Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) (35 page)

“Logan, come on…” John shook his head, a half incredulous smile frozen on his lips. “You’re not serious? Ghost nuns?”

Jim flinched again.

Logan sighed. “I’m deadly serious. I don’t know what to expect, but I don’t want the guys to be a part of this.”

“We can leave in the morning, mate. We’ve had a long day, we’re all tired, and we don’t want to go back out again looking for a bed and breakfast.”

“This is not negotiable, John. You leave tonight.” Logan wasn’t talking quietly now, and he looked at the four young men as he spoke the last words.

“Fine by me,” Jim muttered, and then he repeated, “I hate nuns.”

“No they don’t.” Oliver’s voice cut through the entrance hall, and Logan looked at him with surprise. The figure in the doorway looked as if he’d just gone on a three week survival hunt. His clothes were torn and filthy, and his brown curls hung listlessly and greasy on his forehead. Oliver’s skin was pale, and deep blue circles lined his eyes; he reminded Logan of one of the ghost children, but the difference was that Oliver Jardin was still very much alive.

“Everyone into the kitchen. I have something to tell you.” He pointed with an authoritarian gesture towards the West Wing, his eyes blazing. The young men complied in shocked silence, and even Logan followed along, though he wondered why he was listening to the mad-eyed man. The scent of sour sweat, and what Logan suspected could be vomit, permeated from Oliver’s every pore, and he had to do his best not to gag. There was something else he could smell too… a more disturbing scent. Oliver smelled like death. “Where were you, man?” Logan eyed the dirt on his torn clothes. The man’s whole appearance was unsettling and Logan felt a nagging in his stomach. “Freya was worried sick.”

“I have an important announcement.”

“Are you okay?”

Oliver gave him an agitated glare. “Just go into the kitchen.”

Logan sighed, but he followed Oliver’s lead, partially out of curiosity and partially because the shorter man sounded so convincing.

They stumbled into the kitchen, the guys wide-eyed at the sight of all the equipment, and Florifera’s crew looked up from their screens in surprise.

“Ollie?” Freya took a step towards him. “What happened to you? You look a right mess.”

“I have something to say.” Oliver swayed from side to side.

“Say it, mate.” It was John who spoke, and though Logan couldn’t see his friend’s face, he heard the irritation in his tone. “I would like to know what’s going on here.”

“Tonight is an important night. Angel Manor has informed me that you will all be its guests for the equinox.”

“Ollie, you’re sounding a little mental.” Freya ran her fingers through her dark hair, her nose wrinkled and her eyes round. “The house informed you?”

Oliver turned to her. “Yes, Freya… the house. Aren’t you the one who is going on about hauntings?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.” Freya sounded exasperated.

Logan took a step towards Freya, ready to protect her from anything he possibly could. There was sadness in her eyes, and he wanted to be her hero, but he didn’t quite know how.

“Oh, there’s no denying that ghosts are real, Freya. No denying it at all.” Oliver shook his head slowly, a too-wide grin plastered on his face. “And the ghosts here are important. They keep the world in balance. You have no idea what we are a part of… absolutely no idea. It’s so magnificent. You are all so fortunate that you can be a part of it too.”

He pointed from the Chancers, who were standing together in a corner, to Florifera’s crew, who were sitting behind their computers.

“Tonight the house will have fresh souls. It’s been longing for them for several generations, but the children of the bloodline have been too careful, too prepared.” He turned to Freya again and pointed at her. “Until you came, Freya. You broke that spell. You brought new blood into the house, and it woke up. It’s hungry. The house is so very hungry. You can feel it too, can’t you? As can you, Logan…”

“Dude is off his fucking tits,” Terrence whispered, and someone else giggled in response. Oliver didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were still on Freya. Logan had to admit there was a point to what the crazy man was saying. He could sense the hunger too, and it seemed to be growing.

“Listen, Oliver. How about you sit down, mate?” Logan lifted his hands. “I’m going to let John and Jim and the guys collect their stuff, and get them out of here. Then we’ll talk about this, okay?”

“They’re not going anywhere. The house has other plans for them.”

“Okay, that’s really nice, mate. But I don’t really think there’s anything you can do to stop them from leaving.”

“I can’t stop them, no. But Angel Manor can. Can’t you feel it? The magic? It’s almost time…”

“Okay, fuck this. Come on guys. We’re going to get your stuff.” Logan put his hand on Freya’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Are you going to be okay?” She looked at him with those big grey eyes and nodded. His stomach flipped. “Good. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He jerked his head towards the door, a sign for John, Jim and the rest to follow him. Oliver remained where he stood, and for a moment, Logan was afraid that he would try to block his exit. He really didn’t want to fight him, not because he was afraid, but because Oliver was obviously unstable.

“Step aside, mate. Let’s not do this.”

“It won’t matter. The house won’t let you leave.”

“Step aside.” Logan’s voice was low and menacing, and Oliver stepped out of the doorway. Relief flooded through Logan’s mind, but he remained wary of the wild-eyed man. He stayed near the door, allowing the young men to go through first, followed by the two counsellors. Oliver never moved. Logan stared straight ahead, his nerves on edge. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit if Oliver turned out to have a knife hidden somewhere. As he walked by, he felt Oliver’s eyes burn in the back of his neck, but there was no attack.

“What the fuck?” Terrence’s cry tore him from his thoughts of Oliver, and Logan looked up perturbed. They had walked through the door, but instead of the large entrance hall, they were in a room that looked vaguely familiar to Logan.

“Where did the main hall go?” Everyone froze, and Logan made his way around the young men to inspect the room.

“Where are we?”

Logan stepped further into the room. His hand rose to his mouth. Nothing in his mind could make sense out of what he was seeing.

“This is impossible,” he muttered.

