A Whispered Darkness (19 page)

I wiped some stray sauce from my fingers on a dishtowel while I thought about the answer. “No. Not really. But I will be.”

Grant leaned against the doorframe. “This place is way more complicated than I thought it would be.”

“You can say that again. I don’t know whether to deal with Bryan or this.” I swept my hand out, motioning to the house, “Or whether to ignore all of it.”

“Ignoring it hasn’t worked so far,” Grant grumbled. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What about you? How are you doing?”

He thought about it for a moment, and I noticed again how much older he seemed. He finally shook his head. “There are lots of things I don’t like, but I’ll be all right. School has evened out. I’ve found some friends. Mom and I have almost come to an understanding. The only problem is this place. It’s like living in a horror movie’s next shooting location.”

I laughed. “Nice.”

He shrugged. “It is, and you know it. Things go on here no one can explain. I don’t think anyone really wants to.”

Everything was dark. I flipped the light switch several times, but there was no response. No power. Thunder growled in the distance, the sound vibrating through the floorboards into my feet. Of course there would be a storm.

Haven stood with his back to me at the end of the hall. He muttered and mumbled, but I couldn’t make out the words. I wanted to help, but dread coiled in my belly, making my steps heavy.

I didn’t want him to turn around.

In a blink, I was within arm’s reach of him. In the darkness, it was hard to see details. He turned, his face in shadow.

“You came,” he said. His voice was a guttural snarl. “It isn’t enough to show up. You have to help me.”

“Of course I’ll help you.” I said. But I took a step back as I spoke.

His hands seized my shoulders and lightning flashed. Haven’s eyes were black holes, oozing sludge. His mouth opened, and shadows slithered out like tentacles, latching onto my clothes and hair. Each place they touched burned with cold.

“You have to save me.”

I screamed, struggling against his hold. My arms felt like ice formed where his hands clasped me. With a last desperate push his hands fell away. I stumbled, spun around and raced down the hall.

“Save me. Save
us
.”

He sounded as if he hovered just behind me, but when I glanced over my shoulder he stood in the same place, tendrils of smoke and shadow enveloping him.

The front door was closed, and I wrapped both hands around it and yanked. It didn’t budge an inch. Deep laughter surrounded me. The sound made my skin crawl and I whimpered as I pounded and kicked at the door. It wasn’t one voice, but many. Men, women, children—all faceless and not.

I gave up, turned and ran for the back door. But when I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I stopped. Mom, Grant, Haven, Bryan, the little girl, the woman upstairs and others I did not recognize were there, waiting. Their eyes black as pitch. Their lips moved in unison.

“There is no escape, Claire Mallory. You will save us. Must save us. You are one of us. The strongest.”

“No!” I screamed, then turned. I would have sprinted from the room, but I stopped when a large mirror, ornate and old, appeared on the wall in front of me. My blood ran cold, and I couldn’t move. In the mirror I saw myself.

Black eyes, dead face, and smiling.

***

I woke with a start, my arms cold on the bare wood floor of Grant’s bedroom. I blinked in the pre-dawn light filtering through his windows. There were wet trails on my cheeks and I brushed them away with a shaking hand.

The last image of myself in that mirror seemed burned into my brain. I glanced at the red digital numbers on Grant’s nightstand across the room. Five a.m. I’d gotten a few hours of sleep. More than any other night in the last week.

My nightmares only grew worse. After a week of sleeping only when I couldn’t hold my head up at night I’d tried sleeping in Grant’s room on the floor. The nightmares had stayed terrifying but repetitive the last few nights. That was over, apparently. Though the wards kept Grant safe, they did not do the same for me.

I rubbed a hand over my face. My body ached with the need for real, dreamless sleep. It led to some tense days in school, and today wouldn’t be any different. So far, I’d managed not to fall asleep for more than few moments in class. Thank God. I guzzled energy drinks until my hands shook, all the while telling Haven and Grant everything was fine. Mom hadn’t seemed to notice anything different.

I got up, making sure not to wake Grant. One of us should get to sleep until the alarm. I got dressed and headed downstairs, figuring I could gulp down some coffee and make breakfast.

