I dump my stuff on the kitchen table and trudge up the stairs feeling depression smother me in a heavy blanket of blah. After walking into my room and hearing, seeing, or sensing the slither of some kind of terror-inducing nightmare lurking in the shadows, I’m seriously repentant about Nathaniel leaving.
I whirl around and zip back downstairs. The instant feeling of ice rippling down my spine sends a violent shiver from my head to my toes. Whatever was upstairs felt dark and mischievous and I don’t want to have anything to do with it. I run out the front door and stop dead on the porch. It’s chilly and the trees cast long pointed shadows across the yard. I sense movement from over by the garage door and nearly leap out of my skin, but I quickly recognize my cat, Ariel.
I click my tongue and whisper, “Kitty-kitty, come here.”
Her tail swishes and I see her look up at me on the porch. A minuscule amount of courage comes with the knowledge I have at least one ally on my side. Ariel jumps onto the deck and I reach down and scoop her up. I turn to go back in, but Ariel is of a different opinion about entering the house. As soon as I take a step over the threshold, she hisses and claws her way out of my arms. Before I can do anything to stop her, she tears out the door and vanishes into the night. This does very little to control my runaway imagination. I take a shaky breath, surround myself with an invisible protective shield of light like Chris Abeyta taught me and shut the door.
The first thing I do is flip on all the lights downstairs. This helps a little, but of course I’m home alone, which doesn’t calm my fears. My mom’s at work and Jared isn’t back yet. When else would there be a ghost in the house?
I’m absolutely terrified there’s one in my room. I don’t want to look around the house, but I find myself sneaking glances into every corner. At least all the places that are lit by the lights. The family room looks unoccupied, but the hall closet has me worried so I move into the kitchen and dining area. The laundry closet doors are wide open and there are no other hidden corners so I decide to stay here. This lasts all of about thirty seconds before I find myself staring at the phone and considering whether or not to call Jared and ask if he’ll be coming home soon. What would I say to him? I’m too chicken to be in the house alone. There’s a spirit on the loose and I need you to get rid of it for me. Nathaniel comes back to my mind, not that he ever leaves it completely. All I would have to do is say his name aloud and wait for him to show up. But what if he appears out of thin air and gives me a heart attack? He told me he was tiring and would have to rest soon and he still had his new client to see. I’m brave. I will not call him back. Wasn’t I telling him earlier I’m not the Little Missus? Besides, I don’t think I could handle seeing that look in his eyes again. Did I really sleep with Jared’s scuzzball friend? Why can’t I recall all the details of what happened with what’s-his-name? I do not, under any circumstance, recommend being possessed. It sucks big hairy ones.
After a couple more minutes have passed and absolutely nothing happens, doubt creeps in. I drum my fingers on the dinner table, then chew on a fingernail. Was I making it up? Did I really see something move inside my bedroom?
Then I realize Grandma gave me something to arm myself. Did she know? She said she thought something was amiss. It’s been right in front of me this entire time. Duh. The herbs and the spray are in my bag. It’s funny because Nathaniel mentioned I smelled different when I came out of the herb store. He said it surprised him because as an angel he normally doesn’t notice smells anymore. I asked him if I smelled good and he sort of wrinkled up his nose and shrugged. I took that as a no and stuffed my bag down on the floor of the truck.
Taking the two pouches of herbs and the bottle of spray out of my purse, I stuff the sachets into my jeans pockets and begin spraying the entire house one squirt at a time. I hesitate at the bottom of the stairs but force myself to go up. I mean come on, I’ve fought a dead warlock in my sleep, and I’ve been face-to-face with soul-stealing demons. Surely one little-lost spirit will be nothing in comparison to those nightmares. My lovely traitorous brain tries to remind me I don’t know what is upstairs, but I tell it to shut up. This is my house, and I won’t be a slave to fear.