“What the hell is going on?” John stood next to him. Logan was at a loss for words, and he turned back to the door to the East Wing only to see that it was gone.

“How did we get here?” Terrence stepped further into the room, but Logan’s hand shot out to hold him back.

“We’re in the attic.” Logan’s breath was heavy and his words were soft.

“That’s not possible.” Terrence shook his head and pushed Logan’s hand away.

It wasn’t possible, and yet… there they were. Logan took several deep breaths and tried to control his chaotic thoughts.

“Okay, I don’t know what’s happening, but we need to get out of here.”

“It’s too late. The house won’t let you go. It has waited for this moment.” The voices were sad and soft, yet they rang clearly through the attic.

“Oh shit.” The boys huddled together, and they looked more lost than Logan had ever seen them.

“Are those ghosts?” It was Mason who spoke, his body shaking. “I can’t deal with ghosts.” He pointed at the darkness, and when Logan followed his finger, he saw the children.

Chapter 28

“All the screens just went black.” Pierre looked over his shoulder, and Freya leaned forward to see what he was talking about.

“We’re not having a power failure,” she said, looking at the lights in the kitchen. “Everything else seems to be working.”

Pierre pushed the button on his screen, but it remained black.

“Can’t get mine to work either.” Darren sighed and stood up, inspecting the cables. “Nothing’s unplugged.”

“The sun has gone down. The witching hour is upon us.” Marie-Claire’s voice carried despite its soft tones.

“Midnight is nearing.” Oliver’s tense words sounded from the entrance. “Soon the Angels will be free.”

“You keep saying that.” Freya couldn’t keep the irritability from her voice. “Would you mind explaining what you mean by it, though? Because, frankly, you’re starting to get on my nerves.”

“Why do you think I let you bring these mediums into our house, Freya? I wanted more people here for when the equinox started. The more the merrier.” His laughter was high and hysterical.

“Jesus, Ollie. You’re starting to sound like a cartoon villain. Stop it. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Though she was looking at what was technically her best friend in the whole world, Freya barely recognised him. Even his body language was different, and she didn’t know what to do.

“EVP is still working, we just have no visual.” Ruben’s voice broke the tension, and Freya turned to look at him. She noticed that no one else was paying attention to Oliver; they were too busy trying to get their equipment to work. Only Marie-Claire Florifera stared blindly in Oliver’s direction, though Freya wasn’t sure if she was paying attention to him or if it was just coincidence.

Oliver just stood in the door opening, swaying on his legs, and every so often he would look outside or to the ceiling and a dark smile would cloud his face.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing. Just waiting.” Oliver looked at his watch. “Two and a half hours until midnight. That’s when the festivities begin.” He chuckled again, his eyebrows raised so far they disappeared under the matted brown curls.

“Oliver, please piss off now. I can’t deal with you. This is too mental. Go to your room and stay there or something.”

“Don’t worry, Frey, the house has acknowledged us as its guardians. It needs us, you know? Did your aunt tell you that? She didn’t, did she? She hasn’t told you shit, that old bitch.”

“I’m going to put you to bed. I’ve had enough of your shit.” She gathered her courage, not wanting to admit that this new Oliver was frightening her, and grabbed him by the shoulders. For a moment, he looked as if he were going to pull loose, or perhaps even hit her, but he just stared at her from under his curls with those mad round eyes, and Freya wanted nothing more than to kick him out of the house. But she couldn’t. He was bound to this place the same way she was, and no matter how much he freaked her out, she would do nothing to harm him.

“We’ll be safe, Freya, but we need to let this happen. We need to help the house. It’s important. We need… we need to make the sacrifice, Freya. Don’t you feel it? Don’t you know what it demands of us?” His eyes pleaded with her now, and a little bit of spittle ran from the corner of his mouth. Freya wanted to cry, but she fought the tears.

“I’m going to take Oliver to his room, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Be careful, dear.” Marie-Claire reached out a hand in her direction. “The boy is under a spell, and it’s a powerful one.”

Every muscle in Freya’s body tensed. It made sense, what the old woman said, but the thought of Oliver under a spell made her feel extremely vulnerable. If the house could get to him in this manner, it could get to all of them. Oliver was the one who didn’t believe in ghosts, the one who had always been down to earth and sceptical. It seemed absurd that he would be the one in the grasp of magic.

“Can you undo it?”

“I hope that, when I find a way to release the souls from this house, it will release his spirit too. That should break the spell.” The old woman frowned, her face creased. “Technically, it should break it.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then we try something else.” The old woman sighed. “I told you, dear. You are no longer alone. Now, go put that young man to bed, and stay with him. I don’t want him getting in the way. I suspect he might try to sabotage any effort we’re making.”

“You told me that spirits couldn’t harm us.” A bitter taste coated her tongue, and she couldn’t keep the accusatory tone from her voice.

“I said they couldn’t harm you physically. I believe I mentioned they could influence our moods and minds though.”

“This is more than a little influence.” She pointed at her friend.

“This house is stronger than anything I’ve encountered before, dear. It’s rather exceptional. Your friend must have been an easy target for it. Perhaps he was emotionally unstable when you moved in, or perhaps he wanted something too much. I can only guess. Whatever it was, the magic has him in its hold now, and you’d best stay with him tonight.”

Tears spilled across Freya’s cheeks. She wanted this night to be over. The way Oliver spoke about it made her afraid. The thought of the Angels, whoever they were, made her stomach sink to her knees. She didn’t want them to roam free. In fact, she didn’t even want to be in this house. She felt young and helpless.

“Please help us.”

“Yes, dear. That’s what I’m here for.” The French accent was soothing, and something between a sigh and a sob escaped from Freya’s throat as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Thank you.”

She grabbed Oliver by the shoulders again and spun him around.