The Sugar Hill Collection

by M. L. Bullock

  And who was she talking to? One of her paranormal folks? Keep walking, Avery.

  I headed farther down the hall but was distracted by another sound. A strange rustling came from the library. It sounded like someone turning the pages of a book and rather quickly. Could Reed have gotten up? Holding the tray with one hand, I opened the door. It came open easily; the room was dark, and the place smelled like old leather, wood polish and dusty books. I flipped the wall switch, but the light didn’t come on. I could see a little, though, thanks to the moonlight filtering through the curtains. The room was small, and each wall was lined with books. A fantastic plush antique rug covered a section of the room, and I found an empty table near a leather chair and set the tray down. I walked to the desk, sat down and turned on the gold-toned lamp. At least that worked.

  I glanced around the room and found no one here. Not Reed, not anyone. I walked to the window, but it wasn’t open. What could have made that sound? Then my eyes fell upon the book, and I caught my breath in surprise. It was one of Vertie’s journals! Had I brought that with me? Maybe, but I sure didn’t remember putting it in this study. How did it get in here? I never used this room and had only poked my head in a few times during my two short stays.

  But there was no mistaking it. It was Vertie’s. The old book had a denim cover, and her name was engraved in the bottom right corner, just like all the other journals in her private library. With shaking fingers, I picked it up and flipped the stiff pages. They made the same sound I’d heard just a few minutes ago. Subtly, slowly, the room began to fill with Vertie’s presence. I knew it was her! I could feel her warmth around me, smell the lemony perfume that she wore on special occasions. I heard the clinking of her many bracelets, and then as quickly as she appeared, she was gone again.

  “Vertie?”

  In life Vertie had been a force to be reckoned with, and that was apparently true in the afterworld as well. Maybe that was why she came, just to tell me she was watching over me. There must be something significant hidden in this book. I clutched it to my bosom, sighed and whispered, “Thank you, Vertie.”

  I didn’t ponder what it all meant. I knew what it meant. The message was clear: Read this book, now!

  Chapter Fourteen – Avery

  You must hate me for keeping so many secrets from you, Avery. What irony that I would be a secret keeper when I hate secrets. You know this! Never cared for the damn things. Secrets are like hidden snakes that strike at you when you least expect them to. But as it turns out, I am the secret keeper. I am the snake handler. And for that, I’m truly sorry.

  I won’t waste your time with a lot of flowery nonsense. I’m sure you’re getting that by the truckload from various cousins and friends who seek to gain something by doing so. I was fooling myself thinking I could keep you hidden away—blood speaks to blood. And now my stupidity has likely put you in further danger.

  I knew this was true the day your father died. I saw the Lovely Man then, standing near us, smiling at you. I saw him, and I did and said nothing.

  I remembered the cold touch I’d felt that day. How it alarmed me, how it felt like death. Later, after I found out about my parents, I knew it was death. But it was him? It was Ambrose?

  Before you came into my life, I thought being a parent was the hardest thing I would ever do. But the truth of the matter is that being a grandparent is even harder. As a grandparent, you get the benefit of hindsight. If you’re wise, which I hope I am in some respects, you recognize the mistakes you made raising your children and try not to repeat them with your grandchildren. Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. I’ll leave the honest appraisal to you and to history. There’s nothing I can do about any of it now.

  Unfortunately, neither of those occupations, parent or grandparent, comes with a handbook. One day, if it’s safe, I hope you are blessed by such an experience. For you have been a blessing to me, Avery. In every respect.

  And for the record, I do not regret for one minute having taken you out of Belle Fontaine and away from that horrid pit of vipers. While many are charming, you should have no illusions, my dear. The Dufresne family are vipers.

  I have no doubt that the ghosts of Sugar Hill will somehow come to find you, but I know you. You are smart enough, brave enough and intuitive enough to overcome them all.

  I’m sure you’re wondering why. Why would I not tell you? Why have I hidden the past from you? Yes, I know what you’re thinking. I am your grandmother, and although you are far more attractive and intelligent than I am, you also have a double dose of my common sense.

