whiskey witches 01 - whisky witches (15 page)

T
RU STEPPED OUT
of another room. “Find anything?”

Warmth from Dexx’s fingertips seeped into the cold base of Paige’s lower back. “You are going to piss yourself when you review the tapes.”

“Really.” Tru’s face lit up like someone told him Santa was real. “What happened?”

“Paige was attacked.”

“Holy shit. Paige, are you okay?”

She nodded, the slight movement tugging on her sore neck. “Yeah, but I’d sure like to be done now.”

Tru winced at Dexx. “We could check out the cellar later, another day?”

“We could take her back to her room?”

“I’m not staying by myself, guys. I know I’m a big girl, all grown up, but I am not staying by myself.”

Both men were good and refrained from laughing.

Tru screwed his lips to the side, his expression folded in worry. “You’re sure you’re okay.”

He did care. How sweet. “Banged and bruised, but good. Frightened as all hell, but good.”

He released a puff of breath. “Okay. Well, D, we’ll just come back tomorrow night.”

Dexx glanced at her. “You want to break down or keep it set up?”

“Keep it set up. I’ve got the whole weekend. I was just going to record and see what I came up with. You won’t believe the equipment I’ve got set up.”

Paige set the Mel and the camera on the table next to her, her hands still shaking. Shaking? Seriously? She hoped the boys didn’t notice. “You know what? We’re here. Let’s just do it.”

“No.” Tru went to the corner and laid a hard-sided case on the floor, popping it open. “You were attacked.”

“Typically, that means go investigate.”

“I’ve got cameras up. Safety first.” He turned back to his case, stashing the hand-held equipment. “Les is already going to kill me.”

Paige shook out her hands and feet. “No. Come on. Just really quick.”

Dexx and Tru exchanged a look.

“Okay,” Tru rose from storing his electronics. “If you’re sure.”

“We’re paranormal investigators tonight, right? Being pushed by invisible people is part of the job description.”

“Actually, not really. Pushed?” He opened the front door for her and Dexx. “Seriously?”

“Like he said. You’re gonna piss yourself.”

They walked out of the house and around to the side. The night was quiet and cool.

Tru threw open the large wooden doors leading down to the cellar.

Paige paused. “Do you hear that?” No sounds. No cars. No insects. No breeze. Nothing.

Dexx met her gaze in the near darkness, one eyebrow raised. “Something’s going on.”

Paige stared at the slave shack she knew was out there somewhere beyond her sight. “Connected to the case, or an anomaly?”

“Now, that’s a damn good question.” Dexx retreated through the cellar stairwell.

“Ah, fuck.” She squared her shoulders then descended the stairs after Tru. Solid earth met her feet at the bottom. Shelves lined the walls. Dust and must choked the air.

Dexx touched one of the jars on the shelves that looked as though they’d been around since before the Revolutionary War. “So this is what happens to . . . I can’t even tell what these are.”

“Guys,” Tru said, his eyes glued to the screen. “You’ve gotta see this.”

They walked to his side. The screen of the thermal camera showed everything in the room in hues of the heat-directed color spectrum. The solid walls were a brilliant red. However, the far corner blazed white.

“What the hell is that?” Paige asked.

“Let’s get some readings.” Tru grabbed the EMF reader from his pocket, handing the thermal imager to Dexx. He started his sweep away from the odd corner. “Base reading of the room is a point five. But the closer I get to that corner, the hotter it gets. Three point two. Three point eight.”

Paige edged toward the far corner, her body tight. The cool touch of the night dissipated as she drew nearer. She found it harder and harder to breathe. “Do you smell that?”

Dexx shook his head. The screen of the thermal camera cast a green illumination on his face. “Over the dirt?”

“It smells like something’s dead,” Tru said, standing just behind her.

“Sulfur.” Dexx’s hand shot out and grabbed Paige. “Demons.”

“Great. Something I can deal with.” Though she didn’t feel strong enough to deal with them. Not at the moment.

