Heroine Complex (Book 4): Haunted Heroine

by Kuhn, Sarah

  “And she was supposed to help us in our quest,” Leonora said, throwing Shelby the stink-eye. “Instead she ended up making a weak human friend and enjoying campus life too much. So I activated the courtyard ghost, because I knew Shelby would walk directly into its path—and I gave the ghost the exact words to say to her.”

  “But then the ghost disappeared,” I said, working it out. “Because Shelby . . .” I studied Shelby, who was tugging at the hem of her dress again. “Shelby listened to the ghost. Even if you gave the ghost the words, the actual sentiment . . . that was all the wagon woman’s. All her bitterness and regret. Shelby helped the ghost take care of its regrets, its unfinished business. And that’s what helped it pass over. Which you weren’t counting on, were you?”

  “The ghostly energy you have here on Earth is unpredictable,” Leonora sniffed. “I thought once we activated each ghost, they’d keep haunting until we decided they were no longer needed. But that’s not what happened. They were not . . . entirely under our control.”

  “Did you kidnap Pippa to threaten Shelby?” Aveda asked.

  “We thought she needed to be reminded of whose side she was on, who gave her life,” Leonora said. Shelby looked at the floor.

  “So you also created these reverse portals,” I said. “Like the one that took Pippa.”

  “Of course I did,” Leonora crowed, clapping her hands together like I’d just gotten an answer correct in class. “Another one of my experiments I was able to try out once I projected myself into your realm. Aren’t they something? Handy for so many things. And I’m really perfecting them—true, we couldn’t hold wee Pippa indefinitely and we didn’t manage to completely snap up Julie Vũ—”

  “How does Julie fit into all of this?” I said, exchanging another look with Aveda. I was pretty sure we already knew this part, but we had to keep Leonora blabbing. “I know she was investigating Richard for his terrible teaching, but how did she get so entangled?”

  “Like I said to you before, warriors, Julie was like a dog with a bone,” Leonora sniffed. “As part of her investigation of Richard, she hacked into his laptop, his files—everything. And she found his paranormal research—”

  “I had managed to get my hands on quite a few classified demonology documents,” Richard said, puffing up. “With Leonora’s help. Julie saw all of those—”

  “And she realized you were up to a lot of really bad shit,” I growled. My mind was racing; this must be why Julie had reacted to me the way she did right before she’d passed out in my arms. She’d become sort of an expert on all things Richard. “So she joined the ghost-hunting society, tried to see if she could figure it all out before you did and take you down—and you sent the theater ghost after her. Tried to reverse portal her. You hurt her.”

  “It was really the ghost who did that,” he said with a maddening shrug. “True, I may have . . . facilitated some of it by putting a document about the theater ghost appearing at a certain time right where she would find it.”

  “And you became the faculty advisor for the ghost-hunting society because you knew they were onto you,” I said, turning to Leonora. “Even with Julie Vũ out of the way, there are students like Tess who aren’t content to just passively watch the spirits or whatever. You thought you could control them if you were in charge.”

  “Provost Glennon was so helpful with that,” Leonora gloated. “Richard leaned on her to make that happen, it was just so lovely. That poor woman doesn’t know anything of our supernatural adventures, of course—she thought he was accomplishing these ‘hauntings’ with some kind of special effects. All she really knows is she has to keep Richard happy and Julie Vũ quiet.”

  “But . . .” I rubbed my stomach, terrified to ask the next question. “What does any of this have to do with my baby?”

  Leonora beamed at me. “I’m so glad you asked—this is the best part! When I first saw your pictures on Richard’s wall, my only plan was to lure you here so you and Richard could get back together—and I’d be able to save Nathaniel from your grimy human clutches and return him to his mother. But when we saw the news that you were pregnant, I realized I could get my Princess something even better.” She took a step toward me and I felt Aveda tense up. “Because, young warrior, I am fairly certain your baby is the key. The key to finally making the bridge between our worlds complete.”

