I reached over and turned off the lamp. Then I turned around.
And sucked in my breath so I wouldn’t scream.
The shadow creature was standing in the tiny kitchen, only a few feet from me. I moved back, trying to put distance between us. It was huge, a dark giant whose head grazed the ceiling of the apartment. And as I moved back, it moved forward.
“No,” I whispered. “No.”
It was supposed to be outside. There was supposed to be a window and a wall of bricks separating us. Now there was nothing. It glided forward. I wanted to look away, but I felt completely transfixed by this thing that had no face and no real body. It possessed only a humanlike shape but no features that I could discern.
My fear gave way to incredulous anger. It had crossed a boundary. I thought we had some sort of deal: it stayed outside and I remained inside and every night made sure to acknowledge its growing presence. And now it was here, in my sister’s cozy apartment while she slept in the next room. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.
“I tried.” My voice was hoarse, a heated whisper. “I apologized to Marcus. I did my best. I don’t know what else I can do.”
Had it grown bigger as I spoke? It seemed like it, but I couldn’t be sure. It took another gliding step forward. Again, the action triggered intense anger in me.
“It wasn’t my fault!” I wasn’t yelling, but my voice was definitely louder. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t.”
The shadow stopped. I blinked, and it seemed that it had actually shrunk a little. Its head no longer touched the ceiling.
“His death was not my fault,” I repeated. The shadow stopped moving. I stared hard, convinced that it had decreased in size yet again. Not a lot, as it was still tall and imposing, but now the top of the shadow was level with the fridge.
“I did not kill Marcus. I am not responsible.”
Now the shadow was lighter, not as thick. I could almost see through it as it stood still, centered in the kitchen. My words were having a strangely positive effect, and the shadow didn’t seem to mind. It was as if he wanted to diminish, wanted to disappear completely.
I continued to speak, to say the same few sentences over and over. My voice gained a calm strength each time I said the words aloud. I wasn’t simply repeating the words, though. I was trying to believe them. I could almost hear the voices of my friends and family, who had tried so hard to encourage me to let go of my guilt. There was still so much of it burrowed inside me, but maybe I could let go of this one piece. It was a huge piece, and too much for me to carry around forever. I had looked outside of myself for a way to let go, reaching out to Mills and even Zelden. But in the end, no one could give me what I had to give myself.
Forgiveness.
“I did not kill him.”
The shadow became dimmer and smaller until it was merely a dark ball hovering near the stove.
Cautiously, I approached it and reached out my arm. My hand went through it. I felt a coldness, as if I was plunging my fingers into snow.
“I am not guilty,” I murmured.
The small shadow curled up until it fit into the palm of my hand. I gazed down at it, amazed and confused.
But not afraid.
I blew on it lightly, as if I was blowing a kiss, and it was gone.
Chapter Nine
“Where are we going again?”
My sister frowned. “No talking until I’ve finished your makeup.”
I was perfectly capable of applying my own makeup, but Annalise had insisted. I guessed it was another way for her to relieve her guilt over not being around during my visit. We were going to a special dinner, she said. Then she ironed my wrinkled green dress and ordered me into a chair so she could make sure I looked “my best.”
“I’m happy going to one of our regular places,” I told her as she brushed eye shadow over my lids. “It doesn’t need to be fancy.”
“Trust me. You’ll want to look good for this.”
“And I only look good in a dress and foundation?”
She shook her head. “Stop trying to pick a fight with me. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes and it’s going to be great.”
“Okay, but you’re not all that dressed up,” I pointed out.
She handed me a tissue. “Here. Blot your lips.”
I did as I was told. Annalise inspected her work and, apparently satisfied, decided to get herself dressed. I waited in the living room. It was amazing to me that only hours earlier I had confronted the shadow in the kitchen, that I had found a way to end my night stalker. My own guilt had created it. My own words sent it away.
I had tried calling Noah several times earlier in the day to tell him all about my encounter, but my calls kept going to voice mail until finally a computerized voice told me that his mailbox was full. He had probably left his phone at school, I thought. I would see him in less than twenty-four hours, though. My story could wait until then.