“I got a bad feeling about this, guys,” Dexx said. “Let’s pack it up.”

Tru shined his light on Paige. “You don’t look so good.”

“It’s just—” Her chest constricted. Spots of bright light scattered before her eyes. A wave of dizziness attacked her. Voices intruded her mind. An invisible fist slammed against her mental shields. Visions flashed behind her eyelids.

“Sit down.” Dexx dragged her toward the old wooden steps.

The voices crowded inward, forcing her thoughts in every direction. “Dexx, something’s wrong.” She leaned back on the steps, closing her eyes.

Dexx looked at Tru “You catching anything? Is this paranormal, or is she safe?”

Tru pulled another camcorder out of one of his other pockets. He turned it on and placed it on a shelf, pointing it to the corner. He pulled out the LCD screen. “I got a shadow. Maybe we should just go. Let the evidence talk to us in the morning.”

“Could the shadow be one of ours?”

“Nope. Not us. Dude, I’m spooked, and I don’t spook.”

Dexx returned his attention to Paige, a worried frown furrowing his brow. “How often do people get pushed? Violently pushed in a house your wife cleared?” His gaze flicked in the direction of the far corner. “Set your equipment quickly. We need to get out of here.”

Tru stopped, his EMF reader out in front of him. “This thing’s spiking. The energy’s building. We’re in double digits. Guys.”

“My arsenal’s in the trunk of my car.”

“We’ve gotta go!”

Paige shuddered, her entire world shrinking. The lack of oxygen to the brain distorted everything. Dexx’s and Tru’s voices sounded like they were under water.

“Let’s get her out of here. Now.” Dexx took her arm, shoving her up the stairs.

A guttural roar echoed through the room.

Dexx stumbled. “What the fuck?”

Paige’s world tilted, angled to one side. Sound sliced through her head like a knife; a river, a tree breaking, a car door, a woman screaming.

“What the hell are you doing, man?” Dexx shouted.

Chief White stood at the top of the stairs, one of the doors of the cellar in his hand. “You’re not going anywhere.” A crazed gleam boiled in his eyes as he let the door drop.

Scrambling up the remaining steps, Dexx leapt through the door, tackling the larger man to the ground and out of sight.

Tru’s eyes widened. “Shit.” He pulled her into the cool night air.

White leaned over Dexx’s prone form. He turned toward her, his face twisted into a crazed mask.

Paige’s mind worked as if being dragged through mud. She could almost hear something. Someone spoke to her, saying something she should understand. She blinked lazily.

The tall, dark man came to her, picking her up by her upper arms. He held her that way for a long moment, her feet dangling off the ground. His eyes held an almost visible flame of fury. “You won’t be dashin’ off, love. We can’t have that, now can we?”

“Fuck.” Dexx stood up, holding his abdomen. “Tru, man, you all right?”

“Oh, shit.” Tru’s eyes were glued on Paige and White. “Is that—that can’t be—”

Dexx started toward White.

The chief threw Paige down the stairs as if she were nothing more than a ragdoll. Each step bit into her body as she hit it; back, leg, back, arm. Her foot kicked one of the many shelves. Her head slammed against the hard dirt. Dazed, she watched in stunned and almost detached amazement as the doors slammed solidly shut.

Light-headed, she dragged herself painfully to her feet. Dear God in Hell! Her head.

At last, a rich, darkly masculine voice said in a slight accent. My release from this torment. I can stop the witch now as I could not before. You shall be my instrument. You will save lives.

“No,” Paige swayed where she stood.

A glass jar levitated in the far corner. It paused for a moment before racing toward her. Paige raised her hands to protect her face, but the jar hit her head, shards of glass raining down on her as she crumbled to the ground. A horrible odor covered her. What had been in that jar? Cold leeched into her where the foul liquid made direct contact with her skin.

Pain iced through her face and arms. Daggers of fire laced her back where she lay on pieces of broken glass. The pitch black room was silent.

