Obsession (The Talisman series)

by Sofia Grey

  “—appearing,” I finished for him. “Yeah, you already said that. Now why don’t you tell me who you are and what you want.” I slapped the Maglite some more, knowing it came off as threatening.

  He swallowed again. “I have called upon you to help me.” That was a definite quiver in his voice, but he kept his position, staring at me with wide anxious eyes.

  I snorted, amused by the bizarreness of the situation. “Help you? Who the fuck are you?” I moved to the edge of the white lines, leaning down over him. He was young alright, possibly even in his teens. “And what are you doing in here?”

  “You cannot break the salt barrier,” he intoned, “I would ask you to answer my questions and then…”

  A salt barrier? Now I knew he was off his head. A wicked sense of devilment caught me and I slid my right foot forwards as he spoke, nudging at his line of salt. He hesitated, and then spoke more quickly. “I will release you when you answer my questions.”

  I moved my foot again, scuffing at his line, breaking it and putting one foot inside his pentagram.

  “Holy fuck.” He scrambled in a panic, scuttling backwards away from my foot. I would have laughed at his consternation, except the trailing edge of his shirt wafted through one of the tea lights. A thread of flame danced along the edge of the fabric.

  “Fuuuck.” He was torn between getting out of my reach and putting out his burning clothes, so I solved the problem for him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, I rolled him to the floor to extinguish the flame before it could take hold. He sprawled, staring at me in total incredulity. “Fuck me,” he breathed, his vocabulary suddenly reduced. “You’re fucking real this time.”

  11.5 Suki

  It was dark when I opened my eyes. I lifted heavy, crusty lashes and tried to figure out where I was and why I couldn’t move. With painful slowness, my brain chugged into gear. It felt soft beneath me; perhaps I was in bed. I forced myself to open my eyes wide, to focus. I started to make out dim shapes in the darkness, the vague outline of a window, a gap in the middle where the curtains didn’t meet properly. I tried to flex my arms, I thought they’d gone to sleep, but I did have some sensation in them. They just wouldn’t move.

  Oh, God. Oh, my dear God. I couldn’t move my arms because they’d been fastened down. My heart began to race as I processed this idea. I jerked my wrists, tried to jiggle them—there was a tiny amount of movement, but hardly any. I craned my neck, tried to lift my head and felt another wave of nausea sweeping up from my stomach. I couldn’t be sick here, lying down on my back—I’d choke. I gulped in air, tried to breathe. I didn’t seem to be wearing anything. This must be home. I must be in bed.

  Tied down? My mind screamed at me. “Gabe.” I coughed as I tried to call his name, the vomit had left a burning sensation in the back of my throat. “Gabe, Gabe.” I coughed again, fighting the urge to retch. Unbidden, tears sprang to my eyes. I tried not to give in to them.

  “Gabe, where are you?” I couldn’t stop the plaintive note in my voice. “Ga-abe,” I wailed as loud as I could. The pressure was building in my chest, the panicky tendrils wrapping around me. “Please, Gabe.”

  “Please, what?”

  His voice boomed out of the darkness, just behind my head. I screamed, twisting and writhing to try and see him, my heart now dancing a tango inside my chest. “Gabe, you scared me. What have you done?”

  “What have I done?” He sounded surprised. “I’m not the one who got blind drunk and passed out at the theatre, then puked by the side of the road.”

  I gulped. He sounded hard and uncompromising, somebody I should fear. “Have you tied me down?” My voice was still slurred, I had a hard time speaking clearly.

  “I thought I’d do you a favour.”

  “Please Gabe, come where I can see you. Please put the light on, darling. I don’t like being in the dark.”

  “I know.” The bastard chuckled. I shivered, nausea twisting again in my guts. “I thought I’d give you a taste of what it might be like.”

  I desperately wanted to pant, to drag the air in quicker. I tried to focus, to use the visualization technique that Babs had taught me. I kept my breaths shallow, forced them to come slowly. When I was confident I could speak, I whispered into the darkness. “A taste of what?”

  Fingers trailed across my forehead. I jerked and grunted in shock.

