A Whispered Darkness (29 page)

My mind only focused on Haven’s name. I debated opening myself up and reaching out for him, even started.

Melanie managed enough energy to zap me. “Stop it. Why else do you think they allowed him in here? They aren’t stupid. Unlike some people.”

I kicked at the door, screamed at the top of my lungs. The walls absorbed the noise like a sponge. I slammed my knuckles into the door and let out a frustrated screech. “I am not going to die in this room like a rat!”

Melanie stuck her head out again. “He’s down the hall, but he looks confused. Keep going!”

I yelled his name, over and over, pounded the door with one fist, and rattled the knob with the other. Then, and it was so slight I almost didn’t notice, the door handle seemed to warm a bit.

Melanie jumped back. “He’s out there. I think he can actually hear you.” She stared at the door, almost as if she were trying to decide if this was okay or not.

Faintly, as if from a distance, I heard Haven’s muffled voice. I renewed my yelling and pulled hard on the handle. Melanie stood off to the side, growing fainter. She saw my glance and waved.

The doorknob turned, and I jumped out of the way as the door burst open.

“Claire!”

I launched myself at Haven, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you, God. Thank you, Haven!”

He kissed me, hard, and I returned it, my hands fisting in his shirt. He kept it brief, pulling away and grabbing my hand. “We have to get going before your mom gets back.”

“Where’s Grant?”

“He’s already at my house, entertaining my grandmother.”

We headed downstairs. I nearly fell on the last flight when the little girl appeared at the bottom. Haven paused, pushing me behind him with one arm.

“No effing way,” I snarled, one hand outstretched. “She’s going to let me pass, or I’ll show her what hell could be like.”

The smile on those childish lips widened, revealing her unnatural teeth. Haven grunted, and my hair stand on end. Instead of staying put, I grabbed his hand and barreled through, gasping at the cold that passed over me when I ran through her.

Haven gasped but didn’t pause, following close behind me. I threw open the front door and nearly toppled down the front steps. He hooked his hands under my arms, pulled me against his chest again.

Outside, I finally felt like I could breathe, but my knees were unsteady and I allowed Haven to worry about keeping me upright.

“That was really stupid.”

“They weren’t going to stop us.” I turned in his arms and rubbed my cheek against his chest, making sure he was real.

“You couldn’t know for sure.”

Hysterical laughter broke free from my chest. “Yes, yes I can. After the night I spent…” A thought crossed my mind, and my chest tightened with panic. “It was only one night, right? It’s still Thursday?”

Haven made a low growl in his throat. Moisture shimmered in his eyes. “It’s still Thursday.”

I dropped my forehead to his chest. “Thank you for coming back. If it had been any longer…”

The tension of the moment was broken by a long rumble from my stomach. Haven kept an arm around my waist and pushed me toward the woods. “Come on, we’ll get you back to my house and you can get something to eat and tell me what happened. If you’re ready. Besides, I have someone who is desperate to talk to you.”

***

Grant didn’t even let me get inside before he wrapped arms around me and squeezed. My brother didn’t do physical displays of emotion. I hugged him back, tears leaking from my eyes. Now they’d started, it was hard to get them to stop.

“Next time, I’m going with you and we’ll get somebody else to make a distraction.”

“I love you too, Grant.”

He pulled away and wiped at his eyes. I didn’t comment on the moisture there. Haven took the coat I shed, and I headed straight for the bathroom. As I washed my hands, he knocked on the door.

I called out for him to come in, while I unwrapped my makeshift bandages from my hands.

“What the hell happened? I was so worried about getting you out; I didn’t notice this,” Haven said. He took one hand, gently turning it over and examining it.

“I had a run in with an unfriendly mirror. It could have been much worse, believe me.”

The muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched. “I’ll get some antibiotic ointment and see if we have any gauze.”

He turned before I could protest. Now that the cuts had been washed, a few bled sluggishly, but I didn’t think they looked as bad. He came back with a partial roll of gauze, ointment, and a bag. He set it all on the counter next to me.

“Your brother brought over a bag of your stuff. I thought maybe you’d want a shower while I make some dinner.”