When my sister emerged from her bedroom, she was nowhere near as dressed up as me. Instead, she wore a short denim skirt and a T-shirt.
“Seriously?” I got off the sofa. “If that’s what you consider formal, I’m throwing on a pair of jeans.”
“Oh, no, you’re not.” Annalise grabbed her purse. “We have to go. I don’t want you to be late.”
I hurried after her. “Don’t you mean you don’t want us to be late?” She ignored me. We got into her car, and for a split second I wondered if she was taking me back home so I could go to the Prom. But a glance at the clock told me that wouldn’t be possible: it was already nine, and even if we left now, we wouldn’t make it until nearly midnight.
Besides, I realized, we weren’t headed away from town. We were driving toward the beach. Maybe she was taking me to an elegant seafood restaurant. But soon we had passed the glowing signs of the stores and restaurants with which I was familiar.
“This place is really out of the way,” I said as we continued to drive toward the water. Annalise turned near the aquarium and parked. The building was dark except for a few outdoor lights.
“We’re here.”
I got out of the car. It wasn’t until I shut the door and heard it lock behind me that I realized Annalise hadn’t turned off the engine. She rolled down the passenger window. “Have a great evening, Charlotte.” She smiled in a way that told me this had all been a trap, that I had been set up for something positively devious.
“What’s going on?”
Instead of answering, my sister simply drove away, leaving me stranded in the empty parking lot. I watched as she drove away, half expecting to see the glow of her brake lights, followed by the white reverse lights as she came back to explain the joke. But when she turned out of the parking lot and disappeared onto a side street, I knew I was stuck.
What was I supposed to do? Walk back to her apartment at night? Not that I was afraid of the shadow any longer. My concerns had more to do with drunk tourists and the physical pain of walking over a mile in heels. If Annalise was playing a joke, it wasn’t funny. In fact, I was mad.
“Charlotte?”
I turned around, and even though it was difficult to see Noah’s face in the darkness, I knew his voice. I ran to him, excited and giddy and shocked. I hugged him hard then pulled back.
“You’re wearing a suit.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t have time to get a tux. This will have to do.”
“You’re my dinner date?”
“No.” He smiled. “I’m your Prom date. Come on.”
He took my hand firmly in his and led me away from the parking lot. We followed a narrow concrete path down to the beach. Once we hit sand, I stopped and took off my uncomfortable shoes. Noah did the same, but he also took off his socks. And then we walked, barefoot, onto the cool sand.
I wanted to stop, but Noah kept walking. He seemed to know where we were going, so I let him lead the way. After a minute, we reached our destination—and I gasped.
Thick candles had been lined up in the sa
nd. Each one glowed with a tiny flame. Beyond them, soft waves licked the beach. I could see a small box near the middle of the space illuminated by the light. Noah leaned over and pressed a button. Music filled the air.
“You did this for me?”
He kissed my cheek. “Happy Senior Prom, Charlotte.”
He pulled me close and we began to dance to the music. “If I didn’t mention it before, you look amazing,” he whispered into my ear.
I smiled and rested my cheek against his shoulder. “And if I haven’t said it yet, thank you.”
I don’t know how long we danced. Hours, probably. I do know that when I looked up at the sky, I could see a million brilliant stars.
And one lone balloon, drifting toward the heavens.
Don’t miss the rest of Mara Purnhagen’s Past Midnight series, available wherever books are sold from Harlequin TEEN:
Past Midnight
Raising the Dead*
One Hundred Candles
Beyond the Grave
Also available from Mara Purnhagen and Harlequin TEEN
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Mara Purnhagen cannot live without a tall caramel latte, her iPod or a stack of books on her nightstand. She has lived in Aurora, Illinois; Kalamazoo, Michigan; Dayton, Ohio, and Duncan, South Carolina. She currently lives outside Cleveland, Ohio, with her family, two cats and a well-meaning ghost who likes to open the kitchen windows.
Visit Mara online at her website www.marapurnhagen.com and her Facebook page www.facebook.com/mara.purnhagen
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0902-2
Haunting the Night
Copyright © 2010 by Mara Purnhagen
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