A Whispered Darkness (16 page)

I laid the book back on the edge of the cot gently. This was not a happy place.

Every time I touched a door handle I had to bite my lips to keep from screaming. The metal was cold to the touch. Cold enough that if I hung on too long, I believed it would burn me. We found hospital beds with sheets turned gray with age. A few still had strange copper stains that turned my stomach. I didn’t want to think about what those might have been.

Mom didn’t seem to care one way or another. She cooed over stoic photographs of men in starched shirts and women with waists too tiny to be healthy. Every once in a while I would find her standing, reading a paper or diary, stroking the necklace like someone pets a cat. It unnerved me even more than I already was. When I heard Grant stir downstairs, I begged her to break for lunch. I’d reached the end of my tether.

She agreed, and I went back to grab the last box from the room I had almost finished cleaning. The air was cooler here, and I stooped to grab the box from the corner of the room. Without warning I shivered, and the feeling of being watched grew unbearable. My stomach knotted. I knew I wasn’t alone anymore and it wasn’t Mom behind me. Slowly, I straightened and turned around. On the edge of the tiny cot, her head cradled in her hands, was a thin, dark-haired woman. With the little girl, menace had oozed off her form. This one pulled at my heart. Her shoulders shook with sobs I could just barely hear in my head. They were the gut-wrenching cries of someone who had lost everything. I reached out with one hand, the need to comfort her overwhelming.

Instead of going through, my fingers touched a solid mass. Cool and dry, like paper. Shock jolted through me, and the emotions that came from her were overwhelming. Pain. Sadness. Sickness. Hysteria. Fear. The fear was enough to bring me to my knees. At the weight of my fingers, she glanced up and my sorrow turned to terror.

The spirit’s mouth opened, a wide, dark “o” that stretched as if she would swallow the world. Her eyes were completely black, but not colored. They seemed not to be there: empty hollows sucking in light. The sobs stopped, and a muttering began in my head. I fell back with a stifled scream, but she didn’t let me go. Her hand clamped on mine, trapping it against her thigh. My fingers went numb from the mixture of static and cold that came from her.

“L-let me go.”

Mad laughter echoed through my head, and her form winked out. My hand whacked the edge of the bed and made the metal frame rattle against the wall. I fell backwards on the floor as tears streamed down my face. Mom walked in, her brow drawn into a worried frown.

“What’s the matter?”

My whole body quaked with the revulsion and fear that consumed me. “Didn’t you see—” I stopped as her expression hardened and changed again. It wouldn’t matter, she wasn’t going to believe me. I shook my head. “N-nothing. I j-just saw a spider.”

Mom made a disgusted snort and grabbed the box I’d come for. “Go eat some lunch and calm yourself. There’s sure to be more where that came from. Honestly, you’ve never been such a chicken before.”

I didn’t question her words or harsh tone. All that mattered was getting out of the room and downstairs. While I wanted to run away, I didn’t. I would have fallen if I’d tried. My body trembled, and my knees were jelly.

The whole house seemed darker, as if by opening those rooms we’d released something which should have stayed under lock and key. I poured some soda in a glass and gulped it, let the burning bubbles reassure me I was still here.

Despite the cool glass under my fingertips and the condensation that dampened them, I could still feel that papery flesh.

In a moment of weakness, I pulled my cell from my pocket and punched in Haven’s number. His grandmother answered the phone.

“Hello. This is Claire. Could I speak to Haven?”

“He’s out.”

“Oh, I didn’t think he might be working. He told me he had a weekend job.” I cleared my throat. “Could you have him call after?”

“Weekend job?” A surprised bark of sarcastic laughter made me pull the phone away from my ear. “Yes, his
job
. I’ll see if he’s gotten his chores done, and then he can call you.”

“Thanks. I mean, thank you, ma’am.”

The other end went dead and I put the phone down with a sigh. Haven had no weekend job. So what was he doing instead? I swallowed another large mouthful of soda and took a seat at the island. I should eat, but my appetite had left. Her eyes seemed burned into the back of my eyelids, and each time I blinked, my heart raced a little more…

Grant wandered in, rummaged through the fridge and turned around, opening a carton of orange juice and pouring it into his open mouth.

