Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) (41 page)

***

Logan wanted to rush to Freya’s aid. Her whole body rocked back and forth with spasms. A foamy, white liquid spilled from her lips, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“Don’t.” Julie held his arm and looked at him with pleading eyes. “She’s fine. Florifera has her.”

“She looks like she’s having a fit.”

“I know.”

A loud crash sounded in the distance, and the house groaned again. Cracks appeared in the walls, sending a light rain of dust and cement down on them, and Logan was worried that the building might collapse. He didn’t know where Terrence was, or Jim or Gary, and as much as he wanted to find them, he knew it wouldn’t do any good.

He decided to stay where he was for now, but if he saw any further sign of danger, he would grab Freya and Mason and run from this house – fuck the rest of them.

A smell hit him, a combination of burned rubber and ammonia, strong enough to make him gag. The house trembled with the ferocity of an earthquake, moving to the same rhythm as Freya’s shaking body.

Without warning, Freya’s shaking stopped, and she became as stiff as a board. Her eyes were wide open, as was her mouth, and for a moment, Logan feared she was dead. Then Freya bolted up to her feet, her body movements physically impossible. A loud scream escaped her rigid mouth, and a cloud of black smoke exploded from her pale lips and evaporated into the air. The house went dark, all the lights went out, and even the light of the moon, which had seemed so bright before, had dimmed. A hushed silence settled over Angel Manor, and Logan could hear the beating of his own heart. Freya’s body relaxed and she slumped to the ground, hitting the tiles of the kitchen floor with a sickening thud. This time, Logan rushed to her side.

He picked her up in his arms, resting her back against his knees. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a weak smile. The lights went on again.

“Is it over?” Her voice was hoarse, and her lips were pale and cracked.

“I… I don’t know?”

“Not yet. We’ve only released the spirits from the house. Now we need to exorcize them.” Florifera crawled to her feet and shook the dust from her shoulders and skirt. “You broke the spells though, dear. The rest is my department.”

“Can we leave the house?”

“Yes, but the spirits are still dangerous. Though, admittedly, they’ve lost the magic of the house, which means they can’t manipulate it anymore.”

Freya’s eyes met Logan’s. “Get the kids out of here. I’ll stay with Marie-Claire and her team. Get Mason to safety, and maybe you can find Terrence?”

“I can’t leave you here.”

“You’re not leaving me; you are getting the kids out. I will join you as soon as I can.”

“You took a bad fall, Freya. I should get you out. Get you to a hospital. Your head is bleeding.” He looked at the nasty gash on the side of her head and the long line of red liquid running from it. Logan held the sleeve of his shirt against it until the bleeding slowed.

“I can’t just leave this place, not until Marie-Claire is done.”

“Marie-Claire?” Logan turned to the blind medium.

“You best go now, boy.” The old woman sounded tired. “We have only won half the battle. It’s time to bring these spirits to the light. And some of them will refuse to go. There is nothing you can do to help here, and the spirits have proven that they can be dangerous.”

Logan looked at Freya again. She was struggling to sit up straight.

“Freya…”

“Just go. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ve made it through this much; I can get through the rest. You go, and meet me outside. Get in the car or something. Stay there. If something happens, you can just drive away.”

“I won’t just drive away.”

“Go now. Take Mason.”

Logan got to his feet and grabbed the young man’s arm. Mason barely responded, his eyes were still wide and he seemed to have been pulled away into a little world in his mind. There was cement dust all over his hair and shoulders, and Logan patted at it with the palm of his hand. There was still no reaction, and he glanced at Freya one more time, but she didn’t look back. She was too busy talking to Florifera.

“Let’s go, Mason.” Logan squeezed his arm and pulled him along.

***

The house released her the moment Chuck opened the second door to the basement. Bam put one foot into the hole, finding a staircase leading downwards. There was something hidden down there. It had an even stronger impact on her than the house had, and she feared it. But, she decided, she feared Chuck more.

“Bambi… don’t go down there.” Chuck’s voice was commanding, and for a moment, Bam froze. Then she ran.

It pulled at her, whatever it was, drowning out her own thoughts with a million screams. Yet she kept running. Behind her, Chuck followed, but Bam knew she had to keep it together. She couldn’t concentrate on her fear of him. The latch fell shut, and Bam realised vaguely through the chaos in her mind that, instead of outrunning Chuck, she was now trapped in here… with him.

Chapter 34

No matter how hard he ran, they were always a few steps behind him. He could hear their footsteps, but worst of all was the smell. That ominous scent of death. It turned his stomach as much as the fear did, and Terrence understood that ghosts didn’t need to rest. He might be faster now, but his body would give out. His muscles ached, and his adrenaline was starting to wear thin. The house around him shook and trembled, and there were moments when Terrence thought the roof might cave in on him, but somehow everything still stood. He had hurt his ankle when the ground shifted under his feet, leaving him with a burning pain. But his physical pain was nothing compared to the mental anguish he was currently feeling; it even blocked out the fear in his heart.

Why Tyrell? I could deal with those crazy naked bitches, but not my brother.
Tears stung his eyes, and his heart drummed like a bird fluttering against the bars of a cage. As he turned towards the south corridor, his ankle collapsed without warning, and Terrence connected brutally with the marble floor. His weight landed on his arm, and it exploded with a burning pain. Panic stricken, he tried to scramble to his feet, but his arm would not support his weight and the hurricane of emotions was clouding his senses.

He’s going to get me. The fucking zombie Tyrell is going to get me. He’s not just going to talk to me now, I know it. He’s different.

Terrence turned himself on his back and watched them approach. Tyrell walked in front with the other three close behind. They weren’t exactly running. The house gave another shudder, and the walls creaked. Terrence pushed himself away from the oncoming spirits.