I checked the calendar on the fridge. October 15th. Fifteen days since the dreams started. Over a week since I’d slept more than a few hours. A chill moved over me, and I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms. October was not a good month for those of us who saw spirits. People were more open to the paranormal, and the more people who believed and who were looking, the more paranormal events took place. Ghosts, or some of them, thrived on the attention and the energy. I closed my eyes, sent up a silent prayer for relief, and jerked my head up when I swayed on my feet, dangerously close to hitting the ground. I took a seat on a stool at the island and laid my head on my hands. My head felt incredibly heavy. Just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt anything.

Grant woke me when he came down for school, and I heard my own desperate whimpers echoing in my ears as the beginning of the nightmare faded into my subconscious for the moment.

***

We got to school, and I waved off Grant’s concern and headed for class. Haven greeted me, watching me closely as I sat down. I wondered if Grant had texted him. There wasn’t time for him to question me. Mr. Larsen started class immediately.

After almost two weeks, I suppose something had to break. One moment I held a pencil, ready to take notes. The next, I woke screaming, with Haven and Mr. Larsen white as sheets.

“I think you need to go to the nurse, Claire.” Mr. Larsen swallowed hard. “You sounded like someone was killing you.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Larsen.” Under everyone’s horrified stares, my entire body flushed. “I’m fine, really.”

Haven’s lips compressed into a tight line, and he held out one hand. “I’ll take her.”

Bryan leaned over. “I can go too.”

I barely heard him. Haven’s eyes didn’t leave my face. He wouldn’t let me get out of this. I sighed, slid all my stuff in my book bag, and headed for the door. The entire class seemed to release a breath when I stepped into the hall.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” His voice sounded hoarse. Like he wanted to yell, but just barely kept himself in check.

“Only a few sleepless nights.”

Haven cut a glance at me. “Try again. The truth this time. I knew something was up, but I assumed you’d tell me, seeing as we’re supposed to be dating.”

Hurt, anger, and worry twined themselves in his tone. I never thought not telling him details would hurt his feelings. I didn’t want him to worry, and the image of him, with darkness pouring from his lips still haunted me. I was afraid of what he’d think if I told him.

“The nightmares have gotten worse. I’m afraid to sleep. I thought I could handle it.”

He stopped in the middle of the hall, several doors down from the nurse. “You’re going to kill me. How am I supposed to help you if you won’t tell me anything?”

“Haven, you can’t save me from my dreams.” Maybe there were better things to say, but I was too tired. My brain could hardly keep up with the process of getting through the day. “It will get better.”

“When?”

I didn’t answer right away, and I saw fear creep across Haven’s expression. “Think, Claire. The more tired you are, the more likely it is the spirits in your house can get what they want.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They want you to crack again, I think. If that happens, they can get inside your head to their hearts’ content. They did it to my mother, and they’ll do it to you, if they get the chance.”

My brain struggled to keep up. “I still don’t see what good it would do. What is it they think I can do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they just want you there with them. In my dreams, there’s the sense they’re waiting for someone. They
like
adding souls to their numbers.”

“I’m well aware they enjoy having us around,” I snapped. “There’s nothing to do, Haven. I have to sleep to feel better, and I can’t at home. What am I supposed to do?”

Haven grabbed my hand and pulled me back down the hall, around the corner, and out the back door of the building. “If you can’t sleep at home, I’ll take you somewhere you can.”

I dug in my heels. “We can’t walk out. I’ve already skipped once. You said you weren’t going to be a bad influence, remember?”

He whirled around. “No one watches to door near the band room. They won’t even notice. Everyone will think you’re at the nurse.”

“I could go to the nurse.”

With a sigh, he relaxed his grip on my hand. “Are you going to go and sleep there?”

“I could try.” When he didn’t immediately throw me over his shoulder, I added, “They’ll call both our houses.”

“It doesn’t bother me. My grandmother will be gone until next Friday. She’s on a trip to Vegas with her friends.”

“I’m not going to skip again, Haven.”

He grabbed my hand and headed toward the nurse’s office. I followed, collapsing into a plastic chair inside the doorway. The nurse, a round woman with a ready smile, gave me a once over.