  Panic seized my chest and I felt like I was about to black out. I forced myself to keep breathing.

  “How?” Aveda spat out. “How does that work? How do you even know—”

  “Oh, we must save some of our secrets for another time,” Leonora said, shaking a scolding finger at us. “But trust me, I know this will work. It will be my most successful experiment yet.”

  “That’s why so many of the hauntings were things you would be able to relate to, Evelyn,” Richard piped up. “I know what draws you. We were even able to make the ghostly version of me happen, because I knew you just would not be able to resist that.”

  “Richard’s told me so much about you, warrior,” Leonora said, her voice becoming gentle. “How much you struggled, how much you were hurting during your time here. How you failed, even though you were trying so hard.” She took another step toward me and knelt down, so we were at eye level. “If you have this baby, you’ll only fail again. You know that. I can see it on your face, plain as day.” She smiled. “Let me take it. It will be with family—with Princess Shasta. Well taken care of. And you won’t have to become the terrible mother you’re so scared of becoming. You won’t have to hurt your own child. I’ll even leave Nathaniel with you. Once we have your child, we’ll have no need of him—so you’ll be saving him as well.”

  “I . . .” I paused, tears filling my eyes. Everything she was saying . . . it was exactly what I’d been thinking, worrying about, agonizing over. I wasn’t strong enough for this. I knew that. I’d fought so hard to stay in grad school, and ultimately I’d caused nothing but disaster in my wake. Did I really want to fight for this and end up ruining my baby—maybe ruining everything—for life?

  “Think of how much better things would have been if you could have done that for your sister,” Leonora continued. “How much better off she would have been. How she would have found her way so much sooner.” She leaned in close, her grin becoming extra toothy. “Do you really want to ruin another child like that? Just because you were so selfish, you couldn’t admit to yourself that you’re weak?”

  “Shut up!” Aveda snarled. She cast a worried look my way. “Evie, don’t listen to her!”

  “I . . .” Tears were streaming down my face now. All I could think of was how helpless I’d felt that night with Bea and the peanut butter. How worthless. How weak.

  Leonora was right.

  “Well, I’m certainly not listening to this!” Aveda cried, raising her hands. I saw her looking around, probably trying to find something very heavy she could use her telekinesis to drop on Leonora’s head.

  “Oh, no,” Leonora said, frowning at Aveda. Her brows drew together, her face creasing with concentration.

  And then Aveda crumpled to the floor, screaming in pain.

  “My projection power has some very interesting elements,” Leonora gloated. “Think of this as a demonstration, Ms. Tanaka—this is me, projecting my powerful mental grasp into your womb. This is how I’ll pull your baby out of you. And if you’re not willing to listen to the very reasonable arguments I’m putting forth, well . . .” She flicked a wrist at Aveda and Aveda screamed louder. “Perhaps you’ll be willing to save your friend.”

  “No.” Aveda’s fingers scrabbled across the space between us and clutched mine. “Don’t give her the baby, Evie. Think of Nate, too—he wouldn’t want this! And neither do you, not deep down. Do. Not—”

  CRASH

  Aveda was cut off by a loud, violent noise, and then suddenly we were plunged into complete darkness. Leonora’s g
lowing aura vanished. I looked up at the unfinished roof, but now it looked like it was covered—no moonlight, no stars, just total black.

  “Oh, dear!” Richard piped up. I blinked, trying to get the shapes around me to come into focus. “That must be the library ghost! We haven’t been able to activate it yet—not for lack of trying, but it’s a newer spirit, not much information out there on it really—”

  “Shut up, Richard,” Shelby said, her voice weary.

  Aveda squeezed her fingers around mine, then pulled my hand very slightly, a silent cue: Let’s get out of here.

  Staying crouched low to the ground, we both started to crawl our way toward the plastic sheeting covering the exit—or what we thought was the exit. I felt along the floor, trying to navigate us around the piles of rubble. I heard Leonora and Richard murmuring amongst themselves, trying to figure out what to do.

