Dark Spirits (3 page)

“It’s telling me I’m being closely watched, and there are dark spirits who are in the middle of this. Some are twisting truth with lies to get others on their side because they don’t like what’s going on. At least, that’s what I think.” I sat back, seeking the comfort of Nathan’s arms.

“Sounds right,” Nathan agreed. “I hate to say this to you two, but it would be best if you only hung out with us during the day in a populated place.”

I nodded to the frowns on both their faces.

“I’m not afraid of them,” Tree said, sounding pissed. “And if we can help protect Paige, I want in on it.” He sat up, and Carrie moved to the arm of the loveseat.

“No way,” Nathan and I said in unison. We looked at each other and smiled, amused at our mirrored reaction.

“I know Tree and I can’t cast out a dark spirit,” Carrie said. “But you can teach us how to fight.” She must have seen the frustration in my face because she quickly added, “It’s not like we’d put ourselves in a situation where we’d have to fight them, but just in case we had to. Ya know.”

I couldn’t believe she was asking us this. I’d already explained to them how incredibly dangerous it would be to get entangled in this whole mess. I thought it had sunk in, but apparently not. It bothered me that they didn’t take me seriously the last time.

“I already talked to you two about this,” I harshly said. “They’re stronger than you.”

“But we could still help you by trapping them. We could maybe even detain and interrogate them until you found the incantations,” Tree argued, which irked me because he chose his stubbornness over his own safety. Not to mention, he’d seen too many superhero, vigilante movies and was equating our situation with fantasy. I knew then I’d have to demonstrate how inept their abilities would be against an attack by a dark spirit.

In one swift move, I stood in front of him. Carrie yelped and hopped off the loveseat. Before Tree could say a word, I lifted him by his waist and threw him on the floor. The house shook, and the windows rattled in response to my forceful gesture. I restrained his arms above his head and held his wrists together. With my other hand, I placed my palm on his forehead. I looked up to Nathan’s smiling face and Carrie’s gaping mouth.

Tree started laughing.

I looked down and pushed his head into the brown carpet.

“Okay, Paige,” he said. “I get your point, but what about my legs? I could totally disable your position with the lower half of my body.”

“True,” I said. “Being that you’re a giant and all. However, I would have broken your legs before I took you down.” I grinned and moved my shoulders back and forth in a ha ha dance.

 “All right, you got me,” he said, laughing again.

I tightened my grip on him. “Say uncle.”

“Oh,” Carrie said, moving to Tree’s side, “I want to tickle him. Nathan, hold his legs down.”

“Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!” Tree hollered before Carrie even touched him. Then the threats started when Carrie knelt next to him, motioning Nathan over. “I. Swear. To. God. Carrie. I will get you back, and I will not stop until you piss yourself.”

Carrie hesitated, hands hovering over his stomach. She made a pouty face and rose. “That’s not fair,” she said, nudging his side with her Doc Marten sandal. I felt Tree relax and took his hand, pulling him to his feet.

“I have to admit, Paige,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “You did surprise me.”

“Good.” I smiled, pleased they finally got it. I turned to see Nathan’s reaction, but he wasn’t in the room. Instead, he was standing in the hallway that divided the kitchen from the living room with his cell phone in hand. His eyebrows were knitted together, his thumbs moving rapidly across his key pad. “Who are you texting?” I asked. When he didn’t respond, I looked at Carrie and Tree. They both shrugged. I had the sudden urge to snatch the phone from Nathan but decided not to, thinking maybe he didn’t want Carrie and Tree to know. That would make sense, and I couldn’t blame him for it. In fact, I preferred it that way. The less they were involved in our world, the better.

I followed Carrie and Tree outside into the cool, clear night, not surprised when Nathan suddenly appeared beside me. The moon reminded me of a bright white bulb, shining its light around us, dimming the stars. As they climbed into Tree’s brown and white International Scout, I scanned the surrounding forest but saw nothing out of the ordinary. A couple of raccoons entered the forest, and an owl was perched high in a spruce tree. We waved good-bye and watched as they drove down the desolate street.

“Who were you texting?” I asked when Nathan embraced me. I could feel the warmth of his body against mine, the palm of his hand gently pressing on the small of my back. His soft lips touched mine, his tongue slyly darting inside my eager mouth, and as I matched the intensity of his kiss, my stomach flipped. He scooped me in his arms and carried me into the house, our lips never breaking contact.

But then a vibrating sound came from his pocket. He set me on the couch and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He read the message and frowned.

