by Jacquie Gee
I charge in over the threshold, away from the leaky porch roof rain, then hesitate before shutting the door behind me. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room.
“Anna?” Jules calls, tentatively stepping ahead of me into the parlor. No answer.
She has to be here. Where else would she be?
I step cautiously forward, following Jules through the main hallway, past the stairs, and toward the kitchen. From brief training—a weekend crash course in addressing paranormal activity, to be exact—I know it isn’t wise for us to be entering a known paranormal hotspot location, especially one where angry entities are involved, without first scoping the place out with my equipment.
But then again, my equipment is in town, in the back seat of my car. And here we are, inside the haunted house.
Though the gig is still up on whether or not the rumors are true, we should at least assume the resident of this house has an anger management problem.
Wow, Jayden, way to go. You just dragged an innocent girl into the clutches of paranormal horror. And you left town without telling anyone where the two of you were going. Lesson number one: Never enter the area of suspected activity without first informing someone of where you are. Yet, here we are, trespassing on the property of a known ghost and the only person who knows we're here is apparently missing.
"Anna?" Jules creeps slowly toward the center of the house, floorboards creaking beneath her feather weight.
The lights flicker. And then I remember—there are no lights. It’s the storm outside. Or is it?
“Did you just—?” Jules turns to me, wide-eyed and shaking. “Did you just shut off the light?”
“There are no lights. Are there?” I look around. I don’t recall any being on when we came in.
“I could have sworn the chandelier there over the stairs just blinked.” She points a trembling finger in that direction, and as she does, the filaments in the ancient bulbs flutter again. “Jayden!”
A cool breeze wafts in from the kitchen and swirls around us both. Our eyes follow, tracking it. I knew I should have brought my gear.
"Anna?" Jules shouts again, spikes of terror in her voice this time.
I scoot toward her as the breeze thickens.
“What is that?” she says, leaning back against my chest.
“I’m not sure you want to know.” I drop a hand onto her waist and pull her closer, as the breeze becomes even colder.
"Anna?" Jules darts forward, sticking her head through the archway to the kitchen, then stops. "Oh, Gawd." She gasps, bringing her hands to her mouth.
“What is it?” I shoot forward. A fire roars to life in the hearth in the kitchen—a hearth that looks like it hasn't since the 1800s.
“That can’t have been lit when we arrived, could it?”
I look back and the fire is doused.
"I don't think she's here," Jules quickly says, retreating down the hallway toward the parlor, as I’m still stuck staring. I turn and chase after her, careful not to frighten her as I come up behind. "But she has to be.” I grab Jules by the arm, whirling her around. "She told you she was coming up here to meet me, right?”
“Uh huh.”
"Then we can't leave her behind." I track the surroundings for any more strange activity.
"Look, maybe she canceled due to the rain.” Jules is trembling.
“And she wouldn’t let me know?”
She drops her head. “You’re right. That’s not like her.” Her trembling slows.
“You have seen her today?"
"Yeah. She left the shop about twenty minutes before you showed up."
"Then maybe she was here and left. I was supposed to be here sooner. Maybe she thought I was a no-show."
"Maybe. But she would have texted. Anna’s not one to give up that easily on a sale."
“Well, then, I guess we’d better keep looking for her.” I lean against the doorjamb, feeling the cold air encroaching on us again.
The muscles along the sides of Jules’ jaw twitch, as lightning snakes across the front bay windows. Then, without warning, the air hits Jules in the back, tossing her forward into my arms. I instinctively catch her as thunder strikes and it appears she's leapt into my arms because of it, but it's actually the ghost at play. He's tossed her into my arms.
"What was that?" Jules cranks around looking very distressed.
“I dunno for sure.” I shake my head. “But you better stay close.”
She clings to my chest. No argument there.
Lightning strikes again and thunder crashes. "She's an angry one and she's close."
“Ridiculously angry," Jules adds.