  That’s it . . . stay quiet . . . stay low . . . don’t let go of Aveda’s hand . . .

  My other hand—the one not holding on to Aveda—bumped something. I moved slightly to the left, trying to navigate around it.

  Then it grabbed my hand in a death grip.

  “What!” I shrieked, unable to stop myself. It felt like another human hand, now clutching mine.

  I stood up abruptly. The hand didn’t let go.

  “Don’t go,” a voice whispered.

  I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly very dry.

  Because the voice was my voice.

  I channeled everything into my fire, igniting a flame in my palm. Raised it up with shaking hands.

  And found myself face to face with . . . me. Evie Tanaka.

  “What. The. Fuck!” Aveda exclaimed, leaping to her feet.

  It wasn’t the me of now. It was definitely the me of that day when the library had burned down—dark circles under her eyes, curly hair a mess, toting a gigantic bag of books. Looking utterly lost.

  “Evie?” I whispered, feeling ridiculous.

  She nodded. She didn’t look surprised to see me. And I could see now that she had a faint blue glow around her.

  “Holy shit. You’re the library ghost,” Aveda whispered, tugging on my sleeve.

  “Very astute, Ms. Jupiter,” Leonora’s voice piped up from behind us.

  We whirled around to see Leonora, Richard, and Shelby. The light from the moon was starting to come back now, giving the space that little bit of illumination. I felt myself position my body slightly in front of the Evie ghost—it was my instinct to protect her.

  “Look at her,” Leonora said, gesturing to the Evie ghost. “She’s so sad. So alone. She’s failing in every possible way. She’s every regret you have about this moment, this time, in your life.” She leaned in close, whispering in my ear. “Give me your baby. And she can pass over, be at peace. Your unfinished business here will be done. You can finally leave her behind forever.”

  “No.”

  The voice was loud and forceful—and not mine. It was Aveda’s. She shook her head at Leonora, her eyes sparking with rage.

  “Evie, don’t listen to her!” Aveda said. “She’s full of shit!”

  I met Ghost Evie’s eyes. I suddenly couldn’t focus on anything but her.

  “Help . . . me . . .” she whispered.

  “Yes,” Leonora hissed. “Help her—the way you couldn’t help her back then. Take away her pain. By admitting you’re a failure.”

  Leonora waved a hand. There was an ear-splitting WHOOM, and a swirling pit of blackness appeared on the floor—glittering and malevolent, like a giant gaping mouth.

  “My reverse portal,” Leonora purred. “Isn’t it pretty? All you have to do, warrior, is walk through. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Come with us, Evelyn,” Richard said, reaching out a hand. “Once Leonora has your child, the bridge between worlds will be done and we can come and go as we please.”

  “Fuck that!” Aveda screamed, charging toward Richard.

  But then Leonora raised a hand and Aveda was on the floor again, screaming in pain.

  “Evie!” she yelled, writhing on the floor. “Listen to me: you’re not failing! You weren’t failing then, either! And you’re sure as hell not weak. You . . . you . . .” She screamed again.

  I turned back to Ghost Evie. I felt like I was in a trance, everything else fading into the background as I took her in.

  She was in so much pain.

  I did want to take it away, to let her rest. To let her go.

  I met her haunted eyes. So much like mine, yet so different. I saw her. Right down to her soul.

  And in that moment, I knew exactly what I had to do.

  “You’re right,” I said, turning to Leonora. “I do want to help her.”

  Triumph overtook Leonora’s face. Richard reached out a hand to me again.

  “Then come along, my love,” he said, his expression more smug than ever.

  I faced him. Met his eyes. Looked him up and down. He wanted me to see him as all wise and powerful—someone who would always, no matter what, know better than me.

  And that, I finally realized, was not what I saw at all.

  “Oh, fuck no.”

  Leonora blinked. “Excuse me?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I said, fuck no. You were right, Richard. I decided to drop out of grad school because of Bea. Because I loved her more than I loved this dream I thought I had. But making that decision doesn’t mean I failed and it doesn’t mean I’m weak—it took strength to make that decision. And it was a decision. It was mine.”

