Ghost Huntress Book 6: The Journey
Page 14
I see that Jayne’s small fingers are trembling as she touches the planchette. Christian’s hands join on the item, as well. The cameraman moves forward, kneeling in the front to, no doubt, get a good close zoom shot.
Head tipped back and eyes closed, Christian asks out, “What is your name?”
The planchette slides across the glossy MDF board—damn Celia and her information overload!—with Jayne calling out the letters.
“D. O. J. O.” She gasps roughly at the last one.
Christian smiles. “Ahh… my old friend, Dojo. You are here with us tonight after all. Come forward and be heard.”
“I can’t take this anymore,” I say firmly. Patrick tries to hold me in my seat, however, the adrenalin is flowing through me like a raging river and I break free. I charge down the middle aisle, unnoticed. That is, until I scream out, “You’re a fraud!”
Every head in the place turns to me. I feel a hundred sets of eyes on me, including the shocked ones of Oliver Bates on the front row.
Christian merely sneers at me. “Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Moorehead?”
Teeth gritted, I say once again, “You. Are. A. Fraud, Christian. Or should I call you Andrew Christian MacLeod!”
The fake-and-bake tan of Christian’s fades on his ashen face. He levels his stare at me and I can almost see the smoke coming from his ears over his instant anger and irritation at me. He knows I’m on to him, so let the real show begin.
“You’re taking advantage of these people who are grieving the loss of loved ones. You’re preying on their emotions and charging them for false hopes and information.”
I move up the aisle to gasps of horror and a few tears. Still, I have to do what I have to do. “Admit it, Andrew MacLeod, you and your family made up this alleged Dojo Disturbance just so you can get an international tour and your own television show.”
Christian’s mouth literally drops open. Jayne’s does too as the Ouija board falls to the stage.
Oliver stands to head me off. “Kendall, this isn’t the place—”
“Yes it is! Shame on you, Oliver, for encouraging this. He’s nothing but an imposter.”
Christian screams out, “Security!”
Oliver rushes over to Christian and Jayne and sweeps them away back stage.
Before I know what’s happening, two large men in black suits move in, take me by the arms, and drag me out of the ballroom.
“Patrick! Help me!”
*~*~*
I’m unceremoniously shoved into the expansive suite where Oliver, Christian, and Jayne are waiting for me.
Immediately, Patrick and our friends spill into the room to defend my honor. “Kendall, you’re not hurt, are you?” Patrick asks.
I rub my arm where one of the gorillas manhandled me. “I’m okay.”
Oliver is anything but fine. From the bulge of the vein at his temple and his red face, I’d say he’s fuming. He lifts his hand and for a split second, I actually think he’s going to take a whack at me for ruining this TV show that he and Christian have been working on.
He surprises me, though, by pointing his wrath at the Scottish teen. “This is all true, isn’t it?”
I slump against a nearby chair in relief.
Christian advances. “She’s poisoned you against me. She’s turned you all against me.”
Celia snorts. “Dude, I never liked you.”
“Me, either,” Jason adds.
Taylor and Patrick shake their heads and Becca laughs. “I just got here and I think you’re a piece of crap.”
Christian is livid. He knocks over the lamp on the table next to the couch. “You’ve ruined everything!”
“No, Christian. You’ve done it to yourself and you tried to drag us all down with you,” I say. “Especially Oliver, who put his trust in you.”
Oliver stands aside rubbing his head. His eyes roll back into his head and I know his psychic abilities are taking over. “I didn’t want to see this. I could have seen it, but I didn’t.”
“Tell him, Christian,” I say sternly.
He runs his hands through his perfectly coifed and gelled hair. “I need the money. My family’s bad off. I just picked up where my grandfather left off. He did all of the research on the Ouija boards that came from the same trees in Germany. Grandfather said if he could perpetuate the myth that all of these boards together were some sort of portal that he could pass himself off as the only person on the planet who could save people from this evil, demonic activity. He died trying and never succeeded. But he didn’t have the Internet and connections and television like I have.” He spins to face me. “And I could have done it, if it weren’t for you!”
I feel that Christian’s about to dive at me. However, Jayne’s tears stop him.
“I believed in you, Christian,” she says in a small voice.
Christian turns to Jayne and growls at her. “You can still believe in me. I’m the same person. I still have powers.”
She circles her hands and throws him off of her with the strength of ten men. As her tears gush, she screams out at him. “You were my hero and all you did was manipulate me and everyone else. All of those people in your gallery. Those were simply lies. Those people looked to you for guidance and you betrayed them all for fame and fortune.”
Rage overcomes Christian and he shouts gutturally like a banshee gone mad. “Ahhhh! Grow up! All of you!” He swings his arm again; this time knocking off a blue vase from the side table. It flies three feet and shatters when it hits the hotel room wall. Taylor, who’s capturing all of this on her video phone, has to jump out of the way to avoid the shards of china.
“Christian, stop!” Oliver orders.