I pump the spray bottle as fast as I can and flip on every light switch as I go. The earthy spicy smell fills the hallway and bedrooms until I’m finally standing in front of my bedroom door. I reach in as far as I can without actually stepping inside and flip on the overhead light. My finger keeps working the spray bottle until I am choking on the mist. I pull out one of the herb bags and hold it out in front of me as I continue to work the bottle with my other hand. Slowly, I make progress into my room, scared to death to turn toward my closet, but as the big mirrored door comes into my peripheral vision I let my eyes look into the last unseen corner.
Nothing unusual or unnatural screams at me. It’s just my room. A green chair, my dresser, my plants, the bed, and the big steamer trunk. I fill my room from ceiling to floor with the stinky herbal spray and wave around the sachet. It doesn’t matter that my room now appears totally harmless. I still don’t want to be in here. I grab my notebook and pen from the far side of the bed and head downstairs. As I sit down at the dining table, I realize my closet door was wide open. I distinctly remember closing it because I didn’t want Nathaniel to see the mess inside. Somebody or something opened the door while I was out. I shake off the renewed jolt of terror. I went through the entire house and didn’t see any ghosts.
Since I obviously won’t be sleeping anytime soon, or maybe ever, I make a cup of hot tea and sit back down at the table. Jared’s clock is still not working, but that’s a good thing. Broken clocks make the house feel more normal to me. Ever since I can remember, clocks don’t like to work when I’m around. Every watch I’ve ever owned has broken almost immediately after putting it on my wrist.
I flip open my notebook to an empty page and begin to journal about my day, my night, my date, my incredible boyfriend, how scared I was when Marcus attacked him, and how I may have made the most life-altering mistake of my life when I was possessed by the succubus. Sitting back in the chair, I stare at the sliding glass door to the backyard letting it all sink in.
I lean back over the table and write,
Fear plays its part. It’s connected to the heart. It’s a game of desire. Which one of us is the best liar? You chose to listen. I chose to run. Along the way, we had some fun. Playing games of the secret kind. Our backs were turned, but fair was never learned. So we fought and we died. Far away from each other’s eyes. I’ll never show you, how much I cried.
Before I can refine and tighten the new poem, I hear a car pull up in front of the house. My anxiety eases a smidgeon as I hear Jared come in. I also hear a girl with him. Star helps Jared toward the stairs. She raises a hand in a partial wave hello, then turns her attention back to my brother. Jared’s voice sounds slurred, maybe drunk. He couldn’t possibly be high after his last ordeal and our talk earlier. I hear muffled giggles and Jared turning up his charm. He sounds really off though, and I can’t help but think he’s drunk, or on some pills, or something. Marcus is nowhere to be seen, otherwise I might ask him what’s going on with Jared.
I want to believe he wouldn’t screw up his sobriety and recovery at the first given opportunity, but my ears weren’t deceiving me. As I’m about to go slap the stupidity out of him, I hear someone coming down the stairs.
Star walks into the kitchen barely pausing when she sees me. “Bizarre night, right?” she asks, as she turns the corner and walks straight to the pantry like she’s done it a thousand times.
“Yeah, really,” I say, watching her with interest.
Star opens the door and peruses the shelves. “Jared asked me to get him some crackers and some of the tea from the fridge. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all,” I say, but am wondering why he wants crackers. “I’ll pour the tea,” I offer, then make myself useful by retrieving his nightly dose of herbal infusion. He’s high but wants his medic
ine? What a goober. As I grab the jar with Jared’s pre-made tea I nearly stroke out in the middle of the kitchen as I hear an almighty “thwap” behind me. Spinning around I see the broom handle lying on the floor and Star grimacing at it guiltily. My breath catches in my throat.
She squats down to pick it up. “Oops. That was loud.”
As she straightens back up and puts the broom back in the corner of the pantry, I try to control my shaking hands. I slip past her and attempt to put the jar on the counter without dropping it.
“A bit jumpy, are we?” she says with a slight laugh.
Finding my voice takes more effort than it should, but I recover and say, “If a broom falls, a spirit is in the house.”