  “That’s a very nice story to tell yourself, Evelyn—” he began.

  “It’s not a story,” I snapped. “It’s the truth. And you know what? You don’t get to tell me anything. I can see now that our relationship was wrong. Not just because we were wrong for each other—you were my fucking professor. What were you doing sleeping with me, pursuing me—any of it?”

  “Our relationship was consensual—” he said, drawing out the word in the most annoying way possible.

  “Sure it was,” I said, taking a step closer to him. “But let me say it again: you were my professor. And you should have fucking known better.”

  As he sputtered at me, I turned back to Ghost Evie. She was staring at me—and she still looked sad. But I saw something else there now, too. The tiniest of sparks lighting her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to her. “Aveda was right. It’s easier for me to get upset about someone else being mistreated, to protect others—but I’ve never been very good at protecting myself. Or asking for help when I need it.”

  I reached out a hand to her. She took it tentatively, gazing at me in wonder.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “For being so hard on you. For not standing up for you. And for calling you a failure.” I squeezed her hand. “I forgive us,” I whispered. “Even though there’s nothing to forgive. We did the best we could with an impossible situation. We survived. And now . . .” I glanced over at Aveda, still writhing on the floor in pain. Her expression was determined, though. Tenacious. She was going to fight her way out of this, no matter what.

  I thought of how many times she and I had fought our way out of impossible situations. How she and our new gang of Morgan College friends had cheered me on during my plate-throwing. How our little family was always there for each other—whether it was Lucy calling to pep talk me from her honeymoon or Bea searching until she found Julie Vũ or Nate letting me collapse fully against him, protecting me with everything he had.

  My heart swelled with love.

  “Our life now . . . well, it may not be perfect,” I told her, tears streaming down my cheeks. “And it’s not at all what we imagined. But somehow . . . it’s so much better. It’s real. It’s full of adventure and wonderful new experiences and people who love us, and who we love desperately. People we can count o
n, no matter what. And . . .” My voice broke, but I kept going. “You need to know: we were never weak. Everything we did came from a place of strength. And now we know that we deserve to be loved, protected, taken care of. Just like we’ve always done for other people. I don’t want to deny you, or to leave you in the past—you’re part of who I became. Who I am. And you need to forgive yourself, too.”

  She held my gaze for a long moment, her eyes shiny and unsure—like she wanted so badly to believe what I’d said, but it sounded too wild to be true.

  “Forgive yourself,” I whispered. Both to her and to me.

  And then, she smiled at me—a brilliant smile, all traces of exhaustion and guilt evaporating at last. Like the sun bursting through the clouds.

  She squeezed my hand one more time and vanished into thin air.

  “Noooooooooo!” Leonora screamed behind me. “She can’t have passed on . . . she can’t . . .”

  I whipped around—I’d been so wrapped up in Ghost Evie, I’d forgotten Leonora was there. The glittery black hole on the floor was closing in on itself, getting smaller and smaller by the second.

  And then suddenly, a brightly colored blur was streaking in front of me, barreling toward Leonora, and shoving her directly into her vanishing portal. The portal distorted, its shape widening and narrowing in rapid succession. Then it made a prolonged sucking sound, like a clogged toilet.

  “What the fuck!” Aveda yelled over all the noise.

  We moved closer, trying to get a better look—then the portal let out a massive WHOOM, whirled closed, and winked out of sight.

  For a moment, we just stood there—me, Shelby, and Aveda. I didn’t know where Richard had gone. The moon was shining down on us again, illuminating things with silvery patches of light. And we were surrounded by blissful silence.

  “Shelby!” Aveda finally exclaimed, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Did you just shove your . . . well, I’m not sure what to call her. Your creator? Your fucked-up mom? Did you shove her into the portal?”

  “I sure did!” Shelby said, puffing up. “Man, I was so over her.”