But the fraud isn’t listening, and moves to the desk chair, picking it up over his head and smashing it to the ground. Then he goes to the flat panel TV and wrenches it off the dresser. Jason and Patrick rush forward to stop him. He wrestles them off him and shoves Jason down. Horror eats at me seeing muscular, athletic Jason Tillson knocked on his arse by the smaller Christian. Patrick tries to capture Christian’s arms, but he twists out of reach and dives over to the nearby king sized bed where his bag sits.
He rummages through the bag and dumps out six, seven, eight Ouija boards, lining them all up on the mattress.
“What are you doing, Christian?” Oliver asks.
“Stay away!”
“Christian, you’ve lost it,” I yell.
“You’re going to be sorry. All of you! I am a messenger. I can conjure up this spirit to smite you all.”
“Smite?” Patrick says mockingly.
Christian tips his head back as he places his fingertips on two of the boards. “Dojo! Hear my cry! Come to me. Help me defeat my enemies. Bow to my commands, Dojo!”
I shake terribly from the fear of the situation. Yet, I bravely step forward. “Christian, there’s no such thing as Dojo. Stop this right now. You need help.”
He glares right at me and I swear his pupils are red, glowing with hatred for me. He speaks to me slowly and distinctly in a very deep, growling voice. “You are the one who is going to need help.”
“Who’s that talking?” Celia asks, stepping away.
Oliver breathes deeply. “Christian. Stop this right now. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Christian laughs hysterically, long and hard, until he begins to cough. It’s as though he’s choking, grappling for a good, strong breath.
Jayne hurries to his side, still crying something fierce. “Christian, Oliver’s right. Please stop!”
He looks up at her with remorse and his own tears in his eyes. “I don’t think I can,” he manages to eke out before he falls to the floor.
Princess Diana materializes in the room, and this time I’m not awed by her past celebrity. Instead, I turn pleading eyes to her, not knowing what to do.
“Protect her, Kendall. Just as I’ve protected you.”
Before I can do anything, Jayne screams and falls back onto the be
d.
And then, right before all of us, she levitates six feet into the air.
“Holy crap! Now what do I do?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
We all stand gape-mouthed as Jayne hovers over the hotel bed.
No one is more horrified than Christian. He scrambles up off the floor and cowers back in the corner. “What’s going on? Jayne! Stop that! How are you doing that?”
Jayne doesn’t say a word. She just growls from her gut in a low sound that can only be described as demonic.
Okay, this is not what I signed up for when I agreed to come on this simple summer European jaunt. I wanted history and touring, riding metros and maybe even try eating a few things I’d never had before. In no way did I plan on facing some insane teenager who’d managed to summon something sinister from the other side.
Christian claws at the wall behind him and tries to cross the room to escape.
Jason blocks his way. “You’re not going anywhere, buddy.”
Patrick squares up next to him, providing a muscular boy wall Christian won’t penetrate. Just like him to think only about himself and to turn tail and run. We’ll deal with him later. Right now, I have to worry about Jayne.
“What are you doing to her?” I ask of…whom?
Jayne’s weak voice bursts through. “Help me, please.”
She rises even higher off the bed, nearly six feet in the air now. A booming voice rises from her chest. “You dare trifle with me!”
Oliver takes my hand. “Who are we dealing with?”
Jayne’s chest heaves and the voice bellows out. “Dojo!”
Christian swoons as he sucks in a deep breath. “It’s real?”
“Yeah, bitch. Your crap is real,” Becca says through gritted teeth.
“I’m not dealing with this. No way!” Christian makes a break for the door.
Quite unceremoniously, pretty Taylor trips him up and literally flips him over her shoulder, landing him on the floor with a resounding grunt.
Shock crosses Celia’s face and I know it mirrors my own. “What was that?” I ask.
Taylor shrugs. “I took Tae Kwon Do when I was in Alaska.”
Becca snickers. “Remind me never to tick you off.”
While Christian lies there on the floor, Oliver runs into the other room. I have no idea if he’s coming back or not, so I turn to Diana.
“Talk him out of her,” she instructs.
“Jayne. We’re here for you. You’ve got to fight him. Do not let him take you over.” I turn to Patrick and stretch my hands out. No words need to be exchanged as we lock fingers to join our psychic abilities. Patrick is the first to address the demon.
Dojo, in the name of the Lord, I command that you leave this girl alone.
Nothing but dark laughter resonates in our heads.
My turn.
She did nothing wrong. She didn’t summon you. She doesn’t deserve this.
Not that I want this demon to turn his attention to Christian or anything like that. I just want this entity gone. Back to hell or purgatory or limbo or wherever.
I start praying hard, hoping God hears me and will have mercy on Jayne. It’s not her fault that she wrongly trusted Christian.
Princess Diana stands nearby nodding at us. We must be doing something right.
Leave her alone, Dojo! Leave all of us alone!
Oliver dashes back into the room with a large vile of water. Holy water!
“Where did you get that?” I ask.
“I had a priest at Notre Dame bless a bunch for me. You know, in case of a rainy day.”
Patrick snorts. “I think we have a hurricane on our hands.”
Not wasting any more time, Oliver pops the lid off the vial and throws the holy water at Jayne’s body.
She screams out as if burned, but she also drops a foot or so out of the air.