“Doesn’t it just go that way sometimes?”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I mean, we just left Castle Hill. Which is seriously creepy, right? And I come over here to escape it, and this shit happens.” She shrugs and glances at the broom.
“Yep, that’s the way it goes,” I say, drier than the pack of crackers in her hand, while remembering all my unfortunate experiences with ghosts and the like. “It’s just an old saying anyway,” I say, trying not to feed the paranoid delusions running amok in my head like over-caffeinated hamsters on their fun wheel.
“Hmm, let’s hope so,” she says and comes over to stand by the counter.
I reach over and grab a glass from the dish rack, noticing my hands are relatively steadier, and pour Jared some tea.
“If you’re having a problem with spirits in the house, I might be able to help,” she says.
I look over at her so surprised by what she just said I nearly trip over my own foot. Tea splashes onto the counter and I sigh. She smiles and I think she swallows a laugh as she takes the glass from me. “Let me give this to Jared and I’ll be right back.”
She’s like a shadow as she glides out of the room. Her amazing dress from earlier is gone and now she’s wearing a loose black shirt that drapes open over a shoulder and dips low in the front and the back. Skinny black pants and ballet slippers complete her midnight attire. I look over at the back door and consider walking out into the night and maybe not coming back. Did she just volunteer to ghost hunt in my house?
A familiar scratching sound makes me move around the counter and slide the door open. Ariel sticks her satin gray head inside the house, twitches her nose, rounds her spine, hisses, and refuses to come in. I slide the door closed. Even my cat knows something is seriously wrong. Last time she was acting this strange, the succubus was inside the house. She even tried to attack Corrine and me. Ariel’s behavior tonight isn’t promising.
When Star comes back downstairs she’s holding a small black silk bag.
“What’s with my brother?” I ask as Star leans against the wall and yawns.
“We were partying with Lance, and he said he wasn’t feeling so hot. I volunteered to bring him home. I wasn’t thrilled about staying at the castle anyway. My band thinks it’s cool, but there’s like nothing but a bunch of trees and creepy ghosts.”
“Castle Hill is pretty far from town,” I admit. “And, I wouldn’t stay the night there either. Ever.”
“You see them right?” she asks.
I flinch a little at the question.
“Sorry,” she says quickly. “Jared told me you see spirits and stuff.”
So my brother told her already. Great.
“Don’t worry about it. I can feel them in Lance’s castle too.”
“Really? You feel them, but don’t see them?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. I don’t get to talk about this kind of thing very much. Chris Abeyta is the only person who I can mention spirits and auras to without feeling like a total lunatic. My grandma also has what she calls “abilities”, but I still don’t want her to know what I can see, hear, and feel. I can’t take all the questions from her. Too much has happened lately involving ghosts, spirits, angels, fairies, and auras. Not to mention being possessed by a succubus, getting exorcised by Chris, the whole ordeal with Travis, and saving Nathaniel from an eternity as a lost spirit. I haven’t even processed everything yet. I guess I’m afraid to open that can of worms with Grandma. I’m just not ready.
“I think I’ve known about ghosts since I was a little squirt, but I didn’t know I could get rid of them until my great aunt showed me how.”
“Cool,” I say. “So do you feel anything in here?”
“No.” She shakes her head and a section of red and black hair sways across one eye. She won’t look me in the eye though as she answers.
“What is it?” I ask, feeling her hesitation like a hiccup.
She tilts her head toward the stairs. “It’s upstairs.”
“Crapazoids. I knew it.”
“It wasn’t a very strong feeling. I think I can deal. It’s nothing like at Castle Hill.”
“How do you get rid of it?”
She moves over to the table and opens her bag. She removes a small velvet pouch, opens it, and takes out a quartz crystal. She lays it flat on her palm. It’s about three inches long, completely clear, and there’s a notch in the end.
“This is what I use,” she says and places it back down on the table. From the velvet bag, she pulls out a thin copper chain and wraps it around the end of the crystal. Then she lets it dangle in the air.
