Under My Skin (7 page)

It woke me, and I felt the absence of Lanie and the absence of Elijah. I was happy for them, but the hollowness that replaced their presence was knee-buckling. Had I been standing I’d have had to sit down.

“You there?”

They were. I could feel them hovering along the edges of my awareness. Her presence being bigger and brighter and sweeter with the addition of him. Their final wish was to help me rid the house of . To send him off to wherever dark, hungry energy went. Lanie had given me just the information I needed, and I was hell-bent on sending him off into the shadows while they went off into the light.

Then maybe I could heal.

I was dressed and brushing my sleep-tangled hair when the true reality of the situation dawned on me.

“Your body,” I sighed, resting my head on the bed.

The neighbors…

Now that they were together, that internal voice was doubly strong. An echo of voice over voice that made me smile. “You guys are so damn cute,” I snorted.

I was tired, I was grieving, I felt sort of alone, and I had a body to deal with. But Elijah had told me that his neighbor Rhea came to check on him every day. She’d find him, and it would be obvious to anyone that he’d passed in his sleep.

Because I did…

I, of all people, should know better, but I still felt bad leaving his body there that way. It was just a vessel, yes. An empty one, at that. But it was the vessel of a good and kind man, and it somehow felt wrong to leave him all alone. When I had gathered all my stuff, I leaned over and kissed his forehead, though I could feel his spirit hovering on the edges of the room with Lanie.

“Sleep well,” I said softly and then to them, “Now let’s go. Let’s get rid of Montgomery, and you two can go off into the heavenly sunset together.”

I left the house feeling a little lighter in my soul, but under it all, I felt trepidation. wasn’t a soft soul; he was an evil presence who liked pain and death even after his own passing. I walked the few blocks to my house slowly, my moccasins quiet on the macadam still wet with morning dew. If I hadn’t been so tired and nervous, I’d have laughed at myself. It was quite the walk of shame to be leaving the house of a dead man.

My house was sealed tight, and I leaned over the low stone wall to my bedroom patio and dropped my bag. I wanted my hands free if came after me again. Whether it be as himself, the way he did with Lanie, or with his waspy minions.

“Come on, big boy. Try to push me down the steps.” I used my key to enter and rummaged quickly under the kitchen sink where I’d sealed the box I was looking for.

I was an equal opportunity spiritualist. I used whatever in my arsenal I thought would work on a damaged and violent spirit. I pulled out the sage stick and lit it before I felt him register I was home. My Native American blood—way back in my genetic history, but still prevalent in my beliefs—called to me to use sage to cleanse Montgomery House of this man. My great-great-great grandmother had been a full-blooded Cherokee. Who was I to ignore what felt like her input from the afterlife?

I felt Lanie and Elijah, a new spirit but a good strong presence, enter. There was a buzzing, one wasp, two wasps, but the sage that would help cleanse ’s icky energy would also stun the winged attackers.

“A little birdie told me that you had a hedgerow you yourself planted. That you tended it the way a person might tend a child or a beloved animal. After your wife died, it was your obsession. You didn’t have her to belittle and bully any more. I hear that you put your blood sweat and tears into that stupid hedgerow,” I muttered. He could hear me whether I shouted or whispered. I glanced out my big kitchen window to see the hedgerow in question. It was in fact, what separated that bit of my property from Carla’s.

I set the sage down in an ashtray. It still gave off ribbons of potent smoke. Under the sink was a bottle of lighter fluid and a bunch of grill matches. I didn’t know if would put it together, but I did hope that Lanie and Elijah would have my back.

“You know, there is an old belief in salt and holy water for your kinds of spirits,” I said, conversationally. I left the sage burning on the counter as I unlocked the kitchen door and stepped outside. I felt a sudden vacuum sensation when voided my house and came outside with me. That hedgerow Lanie had clued me into during our final brainstorming session really did mean something to him.

Dappled with the blood of his victims,
Lanie said in my head, and I shuddered.

“I tend to use whatever works. I think salt and holy water would have
some
effect on you.
Maybe
. But I think the old standby of burning something that is tied to a spirit is the key here. You are a bad, bad man, Chadwick Montgomery, and I’m here to burn your house down.” I doused the hedgerow with a squirt of lighter fluid. I ran down the eight food hedge line squeezing the bottle as hard as I could until nothing but a wheeze of air escaped it.

“Metaphorically speaking, of course. Because your house is now my house. I bet that really lights a fire under your ass, doesn’t it?” I chuckled at my own unintentional joke. “A bitch like me. Daring to be strong in your home? Daring to stand up to you and maybe even get the better of you.”

The hair along the back of my neck prickled and I knew, even as I repressed a shiver, I was getting a rise out of the man of the house.

He was strong because I got a sudden and solid image of him. He materialized right before me which was a bigger feat than being a flickering apparition from a distance. The hair along my arms joined in the fray and my skin tingled with his menacing presence. Up close and personal like this, holding a visage is a hell of a lot of expended energy for a ghost. He was feeding off his own anger.

I pulled out a match but didn’t light it. I wanted him closer. I wanted him gone.

He grinned at me and those dark-dark eyes sent a chill through me. I could imagine him killing the maid. Taking a life would be nothing but evil fodder for a person like . I could picture this monster, reveling in the death of the laundress. Eager and hungry for poor Lanie’s death when she showed up like a present dropped in his lap. Another soul for him to gulp down and relish.

I clenched my jaw, waiting for him to get a bit closer to me. “I think you need to get out of my house now. This is one woman who won’t succumb to your whole evil spirit shtick.”

He glowered, flickered, advanced on me. His malignant energy licking at the edges of mine.