I don’t want to die like this. Not like this.
Tears ran freely now, mingling with the snot running from his nose. He knew he couldn’t get away; there would be no escape.

A strong hand grabbed him, and Terrence screamed with all his might. The hand jerked, pulling him along the floor, and Terrence struggled.

“Damn it, boy. Stop that. Come here.” A voice with a thick French accent barked at him. “If you don’t come with me, you will be dead. They’re after you.”

The man was pale, and his high forehead was covered with little drops of sweat. He crouched at the top of the basement steps. Terrence pushed himself towards the opening and threw himself down the stone stairs. Each step connected heavily with his skin, and he grabbed hold of Ruben for support, sending the both of them tumbling until they reached the bottom. They lay side by side in the dimly lit basement, trying to catch their breaths. The other guy was on his feet first. He ran to the bottom of the stairs and knelt on the ground, scraping at something.

“What are you doing, man?” Terrence’s voice was hoarse, and his back, arm and leg ached.

“The salt is part of the defence in this basement. I think the spells are meant to keep things in, but I’m pretty sure in this case it can keep them out as well.”

“The ghosts?” Terrence sat up wild-eyed.

“Yes.”

“You keep them out with salt?”

“Yes.”

“Is this like fucking magical salt or something?” He fought a wave of hysteria.

“No, just salt.” The man’s breath was ragged.

“So we could have stopped these fucking things with a bit of salt?” He couldn’t comprehend the idea.

“I don’t know. These spirits… they are unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. But sticking to tradition can help. Magic is strange that way. It likes ritual.”

“Dude, you are making so fucking little sense to me right now.” He rubbed his temples. “But if you think you can stop those things, then you are my fucking hero.”

“Let’s hope I get to be your hero, or we will both die quite horribly.” The man massaged his arm and looked as if he were about to pass out.

A scream, not exactly human, made their eardrums ache. Around them, the walls shifted out of place, creaking and groaning, cement dust cascading down on them. A burst of energy caused the hairs on the back of Terrence’s neck to stand up, all the warmth drained from the building, and the lights went out. The basement was pitch black and eerily silent.

“Mr?”

“I’m here, kid.” The French accent soothed Terrence’s frayed nerves.

“Do you know what just happened then?”

“Not sure, but I think it might have been the first step of the exorcism.”

“There’s an exorcism?”

“Yes, kid. That’s why we’re here, to cleanse this house.”

“Oh… good.”

The light flickered back on, and a mild sense of relief arose in Terrence’s chest.

“Is it over?”

“No, my boy.”

A loud cackling sounded above them, turning Terrence’s blood to ice.

“I’m afraid it’s only beginning.”

***

The house looked smaller somehow, though Freya couldn’t explain why. The wallpaper looked more faded, and everything appeared dusty and old. Even the brand new stairs looked forlorn in the shadowy main hall. The electric light did nothing to brighten the large room, and the marble floor reflected it dully.

The house looks dead.

She dug her fingers into the bag of salt and finished the large circle she was creating. The Angels screeched in the distance, and the sound of their voices was unsettling. They’d lost control of the house, but that didn’t make them any less dangerous, and now that they were no longer bound, they were capable of leaving Angel Manor. The exorcism had to work.

The sheer thought of those naked, bloodthirsty women out in the world made Freya cringe. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned, her heart pounding, but it was only Marie-Claire and Julie. The younger women held Marie-Claire by the arm. Florifera looked as if she had aged ten years overnight.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Freya raised her eyebrows and bit her lip.

“Yes. Are you done with the circle?”

“Almost.”

“Hurry then. This isn’t over yet, and I don’t know how much longer I can distract the spirits. Once the spell I cast earlier wears off, they will be coming straight for us. We living are like beacons to the dead. They are drawn to our life energy and our warmth, and we don’t know how these spirits will respond now that they are freed from the house.”

Freya focused on the salt again, making sure the circle was not broken anywhere.

“Done. How are you going to exorcise the house?”

“I’m going to use a little extra magic,” Marie-Claire answered with a hint of mystery in her voice.

“Extra magic?”

“I’m going to use Lucifer Falls. It’s the perfect place to draw lost spirits to and give them a place to rest. It’s a gate, if you will.”

“Like the pearly gates.”

Florifera laughed an unexpectedly young laugh. She shook her head, a strand of long, white hair loosening from the elastic band and falling across her cheek. “No child, the pearly gates are just a myth as far as I know. The gate to heaven is more abstract, I should think. Though perhaps you are not altogether wrong when you compare it to the concept of the pearly gates. Lucifer Falls will serve as a very strong light for spirits to be drawn to. I don’t believe these spirits will be too willing to go, so we need an extra incentive.”

“And you think Lucifer Falls will be it?”

“I do. I hope it will draw them like a moths to a flame. The problem is getting that light connected to our spirits.”

“Do we have to lure them towards it or something?”

“No, it’s more the other way around. We need to get the light to them.”

“And you know how to do that?”

A thought crossed the woman’s face, Freya could see it but couldn’t make out what it was.
Hesitation?

“In theory, I have an idea how to. This magic is stronger than any I have ever used, so I can’t tell you for sure.”

“So this might not work then?” Freya’s voice was soft and filled with fear. Marie-Claire didn’t answer her but instead directed Pierre to get her bag. The young man ran eagerly, his eyes darting around. He obviously felt as paranoid as Freya was.

This has to work.

“I don’t know how many survivors are still in the house. I felt a few when we were unravelling the spells, but I didn’t have time to focus on them. I don’t know where they are.” Florifera sounded brittle, and she spoke an octave higher than normal. “We need to act fast if we want to save them.”