“Ew. Use a glass, man.”

He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Why? It’s not even touching my lips. No backwash, no foul.”

“Thanks. Now I’m not only terrified, I’m grossed out.”

“Terrified? Now what?”

Guilt weighed me down. Grant didn’t need new nightmares. I shook my head. “Mom and I have been cleaning upstairs, and she’s super into everything we find. It’s creepy.”

He put back the juice and grabbed a bagel off the counter, tossing it into the toaster oven. “You knew that would happen. What’s up there anyway?”

Despite my best intentions, I shivered. “Junk. Hospital beds. Papers and diaries and personal items.” I rested my chin on my palm. “Promise you won’t go up there alone.”

He raised a brow and dropped his chin. “Do I look stupid to you? Wait—you’re my sister, don’t answer.”

A laugh escaped, despite everything. If we kept our interactions with the upper floors to a minimum, maybe the spirits wouldn’t find their way downstairs. Even as I thought it, I knew it was a pipe dream. It was just a matter of time.

***

It was sad to think school had become my refuge, but as I leapt from the car Monday morning, it was the truth. The rules in high school were pretty easy. Stay in the background, and no one cared what you did. It was a philosophy I whole-heartedly subscribed to. The routine of class helped to calm me, and allowed my brain to become unattached from the turmoil of home. The two girls in my project group chattered about the latest school gossip through the first period. A rumor about two girls making out at a party on Saturday night. I nodded and scoffed at the appropriate times, but I didn’t pay much attention. Bryan tried to catch my eye, and I studiously avoided him between classes. I didn’t know what to say to him. The longer I put it off, the darker the look on his face became.

I thought I’d done pretty well, until right before the last period of the day. After third block, Bryan cornered me in the back hall on my way to French. His face screwed into an angry scowl. “What are you doing, Claire?”

“I was on my way to class.”

“You know what I mean! You can’t lead me on and expect me to disappear when you get what you want.”

Confusion made me stare. “I’m sorry, do you mean when I pushed you out of the house?”

“Do you really think this innocent act will work? You call me, apologize, ask me over to fix your problem. Then you flirt with me, and when you get what you want, you kick me out and throw yourself at Haven. It’s uncalled for.”

“Throw myself at Haven?” I raised a brow. “Were we in the same house? Did you hit your head? You came over and did me a favor, and then you were too into whatever the spirits were telling you. If I hadn’t kicked you out when I did, who knows what would have happened! I didn’t ask you there to torture you.”

“How would you know what they told me? Maybe it wasn’t bad. Maybe it would have helped you.” His expression turned to one of hurt.

“But it wasn’t helpful.”

He spoke over me. “Of course you didn’t. You were too busy flirting with Haven.”

“I was upstairs with you the whole time!”

He didn’t seem to have heard a word I said. “You know what the worst of all this is? I really care about you.” He moved closer, and I took an involuntary step backward. The intensity on his face unnerved me. He stared as if I was the only thing on the planet, and I had betrayed him.

“There’s been a huge miscommunication, Bryan. What you did for Grant and me this weekend was nothing short of fantastic. But that’s as far as my gratitude goes.” I took another small step back and pressed myself against the cool cinderblock wall. Bryan’s eyes flashed with anger. I’d never been afraid of a boy before, but Bryan was beginning to change that. His moods were like the wind.

“I would do anything for you, Claire. Yet you throw it back in my face by continuing to spend your time with Haven.”

“I don’t understand what talking to Haven has anything to do with our friendship.” I straightened my spine and took a deep breath. I’d faced worse things than a jealous teenager. “Or what it has to do with you at all, actually. We’ve had this discussion before.”

He stared. “You don’t? It’s a betrayal. He’s my enemy.”

The note from him flashed in my mind. My temper rose. “You aren’t my mother or my boyfriend, Bryan. I can speak to whoever I want. He’s been nothing but nice. Honestly, if we’re going to point fingers and get upset, I’d like to know what you have against him.”

“It’s personal. Family business.”