Elijah came rushing out of nowhere. I felt the whoosh and blow of his presence, then I felt the way ’s energy slammed Elijah’s fragile, newly passed spirit back. It was a cracking blow that sounded like an audible pop in my head.

“Bastard,” I said, and struck the match. I paused long enough to savor the moment. Very unlike me. I tended to shy away from negative emotions, but this was going to be good. Exactly what Chadwick deserved. Plus, the brief break in the proceedings gave Elijah a chance to bolster his energy. I felt him recover quickly.

Elijah moved forward again. Eager to protect me even in death. slammed his bigger, darker energy into Elijah’s, and it rattled him so hard it clacked my teeth together with empathy. I set the flaming match to the hedgerow and watched it catch. turned his attention to me, a keening sound coming off him only I (and possibly some neighborhood dogs) could hear. I held my ears as he shrieked, his rage so palpable it made my jaw ache as I clenched my teeth from the atrocious sound. When he rushed to hover close to his beloved bushes, presumably sprinkled with the blood of his unfortunate victims, it was sweet Lanie who hurried forward. A seasoned spirit, Lanie was strong in her own right. She shoved hard, and I experienced a sensation of tearing followed by a pop like a shoulder being displaced from its socket. For a moment, the fire burned high and ragged as if it had been fed extra oxygen by the sudden offering of ’s spirit, his soul. Then it died down to a smolder, and I felt a surge of energy emanate from the shrub as if were rallying, possibly breaking free from the conflagration.

A new sensation came over me and I realized Lanie’s stronger spirit had joined with Elijah’s fledgling soul. I briefly saw them hurtling toward the fire. On a whim, I added my own psychic intention to the fray, hoping that it would help them defeat . The power of intention is amazing; it can protect, and it can destroy. The three of us intended that Chadwick Montgomery never hurt another soul.

It’s hard to tell what will rid you of a spirit. Some things work on some, not on others. But as a medium, you do know when one is gone. It wasn’t instantaneous. ’s dark intentions reared up to flick filthy shadows over the white, benign light of the couple. He fought in the burning bushes, clinging to his evil history. But after the reunited lovers overtook him, joined once again against the man who had torn them apart, they overpowered him and suddenly, was gone. Lanie’s pure white soul had defeated his tainted presence. Augmented by the love and goodness of Elijah, Lanie had destroyed with cleansing flames fed by none other than the twisted trophies from his kills.

There was a sudden cool wind across my brow, making my hair toss and whirl around my face. I heard a pleasant laugh and a deeper chuckle. Something in the energy of my home and heart shifted, and when I turned to say thanks to Lanie and Elijah, they were already gone, their beautiful lingering for just a few seconds before the breeze blew again and seemed to carry it away. I blew them a kiss and tried not to cry. I suddenly felt very lonely in my new home. Safer and saner now that was gone, but a little lost since Lanie and Elijah had gone. I was alone now, the ending of our odd journey having happened so fast.

In my pocket my cell phone rang. I answered while my bushes continued to burn a little and then started to gutter out. “Hello?”

“Where have you been?” My sister was off and shrieking.

I let her go for a few moments and then interrupted. “Minuet!” was the only thing that got her to stop.

“You know I hate when you call me that.”

“Then hush. I was…um…with a friend.”

I heard her gasp and then chuckle. “Oh. Well. Anything potentially serious?”

I thought of them drifting off together. Elijah and Lanie, lost to each other and then reunited. “Nope. Just together for a couple nights kind of thing.”

“Well, let me say, I have met the nicest man for you if you’re interested.”

I forced myself to say it. It was time to move on past Justin and now past the brief and fleeting, but bright and shiny interlude with Elijah. “Sure. I’ll take a shot.”

She babbled on for a few minutes and then I finally said, “Minnie, I need a shower and food and all that jazz. Let me call you later.”

I sighed, suddenly exhausted and watched the rest of my hedge turn to nothing but smoking sticks.

I glanced up to see Carla standing there, wide mouthed and wide eyed. “Oh my gosh, Juliet, what—”

I snorted, giddy with relief. “Termites,” I said. “Filthy, niggling termites. Didn’t want them back in the house. The house had them once, but never again,” I said, eyeing the remains. “Never again.”

I’d change, eat and then thoroughly smudge the house with sage and seal the doors and windows with salt. No more vermin in my house. Ever.

I waved to Carla and went inside to get out of my clothes. They reeked of smoke and burnt green foliage.

Good job, Juliet, my love
.

I blinked, tears flooding my eyes. “Justin?” I whispered.

I felt the fleeting weight of his touch, then another small whisper, and he was gone. Then I knew. It had been me all along. I’d been shut down and shut off from him because of my crushing pain. The loss of him had deafened me to his spirit. I’d opened myself up in that moment, and it allowed my fears to fall away. He was present, he loved me, he was proud. He was okay.

Everything would be okay. I’d meet this guy my sister wanted me to meet and whether there was a connection or not, it would all work out in the end. The time had come. I’d move forward.

About the Author

Sommer Marsden is the wine-swigging, fat-dachshund owning, wanna be runner author of multiple erotic novels. She's also gotten it in her head to edit a collection or three. Sommer currently writes erotica and erotic romance from her funky little Baltimore home. Sommer's short work can be found in over a hundred erotica anthologies and in numerous print magazines.

Sommer is the proud owner of one man, one boy child and a girl child to round it all out. She likes to drive winding roads, crank up music and sing way too loud for inspiration. When she's not writing (which is rare) she can be found reading good books, quilting, baking, crocheting, taking long walks with her man and their wiener and hanging out with her kids in front of an 80s movie or a good TV show. You can find out more about Sommer's online work and current projects or read her serial novel Wanderlust at SommerMarsden.blogspot.com

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