty and worthless. Frightened and alone. Fit only to serve the whims of the one who owned me. But the day I’d taken his life, I’d promised myself I would never allow my fear and sorrow to turn me into the perfect victim. His perfect victim. But now, it all came crashing back, washing over my head in a wave that threatened to swallow me body and soul. A riptide of pain that would suck me down into the depths of despair.

  I’d survived it once, but it had very nearly cost me my life.

  I would not survive a second time.

  “Merry, enough.” Carolyn’s voice cut through the sorrow like a hot knife through butter. The emotional rollercoaster I’d found myself on disappeared abruptly and I slumped in the chair. I brushed my hands across my face, and they came away wet with tears. Silence filled the place within my head and chest where the tumultuous riot had been moments ago.

  Hopping up from my seat, I backed away from the table until my hip bumped the edge of the sink, leaving me with nowhere else to go.

  “She doesn’t mean to. I’ve been trying to bind her powers, but every time I think I’ve got them under wraps they spiral out of control again.” Carolyn’s voice was filled with fear once more, but I sensed she didn’t fear for herself. She was terrified for her daughter, for what I would do now that I knew Merry’s abilities. If Carolyn hadn’t stopped her, just how far would she have taken it?

  I wasn’t entirely sure what exactly she could do. All I knew for certain was that she had somehow gotten inside my head and manipulated my emotions. I’d heard of empaths who could experience the emotions of others, but nothing like this.