“Is this a typical Maritime thing?”
“No,” she snaps, trembling. "I don't remember rain even being in the forecast!"
Another crash of thunder and she scowls, looking deeply troubled. It sounds like it's hitting right outside the door. "You're right." Jules’ eyes look like they're about to pop from her head. She talks a mile a minute. "Anna must have left. Otherwise, we'd have seen her jeep. She can't be here, or she'd answer me. We should go." She whirls around, ready to bolt from the building, and I catch her by the waist.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" I say into her ear, pulling her to me, her feet still kicking. “No sudden movements, my friend. Besides, we can't go out there right now in the middle of all this." I look again to the lightning streaking the panes of the windows, like fireworks now. Every window of the house is affected, illuminating in rapid sequence. Thunder booms all around us, shaking the rickety old structure.
"Well, we can't very well stay here." Jules glowers into my eyes, as I lower her to the floor. “I’ll take my chances.” She turns, about to bolt again, and a particularly loud crash of thunder sends her screaming back into my arms.
"I think it’s best if we let things die down out there a bit."
"I think you’re right.” She buries her face in my chest. Her skin is warm and soft in contrast to the cold air around us, closing in tighter with every moment.
Jules looks up as lightning slashes the windows again. She lets out a small shriek and digs her nails into my chest.
“It’s only a storm,” I say, trying to comfort her.
“I don’t think so,” she says. The lights above the staircase flash on and off again. A strong crack of thunder hits, driving a gasping Jules to crawl the fronts of my shins. “Okay, look," she says, breathlessly, fearfully, staring up into my face. "There’s something I should have told you. This place is haunted, okay?" Her words come out fast and slightly garbled, her voice trembling as hard as her hands. "I probably should have told you that on the drive up here, but Anna said she really needed the sale, and there was the possibility of her winning the trip to Hawaii to consider and—"
"I know.” I gaze down at her.
“You know about the trip to Hawaii?”
“No.” I laugh. “I know about the house.”
“You do? And you came to look at it anyway?” Her voice cracks.
“Call me crazy—”
“Evidently!”
“And you’re a very good friend, by the way."
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Thunder crashes again and she snuggles close. The cold air presses us even closer.
"I'm… ah…" I start, feeling as though I owe her some sort of explanation. I can’t tell her all of it, but I should tell her something. “I sort of fancy myself a bit of a paranormal sleuth,” falls out of my mouth. It’s not completely the truth, but it’ll have to do for now. I feel guilty lying to her, but I swear when this is all over, I’ll tell her the truth.
"So, like a ghostbuster wannabe, is that it?" Jules pulls back, her voice nearly shrieking.
"Something like that—"
“You knew this could happen, and you dragged me up here?”
“No!” I scowl. “I—I had no idea this would happen." I run a flustered hand through my hair. What does she think I am, a monster?
"Unbelievable." She drops her hands from my chest. "I knew this was too good to be true."
“What was?”
“Never mind.” She turns her back to me.
"Look, i-if it's any consolation, this is not what you think." I move closer. "It's not voluntary. I have a gift or something. I—I see things—" I stammer, trying to explain the unexplainable.
"Omigawd, you see dead people?" She melts away from me.
"No, no—not like that. Well, sort of—"
She glares back at me, panicked.
"Okay, no, that’s not it.” I put up a hand. “No, that’s exactly it.” Jules gulps. "But only sometimes, and especially when they're related to me—"
"Fantastic. So, what? You know the guy that haunts this place?” The wind picks up, throwing the chimes that hang on the porch outside sideways into the wall, causing both our heads to snap around. A second gust of wind drives the chimes into the door and Jules back into my arms. The cold air intensifies, engulfing us like a blanket.
"It's a long story,” I whisper in her ear. “Maybe I'll tell you sometime over a beer—"
"I don't drink beer," she whispers back.
"Okay, fine, what do you like? Wine?”
“Moscato.”
