The Messenger: A Novel (22 page)

A
manda broke her stride and stumbled as her parents’ ghosts appeared in front of her. She just managed not to fall. Her father motioned her toward the house, but her attention was on the fading taillights ahead of her. She lost sight of them as the truck turned onto the road.

“Do you mean to harm him? To have him become a ghost?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

They shook their heads no, then pointed at the house again.

“If you love me,” she said, “if you have ever loved me, follow him. Find out where he’s being taken.”

Her parents glanced at each other, then turned to her. They pointed toward the house.

“All right, all right! But please…please…help me!” She drew a hard breath, fighting back panic and frustration. “I need you.”

With a speed that astonished her, they moved in the direction of the truck, then disappeared.

Could she trust them? She wasn’t sure, but Shade was with him.

She ran toward the house, wondering how, without Shade’s help here, she would stop a man with a gun from whatever harm he intended.

Evan heard the truck drive off and ran to a window. He was just in time to see a young woman running down the drive after it. He swore that if he saw Daniel again, he’d kill him. Then he’d find out if Daniel’s mother was alive, and if she was, he’d kill her, too, just for raising such a damned fool.

Although his own estimate of his intelligence was high, he could not decide what he should do now. Go after the girl outside, before anyone saw her out on the road and asked her what was wrong? Before she called the police? Or should he go upstairs as he had planned, finish that one off, and then kill the other one? It wasn’t as if either girl knew who he was, though, so maybe he should get out of here and save his bullets for the dog.

He scratched absently at the parts of his skin dampened by Hawthorne’s blood.

Maybe he should go outside and catch the girl and take her back to Adrian. After all, that was what they were supposed to do. Adrian always got mad if they did anything other than what he ordered them to do.

Completely ignoring the fact that he carried a firearm in defiance of his master, he pictured himself showing Daniel up by delivering the real prize. But, even without the girl, how was he going to get back home? He checked the garage. A Jag was parked there. Sweet. It was about to become his new ride.

Daniel had a lot to answer for. Evan decided he would catch the other girl and take her with him. Bring the blonde along as a bonus. That plan, he decided, would be best.

By the time he had worked through his plan, he saw the brunette turn toward the house. Now what was she up to?

Amanda remembered that the back door was open. When she neared the house, she began to move more cautiously. One of the men was gone, and so was the truck, but Tyler’s other attacker was probably still in the house. The idea of encountering him frightened her, but she didn’t want
to leave Rebecca in his power for another minute—he might be hurting her even now.

Although her eyes had adjusted to the darkness outside, as she stepped into the kitchen, it was harder to see.

She knew her way around the house, though, and walking as quietly as she could, she made her way to the living room.

She listened hard but could hear no sound other than the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the grandfather clock. She reached the foot of the stairs and carefully began her ascent.

A night-light in the upstairs hallway allowed her to see that the door of the guest room Rebecca used was closed. Amanda had just taken a creeping step toward it when the ghosts of her aunt and uncle appeared. She drew in an audible gasp but managed not to trip or knock anything over. She was just feeling relieved about this when Aunt Cynthia motioned toward something over Amanda’s left shoulder.

The hall lights came on as she turned. The man who had carried Tyler to the truck was pointing a gun at her.

“Just step into that room,” he said.

Shade lay beside Tyler and breathed softly on his face.

Tyler’s eyes opened, but he squeezed them shut almost immediately, warding off pain. He felt the burn of fever spreading through his body, and fought to keep track of the words he wanted to say. After a moment, he managed a dry whisper. “Shade, I beg of you—protect Amanda.”

The dog didn’t move. Tyler forced himself to open his eyes. Shade seemed suddenly alert, staring at something behind the truck. The dog came to his feet, seeming to need no effort to maintain his balance as the truck swayed with the curves of the road.

“Please, Shade. Please help her.”

He looked at Tyler, came close to him once more, and again breathed softly on him.

The pain lessened immediately.

Shade stared hard into Tyler’s eyes, as if he wished to convey some
message of his own, then turned, and in a single leap was out of the truck.

In his delirium, Tyler thought an elegant couple in evening dress joined him almost as soon as Shade was gone. They seemed familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he had met them. He could have sworn the woman looked at him in sorrow, and placed a pale, cool hand on his forehead, soothing the fever and bringing him sleep.

