Wraiths of Winter (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 3) (24 page)

“And Zach, of course. I’ll always have Zach.” But in
what way?
I used to think he would leave me because of the
drama. Now, I was afraid that my drama was his only reason
for staying.
Since the day I met Lucas, black had become
white,
up had morphed
into down. I wasn’t sure about
anything anymore.

Rachel
seemed
convinced—for
now—that
her
brother’s relationship was still intact. “You’ll always have him
and me, too. Don’t forget that. Let me know what Rita says,
okay? And I’ll talk to Boone about getting some information
out of Drake about what happened on Halloween.”

“I will. Call me after rehearsal and I’ll fill you in.” I
smiled so she wouldn’t see the confusion below the surface.
But the second I turned my back, it faded. I walked back into
Rosewood not quite the same person I was when I left it.

Zach must have called me the second Rachel filled him
in on the details. If I’d thought it was possible to convince her
not to tell him about my encounter with Allison, I would have
tried. But I knew it wasn’t, so the only thing I could do was
downplay anything she told him.
If he thought she was
exaggerating—which
she
was
totally
guilty
of
in
any
situation—he would have less to worry about and less reason
to don the superhero cape.

“It really wasn’t that big of a deal, Zach.
Trust me.
Rachel blew it way out of proportion.”

“She cut you, Ruby! How can you say it was no big
deal?” His voice was full of worry and panic. Just what I
didn’t
want to hear.

“It was more of a scratch, actually,” I said casually.
A
scratch that hurt like hell. I dabbed an alcohol wipe down the
length of it as we talked, careful not to audibly wince in pain
as it stung my skin.

“Cut, scratch—whatever you want to call it, you’re
bleeding,” he argued. “Maybe I should come with you to the
theater tomorrow, you know, just in case you need me.”

Okay, so
that
was
the
last thing
I wanted—or
needed—to hear. “I’m actually skipping rehearsal tomorrow
night. Rita won’t be back from her weekend trip until Sunday.
I want to talk to her about Allison before I go back into the
Bantam.”

The panic in his voice eased. “That’s a good idea. I’ll
meet you at Something Wick-ed after work Sunday. I want to
hear what she has to say.”

Dammit! If he was there, I wouldn’t be able to tell Rita
everything. There had to be a way to change his mind. “I was
actually hoping you would pick us up some movies and then
meet me at Rosewood instead. Tomorrow’s a school night,
remember. If we don’t plan things perfectly, we won’t have a
lot of time to spend together.”

Zach hesitated. “Do you promise to tell me everything
she says?”

 

“Promise,” I agreed. After watering it down, of course.

 

“Okay,” he said, followed by a long pause.

Silence after that meant only one thing. He was about
to ask me what happened with Lucas. At least I knew Rachel
couldn’t have told him that Lucas said he loved me because
she didn’t know he said it. So I decided to skip the song and
dance and tell him that I drove Lucas home.

“Yeah, so a light fell on the stage and almost killed
Lucas. He was a hot mess after that so I drove his car home
for him.” There. That ought to do it.

“Rachel told me. She also told me that you seemed
different afterwards. Care to elaborate?”

No, not really but I had to anyway. “Different? Maybe.
Lucas was really upset by what happened.
He was talking
about how it felt to be so close to death. It made me think
about all of the times I almost died. I got a little depressed I
guess.” Good enough excuse? I certainly thought so. It was
plausible, very, very plausible.

And Zach thought so, too. “Getting pushed down those
stairs was the closest I’ve ever come to death. I can’t even
imagine how it feels to be you. Are you feeling better now?”

“I am now that I’m talking to you,” I replied, happy
that he wasn’t digging any further into the details of tonight.
And I
did
feel better while talking to him. Even in my darkest
moments, he managed to shine a light for me to follow. And I
followed it extra closely now. As we talked, Lucas’s
confession faded into the recesses of my brain, faded in the
shadow of how Zach made me feel. When our conversation
ended, I curled up in bed with Coco convinced that he loved
me for the right reasons.
I should have known
another
nightmare was on the horizon.

I walked onstage at the Bantam Theater, the heels of
my boots rapping rhythmically across the hardwood floor.
The
interior
of
the
theater
was
pristine,
every
inch
refurbished and gleaming in the glow of the chandelier.
The
mingled scents of lavender and lemon were a far cry from the
usual odor of death and misery.
I came to the edge of the
stage and stood staring out at the grandeur. I had a sense of
peace and satisfaction. This was how the theater
should
be.

Then in the center of the theater, something began to
change. It was like someone flipped the switch from color to
black and white. The dingy velvet seats were draped in dust,
the wood floor was
all
but rotted away.
Two figures
appeared—one just off stage to my left, the other at the far
corner of the theater, just below the balcony.

One by one, the tiny bulbs of the chandelier began to
pop and explode. Bursts of blinding light escaped each one
just before they went dark as though they were emitting their
dying breaths. The sizzle of raw electricity hung in the air,
wisps of smoke flew from the exposed wires. Wallpaper fell
from
the
walls
in
sheets;
the
carpeting
seemed to be
unraveling itself. Flakes of plaster fell from the ceiling in ever
growing chunks.
The once beautiful Bantam was somehow
destroying itself.

I had to get out before everything caved in. But which
way should I go?
The emergency exits on both sides were
blocked by falling beams.
The main entrance at the back sat
below the balcony that swayed precariously as the building
shook. The figure at the back of the theater called out to me.

“This way, Ruby! I’ll get you out of here safely!” Zach
shouted, his hand extended toward me. “You have to trust
me!”

The figure to my left spoke up. “No, Ruby, don’t!
There’s a better way—a safer way. Follow
me
!” Lucas cried,
pointing backstage.