“Who is it?” I asked, watching him texting back.

He didn’t respond.

“Are you going to answer me?”

He slipped his cell phone back in his pocket and looked at me. “It’s somebody who knows where Aosoth is.”

“Who?”

“Her name is Ameerah, and I have to go meet her now.”

I tried to remember if he had ever mentioned somebody by that name, and I couldn’t recall a time when he had. I gave him a funny look. “You’ve never mentioned anybody by that name before, and when did you start talking to her?”

The air between us swelled with anxious energy. He glanced at the door. “She contacted me this morning when you were in the shower,” he admitted and quickly added when I opened my mouth in protest from keeping this from me. “I was going to tell you, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust her.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I still don’t know. That’s why I’m going to meet her right now to find out.” He glanced at the door again.

“Can I come? I’d like to meet her.” I couldn’t believe he didn’t tell me about her, even if he wasn’t sure he could trust her. I mean, I would have told him regardless of the situation.

He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“So.” I shrugged. “I can take care of myself.”

 “Yes, I know, but you’re still acclimating into your immortality, and your emotions are heightened exponentially. You need to learn to master them and--”

“What do my emotions have to do with any of this?”

“Everything,” he said, glancing behind him at the clock on the wall. “I have to go.”

I stood. “So that’s it? You’re going to go without giving me the courtesy to explain why you think my
emotions
”–I made air quotes– “might put me in danger?” I couldn’t believe he was seriously going to leave without resolving this issue. But I knew he was by the way he kept inching his way toward the door. I waved my hand in the air, shooing him away. “Just go.” I headed out the room. “I’m going to go take a bath.”

“If you were to come, Paige, I’d be too worried about your safety, to focus on anything else.”

“I understand,” I said dryly. “Go do whatever you have to do.” I wanted to say more, but bit down on my tongue instead, repressing a whirlwind of feelings that gathered in a ball of liquid mass around it: frustration, hurt, anxiety, and understanding. I honestly understood his reasons for not inviting me along, but I still wanted to be a part of it. I knew though, he needed to leave, and I didn’t want to keep him here any longer.

 I climbed the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice faltering. “I hate doing this to you.”

I opened my mouth to respond to his pleading voice, but no words came out.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” he said, as I continued up the stairs.

 I lifted my hand above my shoulder and rounded the corner, disappearing from his sight. I heard him release an unsteady sigh, and then the click of the door shutting.

Chapter Three

I stared at the steam rising in waves in front of me. The scent of lavender wafted off the white foamy bubbles. Slowly, I inhaled, relaxing every muscle in my body. Flickering in the darkness were four candles, one on each corner of the marbled sunken tub. Each represented in color the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. Green, yellow, red, and blue. I had burned some incense I created out of sandalwood, cypress, and pine resin to increase my psychic powers. The lingering scent mingled with the lavender, putting me into a semiconscious state.

During the summer, Anwar taught me a little bit about how to induce my psychic abilities, which he believed to be a connection to the spiritual world. So that coupled with my bloodline of witches made me what? A witch with psychic powers?

I didn’t know.

My whole summer mostly consisted of arduous tactical training like hand-to-hand combat and undermining my opponent physically and mentally. I also had to learn incantations. All this was done on one of the Swedish archipelagos. A deserted island. So I really had no time to delve into psychic, witchy stuff, thanks to Anwar, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t mentioned that already.

When we arrived on the island in a private plane, courtesy of Anwar’s eccentric friend, Shem, the first thing that captured my eyes was the pink shimmer. It was like staring at a living snow globe filled with pink glitter swirling around the barren island. Close by was a colony of seals basking in the sun. We trekked across the island for half a mile and made camp with two huge sturdy tents big enough to fit the entire bottom floor of my house in it.

At first, I wasn’t thrilled with living out of a tent. I mean, how would I take a shower? But when Nathan showed me a beautiful waterfall cascading down a crevice of hidden rocks, I began to lighten up. He took care of everything, and I didn’t lack in anything, Nathan made sure of it.

Every day I trained. I swear, Anwar should have been a drill sergeant. Constantly, he tested me, and every once in a while, he did a surprise attack. One night, when I was in a dead sleep, whipped from the previous days training, physically and mentally, I awoke to something pressed against my temple. The tip of it felt round, cold, and hard.

I immediately reacted.

 My left arm swung up, knocking the object away from me. It clattered to the ground. Kicking my legs over, I slammed my foot into his stomach. Anwar stumbled backwards, tripping over a camp chair. At the same time, I leaped from the cot and kicked the pistol aside. Lifting the camp chair, I was poised on smashing it into his face.