I stare at the rock in silence and try not to let my skepticism show. She lays the crystal back on the velvet pouch and touches the lacrimosa hanging around her neck. Her fingers linger on the small piece of amber which makes up the body of the spider design. The amber is dark and so similar to her eye color it’s almost uncanny.
“Are you all right?” I ask wondering why she suddenly went silent.
“This holds my tears from when my sister died. I never take it off,” she says.
Her sister died? I feel goose-bumps rise on my arms and a shiver sails through my bloodstream.
“Did you feel that?” Star whispers and our eyes meet.
I nod, trying my hardest not to freak out.
She raises a hand and rubs the back of her neck. “A rabbit just ran across her grave,” she says and smiles shyly. “See, you’re not the only one who knows old wives tales.”
“How did she die?” I ask.
“Brinna was sick.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it sucks.”
I bite my lip, feeling the awful heavy truth of what is coming for my brother.
Her gaze shifts back to the table. “Sorry,” she says. “Sometimes I think I sense her.”
“Yeah. I know the feeling,” I say unenthused.
“Come on,” she says and leaves the kitchen. “Pretend we’re having fun and it’s no big deal. That’s what I do.”
Glancing around the empty kitchen provides no last-second divine inspiration for how to get out of this crazy scheme of Star’s to go ghost hunting. Feeling like my feet weigh two tons, I drag myself up the stairs. Pretend we’re having fun! Yeah right.
She walks straight toward my closet before I say anything. Wow. She’s good. Star holds the crystal pendulum out in front of her like a guide. She looks fearless as she raises her arm toward the shelf above my clothes.
“It’s here,” she says, glancing over at me. She refocuses on the closet and closes her eyes. “In the name of the Goddess, you must leave this house.”
She says it two more times and I watch with fascination as the crystal seems to glow and come to life. What really shocks me is that it’s her energy making the crystal shine. It’s as if her aura concentrated, moved down her arm to her hand, and filled the crystal up. A shift in the room makes me snap my mouth closed as a black fog seeps out of the closet and disappears straight through the ceiling. It happens so fast I can almost convince myself I imagined it. The whole room feels lighter.
“Cool, right?” she says with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.
“Nice trick,” I manage to say because I’m so floored by how simple
she made it look.
“Why does your room smell like an Indian restaurant?” she asks.
I blink a couple of times and reach into my pockets for the forgotten herb sachets. “I sprayed some air freshener earlier,” I say as I crunch up the bags in my hand. The smell of sage and mint and something else I can’t name floats into the air around me. I move past Star and toss one of the sachets onto the shelf in my closet. “That might help, too.”
“Do I smell sage?” she asks.
“Mmm-hmm.” I toss the other herb bag onto my trunk next to the bed.
Star glances down at the crystal in her hand. “I need some salt and fresh water now.”
“Let’s go back downstairs.”
After she sprinkles some salt on her crystal and washes it with running water from the sink she puts it back in her pouch and reties the black bag.
“Let’s go crash,” she says as if this has all been very normal and we just finished watching a cartoon or something.
Sleep couldn’t be any more appealing, except I’m so keyed up, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.
“Why did you say, ‘In the name of the Goddess’?” I ask as we head back upstairs.
“That’s how my aunt taught me. She’s like the high-priestess of her coven. Or used to be. She knows all kinds of cool spells and charms and stuff.”
“Your aunt? Huh,” I say contemplating for a second. Is Star a witch too? I don’t ask. Sometimes I savor my ignorance. “What Goddess are you calling?” I’m curious about how her little ceremony worked, but I’m also pretty paranoid after watching Travis, the warlock, conjure and commit evil acts to call demons and corrupt human souls.
“Gaia,” she says as if it’s not all that important.
“Like the Earth Goddess?” I ask, trying to clarify.
“Sure,” she says with a shrug.
We stop in front of Jared’s bedroom door.
“Jared?” I call and step inside his room when I don’t hear him answer.
Haunting Me (An Angel Falls Book 3) Page 10