  “If you were locked away like your mother.” His voice silky smooth. “If you had to be tied down to the bed.” He moved, I felt him brush against my side. “If you were kept under sedation.” He moved again, standing somewhere near my feet. A fingernail scratched against the sensitive underside of my foot. I twitched in response and whimpered. He laughed softly. “You don’t want this do you?”

  “Nuh –” My voice abandoned me.

  “Say that again. I didn’t hear you.”

  Tears flooded my eyes. He was only playing with me. He wouldn’t hurt me. He would not hurt me. “I duh—don’t want this.”

  “So are you going to be a good girl, Suki?” Moving around the bed again, he nudged my knee on the way past. “Well?”

  “Yes—Yes, Gabe.” I didn’t care what he wanted, I’d say yes to pretty much anything at that moment.

  “You’ll take your pills?”

  I swallowed back the nausea. I prayed he let me go before I choked on my own vomit. “Yes.”

  “You’ll come with me to Spa? You won’t see the Craigowans again?”

  “Yes—and no.”

  Another chuckle. Fingers tugged my hair softly, I jerked my head away from him. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes, Gabe,” I couldn’t hold back the sob this time.

  “Shout if you need me.” I heard a footstep, the click of the door, saw the briefest sliver of light from the landing and then darkness. The footsteps were moving away, going downstairs. Leaving me alone. In the dark.

  11.6 Josh

  “What d’you mean, this time?”

  Dante stared at my Maglite. I figured he was already scared enough, so I stepped back and watched as he scooted away to lean against the wall, long legs sprawling in front of him.

  “You didn’t have a corporeal form the other times.” He gazed at me, a dazed expression on his thin face. I shrugged and gestured for him to continue. “You came from the spirit world.”

  “The spirit world?”

  “I see spirits.”

  “Huh?” To say I was baffled would be an understatement.

  “I see dead people.” He pulled a face at me.

  “You’ll be seeing fucking stars, if you carry on like this.”

  “Come on, man. You’ve seen The Sixth Sense? I see dead people. That’s what I do.”

  “You don’t look like Bruce Willis,” I quipped, trying to make some sense of his rambling.

  “Bruce Willis played the spirit.” He shuddered. “That’s you. You’re usually a spirit.”

  It had become obvious this wouldn’t be a short conversation. With a sigh, I sank to the floor a few feet away from him. “I hate to break it to you,” I drawled, “but I’m not dead. Not when I last checked.”

  “But you’re here. I summoned you, Raphael.” He leaned forward, excited again.

  I scowled back. “Let’s get a few things straight. One—you didn’t summon me, I was passing by anyway. And two—how the fuck did you guess that name?” I gestured to his tea lights, the salt pentagram. “A séance, right?” He nodded. “And you’ve spoken to someone called Raphael before?”

  “I’ve spoken to you before.” He was eager to explain now. “You were older. And, uh, dead. But you only drifted in and out, so I thought I’d try here, in the heart. And here you are.”

  The heart of what? He clearly believed this story. Maybe he was high after all. He looked harmless enough, scrawny and underfed. As I looked round the kitchen I spotted a sleeping bag unrolled next to a small backpack. Something clicked into place.

  “You’re the one sleeping rough in here?” He nodded. Beneath his b
ravado, I could sense his nervousness. He reminded me a lot of myself when I was younger. “Okay, Dante, let’s talk. What exactly were you hoping this spirit would do? And why here? What’s so special about this place?”

  He licked his lips, hands twisting nervously in his lap. “Do you mind if I have a smoke?”

  I shrugged. “Dope?”

  “No,” he sounded disappointed. “I’ve only got roll-ups.” He lit a cigarette with one of the tea lights, inhaling deeply before blowing a sequence of perfect rings. I waited, keeping my face neutral.

  “I’m here because this is where he—you—Raphael– died.” He sighed, shifting position. “Well, not here exactly, it was the bedroom. The one that’s permanently locked.”

  I couldn’t stop my laughter this time. “Oh come on,” I scoffed. “The one that’s permanently locked,” I mimicked. “What have you been smoking? And Dante. Not a bad moniker, but I’ll bet it’s not your real name.”