No such luck.

He tripped me with his long legs, and I fell on my back, knocking the wind out of me. That memorable night taught me to break the legs on somebody larger than I. I needed to quickly incapacitate any advantages my opponent would have over me.

Once in a while Nathan and I would have some quality time alone. Hand and hand, we explored the rocky island. I was amazed at how huge and gray the rocks were. Some of them were as big as a three-story house. Whenever I had pictured a remote island, I imagined sprawling white, glittery sand, and lush green tropical forest. But the island we were on seemed like it had been coughed out of purgatory, straight into our world. There were some beautiful spots though. Also, the stars at night were so clear and bright, it gave the illusion you could reach up and pluck one out of the sky.

The stars . . .

Dropping all other thoughts, my mind honed in on the stars.

Now, I fell into a meditative state. My external surroundings dimmed. My heart rate and breathing slowed to a drowsy pace. I felt absent from my body, a spirit floating among the stars.

A hazy vision fluttered before me of a dark place. I couldn’t make out what or where it was, but I felt a strange pull toward it.

The sound of dripping water filled my ears.

Then the scene shifted, as if I were in a rail cart being rolled into a different room, reminding me of a haunted house ride at an amusement part. A whirl of whispering encircled me. I saw a room–an empty barn filled with hooded, dark ghostly figures. They were gathered together in a semi-circle, feverishly whispering:

“Paige Reed is now immortal, and the ‘old one’ has Solomon’s ring.”

“Have you heard what Nathan Caswell did to Aosoth?”

Someone cackled next to the empty stall, “She’s in the Sahara Desert, squirming in excruciating pain.”

Amused laughter echoed through the barn.

“He’s not through with her yet,” a voice called from the loft.

“She’s a bitch!” someone yelled, and the room filled with shushes.

“Be quiet.”

“What’s the plan?” a gravelly voice asked.

A tall, black-hooded figure floated toward the middle of the group. In unison the group stepped back like a retracting black wall.

The room fell silent.

“We either obtain the ring and destroy it. Or”–he moved his head, dramatically looking about, glowing eyes reaching out from the depths of his hood– “we destroy Paige.”

I gasped, and my hand flew out to the side of the tub, knocking a candle over.

“Crap.” I flung water out of the tub onto the purple bathroom rug where a small fire had ignited, dousing the flame. I reached over and pinched the flames out on the rest of the candles, silently thanking the elements for their assistance.

A few minutes later, I slipped into my black and white checkered boxer shorts and a white tank. I padded across the hall into my bedroom, twirling my hair into a messy bun. The green numbers on my digital clock blinked midnight.

The witching hour.

I wanted Nathan to be here, and loneliness gnawed at me. And then, just like that, fierce anger whipped through me. The back of my neck burned. I gnashed my teeth together, falling into a river of rapid, volatile thoughts, allowing it to suck me under.

If Nathan were here, I wouldn’t be dealing with this on my own. How could he do this to me? To us? We should be dealing with this together, not separately.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, attempting to rein in those unruly thoughts. I told myself those biting feelings were part of the immortal package. If I were human, the emotions coursing through me now wouldn’t be so sharp.

I knew one of my many tasks as a newborn immortal was to learn how to control my emotions because like an exposed nerve, we felt everything to the highest degree. I also knew that was what Nathan meant when he’d said I needed to master my emotions. So he probably thought I’d ruin the meeting with an emotional outburst. But he should know I would never . . .

I clenched my hands into a fist.

How could he even . . .

I must have been unconsciously biting the inside of my cheek because a metallic taste filled my mouth. I poked the tip of my tongue against it feeling a jagged break in the soft skin. It stung, causing me to pull my tongue back.

 How ridiculous.

As soon as that thought entered my mind, it eclipsed the angry ones. I took another deep breath. The heat in my face ebbed, and I slowly opened my eyes.

There.

I knew I could do it. But I still needed to seriously talk to somebody, but who could I tell besides Nathan?

Nobody.

I could call Anwar, but Nathan didn’t want him involved. I couldn’t blame him since Anwar had held information from us that could have made our life much easier. I could call Carrie and Tree, but I didn’t want them to have any part in this.

I sat on the edge of my bed and ran my hand over the cream silk comforter. I thought of one other person I could call.

 Brayden.

I had his cell phone number programmed into my cell, but unfortunately I accidentally ran over it with my Morris Mini back in March, right before I met Nathan. And besides, I shouldn’t be talking to Brayden anyway. Not after what he’d done the last time he was here.

