A Whispered Darkness (23 page)

Grant went to the pantry and returned with a box of mashed potatoes and a couple cans of veggies. “Despite this being healthy, I vote for canned and boxed items.”

I nodded. “All right, then.”

We made dinner and ate in relative silence. My mind bounced between the belief the food had been poisoned, and the thought perhaps the whole thing was an elaborate ruse designed to suggest the idea. To make us more paranoid.

It worked.

Though I’d finally caught up on my sleep, I felt ancient. My brain refused to turn off, and the old fear I would lose it again swamped me. If I lost it here, my life was over, and so was everyone else’s.

We washed dishes, and by unspoken agreement, brought our homework to do downstairs. Neither of us wanted to be alone. We’d managed to spend as much time outside of the house as possible. Now, being here, I realized how much the thinning of the barrier between worlds affected it. Being with Haven, and living in the house and becoming more comfortable with myself, I’d been able to begin to come to terms with my gifts, despite my fears.

That came with a price.

Though I blocked them out, the presence of the ghosts in the house still made me flinch. The longer we stayed, the more I could feel them. The souls flickered around us, pacing and waiting. We turned on the television while we worked, but half my attention stayed focused on them. They were stronger now. I didn’t know if that was because of the approaching holiday or because they were wearing us down. It could have been both.

One in particular kept walking past the doorway. I didn’t think Grant noticed until I heard him curse.

His eyes were riveted on the doorway, where a filmy figure of a boy, a little older than him, hovered. He was dressed like a newsboy, complete with tweed cap, though he faded out at the knees.

His eyes burned with intensity and were much darker than they should have been, though they weren’t black like the others. His lips twisted into a snarl, and a low rumble echoed by us.

“Ernest Levingworth,” I said, the name coming to me without my choosing. “Stop it.”

The hate on his face grew, and he moved forward. As soon as he did, the temperature dropped, and fear replaced the rage on his face. He winked out, as quickly as he had come.

My heart stuttered, and I wondered what else was there.

“Shit. Is that what it’s like all the time for you?” Grant rubbed a hand over his face.

“Only when they want to be seen.”

“Why would he want to be seen right now?”

I tapped the charm we’d made for his bracelet. “EL. Ernest Levingworth. I think our lie has been discovered.”

He blanched. “What does it mean?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

“Is anything else going to make an appearance?” The temperature in the air dropped even more. Faint white puffs plumed in front of our faces.

With a groan, I nodded. “I’m thinking yes.”

I got up and moved closer to Grant. Everything in the house paused, still as death. The air bit into exposed skin, and something around us shifted. My entire body jerked at the sensation, as if I’d stuck my finger in a light socket for an instant. I refused to open myself up and look at it.

I wanted to. Whispers started, barely audible, around me.

Claire.

Help us. We need you.

Just a tiny peek will tell you everything you want to know.

All the answers.

I covered my ears, but they continued, growing louder though muffled. They wanted me to look at them so badly.

I squeezed my eyes shut, curling into a crouch. Vaguely, I was aware of Grant moving beside me. He spoke, but it was a whisper from a distance against the mumbling crowd pressing in on my brain.

Listen to us and it will stop.

You
must
help us.

A dull ache formed at the base of my neck, working its way up by skull. Like fingers, squeezing.

It isn’t us. Not our fault.

We need you. You’re our last hope.

Listen.

Listen.

LISTE—

Something warm touched me, and the almost unbearable pain began to drain away in dull throbs. My eyes fluttered open. Haven knelt in front of me, chest heaving and water dripping from his nose. His eyes were wild with panic and bright with moisture.

“Haven? W-what are you doing here?”

“I was searching, and then the vision changed. You’re okay. One of you is okay.”

His words slurred with panting breaths and fear. He pulled me toward him, his arms squeezed me tight. Water soaked into my clothes, but I didn’t care, as long as he held me. His touch chased the pain away, helped warmth to seep back into my limbs. His words finally registered, and I pushed away enough to look at him.

“One of us is okay?” Grant stood in my field of vision, pale but fine. “Who else are you worried about?”