“You’re a mind reader,” I said, grabbing the bag.

One corner of his mouth twitched. “No, clairvoyant, remember?”

“Semantics.”

I shooed him out and shut the door. The bag was stuffed full of clothes, and I fished out a pair of pajama pants, an oversize T-shirt, and underthings. Grant had even packed my hairbrush and toothbrush.

I cranked the water as hot as I could stand it and shed my clothes. The water stung my hands, but I reveled in the knowledge I was alive and my mind still intact. Nightmares would plague me—they hovered in the recesses of my head. But I could wake from them, not be trapped in one endless cycle of fear. I’d be grateful for it. With time, they would fade.

I climbed out of the shower, dried off and dressed. My hair hung down my back in wet waves, but I didn’t feel like hunting for a hair tie I grabbed the gauze and ointment and headed for the living room.

Grant sat on the couch, his cell next to him and the remote in one hand. “Hey. Feel better?”

“You have no idea.” I sighed, the couch feeling like a cloud after my night of hard floors. “Could you help me with this?”

Grant frowned at the cuts, but nodded. “Do I even want to know?”

“Not right now. Maybe later, okay?”

He spread the cream over the cuts and nodded. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too.”

He carefully wrapped each of the cut fingers, then rolled up the rest of the gauze and sat back. “I called Cain while you were in the shower and let him know what was going on. He said they were still coming, and he would be sure they were all aware of the possible dangers.” He paused. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

I shrugged. “We have to do something, Grant. We can’t stay there as is, and we haven’t got anywhere else to go. Besides, we can’t leave Mom there.”

“I know. But it’s getting too intense, and I feel like this isn’t going to end well.”

I patted his hand, but I didn’t disagree. How could I? We all felt that way. Well, except for Laura and Bryan, but they were the exception, not the rule. My stomach let out a loud rumble, and Grant loosed a short bark of laughter.

“Sorry.” He smiled wide. “It would seem you’re hungry. I think Haven’s about got dinner ready. Shall we?”

I nodded, and we headed into the small kitchen. Pasta let off curls of steam in a colander next to the sink, while a pot of Swedish meatballs bubbled on the stove. Haven stuck spoons in each dish and then turned to face us.

“Dinner is served.” He motioned to the stack of bowls on the counter and moved out of the way.

I grabbed one and began serving myself. “Thanks. It smells great.” I filled my bowl and headed for the table. “Where’s your grandmother? Who wanted to see me?”

Haven and Grant exchanged a look I couldn’t read.

“Grandmother and Mom are both resting. I thought you’d want to eat before dealing with Mom.” Haven brought over his dinner and took the chair next to me.

“She’s been babbling hysterically about you since Haven brought her here.” Grant took the seat across from me and dug his fork in. “She wore herself out with it.”

I chewed, letting them do the talking.

Haven stared at his food. “Vale always helped her keep things sorted out, but he doesn’t seem to be around now.”

“He’s not.” I took a sip of the cup of water left on the table for me. “He helped me find her, but somehow in the process he had to trade his freedom in. The spirits in the house have him now.”

Memories of the voices made my stomach turn, but I pushed them aside and continued to shovel food into my mouth.

“What else did you find out in there?”

I swallowed. “A lot. Vale isn’t your father. He’s your great-great-grandfather. There’s a spirit we don’t know about behind a great many things, and there’s a fourth floor we have to find.”

Grant and Haven stared.

“Anything else?” Grant asked.

I shivered in spite of myself. “Let’s finish dinner, then we can talk.”

***

Haven’s grandmother blocked the hallway, arms crossed. “Haven Lucius Elliot, you are going to leave your poor mother alone. She’s been through enough, and I just got her calmed down.”

“It’s important, Grandmother.”

She shook her head. “It’s always important.” For a moment, she looked infinitely tired, as if this had been an argument she’d had many times with someone else.

Haven touched her arm. “Please.”

She stepped aside. “I can’t stop you, but I can tell you, if you damage her more, there’ll be the devil to pay.”

I sighed and stepped around Haven. “Mrs. Elliot, the devil’s already had his share. We’re trying to keep him from coming back for seconds.”