Another resounding crack.
Jules screams. "I have to get out of here!”
“No, wait!” I reel her back when she tries to run again, catching a flash of green glowing light out of the corner of my eye. I pull her closer to me than before.
“So, let me get this straight,” she clings, her breath sounding jagged. “You make a living by talking to dead people?”
“No, not usually.” Gawd, I hate lying to her.
“But that’s why you’ve come to the Cove. To talk to the dead people.”
“One in particular, yes.“
“And why is that?" She glares up at me.
“Well, I was hoping this could wait till our second date, but, okay, here goes…" I glance briefly at the floorboards then back up into her eyes. "I came to talk to a ghost about my heritage. I’m hoping to find out exactly who I am."
Thunder cracks so loud it drowns me out.
“And this ghost, he’s here?” Jules voice wobbles.
“I dunno for sure.”
Thunder booms and lightning flecks like a light show. Hinges creak, and both our faces snap around and stare at the door, gape-mouthed and terrified, as it grates slowly open, revealing the raging storm outside. Wind howls within. The door gasps open and closed.
“I think it wants us to go.” Jules swallows as lightning wildly stripes the sky.
“I think you might be right.” A blast of thunder shakes the floorboards, and I grab her hand and step forward, as the door slams furiously shut, and the lock falls with a clunk. Jules shakes at the end of my arm. “What do we do now?”
Chapter 7
Jules
I'm in the arms of a man I barely know, in a house I shouldn't be in. A man who has just confessed he needs to talk to dead people to find out who he is.
Person, that is. One in particular.
What I’m doing at this moment defies all logic.
I can really pick 'em, can’t I?
Gawd, why do the good-looking ones always have to be fudged up?
I shudder in his arms, his expansive, thick anaconda-like arms, storm raging around us. If lightning flashes across that window one more time, I swear… It does and I jump, and something laughs.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yeah, sadly,” Jayden whispers.
I close my eyes and suck back a breath. It’s not real, I tell myself. He’s just a ghostbuster wannabe, that’s why this is happening. He’s willing it into his universe. And unfortunately, I’m sharing it.
"So, what do you think?" Jayden stammers, his chest heaving against my chest.
"About what?"
"What I just said." His breath rolls unevenly at my neck. "You thinkin' I'm a nutcase, right?"
“No. Of course not.” Lies. All lies.
“Really?” His voice squeaks like a nervous little girl's.
"Well, okay, full disclosure, I'm not exactly thinking you're the average catch right now, no."
"But at least you're still thinking of me as a catch." He waggles his brows.
Seriously, dude? THIS is what you’re thinking about at this moment?
The wind and rain lapse into a momentary lull. "What do you say we make a run for it?" Jayden suggests, his eyes glued to the window.
"Now?" I spin around, my shoulder grinding against his chest. “But what about the door?”
“I’m also pretty good at karate.”
I scowl.
"It's either that or stay here for the night." He looks down at me. "I don't even know if I'm up for that yet. How about you?"
“Absolutely not.”
His eyes traipse warily about the house as if planning an escape route. A full minute has passed since lightning streaked the windows and my heart is more than grateful. It's been two since the sound of thunder, which I take to be a good sign.
"Okay, I’m in,” I pant, still shaking.
"All right, then. On three." He grabs my hand. The strength of it gives me the courage to unstick my feet from the floor. His fingers are grasped so firmly around mine, they seem to fit me like a glove—a long-lost one.
Why did I just have that thought?
I'm struck by the very strange feeling that I’ve been here before. In this very place, in this very moment, both of us, together—standing chest to chest, breath rising and falling, worry etched across our rain-splashed faces, moonlight shimmering in over the sill of the window. The scene changes from here to the sand, the curve in the bay, outside the house. I have the feeling like we're supposed to be here, staring into one another’s eyes, entangled in one another's arms—like we've stood here once before.