A
manda obeyed the man with the gun. He turned the light on, and she saw Rebecca, bound and gagged, lying awkwardly on the floor. Her face was scraped and she was bleeding from a cut on her chin. Seeing her cousin mistreated, knowing this man had shot Tyler, seeing Tyler’s blood on his hands and clothing—all combined to make Amanda feel suddenly more angry than afraid.

Rebecca, pale and wide eyed, looked relieved to see Amanda until she saw the man just behind her. Amanda hurried to her cousin and tried to move her to a more comfortable position. With some effort, she managed to help her sit up. Rebecca seemed woozy. She leaned against Amanda.

“What did you do to her?” Amanda asked.

“Shut up!” he said.

Rebecca made a little screeching sound behind her gag, but she wasn’t looking at either Amanda or the man with the gun. When Amanda followed the direction of Rebecca’s gaze, she saw her aunt and uncle hovering nearby.

“Shut up, I said!” their captor repeated.

“Are you the one called Evan, or are you Daniel?”

He was shocked to hear her mention their names.

“You told your names to Brad, remember? Uncle Jordan and Aunt Cynthia, is this Daniel?”

“You aren’t fooling me with that old ‘someone is behind you’ stunt,” he said.

But behind him, the ghosts were shaking their heads. Rebecca cowered against her.

“Evan it is, then,” Amanda said.

“Look, you, I don’t know what kind of trick you’re trying to pull on me, but I told you—”

She saw his uncertainty, his fear, and decided to keep him off balance. “Are your parents living, Evan?”

Evan was so taken aback by this question, he answered, “No. Dead for years.”

“Well, if their ghosts suddenly appeared in this room, wouldn’t you screech?”

“Leave them out of this. You don’t know a thing about them!”

“True, although I’m sure they’re both very disappointed in you, wherever they are. The point is, the ghosts of Rebecca’s parents are right here, right now. Just behind you.”

He glanced nervously in the direction of Rebecca’s gaze and took a step sideways.

The ghosts seemed suddenly distracted and turned their heads as if they had heard a noise. They disappeared.

Amanda felt a little of her confidence go with them.

A moment later, though, she heard noises downstairs.

Evan heard them, too, and stepped into the hall and shut the light off. While he was distracted, she used her free hand to reach for Tyler’s cell phone and, without holding it up to her face, pressed redial.

Evan heard the sound of Alex’s voice answering hello on the other end, though, and turned back toward Amanda in a fury, snatching the phone from her and ending the call. He stepped back, then threw it hard at her, and although she tried to shield her face, it clipped her near the eye, then it slid under the bed, out of reach.

One of the stairs creaked.

Evan stepped out into the hallway, gun held nervously before him. He started to walk toward the stairway. Amanda gently left Rebecca’s
side, ignoring her soft sounds of panic. She looked for something to use as a weapon and saw a large vase filled with dried flowers on top of the dresser. Taking hold of it, she crept out of the bedroom.

Evan was just ahead of her, standing at the top of the stairs. If she aimed it just right…

Amanda heard a low growl.

“Shade, no, he’s got a gun!” she shouted, throwing the vase at Evan, which clipped him on the side of the head before it shattered somewhere below.

She turned on the hall light, hoping to help the dog see the gun.

But Evan was already firing at the dog. Shade kept coming. Evan turned the gun on Amanda.

Shade leaped, knocking him to the floor, then, moving between her and Evan, stood bristling, growling at him.

Evan hurriedly came to his feet. He raised the gun again.

Shade leaped again and sank his fangs into Evan’s throat.

The man burst into flames. His body, his arms, his legs, his face—all afire. His mouth opened as if to scream, and then he vanished.

Amanda stood frozen in shock.

The stairs showed no sign of burning. There were no ashes anywhere. Had she really seen…? Yes, there was Shade.

Shade looked up at her. For a brief moment she wondered if he was going to attack her next, but there was nothing fierce in his gaze. He sat calmly, as if he knew she was not ready to be approached.

“Don’t think me ungrateful,” she said, hearing her voice tremble, “but that scared the hell out of me.”