  I hope you have more courage than I do. I am a coward. Instead of fighting him, trying to help Anne, I ran as far away as I could. I took your father, my Andrew, and ran. He was all I had left. Hub had left me a long time ago, for he grew tired of the terror that stalked him. And your namesake, my own daughter, was dead. What else was I to do? Please don’t judge me too harshly, my dear.

  I put my finger in the book and leaned back in the seat. “Namesake? What are you talking about, Vertie?” I didn’t get an answer, nor did I expect one. Had I missed something by not reading the other journals? I suspected I had.

  For some reason, I hadn’t wanted to dive into them, not like I did with Grandmother Margaret’s videos. I didn’t know Margaret, but I knew Vertie so well. Reading her journals felt like invading her privacy, and she was nothing if not private. And the truth was, I couldn’t forgive her yet. She’d kept secrets from me. When she was alive, she swore she would never do that. What could I believe anymore? With a sigh, I opened the journal again and ran my fingers over the faded ink. I missed her so.

  “Oh, Vertie. You should know I love you no matter what.” I rubbed my forehead and refused to succumb to the headache that threatened to hinder my exploration of my newfound treasure.

  I have seen him too, Avery. The Lovely Man, as the cousins called him. He came to me when I was a girl, long before he visited Anne and long before Grandmother Margaret slid the ring on my sister’s finger. How I hated that old lady! Her selfishness ruined everything. Anne, Asner and I were inseparable when we were children, but the ring and the Lovely Man separated us forever. I couldn’t save Asner or my daughter, but I’ll be darned if I let you become his next soulmate. The next dead flower in his garden.

  You are in danger, my girl! You must say no to him. If you do not, I am already too late.

  By now you have the ring. I hope my sister Anne was kind enough to explain what all of this meant before presenting it to you, but I know she does foolish things when she feels desperate. As much as the ring cursed her, and I know for a fact she did not want it and did not seek it, I hope she extended you greater courtesy.

  “No, Vertie, she didn’t. And now I have the ring.” I shook my head at the foggy memory of waking up with the ring on my finger. “It’s come to me, and he has too, and I’m ashamed at how tempted I was to surrender to him.”

  As if the ring knew my thoughts, it warmed on my finger. It warned me that he’d not forgotten me, that he wouldn’t give up on claiming me.

  Yes, he came to me. How surprising that was to my grandmother. How all my silly cousins had swooned over the idea of a ghost lover. A demon that would do your bidding, make you wealthy, grant your wishes at only the small cost of your soul.

  You wouldn’t believe some of the foolish things they said and did to try to lure him to them. Silly, sickening girls they were, pricking their fingers with needles, thinking the blood would draw him. Their foolish mothers encouraged them in these illicit pursuits, in hopes that their daughter would be the one the ring and the Lovely Man chose. But I never wanted him. I never did such things.

  After all that, he picked me.

  Me, the one who would never accept him. Who never wanted him. I was repulsed by the idea of the dead returning to molest the living. I would never want his dead hands to touch my body. I didn’t want his “blessings” or anything else. I wanted Hubbard Gordon Smith. Wanted him and loved him with every fiber of
my being. He was all I ever wanted.

  Despite my revulsion, night after night the Lovely Man walked into my dreams and tried to trick me into speaking his name. Did you know he becomes more powerful when you speak his name? Never say it! He promised me everything with those lips of his, but I knew he could do none of it.

  I couldn’t believe what I was reading! Vertie knew Ambrose and had fought him off! But how? How, Vertie? I sipped the water and flipped a page in the journal.