“Yeah, I figured. I know what split your family down the middle, and I think it’s ridiculous to carry old grudges this far. I’ll ask you to leave me out of it. And if you ever leave another note like that on my door, I’ll have to show it to someone.”

I turned away, but his hand seized my elbow. His fingers dug hard into my flesh and I winced.

“I doubt you know the full story. Ask Haven about his mother sometime. It should be quite an educational experience for you. Can’t you see? I’m trying to help you.”

“You’re trying to help
you.
I suppose you think I hadn’t caught wind of the whole Spirit Searchers plan?” He flinched, his fingers relaxing. I wanted to smack him. “I’m not stupid, Bryan. You need a better reason to be friends with me than to get in my house besides your little ghost hunt.”

“There are spirits there! You know it. You begged me to come fix Grant’s room for you!”

I jerked my arm away. “And I appreciate your help, but don’t mistake it for anything else. I know more about spirits and psychics than you think I do, Bryan. Some things need to stay as they are. Now, I’m going to be late for my next class, so get out of my way.”

I stomped off, my heart slamming in my throat and the skin beneath my backpack itching. At any moment, I expected Bryan to follow. With a tiny slip, my psychic barriers opened a bit and I searched for his mind.

Black, seething rage and frustration made my vision blank out. I gasped, throwing out my arms as my body tilted forward.

Strong arms closed around me and a soft “oof” followed. I blinked again, panting, my vision bouncing back. The familiar smell of cologne tickled my nose and I almost groaned.

“I know I’ve got the whole animal magnetism thing going on, but this is a bit ridiculous,” Haven said, his hands staying on my shoulders until I had my feet back under me.

My face burned. “Sorry. I…ah…tripped.”

“No problem. You okay?”

I resisted the urge to turn around and look at Bryan. All the same, Haven seemed to know my thoughts. His hands tightened on my arms, and his head turned in the direction I’d just come from.

“Do I need to speak to Bryan?” His lips were a tight line.

“Leave it,” I said. “We just had a bit of a disagreement.”

Haven’s gaze met mine. The feeling of being
seen
came over me again. Each time was more intense than the last, and yet I didn’t seem to mind. It made me feel safe. Secure.

The differences between the two of them couldn’t be more pronounced. But despite what my heart said, my head screamed a warning. Though I didn’t want to admit it, Bryan’s words pushed a button. Haven told me a great deal. But he hadn’t told me everything. Neither one of them were going to use me as a pawn in their private battle.

I pushed away from him and shot him a tight smile. “Thanks again for catching me before I face planted. I’ll see you later.”

Without giving him a chance to protest, I hurried around the corner and into my French classroom. Neither was in my class that period, for which I was eternally grateful. Right now, I needed a few minutes to get my shaking hands and breathing under control.

We had a substitute, who droned on about the reading assignment for the day. Mr. Clarence had written it on the board. I pulled it out, opening it to the assigned page, and pretended to read. For once, I was glad Haven took Spanish. I couldn’t have handled the questions. The words on the page blurred, slipping and sliding until I couldn’t make out anything. Bryan’s behavior scared me. What did he really want—me or access to the house? What did he think a ghost hunt there would accomplish?

Then there was the rage and frustration I’d seen in him. The thought of it made me shake all over again. Never in my life, not even those awful days when I’d been unable to shut out anything living or dead, had I experienced anything as intense. Never wanted to again.

There was nothing in the house for him to want. The boxes we’d managed to get through were full of strange things. Old books, notes, files, signage, bandages, and drawings. Some things seemed innocuous—monotonous lists of supplies, paperwork and blank forms never filled out. Some made my skin crawl for no reason. Like the porcelain dolls we’d found, and the drawings of contorted bodies and nightmare scenes done with amazing skill. Could he really be so obsessed with the paranormal that merely the idea of the haunted house put him over the edge?

Not likely. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered how much of the story I was missing. With an effort, I lifted the textbook and forced my eyes to the page. I needed to think about something else.

I needed more information.

Things came to a head after school a few weeks after the incident in the third floor. Grant had gone to the library in town with friends to work on a history project, and I waited at the curb for Mom. She’d promised to come and pick me up.