S
hade cocked his head, then rolled over, exposing his belly. Tyler had said that until that night in the desert, Shade had never struck this submissive pose for anyone but Tyler.

She moved cautiously down the hall and reached out a shaking hand to stroke his fur. It had a calming effect on her. She tried to discover if he had been hit anywhere, but he seemed unharmed. He came to his feet, and she buried her face in his soft fur. “Shade, help me. I know you know what to do. I’m so new to this, and I’m so scared.”

He softly nestled the crest of his head against her cheek, and made a kind of sighing sound. His breath was sweet and warm.

She again felt a sense of calm, one that allowed her to think more clearly. She reexamined Shade for any sign of injury, but although she could see places where bullets had struck the woodwork on the stairs and banister, he bore no wounds. She didn’t understand what had happened to Evan, but she had no time to worry about that now.

“Rebecca!” she said suddenly, and ran back down the hall. Shade followed at a more stately pace.

She entered the room to see her cousin cowering in fright.

“I know, I know,” Amanda said. “But he’s gone now. Shade…got rid of him for us.”

Rebecca looked gratefully at the dog.

“Hang on, let me find something to cut you loose.”

Amanda ignored the ringing of Tyler’s cell phone, somewhere under the bed, as she rummaged through a drawer and found a pair of scissors. She cut Rebecca’s hands and feet free of duct tape, then gently worked to pull it off her face. She had nearly completed this process when Shade came to his feet and went to the door.

Amanda tried not to be alarmed by this.

She let Rebecca manage the last of the tape. Rebecca drew a few deep breaths, then reached for Amanda and began to sob in her arms.

Even over these sounds, they both heard Shade growl.

Rebecca whispered, “He’s back!”

“No, no, he’s not.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said with a shudder.

“Amanda?” a familiar voice called.

“Alex! Yes, I’m here! Rebecca, too—we’re up here.”

“Umm, could you call Shade off?”

“Shade!” Amanda said, moving to the doorway. “You know Alex!”

Shade remained in a warning stance—high on his toes, back bristling, ears pitched forward.

“Oh!” Amanda said, seeing that Alex had her gun drawn. “It’s probably the gun. Put it away and I think he’ll let you up here.”

The moment Alex holstered the gun, the dog came forward to greet her in a friendly manner.

“What’s going on here?” Alex asked, seeing the bullet holes in the staircase.

“Long story, and we don’t have time for all of it now.” Out of immediate danger, all her fears for Tyler came rushing back. “Alex, they’ve taken Tyler. We need to get out of here and…”

“And what?”

Amanda looked in panic to Shade, who stared back at her. Never had she wished so much that he could talk. She tried to calm down.

“We need to get back to Tyler’s house,” she said, and the dog wagged his tail. “We’ll all be safer, and I—I can figure things out once we’re there.”

Rebecca hobbled out of the bedroom. She had Tyler’s cell phone in her hand. “Yes. Let’s get out of here. Please.” She began to gingerly make her way down the hall.

Alex lifted her brows in surprise. “You’re hurt! Let me help you.”

“Just twisted my ankle when I was—” She drew in a sharp breath. “I’ll be okay,” she said, then burst into tears again.

“Come on,” Amanda said as she and Alex each put an arm around her cousin’s shoulders and helped her down the stairs. “Let’s get you back to your brother.”

Alex drove them back in the van. She had brought several guards with her. Rebecca and Amanda sat in the far back, on the mattress, Shade nearby.

Rebecca gave Amanda Tyler’s phone. “Does your eye hurt?”

Amanda reached up to where the phone had struck her eyebrow ridge. “It’s a little bruised, that’s all.”

Rebecca’s voice dropped to a whisper as she said to Amanda, “You really saw them, didn’t you?”

“Your parents?” she whispered back. “Yes. I realize it’s a shock at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

“I remember when you told Brad and me that you had seen them. We ridiculed you.”

“Well, of course you did.”

Rebecca ducked her head. “Yes, ‘of course.’ That’s what I do best, isn’t it? Make fun of you.”

Amanda felt a brief temptation to milk these feelings of guilt for all they were worth, then decided against it. “I’m kind of amazed that you’re seeing them now, too, but it’s also something of a relief, if you know what I mean?”