  I did my best to keep you safe, Avery, but distance doesn’t matter to this creature. If he wants you, he can come whether you summon him or not. I knew that, but I had to try! And I think you were safe, until now. If you’re reading this, dear girl, you are not safe! The Lovely Man is what the old-timers call an incubus. A sexual demon. Yes, I know he was once a man. But I know who he is. Although his story may be sympathetic to some, make no mistake, my dear—he is a demon. A soul stealer. He’ll ravish your flesh until you don’t satisfy him anymore, and then he’ll steal your life. You can never take her place, the one he is truly bound to, but her blood is in your veins and for a while, he’ll enjoy her through you. I tried so hard to keep him at bay. First, I stayed away from you as much as I could, except for our all-too-brief summer visits. I could never be sure he wouldn’t come see me again and then see you. But when your parents died, that was no longer an option. So I moved us away as far as I could go and had our new home blessed. I also discovered that mirrors that face one another repel him. And also, he is weakened by love, true love between a man and a woman. He’ll tempt you to speak his name. He’ll make you curious, but resist him, Avery! Resist him until your last breath!

  If you decide to take him on, to get rid of him for good, you’ll have to break the curse of the ring. Challenge him where he’s weakest, at Sugar Hill. There’s one room in particular, the Mirror…

  Just then, I heard screaming coming from down the hall, from my temporary bedroom. The house shook like a train was speeding by a few feet from the outside wall. I heard a loud banging and another yell of pain. “Reed?” I slapped the journal shut and jumped out of the leather chair. I bolted into the bedroom to find Reed lying on the floor still wrapped in the sheet; all the contents of the dresser lay on the floor and on top of him. “What the hell happened in here? Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not,” he groaned. I tried to help him up, but he wasn’t having any of it. He dug himself out from the clutter, waved me away and hurriedly slid on his blue jeans. “Just hold on a second while I get my bearings.”

  I stood there feeling helpless for a few seconds, then I spotted blood trickling down his left temple and panicked. “You’re bleeding, Reed. Did one of the drawers hit you?” I grabbed one of my clean t-shirts off the floor and pressed the cloth to the side of his head. He pressed the fabric to his head and stepped away from me. I was getting the hint that he didn’t want me near him, and that hurt.

  “I’m fine.” He was walking into the bathroom when Jessica ran into the room.

  “You guys all right? I thought I heard someone screaming. Was that an earthquake?” Jessica looked perpetually sleepy with her big sad eyes, but she was wide awake now.

  “I’m not sure what happened. I was in the library.”

  She stared wide-eyed at the mess and helped me slide the drawers back in and pick up the clothing. There wasn’t much to put back, but there were some sheets and other linens tossed about. Although I hadn’t packed much, it looked like someone had dumped an entire linen closet on the floor. “Just toss them in there. I’ll tidy it all up tomorrow.”

  Reed came back out, a bandage on his head and his shirt on. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Tell me what happened, Reed.”

  “You know what happened, and you know who did this. I guess you made your choice, Avery.” Without another word, he grabbed his keys and left Jessica and me staring after him. I sat down on the bed, unsure what to do next. I couldn’t believe this. He knew what being with me meant. He knew and had been ready to take a chance. But now, at the first sign of trouble, he was gone. He assumed I chose Ambr…the Lovely Man over him. Well, hadn’t I?

  Jessica sat beside me and held my hand. We didn’t talk for a while, but I felt comforted. “Would you like a glass of water?” she asked.

  “I have some in the library. I was in there when all this happened. I heard Reed yelling and came in here. The room was a mess, like you saw, and he was lying on the floor with his head bleeding.”

  “I’ll go get that water.”

  “Thanks.”

  A minute later she was back with a glass of water…and Vertie’s journal. It was open and looked like it had been set on fire because the edges were charred.

  And all the pages were missing.

  Chapter Fifteen – Jessica

  It was almost midnight now, but I was wide awake and waiting for the other shoe to drop. We hadn’t seen the end of the activity yet. I knew that from my many experiences with My Haunted Plantation. Sure, filming those “haunted” locales was often boring, but on rare occasions, they were lively and full of activity.

  Just like Sugar Hill. And now Thorn Hill.

  The destroyed book lay between us on the dining room table, a silent witness to the chaos that had occurred a mere thirty minutes ago. There was no more shouting, no creaking floors or loud bangs, but the book said it all.