I decided calling him would be a bad idea, and I wouldn’t talk to him unless he apologized to me. However, I had a strong feeling I’d be seeing him soon. He had promised after he proclaimed his love for me he’d be back this summer, and Brayden always kept his promises. I just hope he felt genuinely sorry for trying to force himself on me and being such a jerk.

Well, this sucked.

I yawned and glanced at the clock again. 12:14. I slid under the covers and heard the phone ringing downstairs. Half a minute later, the answering machine clicked on. After it beeped, Nathan’s voice filled the silence, asking me to pick up.

I didn’t move, reminding myself that if we were working together, I wouldn’t be lying here alone, wondering about those visions I just had. And then I heard him say he’d be home shortly.

I halfway debated on whether to stay up and wait for him to see what he found out, but imagined he’d wake me up to tell me. So I turned over and went to a happy place in my mind. Of course it was with Nathan when we were on the island, lying near the bonfire, watching the meteor shower in the clear black sky. Afterwards, we made passionate love, but before my mind wandered to that part, I had fallen fast asleep.

***

I awoke a little after eight the next morning with Nathan sound asleep beside me. I quietly stepped out of bed and from the room, softly closing the door behind me. After I brushed my teeth, I went downstairs and made coffee. I retrieved the paper from the porch and read it for a while, trying not to think about the creepy vision. My stomach growled, and I had a sudden craving for French toast. So I crisped bacon in one pan and made French toast in another, filling the house with yummy smells.

“Good morning,” Nathan said, entering the kitchen.

I didn’t look at him or respond, stewing because he hadn’t woken me up last night and wasn’t here when I needed him. I went to get the two plates off the counter, but then hesitated when I felt his strong arms curl around me from behind.

My weakness.

His arms.

I stood there, trying to ignore how amazing it felt to be encapsulated in his arms with his hard body against my back. I had to remind myself how wrong it was for him to not include me in his plans and how it made me feel. And the whole emotional thing . . . yeah, immortals’ feelings were on overdrive compared to humans. Yeah, I still hadn’t learned to control them. However, I’d never jeopardize my safety, and Nathan should know me well enough to know I’d never do that. But honestly, truth be told, Nathan was from the 1800s where men protected their woman, and women were viewed as meek and helpless. It also didn’t help that I had almost died. So yeah, I could give him the benefit of the doubt. But still. This wasn’t the 1800s, and I sure as hell wasn’t dependent on a man to fight my battles and was perfectly capable of holding my own.

“Are you going to talk to me?” he whispered in my ear, his warm breath brushing my skin, causing my body to arch against him.

“It depends upon you,” I said in a stiff voice.

He squeezed me in his arms and kissed my cheek. “I already told you why you couldn’t come with me last night. I’d be too worried about your safety to focus on anything else.”

Every muscle in my body tightened. I think he felt it because he released me and stepped back. I picked up the plates, ignoring the little voice in my head urging me to throw them across the room. Instead, I placed them on the table with a bang, causing several pieces of bacon to bounce onto the Formica table.

“I don’t want you mad at me, Paige,” Nathan said, pouring himself some coffee.

I gritted my teeth and whirled around. “Too late for that.”

We both sat, the air choked with tension. I refused to look at him, but out the corner of my eye, I could see him stealing glances at me.

He lifted his fork with a bite size piece of French toast stuck to the end. “This is good.”

I glared. “It should be. I bought the bread from the bakery, the eggs and milk from the farmer’s market, and the bacon from the frickin’ butcher.”

He raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his coffee. I had to admit that despite my anger toward him, I couldn’t help but think how cute he was.

A long silence fell between us while we ate. I had the newspaper beside me so I tried to focus on reading it instead of the sound of Nathan’s fork scratching against the plate as he cut into his French toast or him chewing for that matter.

An article caught my interest about a father in Portland who shot his family a couple nights ago while they were asleep. The case remained under investigation, but the man claimed he had no recollection of his actions, except for driving home and feeling a heavy pressure against his chest and then blacking out.

Something cold slithered into my stomach when I remembered Carrie telling us right before Aosoth had possessed her, she had felt the same thing as this guy had. I wondered if he had ever been involved in the dark arts. Unless, he was soulless. But regardless, this case seemed more like the workings of a dark spirit than of a guy with mental issues.

 “I saw the candles in the bathroom,” Nathan said, breaking the silence. “Did you do a ritual of consciousness?”