A Whispered Darkness (17 page)

The buses pulled out, and I dropped to the pavement with a sigh.

“Need a ride?” Haven sat down next to me. “Or someone to talk to?”

I scrubbed my face with a hand. “I can walk home.”

He snorted.

“Well, I could. I didn’t say it was a good idea.”

Haven stayed silent. The air was beginning to hold the chill of fall, and my sweater wasn’t warm enough. I wanted to lean into his warmth, but I didn’t.

“Are you going to tell me what’s eating at you?” Haven asked, his voice almost a whisper.

A bitter laugh surprised me. “I have so many things taking chunks from me, I feel like a piece of meat in a piranha attack.”

“Not a pretty visual.”

I shrugged.

He fell silent. Somehow, his silence coerced me into spilling my guts. “My life is an even bigger disaster than it was before we moved here. Which is saying a lot.”

Tears threatened, and I sniffed. “Mom is gone. I can’t tell anymore if she’s even still in there. That’s how well the spirits have dug into her. Like a tick. Grant’s better, but now I can’t sleep. The dreams…” My mind flooded with images I didn’t want to remember and I ground the heels of my hands into my eyes. My voice caught. “They hurt like a physical pain.”

“What can I do to help?”

I paused, unsure I wasn’t making a big mistake. But Haven was a part of my life I could try to get a handle on. “Please tell me the truth, Haven. Where do you really sneak off to?”

As fast as he’d offered comfort, he withdrew. His arm held me close, but the warmth was gone. Tears leaked from beneath my eyelids as my heart hit the pavement.

“Forget it. You don’t have to tell me. After all, we’re not dating. We’re just
friends
. Secrets are perfectly acceptable.”

The words fell like poison from my mouth, and I pressed my fingers against my lips before anymore slipped out. I couldn’t look at him, and I suddenly couldn’t stand his touch either. I got up, needing to be away from everyone.

“Claire!”

I didn’t turn. I kept walking, my gaze fixed on the cement, my feet moving as fast as they could carry me. I don’t know when I started to run, I only knew there was a wild feeling trapped in my chest and it needed to let loose, or I would wind up the same as before, my mind open and laid raw for the world.

It wouldn’t happen again. Not this time. I jogged until I was so out of breath the cool air stung my lungs, then I slowed. The unexpected run had taken the edge off my feeling of trapped panic.

A car slowed behind me, then pulled into a crawl next to me. Haven rolled down the window of the white mustang. “Claire, this is stupid. You can’t walk all the way home.”

I ignored him.

“Claire!”

I sped up and he revved the engine, roaring down the road in front of me. Disappointment flooded me. Somewhere deep down, I’d hoped he’d try harder. At the last minute, he whipped the car into the driveway in front of me. The engine died and he climbed out of the car. His face drew into a frown.

“Claire Mallory, you are one of the most confusing girls I’ve ever met.”

I braced myself for the rest of the diatribe that would end in some crushing put-down.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You are also the only girl I’ve ever felt like this around. I can help, but I can’t fix all your problems. But I can fix one.” He sighed and ran both hands through his hair. “I see you, Claire, all the time. In my present and my future. It’s part of the reason I’ve tried to keep from getting too close to you. And part of the reason I can’t seem to stop myself.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“I liked you when I saw you the first day. You were sweet, funny, and you were nice to me. Then I got to know you, because you didn’t have any use for the way the others ignored me. I liked you.
A lot
. I think that’s pretty clear.”

“I got all this, Haven. What are you trying to say?”

“I want to date you, Claire.”

Confusion warred with pleasure. I chose to focus on the way he’d sidestepped my question. “How did we get here? What does this have to do with where you disappear to?”

“We’ve both been keeping secrets. Every time I look into the future to see where you and I end up, there’s a big fuzzy blur. It always starts with telling you my secret, so I just didn’t.” Haven stretched out one hand. “You want to what I’m hiding?”

Cautious, I stood there, thinking about it. I didn’t want to lose Haven’s friendship, and whatever else he might be offering but I couldn’t continue wondering either. He was willing to answer my questions when it was clear he didn’t want to. Many emotions traveled across his face, fear among them. Fear of me? Of what I might think? Having the roles reversed wasn’t as much fun as I’d imagined it might be. I took the hand he offered.