It's impossible, of course, because we haven't been here or there. We've only just met an hour ago. Maybe two. Why then, in my heart, do I feel like I’ve known him forever? Two strangers—yet, weirdly, not strangers at all.
I gaze up into his eyes and note something familiar.
A jolting sensation causes my heart to jag in my chest. It deepens the longer I stare, filling my blood with glowing warmth, and my lungs with air.
"What is it? What’s the matter?" Jayden tilts his head. "Something wrong?" The flash of his eyes makes the sensation grow stronger.
"No." The word comes out as a listless gasp. Quite the contrary. It's odd, but despite the shakes from nerves and the terror of the storm, I haven't felt this settled in years.
"You ready to go?"
"Uh-huh." I nod my head, robotically.
Why do I feel like I should kiss him?
He bends his head and crooks his neck and I get the feeling he's been struck by the same idea too. There’s an old hesitation, and almost undeniable, needful yearning, during which both our lips part, and our breath snags, and our hands clasp each other’s arms. The skin-tingling ardor that follows overwhelms me, and my knees feel weak. It's as if I've woken from a long-term stupor, and I finally know what I need. And just as his lips are about to brush against mine, his head jerks suddenly back.
The fervid eagerness washes from his gaze, and his eyes take on a startled look. "I’m sorry,” he whispers, turning red. “Then let's do this," he says, clutching my hand as if it belongs to him, and launching forward, dragging me along in tow, our feet scuttling quick over the battered floorboards to the front door, which Jayden fights to hurl open.
Outside, lightning strikes again. Angrier than ever this time.
“We’ve got to get out of here, now!” Jayden shouts, yanking on the door. I push him out of the way and haul it back, hurling it open myself. The door flies open, nearly torn off its hinges. I stand shocked at my strength. “Come on!” Jayden swings me across the threshold and out in front of him as we race across the mucky yard.
Lightning shatters the sky, quaking my stri
de. The streak ripples down the branch of an old oak tree in back by the water's edge, igniting its silhouette like a skeleton against the almost black sky. Its limbs burst into fire.
Jayden draws to a stumbling halt. "This type of thing happen often around here?" he shouts, above the storm.
"No, can't say that it ever has!”
The branches of the old tree explode into a raging ball of flame, and I don’t wait for him to pull me, I start running. Jayden gasps for breath behind me as we charge over the unkempt grass toward the car, lightning flashing like sky snakes all around us.
I slip in the mud, coming to a stop by the door, and plunge my hand into my pocket in search of the keys. "They're not here!" I turn and shout over the roof to Jayden. I’ve turned every pocket out. They’re not here! “I must have dropped them somewhere on the ground." I fall to my knees searching the earth. "Or back in the house." I stand, looking frantically back at Jayden. Rain beats down on both our faces.
"No." He shakes his head. "No. We’re not going back there. I know you had them. You had them all along—"
"Well, I don't anymore." My voice shakes.
"Of course you don't." He looks back at the house.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Just give me a minute." He turns and races for the porch.
“What are you doing?” I shout after him.
As he lunges, the door of the car pops mysteriously open. It slowly creaks ajar.
“Jayden!” I shout, stilting his step. He turns and stares at the door.
"Did you?" My mouth falls open. My hands tremble.
"No." He shakes his head. "Good, gospel.” He glances back at the sky. “We're in a lot more trouble than I thought."
"What?"
"Nothing. Get in!" he snarls. “Quick before it shuts—”
"But I can't drive—"
"Just get in!" he shouts above the storm.
I dive through the door and in behind the wheel, as Jayden slings open the passenger side, falling into the seat next to me. “Go!” he says. “Go, go, go, go!” He pounds the dashboard.
Mysteriously, the car engine chugs, though I've not touched a thing. Lightning cracks, illuminating every inch of the sky, and I look down to find the keys are in the ignition. I glance wide-eyed over at Jayden, who glares back at me. "Don’t ask," he says. "Just go!”