I turned to see where he was gesturing. Off stage, the
destruction was minimal.
The only thing out of place was a
crystal vase lying shattered on the floor. It seemed like the
best way out. Why would Zach want to lead me through the
chaos when all I had to do was slip out the back door?

“No!” Zach screamed over the sound of splintering
wood. “There’s no such thing as an easy way out! You have to
believe me!”

“He’s wrong,” Lucas instantly chimed in. “There’s
always an easy way out—let me show you.” He took a step
closer and held out his hand.

I couldn’t decide which way to go. Going with Lucas
made sense but I couldn’t ignore Zach. What if he was right?
What if the easy way out wasn’t so easy after all? As they both
pleaded
with
me
to
follow
them,
I
held
my
ground.
Figuratively, but definitely not literally. The boards beneath
my feet rocked back and forth, slowly at first, then wildly like
a rowboat in a typhoon.
Before I could decide, the stage
swallowed itself and me along with it. I fell into an endless pit
of darkness a split second after finally knowing which way I
should have gone.

But as often happens with dreams, I awoke unable to
recall the revelation I had as I plummeted into the depths. It
wasn’t my usual brand of nightmare. No, this one was much
different.
Memories of the theater collapsing around me
weren’t the worst part of it. The recollection of how torn I
was between Zach and Lucas was what frightened me the
most. If only I could erase the sound of the words “I love you”
coming from Lucas’s lips. But I couldn’t and I had the
unmistakable sense
that something
changed forever last
night.
I was at an emotional crossroads and there was no
turning back now. A tough decision lay before me regardless
of how I looked at it. Falling back to sleep was impossible so I
pulled out my laptop and wrote until morning arrived.

I must have checked my phone a billion times on
Saturday hoping for a text from Lucas. But what did I want
that text to say? Did I want him to take back that heartfelt
confession by claiming it was the shock that made him say it?
Or did I want him to confirm it, to profess his undying love for
me? Either one would have been better than hearing nothing.

I turned down Zach’s offer to join the Masons for
dinner in
favor of working
on my
term
paper for
Mr.
Raspatello.
He was disappointed but understood perfectly
well that school had to come first. What he didn’t know was
that I finished my term paper during study hall on Friday.
Instead, I isolated myself in my room with my laptop and
worked on my book until I couldn’t stop my eyelids from
closing. Writing seemed to be my only escape from the mixed
feelings
I was
having, the
only
way
to recapture a less
tumultuous time.
In the morning, I reread what I wrote,
amazed at what I found hidden between the lines.

Rita was due back in town at six so I closed the shop
and hung around to wait for her.
I read every file in her
cabinet while dealing with Garnet but nothing in there even
remotely matched the description of what I was experiencing
with Allison. Shades, phantoms, spirits—all were mentioned
but bore no resemblance to what was
happening in
that
theater.
Allison was definitely in a class all by herself but
what if Rita had never even
dealt with
something
so
malevolent? I knew the accident on the bridge that day would
stick with me forever but I never anticipated how greatly it
would change my life.

I was lost in thought and the sudden sound of Rita’s
key in the door startled me. Geez, you would think my nerves
could handle more than that by now.
I emerged from the
office to help her bring in her bags and gave
her
a start, as
well. Some ghost hunters we were.

“Ruby, I didn’t expect to find you here. When I saw
the lights on, I just thought you forgot to turn them off.” Rita
bustled into the back of the shop with suitcase still in hand.
She looked the same as always but there was something
different about her. It must have been a good investigation
because she looked incredibly happy.

“Can I talk to you about something—something
paranormal?” I sat down in the seat by the desk and she made
herself comfortable in her leather desk chair. It felt oddly like
a psychiatrist/patient relationship.
Hmm, was there such a
thing as a paranormal psychiatrist? If not there should be—
there was a definite market for it in this town.

“So what’s going on? Didn’t you take care of that
ghost at school months ago?”

“I did but there’s a new ghost in town.” I paused to
admire Rita’s new amethyst ring and the perfect French
manicure just below it. She never got her nails done—what
inspired the new look? There were more pressing issues at
hand so I stifled my curiosity about her change in personal
grooming habits and continued on. “This time I know who
she is and how she died.
What I really need to know is who
murdered her.”

Rita listened intently as I described the details of
Allison’s disappearance and murder then moved on to my
encounters with her. The further I plunged into my account
the more worried she looked. When I got to the part about
my arm being sliced, she began to tap her fingernails sharply
against the desk. I couldn’t let her ruin that fabulous new
mani on my account so I flattened my hand against hers to
stop the rhythmic rapping.

“So that’s everything. What am I up against here?” I
asked cheerfully, all the while knowing the answer wouldn’t
be anything to cheer about.

Rita sucked in a slow breath and held it momentarily
before exhaling. “Well, I’ve never actually encountered one
myself but it sounds like a wraith to me.”

What a relief. One of Rita’s earlier case files told the
story
of a playful yet slightly impish entity
in
a college
dormitory in West Virginia. It was one of the first files I read,
so she must have forgotten about it. “Yes, you have! I
remember reading about it in one of your files. It was one of
the funnier cases you investigated so I remember it well. This
shouldn’t be a problem at all.” Finally, a little bit of good luck
for a change.

“No, Ruby. What I encountered on that college
campus wasn’t a wraith. That was in my early days as a ghost
hunter before I realized there was an organized hierarchy of
ghosts. Back then, I gave my cases names that sounded good
with total disregard for accuracy. What you’re facing is
something very dangerous.”

So much for good luck.
Wraith.
about it, it was a scary sounding word.
Now that I thought
It brought to mind

ancient
stone castles
with hidden torture chambers
and
horrors beyond belief.
So minus the castle part, it fit my
situation perfectly.