“Be prepared,” he said, tugging my hand. “It isn’t as bad as the rumors say. But it isn’t easy, either.”

I let him pull me to his car and climbed inside. He didn’t say anything, and I fiddled with my ring, spinning it around my finger, forming and discarding a thousand different sentences.

A few minutes later, he pulled into a paved driveway which opened into a large parking lot. I stared up at the faded red brick of the Pine Grove retirement home and bit the inside of my cheek. Dread and shame swirled in my belly and coated my tongue. This was what I asked for and I had to see it through.

He cut the engine and we got out, silently making our way to the door and inside. He nodded to the receptionist, who smiled warmly and chirped a greeting. She nodded to me. “Is this the girl you’ve been talking about?”

The tips of his ears turned as red as his cheeks. “Yes. Claire, this is Mrs. Pomeroy. Mrs. Pomeroy, Claire Mallory.”

She reached over the desk, giving me a firm handshake. Her smile remained kind, but there was a calculating glint to her eye. “I’m very pleased to meet you. Haven’s never brought a friend by before.”

I glanced back at Haven, but he offered no help. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Pomeroy.”

“You two run along.” She tapped her neatly manicured nail on the counter. The smile moved back to her eyes. “It will do her some good to see you with a young lady, Haven.”

“Um, sure. I’ll see you later,” he mumbled and seized my hand again. His palms were damp, betraying his nerves where his expression did not. My heart ached for him. Whoever this was, they were important to him.

Mrs. Pomeroy’s words echoed in my head.
The first person he’d brought? Ever? Big shoes to fill. Big expectations.

Nervous butterflies made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t understand what kind of judgment he thought I might pass on this experience. I was terrified he would be right—this might be a test I’d somehow fail.

The halls smelled like old people, perfume, and disinfectant. Despite that, it was neat and clean, and lacked the depressing miasma of melancholy that sometimes hovered inside such places. At the end of a short hallway, Haven took a left and stopped in front of a yellow door decorated with a brass number twenty-one and a framed picture of a mountain.

“Last chance to run, Claire.” His voice cracked when he said my name. His fingers ruffled his shaggy hair, and he kept his eyes locked on the shiny metal numbers.

My fingertips brushed his cheek. “Haven.”

He didn’t look up. I slid my palm against his face and gently forced him to look at me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he stared into my eyes, and I had the curious sensation of falling. Doubt still lingered in the shadowy places of his mind. My lips twisted into a crooked smile. “Everyone has secrets, Haven. Some good, some bad. I’m privileged you would share this one with me.” I inhaled and exhaled slowly. “And I suppose that I owe you an explanation too.”

“That’s not why I brought you here.”

I released him. “That’s why I’ll tell you. I shouldn’t have pushed you in the first place.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “You are a strange bird, Claire Mallory.”

“So they tell me.”

He took another deep breath, turned the knob, and opened the door. Inside, the walls were a soft baby blue. The furniture was what Mom called “early attic,” but it was well kept, and pictures hung everywhere. A thin woman with streaks of gray in her honey-colored hair sat in an armchair, a romance novel pinched between two fingers.

“Haven!” She slid a bookmark into the page and jumped up, wrapping her arms around him. This close, I could see the resemblance.

He returned her hug and pulled away, his face flushed again. He motioned to me. “This is—”

“Claire Mallory.” She enveloped me in a brief hug, a brilliant smile on her face. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.”

He didn’t seem the least bit surprised she knew my name. I smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Elliott.”

A frown appeared. “I’m Lenore Pearson.” Her eyes seemed far away. “But I suppose I was Elliott once. A long time ago. At least, Vale says it’s true.”

Vale? Who was she talking about?

Haven touched her arm and she blinked, her smile returning. “Take a seat, please! Tell me how things are going. Haven only tells me what he thinks I need to hear.”

She scooted an ottoman from in front of the armchair and perched in front of us. “So what brings you here? I doubt it’s a social call.”