A shudder passed through him. “The home called. My mom is missing.”

“Oh no. When? What happened?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. They said she packed a bag. There is food missing from the kitchen. She planned it. I was out in the woods looking for her. I thought maybe she’d be where we found her before. I reached out to try and have a vision of where she might be, and instead I got slammed with a vision of you, and the ghosts pressing down…”

His voice trailed off, and I knew I didn’t want to hear what the ending would have been without his interference.

“Anyway, you’re all right. I can’t leave you here, but I have to go for Mom.”

I grabbed his shoulders. “We’ll help. Whatever they would have done, they can’t try the same thing again. I’ll be fine. Your mom is more important at the moment.”

I was ashamed to admit that any excuse to focus on something else, to get away from the house, was welcome.

Haven pressed a hard kiss to my lips. “Thanks. Just be careful. If you’ve got any extra flashlights, we’ll take them too.”

Haven did his best to seem calm, but he shifted from foot to foot, glancing out at the increasing drizzle with alarm. Tonight was not a good night to be lost, or be looking for someone who was. If we weren’t careful we’d end up hurt, or pass right over her without even knowing it.

I pulled the hood of my coat over my head as we went outside.

“I’ve already covered most of the way between your house and mine. I haven’t checked in the direction of Bryan’s house yet.”

“I’ll do it,” I volunteered. “He’s less likely to arrest me if he finds me wandering past his house.”

“All right. Grant, you can search in between with me. We’ll meet back on the porch in an hour. Call if you need help. If your cell doesn’t work or gets lost, yell. Someone will come. And don’t do anything stupid.”

***

Grant and I got back first. We were soaked through, cold, and I had found nothing. Grant found a hair tie, which could have been hers or one of a hundred other girls’. I checked my phone’s display again. We’d both been late, but Haven was working on a good twenty minutes.

“Do you think he’s found anything?”

“He’d have called,” Grant said. Worry creased his forehead, as we both listened for a shout and scanned the darkness around us.

Finally, Haven emerged from the inky blackness around the circle of porch light right as I decided it was time to go after him. Something was bunched in his arm, and he held it against his chest as if it was precious. My heart plummeted.

Next to me, Grant drew a sharp breath.

“I didn’t find her,” he said. “Only her jacket and locket.”

I pulled him inside the door, down the hall and into the kitchen. He sat at the table like a zombie; his eyes stared off into space. I couldn’t tell if it was shock, or some sort of vision, or a combination. Gently, I pried the jacket from his arms and set it on the table. When I looked at my hand, rose-colored liquid darkened the lines on my palm.

Blood.

“Haven! What else did you find? Are you hurt?”

He blinked, his gaze focused on my face. “Hurt?”

I held out my hand.

“It’s on the jacket. I noticed when I picked it up.” His words were dull. “I was supposed to go see her tomorrow. I didn’t suspect a thing.”

“You aren’t responsible for this.” I rinsed off my hands.

“I’m a freaking psychic. What good is having the ability to see the future when you either can’t do a damn thing about it, or you don’t see the one thing that would help someone you love?”

There was no way to answer him. I kept hold of his hand and pulled one of the other kitchen chairs nearer. “You’re asking the girl who talks to the dead, remember? I don’t have an answer. Remember, you didn’t fail tonight.” I cupped his cheek in my hand, wiping at some of the rain dripping from his scalp. “You rescued me. We’ll find your mom. But right now, it’s dark and wet, and getting yourself sick won’t help anyone. Maybe we should try driving around town.”

Some of the tension left his face. “No. The cops are driving the streets. There’s also an alert going across the late night news. They told me to go home, to make sure she doesn’t come there. But I know she won’t.”

“How?”

Finally he looked at me, and I almost wished he hadn’t. “Because when they went in her room, there was a picture of this house, from when it was the Home, sitting on the ottoman.”

Haven stayed the night at the house with us, mainly because I wouldn’t let him out of my sight. I knew if I sent him home, he wouldn’t stay there. He’d be out again in the dark and end up hurt, lost, or worse.