“It’s working,” Taylor yells out.
Oliver tosses more water at her as Patrick and I continue to hold hands, praying and demanding that Dojo leave Jayne’s body. Steam sizzles off of her as the holy water does its job. She twists and fights, crying out.
“Hang in there, Jayne!”
Finally, the vial is empty of its contents and then Jayne’s small body falls out of the air. Fortunately, she lands on the soft bed.
Jason and Celia run to her side immediately to see if she’s okay. Jayne draws her knees up under her chin, trembling and crying at the same time.
“He’s still here,” Princess Di says to me. “Protect yourself, Kendall.”
Patrick and I join our minds and coat ourselves in a protective bubble of white light. I feel the warmth of God taking care of me as I fight what I’ve been sent here to take care of.
“Where is he?” I ask to whoever can answer me.
Princess Di’s eyes slice over to where the stack of Ouija boards has fallen to the floor. I break contact with Patrick and bend down to gather the offending divination tools.
“You can’t take those,” Christian cries.
Patrick blocks him as he moves to stop me. “Oh, hell yes, we can.”
Patrick and I gather the boards and follow into the living room of Oliver’s suite. Even though it’s summertime, flames crackle in the fireplace. We toss the boards in and they are swiftly consumed by the hissing tongues of red, orange, and white. And then, just like that, the boards disappear in a whooooooooooooshing vapor.
Patrick covers me with his body and we all duck onto the floor to avoid whatever happens next. I sense a vortex suck out the air in the room and then vanish into the fireplace like some sort of magnetic force. It takes a few seconds, but everything seems… fine.
Christian stands up and smoothes a hand over his clothes. He glares at me hatefully. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, lass, could you? You’ve ruined me!”
I pull up from my position on the floor and stand tall. “You ruined yourself, Christian.”
Oliver’s by my side and crosses his hands over his chest. “Get out of my sight. Now.”
Christian returns to his room, gets his bag and slinks out, never looking back.
A collective sigh sounds out in the room.
Moving back through the suite, I gather Jayne up and hug her tightly.
“Th-th-thank you. I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”
I stroke her hair with my hand and shush her. “It’s okay.”
Jayne’s tear-stained eyes gaze up at me. “He wasn’t the real deal. You are, Kendall.”
“So are you, Jayne.”
“Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m really psychic,” she says.
“We’ll work together. I promise. You can tell me what you’re going through any time.”
Her eyes move about the room and then back to me. “Would you think I’m daffy if I told you that the Princess of Wales is here in the room with us?”
I crane my neck and see my friendly spirit guide still standing in the corner. She’s so beautiful with her blonde hair cut stylishly around her regal face. Her blue eyes shine out and her smile is warm as she nods her approval at me.
“Yeah, she’s here. She’s been with me a lot on this trip.”
Patrick chuckles. “I’ll be damned. It is her.”
Taylor, Celia, Becca, and Jason all shrug at each other.
“I don’t see a thing,” Becca says. “Then again, I never do.”
Celia lets out a sigh. “They get to have all the fun.”
I walk over and stand directly in front of the tragically deceased princess. “Are you really Diana Spencer Windsor, Princess of Wales?”
A knowing smile crosses her face and she shakes her head at me. “No, I’m not. I thought I’d approach you in a way that wouldn’t frighten you.”
“Why would I be frightened?” I’ve dealt with so many ghosts, apparitions, and lost souls, what’s another one?
She laughs demurely. “I suppose I meant that I chose someone who wouldn’t annoy you as much as other possibilities.”
The spirit transforms again into a young man of maybe twenty years of age. He’s wearing a denim jacket, a black T-shirt, and worn jeans. When he turns his face into mine, it’s like I’m gazing into a mirror.
And it hits me.
A reality of sorts, only not.
A dream come true.
A connection with who I am.
I reach my hand to encircle my throat, hoping I can produce a sound.
“D-D-Daddy?”
Patrick gasps, as do the rest of my friends who are only hearing one side of this conversation.
The young man nods at me to let me know I have, indeed, figured things out.
“You’re my father! You’re Andy Caminiti!”
My birth father who died before I was born. My breathing becomes choppy and tears are close to spilling. I want to run into his arms and hug him, know the feel of his arms protecting me, but I’ll meet nothing but air.
“How long have you been with me?” I ask.
“Since you found my sister,” he tells me. “It was like there were some sort of spiritual bread crumbs that led me to you.”
I giggle nervously at his analogy. “I wish I’d known sooner. I would have talked to you.”
“I didn’t have the strength or energy to appear to you at first,” he says. “So, I stayed in the shadows and watched. When Anona reached out to me and said she couldn’t come far with you, I thought it was best to come to you in other forms to try and help you on your journey. Until you could see the real me.”
My father holds out a ghostly hand to touch my face. Even though there’s no contact, I feel him. A cold tingle tickles my cheek where the tears of happiness stream down.
“I’m so proud of you, sweetie.”
Patrick must sense I need him because his arms wrap around to support me.
Andy faces my boyfriend and says, “Take care of my little girl for me.”
“Always,” Patrick responds.