  I’d hit a nerve. His face shuttered and he scowled again, his brows dipping low in a dark V. “I don’t tell anyone my real name, okay?” That shut me up. I was still unnerved by the coincidence of him calling me by a name I’d never revealed to anyone. “Come on, then,” he challenged, scrambling to his feet, squashing the cigarette into the tiled floor with one boot. “I’ll show you the freaking room. See if you believe me then.”

  He produced a small torch, switched it on and pointed it towards the doorway. Tall and slim, a typical overgrown youth, he stood as high as my shoulder. “Well? What are you waiting for?” He led me to the stairs, looking back to make sure I was following.

  I knew without him saying which room he meant. That bedroom. With the door that opened easily to my hand.

  He gaped as I pushed the door open and felt a surge of recognition again. This time, it was even more like my dream. It was dark outside, the moon playing across the sea in a silvery trail, the pungent woody smell drifting up the stairs. Not sandalwood, not incense after all. “What’s that smell?” I snapped the question, a thousand shivers running down my spine.

  “Smudging,” he muttered, staring round the empty room. He met my eyes and must have seen my confusion. “Burning sage. It’s a cleansing ritual, clears away the bad spirits.” He shrugged.

  My attention was drawn to the window. There was no Suki this time. My heart lurched as I thought of her, my knees buckling. I took a deep breath and staggered to the window, to lean against the glass. An image of her came to me—crying softly, her hands were restrained somehow, she couldn’t wipe her eyes. I could hear a voice inside my head. Gabriel.

  “You don’t want this, do you?”

  “Nuh,” she stammered her reply.

  As before, I could feel her, the sensation of her heart banging, the nausea and fear as she lay frightened and helpless. I could have been paralysed, I couldn’t move, could hardly breathe. Time slowed down. I watched a fat tear oozing from her eye, rolling down her cheek. I couldn’t help her—I didn’t even know where the fuck she was. I hadn’t been able to feel her or hear her thoughts recently. Was this even happening, or was it a hallucination?

  I blinked. Dante crouched before me, clicking his fingers in front of my face. “Dude, you okay in there? This is it. This is where it all happened.”

  I shook my head, my breath still coming in painful bursts. “You’re wrong. It hasn’t happened yet.”

  CHAPTER 12

  12.1 Josh

  “I have to go.” I stood up, noting the flash of anxiety on Dante’s face. “There’s something I have to do.” Already, my mind was leaping ahead. I didn’t have Suki’s mobile number and I shied away from phoning Gabriel, but I would ask Anita to text her. Dante followed me as I trotted back down the stairs, fumbling for my car keys. I stopped abruptly at the bottom. He managed to halt before he bounced off me.

  “Will you be here later?” I turned to face him. “We need to talk, but this is an emergency.” He might be able to help with my intense curiosity about this house. He certainly seemed to know something of its history.

  He looked evasive, scuffing his boots against the stairs, gazing over my shoulder. “I don’t know, man. You kinda freaked me tonight. I think my work here is done.”

  “What?” I held my temper, forced a calm I didn’t feel. “I’ll be back in a few hours, can you wait that long?” Silence. I took a deep breath, contemplated dragging him with me and leaving him in the car at Jon’s house.

  “Give me a retainer.”

  I stared, narrowing my eyes. “For what?”

  This time we made eye contact, he raised his chin in a defiant gesture. “For my services.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. I dug into my pocket for my wallet, flicked through the small amount of cash. “Fifty quid. It’s all I’ve got.” Eager fingers snatched at the bills, but I held them out of reach. “I want your word you’ll wait here. Do you have a pen, so I can give you my number?” He produced a biro with a well-chewed tip. I jotted my mobile number on the back of his hand, then passed across the money, watching as he shoved it into his pocket, eyes gleaming in the reflected torchlight. “And what do I get in return?”

  “A full session. Here’s my card.” He passed me a dog-eared business card. I glanced at it before tucking it inside my wallet. I itched to contact Suki. I couldn’t hang around any longer.

  Ten minutes later, I burst into Jon’s kitchen, finding him heating a pan of milk. He raised his eyebrows at my sudden entrance. “I’m making cocoa, would you like some?”