“It’s Claire Mallory, right?”

I nodded.

“Mrs. Wilton, I know I’m asking a lot, but I’m really worried about Claire. Can you call her house and see if her mother will let me bring her home?”

“You know I’m not supposed to.”

“Mrs. Wilton, you’ve known me since I was a baby. I’m not trying to pull a fast one, honest. I’m really worried about her.”

She looked up at the clock and then back at me. “What’s the matter, honey?”

“I don’t know. I can’t seem to stay awake in class. I’m not feeling right.” I laid it on thick, but I didn’t feel bad about it.

Mrs. Wilton glanced at the clock and then at me. “I’ll call your mother, Claire, and ask if you can go home with Haven. If she gives permission, I’ll allow it.” She pointed a finger at Haven. “I’ll call your grandfather and ask if he minds, since Lucille is out of town. Didn’t think I remembered, did you?”

“I knew you were on top of it.” He smiled. “Thanks.”

She rolled her eyes and picked up the phone. “You’ve got too much charm for your own good. If it weren’t for your quirks, you’d have the entire female population in tears.”

A shadow passed over Haven’s face as he sat down next to me. Anger on his behalf churned in my gut, my temper made quicker by fatigue. He reached over and draped an arm across the back of my chair.

My eyelids drooped, despite my irritation. Mrs. Wilton spoke brightly to someone named Lawrence on the other end. I assumed it to be Haven’s grandfather. The conversation was quick, and she hung up, redialing my phone number.

In the pause while the phone rang on the other end, she glanced to Haven. “Your grandfather had no problem with it.”

I heard a voice on the other end of the phone and knew Mom answered. Judging by the nurse’s face, she said a good deal more than just hello.

“Ah, well, I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs. Mallory, but I have Claire here in the clinic, and she’s feeling a bit under the weather. She’d like to be released early.”

There was a pause, and the nurse made non-committal grunts into the phone. Finally, she sighed. “Thank you, Mrs. Mallory. Have a good day.”

She hung up, and there was sympathy in her eyes when she looked at me. “She said it was fine as long as she didn’t have to come get you. I’m going to take it to mean it is fine for you to ride with Haven.”

“Sorry if Mom was abrupt, Mrs. Wilton. She’s had a rough couple months,” I mumbled.

The nurse clucked and shook her head. “Don’t go apologizing for her, my dear. She’s a grown woman and perfectly capable of taking responsibility for her own behavior.”

Her clipped tone surprised me. I wondered what Mom said. She waved a hand. “Now, get her home. She needs rest.”

Haven jumped from his seat. “Sure thing. Thanks.”

It took all my concentration not to trip over my feet, and I let him lead me to his car. He took my bag and dumped our stuff in the trunk while I climbed inside. An ache pulsed at my temples, and I rubbed my head.

Haven started the car and backed out. “We’re going to my house.”

“Okay.”

He glanced at me, brows raised with surprise. “You must be tired. No argument?”

I shrugged. “I’m too tired to complain. Just drive.”

Somewhere between the school and his house, I fell asleep. I didn’t remember anything until I woke up, curled into Haven’s side in the dark. We were tucked into his bed, still dressed. Dim light from a television set to a barely audible level flickered over Haven’s face.

“Hi,” I whispered.

He looked down and smiled. “Lovely to see you.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

He turned to look at the clock on his other side. “About fourteen hours, give or take. It’s a little after midnight.”

I groaned and buried my face against his chest.

“You needed it.”

Glancing back up at him, I rubbed a hand over my face. “Yeah, so I can be well-rested when my mother kills me.”

“You’re assuming she knows you’re here,” Haven said with a grin. He waved his cell phone. “However, your brother was all too willing to help. As far as your mother knows, you’ve both been camping with a group of friends from school all night.”

“Camping?” I stared at him. “She bought it? What about Grant?” The thought of him, alone, made my heart pound.

“Chill. He’s with Jeremy and Carlos. They’ve gone to a concert with Carlos’s older brother, and then they’re dropping him off. They won’t even get back until three or four in the morning. He’ll be all right for a few hours. You did have Bryan ward the room, after all.”