Monday morning we were up early, out to search around the house before school started. The sky was overcast and barely lighter than the previous day. After an hour, we still didn’t have anything to find. Mom appeared just as we came out of the forest, a serene, unsurprised look on her face.

“I’m so sorry to hear about your poor mother, Haven.”

He stood back, watching her with a guarded expression. My hand crept to his. She came down the porch steps, her car keys swinging in her fingers.

“Has there been any sign of her at all?”

Her tone mocked us, and I clenched my hands into fists. The urge to smack her almost overwhelmed me.

“There will be. She can’t have gotten far,” Haven said in a flat, emotionless voice.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll find her eventually. Like you said, how far could she really have gotten, after all?” Her head tilted and she shrugged. “In any case, it looks like more rain soon. Time for school.”

After a brief pause, Grant trudged forward and I turned to Haven. “I know you won’t, but please go home and rest a while.”

He nodded once, but didn’t meet my gaze. I shook a finger at him.

“I mean it! Don’t make me kick your butt.”

A tiny quirk of his lips cheered me.

“I’ll think about it.”

“It’s better than nothing I guess.”

Mom called my name.

“You better go. I’ll see you later, okay?” He attempted a smile and failed.

“I’d stay, but she’s taken off the whole week. No chance of skipping out this time. But call or text if you need me and I’ll do my best.”

He squeezed my hand, pressed a kiss to my knuckles, and released me. “You better get going. I’ll text you and I’ll go home. Promise.”

As I headed for the car, I wondered whether Mom’s plan to stay home had anything to do with this. It seemed too convenient.

“Wait, Claire.” Haven jogged up to me and grabbed my hand. “Here. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I contacted Cain. He’s waiting for you to call this number and set up a time to meet with him.”

I wrapped my fingers around the slip of paper he pressed into them and nodded. “I’ll call later today.”

He nodded, then watched as I headed for the car. Our book bags were already loaded into the back seat. I slid in and tried not to notice the pleased expression on Mom’s face. Or the way her eyes scanned the surroundings the whole way to school.

She didn’t know where Haven’s mom was either. That gave me hope.

***

Grant slid his lunch tray next to me and took a seat. He played with his food, mumbling answers to my questions. Judging from the worried glances he kept sending my way, something big was up.

With a sigh, I put down my sandwich. “Quit poking at your food and tell me.”

“You’re going to get mad. I’m mad.”

“Grant. Just tell me.”

He shook his head, hunching forward. “You remember that girl who disappeared?”

“Melanie, right? Why?”

“There are some details I found out. Maybe they aren’t important, but…” His voice trailed off and he stared into his plate.

“Go on.” Apprehension tied my stomach in knots. I shoved my lunch back in the bag, my appetite gone.

“She disappeared at a Halloween party. The annual bash Bryan’s family hosts. He’s got a huge house and yard. He disappeared during the party for a good hour. Apparently no one has ever made the connection that Bryan
and
Haven were gone. They all focused on Haven.”

His jaw clenched in anger. “We asked him for help. Can you believe that?”

“You don’t know what happened that night. As much as I dislike it, we have to give Bryan the benefit of the doubt.”

Grant glared at me.

“Just because we’re Team Haven doesn’t mean Bryan is a murderer.”

Grant snorted. “Yeah, well, my bet’s still on him. I’m going to go get a bag of chips.”

He walked off, and two seconds later a shadow cut across the table, making my skin crawl.

“Why the gloomy face?” Bryan dropped into the seat next to me.

I scanned my eyes across the cafeteria searching for Grant. He stood in the lunch line, talking to Carlos and Jeremy. They took two more steps and disappeared into the register area, out of view.

“Go away, Bryan. We have nothing to talk about.”

“We could talk about Friday.”

I crossed my arms. “Not unless you’re going to tell me you’re going to the party your parents are throwing and give up on this ridiculous ghost hunt idea.”

“The only thing stupid about it is your attitude.” Bryan snapped. His good mood evaporated.

“That’s debatable.” I snorted and picked up my sandwich. “Why aren’t you helping to host this party? From what I hear around school it’s the place to be.”