  “Is Anita still up? I need to use her phone.” I took a quick breath, injected a note of calm into my voice. “I’d like to use Anita’s phone to contact Suki. It’s, ah, urgent.”

  “Yeah, I guess it must be.” He removed the pan from the stove, pouring the contents into a waiting jug. “Come on through.” He grinned over his shoulder as he left the kitchen. “And would you fetch the mugs please?”

  Anita sat curled on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, chatting in an animated fashion to a couple of strangers. I dumped the mugs on a coffee table next to the jug, nodded politely to them and crouched by her side. She smiled at first, worry quickly crossing her face and swirling around her. “Joe? Is something wrong?”

  I kept my voice low. “I have a bad feeling about Suki and I need to make sure she’s okay. I can’t ring her, and I’m pretty certain Gabriel won’t speak to me, so will you please text her?”

  She nodded, already reaching for her phone and patting the seat next to her. “Sit down. What do you want me to say to Suki?”

  I sat, accepting the mug of cocoa offered by Jon. “Start with asking if she’s okay? If they’re back in Manchester?”

  Anita nodded, tapped away. Her phone beeped. “It’s sent,” she murmured. “Oh and Joe, I’d like you to meet our friends Alex and Sylvie.” She smiled at them, a young and attractive woman, with dark hair tumbling around a lively face, she leaned against a familiar looking man. I stared a moment. His long dark hair and beard reminded me strongly of someone… I’d ponder that later.

  “Alex, Sylvie, this is Joe. I mean Josh.” I detected a note of warning in her voice. I figured they’d probably been talking about me. “Sylvie’s been having some terrible headaches for the past few days, I wondered if you could do anything to help her. You know, like you do with Suki.”

  Huh? “I, um, don’t know.” I hate being put on the spot, and this felt as though I had a thousand-watt light glaring down at me. Sylvie stared at me. I noted the shadows under her eyes, the way her jawline seemed clenched. “I could try,” I added lamely. I could sense her uncertainty, curiosity and a general reluctance towards me.

  She leaned forwards, leaving her partner, although she kept hold of his hand. “What do I need to do?”

  I had no idea. For all I knew, this trick might only work on Suki. I sighed inwardly as I moved to stand behind her. “Just, um, relax.” I stretched out my hands to rest them gently on her shoulders, almost recoiling as a sharp jolt zapped through me. She gasped and
flinched, her partner growled and turned towards me. “Static,” I murmured, amazed at what was happening. As with Suki, once I’d made contact with her I could feel it, a hot, angry pain at the base of her neck, rippling out across her shoulders. I could almost see it. Closing my eyes I took a quick breath. The burning sensation crept up my arms, jabbed tiny pinpricks of pain across my shoulders and settled at the back of my head. Fuck, that hurt. Seconds later, with the feeling coming back into my arms, I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as the pain tightened and dissolved. I blew out the last of my breath and opened my eyes, a dizzy sensation of pins and needles persisting for another moment.

  “It’s gone,” she sounded awestruck. “How do you do that?”

  I rubbed my forehead. It felt like being in a dream. “I’m not sure. But listen, have you, um, hurt your shoulders recently? That’s where it stemmed from. You might have a trapped nerve.” I shrugged, trying to produce a smile. “Maybe you should see an chiropractor or something.”

  “I’ll do that. You’re right, I was lifting something out of the car and I felt it pull across my shoulders.” She turned to smile at me, a brilliant beaming grin lighting up her face. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” Before I could move, she stretched towards me and dropped a kiss on my cheek. I smiled back, her delight was infectious. The beeping of Anita’s phone grabbed my attention.

  “Okay,” she said, “I’ll read it out. Can’t talk now, Gabe’s asleep. We’re off to Spa tomorrow.”

  “That’s it?” I was disappointed, and still worried. I gazed at Anita, idly scratching my stubbled chin. I hadn’t shaved in a few days. “Why don’t you suggest meeting up with her? Or just tell her you’re worried.” I groped for inspiration. “Ask if her backache has gone.”

  Anita stared at me, visibly perplexed. “Backache?” I nodded. She tapped some more. We waited only a few seconds before the reply came back.