She blinked at me, then her lip curled and she stomped to her bedroom. The door slammed behind her, hard enough to make the pictures on the wall rattle. I looked back at Haven. “Sorry.”

He shrugged, then grabbed my hand and headed for his mother’s bedroom. He knocked on the door and waited until he heard her tell us to come in.

She sat in a wingchair next to the window, a book in her lap. She wasn’t reading. Her eyes were far away, staring out into a world I’d only gotten a glimpse of, and it had been more than enough. Tears made everything blurry.

“I’m sorry, Haven. I should have gotten there sooner.”

“You did what you could. I don’t think it’s because of the house.” His voice was soft. “At least, not all of it. She keeps calling for Vale and for you.”

“Me?”

He nudged me toward her, and I took a seat on the bed across from her. “Mrs. Elliot? Lenore?”

Her head turned, and her face lit with recognition. She reached out and grabbed my hands in hers. “You’re here and you’re safe!”

“Yes, I’m safe. Haven got me.”

“Haven’s such a good boy.”

I nodded. Her smile fell and her hands tightened until I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

“They know you now, inside and out. That was the plan. Test you. Torture you. Get inside your head without you suspecting. All your fears, they know. You can’t go back there.”

“I have to.”

She squeezed harder and tears burned the corners of my eyes. The cuts on my fingers would be bleeding again.

“No. If you go back,
she’ll
be there, waiting for you. She has Vale. She wants you. A way to squeeze through into the next world. Her own personal martyr.”

“Mrs. El—”

She leaned forward. “Think it through, girl. Think! Why are there no psychic ghosts? What can they do in death and life that a ghost would find useful?”

Her face, which had been so intense, suddenly went slack, and she fluttered her eyelids, looking down at the grip she had on my hands.

“I’m sorry. What were we talking about?” Moisture rose in her eyes. “I had something important to tell you, but I can’t remember it now. Did I tell you?”

I patted her limp hands. “You did. You told me everything you needed to. Why don’t you rest now?”

“I wasn’t always crazy, you know,” she whispered. Her tone and expression broke my heart. “Once, I was happy.”

“You’ll be happy again. You will.”

She smiled and patted my cheek. “Haven picked a good girl.” Her hands fell away and she turned her eyes to the window beside her. It seemed like a light had gone off again in her mind.

Haven leaned over and kissed her cheek. “We’ll check in on you later, Mom.”

She didn’t even move.

Friday morning started better than I thought it might. After spending Thursday night telling Haven and Grant a low-key but truthful, account of my time locked in the house, I had been ready to collapse. Passing out because your body can’t handle any more ghostly energy is not the same as getting real rest.

Even that had been hard to come by, with nightmares waking me throughout the night. It got better once Haven stretched out next to me. I still woke, and a few times I found him searching through internet sites. After I told him about the uncanny resemblance to the photos and what I’d found, he was determined to get more information before we went in with the Spirit Searchers.

I stretched, my resolve easier to hold on to with the morning light filtering through the window. We’d had a brief argument about the wisdom of my returning to the house. I won, but for a moment I had been tempted by the idea of staying behind.

But only for a moment. The spirits and I had a score to settle.

I rummaged through the overnight bag and got dressed, brushed my teeth, and tried to make my hair look a little less like a rat’s nest.

As I finished braiding it, my cell phone buzzed on the night stand. Bryan’s name flashed across the screen.

Shoving it in my pocket, I headed out into the kitchen. Haven, cordless phone pressed to his ear, waved and pointed at the table, which held eggs, bacon, and toast. Grant was already digging in and grinned broadly.

“Great spread, huh?”

I nodded. “I would say so. Did Haven cook?”

Grant shook his head and leaned closer. “It’s weird. His grandma did. Came out, acted all sour and made lots of comments about our plans, but made breakfast, then took a tray to share with Haven’s mom.”

“Okay.”

My hip buzzed again and I slid the cell phone out with a groan.

“Who is it?” Grant asked.

“Bryan.”

“Oh”—Grant scooped another forkful of eggs up—“It’s probably because they’re already at the house. Haven’s talking to Cain right now.”