Haven shifted in his seat, his fingers worrying the piped edging of the couch. “We need to ask you a question, Mom, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her smile turned softer, and she patted his hand with a sigh. “Honey, I know you wouldn’t. You are—”

Her head tilted, and her gaze softened, stared out between Haven and me to some place far beyond the plaster of the wall. Her expression changed to one so sad it made my heart squeeze. A tear escaped down the woman’s face, and her shoulders slumped.

“It’s time, isn’t it, Vale? Why does it always come back to this?”

Haven caught my eye and gave a tiny shake of his head. Neither of us moved. Slowly, Mrs. Elliott’s face turned to me. Her thin fingers curled around my hand squeezed them tightly.

“I’m not always here, you know. Most of the time, I’m somewhere else.”

“Where?” I whispered, despite the dread.

“Everywhere. Nowhere. That’s what it’s like once you let it inside. Once you let it touch your mind.” Her eyes focused on my face as her hands tightened to the point of pain. “You must not allow it inside, Claire. You think you’re weak. The time you spent with the psychiatrist, you think you did something wrong…It’s not what you think. You’re stronger than the rest of us. So much stronger. You have to believe it. It’s all about belief. Always has been. You can’t imagine the consequences if you can’t do this.”

Ice ran through my veins. There was nothing faraway or insane in Mrs. Elliott’s eyes. They were the clear, sane eyes of someone who had seen something horrible. And I knew if I asked, Mrs. Elliott would show me.

I didn’t ask. I had a pretty good idea what I would see. I’d been seeing a version in my sleep for days. I knew right now, I didn’t want the reality. Not yet.

Mrs. Elliott smiled, and one hand cupped my cheek before falling away. “You see? You’re already so much further than I was. I believed too much too soon, and here I am.”

She tilted her head again, her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them again, it was clear she was back in the fog that clouded her sanity most of the time. Something or someone had broken the barrier between reality and vision in her mind, and she couldn’t distinguish between them anymore.

“What were we talking about?” A crease formed between her eyebrows and she glanced between Haven and me with an anxious frown. “I went away again, didn’t I?”

I smiled. “You did, but you’re back now. How about some lunch?”

From the corner of her eye, I saw Haven blink and then a small smile flicker across his mouth. When his mom jumped to her feet to slide into some shoes, his hand slid across the couch to touch mine.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

I stood next to the car, my hands thrust into the pockets of my coat. The wind played with my hair. I stared at the building we’d left, my head cocked to the side.

“What are you thinking about?” Haven leaned against the passenger door next to me.

I didn’t look at him. “You are much more than anyone gives you credit for.”

“More what?”

Shrugging, I glanced at him. “Just…more.”

He reached out; his fingertips grazed my cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you for being so nice to Mom. I appreciate it.”

“Your mother is a sweet woman.”

“Sweet, but not on the planet.”

“No.” I struggled to put my thoughts into words. “I think she’s too aware of everything. Talking to her, I could tell the barriers that keep the supernatural and the normal worlds are gone. Like someone tore them down. Now she drifts wherever the moment takes her, and she doesn’t know what’s there and what isn’t.”

Haven rubbed a hand over his face and released a long breath. “You can see it too. For so long, I thought I’d made it all up to feel better.”

“Only one thing I don’t get. Well, two.”

“What?”

“Who is Vale? And why here? Why isn’t she at home? She doesn’t seem like she’s a danger to herself.”

His shoulders sagged. “We tried at home for a while, but she wanders sometimes. Once we searched all day and found her eight miles in the woods. Afterward, the home seemed like a better choice. As for Vale…I think he’s my father. Or was. I think he’s dead now.”

“You’re not sure?”

One shoulder lifted then fell as he studied the ground intensely. “Mom never talked about him much, but she talks
to
him all the time. I think he’s dead and watching over her. Sometimes, I think even I get a whiff of him occasionally. But he’s never made himself clear to me.”

I giggled, then laughed until tears streamed down my cheeks. Haven stiffened, his frown slicing across his face. “Really? You think this all a joke?”

I shook my head and caught at his arm. “We’re quite a pair, Haven. My mother is a divorcee who’s obsessed with a cursed haunted house whose ghosts who want to eat us. Things from nightmares want to suck out my soul. Your mom already knows what waits for us, but can’t tell us, and your grandmother is in denial about everything. We’re practically a match made in heaven!”