  Avery’s blank expression melted my heart. She looked confused, lost, hurt. We didn’t speak for a while; she held her glass of water in her hand but didn’t drink it, and I was doing my best not to focus on the shadows that flitted about just outside the open door. If I focused too much on them, I might enter a trance. And the last thing Avery needed right now was me babbling to myself.

  Yes, my friend needed me. Imagine that. Avery Dufresne was my friend. I had so few of them, but I genuinely liked Avery. And that had nothing to do with her celebrity status or her wealth. Did I feel so comfortable with her because I’d watched her on television from time to time? I didn’t think so. I never imagined that I would even meet America’s Newscaster, much less visit her in her home.

  And what about this place? It was as if it were built to hide a deep, dark, ominous secret—and it had been successful. Despite the architecture and fine furnishings, it was definitely home to something sinister. It was as if darkness belonged here and had grown stronger over the years.

  Okay, Jessica. Get it together. You’re dancing on the edge right now. Stay in the moment!

  I felt like a ticking time bomb, and I couldn’t just sit here and stare off into space. “Talk to me, Avery. Tell me what happened. I can help you if you let me.”

  “I don’t even know where to begin. It’s not something I can explain.” Or want to explain. I heard that last part without her saying a word. Droplets of condensation beaded up on the sides of the glass, and she rubbed at them absently.

  “I will help you if you let me, Avery. Tell me what has happened. I know things have changed. And I don’t mean to hurt you, but it’s clear that you’ve changed too.”

  Her blue eyes flashed in surprise—or was that anger? Whichever it was, she didn’t deny it.

  “I saw the ghost in the woods this evening. And I don’t know what you’re thinking, Avery, but Ambrose is not a nice spirit. He’s not a guide or a friend. He’s a trickster, and he doesn’t mean you any good.”

  Before I knew it, Avery was on her feet.

  “You don’t know that! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” I didn’t have a chance to respond before her glass went sailing across the room…on its own. If she touched it, I didn’t see it. I rose slowly, my hands flat on the table. Water and glass were everywhere. I had to remain calm. In a split second, my suspicions were confirmed: my friend had fallen under the spell of this malicious spirit.

  Woman, go now… I heard him growl in my head. I batted him away and reached for a towel before continuing.

  “Avery, I want you to think like a reporter. Use that analytic
al mind of yours and think about this. What do you think happened to Reed? Ambrose attacked him—you know it’s true! And why would he do that, Avery? Why?”

  When she wouldn’t answer, I answered for her. “Because of you. Because he thinks you belong to him. He will never allow anyone to be close to you. Look what he did to Jamie. He drove the guy crazy, pushed him over the edge. And now Reed. He’s after him, but there’s got to be a way to stop this.”

  Still, Avery did not reply. She stared in my direction, but her eyes had that far-away, unbelieving look to them. Yes, she was clearly under his spell.

  “I need to show you something. Will you trust me?”

  “Where are we going?” Avery made no effort to help me clean up. I stepped over a menacing-looking chunk of glass as I walked toward her.

  “You have to see it for yourself. Didn’t I see some pairs of flip-flops by the door?”

  “I think so.”

  I didn’t dare go upstairs to get my shoes. I wasn’t sure she’d go with me, and Ambrose Dufresne was eager to make himself known in even deadlier ways.

  “It’s on your property. About a five-minute walk. Please trust me, Avery. You have to see it. You trusted me about Regina. You trusted me before, so please trust me again.”

  There was no answer, so I pressed her. “Please.”

  “All right.”

  We slipped the sandals on; mine were ridiculously large, but I figured they might protect me from a few briars. We’d have to watch our step near the graveyard. The door clicked shut behind us as we walked onto the front porch. Although there were no streetlights, only a dim yellow front porch light, it was not pitch black out. The moon was full, and the trees were dark and inky looking, like something you’d see in a spooky painting. The many sandy spots in the lawn shown like bone dust in the light. Just at the perimeter of the woods, I could sense a growing fog of epic proportions. A supernatural fog. Yes, we had to hurry. No way would that entity appreciate this. He wanted to keep Avery blinded to her expected end. I couldn’t let that happen.