She felt a sharp ache in her left ankle where she had twisted it on her way down the stairs. The first time. She heard a loud thump on the cellar doors. Tru shouted her name, but the heaviness in her chest wrapped tighter, cutting off any air.

She lay there dazed, helpless and unable. A pungent odor sent her mind scurrying deeper into the far caverns of her mind. A cold, invisible hand caressed her arm. She whimpered.

I will not fail this time, love, Lucius promised. Your sacrifice will not be in vain. I will keep the gate closed.

“Not through me,” Paige said softly. She stared into the darkness, fighting for control of her thoughts and emotions. “Not through me.”

Yes, love. I’m very sorry. Through you.

His arms wrapped around her as he pulled her into his ethereal lap. His presence seeped through her skin, deep into her body. A branding iron of will pushed her back, deeper and farther away, severing the connection between her body and her mind. No!

His ethereal hand brushed against the spot on her back where Dexx had traced his protective mark. The assault paused, retracted and then hit her full-force, pushed at her soul, tearing at her with a ferocity she had never felt before.

The harder he fought, the more ground he lost, power leeching from her tattoo. With a growl of rage, he flung himself away from her, disappearing from the room, from her thoughts, from her heart, and even from her gut.

She collapsed onto the ground, air finally filling her lungs in huge gulps. He was gone.

But for how long?

P
AIGE HAD BEEN
coherent enough to mutter, “Gone,” before she passed out. The EMT’s had tried reviving her at the scene, and again in the ambulance on the way to the clinic, but no luck.

Dexx sank into the chair beside Paige’s hospital bed. They’d just brought her in. They weren’t sure what else to do with her and another emergency had just shown up. Someone shot. That trumped a comatose woman who, by rights, could simply be sleeping.

Sleeping. Dexx didn’t know what to do. She looked like she’d lost thirteen rounds in a match with a heavy-weight. Her wet and straggly hair had a thick aroma that left a bad taste in his mouth. Had something been dumped on her? When had that happened? It had to have happened when she’d been alone in the cellar. Maybe that was why they couldn’t wake her.

A dark dread grew like a fast-moving storm in his chest. He needed help. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the recent contacts.

“Mmm?” Leslie mumbled.

“I need your help.”

“Hello to you too. Do you have any idea what time—Jesus, Dexx. It’s three o’clock in the morning. Don’t you have anything else better to do? Sleep is a precious thing.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Paige was coated in an oil of some kind and now she won’t wake up.”

Leslie rustled around. “I’m lost. What happened?”

He ran his fingertip over Paige’s forehead, then rubbed the oily substance between his thumb and forefinger. “Looks like she was doused in something. She was attacked by a ghost before and then something strange happened in the cellar. Could be possible possession? Though, nothing like I’ve ever heard before.”

“What?” Leslie demanded. Her bright and alarmingly alert voice blared through the phone. “I need information. Now.”

Dexx wiped his fingers on his pants. Whiskey women. They scared the crap out of him. “We were investigating the haunting of the Metley Plantation—”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Paige went with you?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s out of the ordinary.”

“We hit a wall in the case, so I figured this would be a good, safe thing for her to do. It should have been a clean investigation.”

“But it wasn’t?”

He ran his hand over his head. “Things were active, Les, and it was centered on Paige, and then when we went down to the cellar, things got fucking weird as shit.”

“Define fucking weird as shit,” she said in a hard tone that sent gooseflesh down Dexx’s spine.

He swallowed hard. “We saw an anomaly on the thermal. The EMF had a really weird spike. Then, Paige started acting weird. And then there was the thing with the cop.”

“What thing with the cop?”

“He—well, he, um—hmm.” How to say it out loud while remaining alive. Could mediums kill people over the phone? “I think he was possessed. I talked to him afterward and he didn’t remember a thing.”

The line was silent.

Dead silent.

Dexx began to sweat. Maybe he should have called the scary one, Alma. “Look, we had no idea a demon would show up on a ghost haunt. Okay? Could you not kill me?”