“I thought I was going crazy.”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking that about myself for years. I have to know—are they wearing evening clothes?”

“No. Tennis whites.” She shivered. “The last thing I saw them wearing.”

“What do you know…” On the whole, Amanda thought, she was glad she saw them looking more elegant.

“This can’t be happening,” Rebecca said.

“You need some rest. I’m sure it’s all been horrible for you. I’m so sorry it took so long to free you.”

“You were…you were really brave.”

“I’m used to the ghosts,” she said.

“Not used to men with guns.”

“No,” Amanda admitted. “But don’t think I wasn’t scared, too.”

By the end of even the short ride back up the hill, Amanda was glad that she could hand Rebecca off to Brad and Ron. She found it unsettling to be around her cousin while she was in this mood. She thought of Rebecca as bold and daring—if often without regard for other people’s feelings. Seeing Rebecca scared and repentant was hard to take in.

“I’ll be up in Tyler’s rooms,” she told Ron and Alex. “Come and see me once you and Brad calm her down and take care of her cuts and bruises, okay?”

As she passed the library, she heard a dog pawing frantically at the doors. She took pity on Wraith and opened them. The dog bounded out of the room but went straight to Amanda, exuberantly circling her, wagging her tail and giving joyful barks. Shade joined in the celebration.

Amanda stood stock-still, momentarily paralyzed with fear—then told herself to relax. These were cemetery dogs. She must think of Wraith in the same way she thought of Shade.

“Well, yes,” she said over the din. “I’m glad to meet you, too. But we have work to do.”

Both dogs immediately grew quiet and stared at her.

She reached out carefully to touch Wraith. The dog’s fur was silky. Shade’s fur was pleasant to touch, but this dog—this dog’s fur was amazing. She felt suddenly that she would never have anything to fear from this dog. She wanted this dog, and if Tyler thought they weren’t going to keep it—why, she’d keep it herself.

She knelt beside Wraith, and the dog breathed softly onto her cheek. Like Shade’s, Wraith’s breath was warm and sweet, a scent that calmed her.

She found an unexpected sense of confidence. She could help Tyler. She wasn’t sure exactly how, but she would find him. Now—how to begin?

To her relief, her aunt and uncle appeared. Both dogs growled but ceased when she ordered them to be quiet. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she told the ghosts. “I’m trying to figure out what to do next. Can you help me?”

Her aunt and uncle both pointed to their wedding rings.

“I need to find the ring?”

Her aunt and uncle nodded.

“Shade,” Amanda said, “I could search the whole house and never find it. You’ve been at his side almost constantly. Do you know where the ring is?”

He immediately trotted into the library. Amanda and Wraith followed. Her aunt Catherine and uncle Jordan disappeared.

Once there, Shade became less helpful. He sat down on a rug in front of the hearth and stared at the fireplace. There was no fire burning now, so she bent to examine the grate. It was solid. None of the bricks was loose. She sighed and decided not to waste time trying to coax him. Feeling like a snoop, she began opening desk drawers. She found the pages Tyler had given her to read, and quickly reread the section in which Adrian had given Tyler the ring.

Adrian had told Tyler that if he accepted the bargain, the dog would always find him.

She looked up at Shade. “You can find Tyler?”

He barked.

“I’ll take that to be a yes.”

She frowned. The ghosts had been clear about needing to take the ring, or she’d urge Shade to take her to him now.

Wraith was staring at Shade.

No, she realized. Wraith was staring at something above Shade.

The mantelpiece.

She moved back to the fireplace. The front piece was a dark wood, carved in an intricate design, a series of Celtic knots into which a dragon was interwoven. She felt along it, looking for a secret latch or other mechanism. She found none.

Then she looked at the left side of the mantel, which faced a wall of books. Normally, no one would see it without coming around to this side and standing in a narrow space between the mantel and the shelves.

The end of the mantel was carved with a winged death’s-head.

“Memento mori,”
she said.

The dogs were now looking at her expectantly.

She studied the figure and realized that one of the eyes of the skull looked a little different from the other. Its surface was slightly smoother.

She pressed it, and a drawer slid forward.

She pulled, and it came free, spilling its contents at her feet.

More than one hundred silver mourning rings rolled across the hardwood floor.