Natalie had noticed the candles and was staring intently at them. Madeline zoomed the still camera on Natalie’s eyes so the candles were dancing in her pupils.
“Now, who has a message here tonight?” Natasha asked the air. Madeline’s skin grew goose bumps as the temperature dropped. She saw Melissa’s eyes grew wide and her mouth opened in an O.
“Yes...” Natasha said as she nodded to some unseen presence. “I understand.”
“What?” Audrey asked. “Who came through?”
“I’m not sure who the person is in relationship to you or what you’re looking for,” Natasha said, “but this person is bothered by the many people that have come through the house in recent years.”
“Since it became a bed and breakfast,” Audrey said.
“Yes.” Natasha nodded. “Someone else is crying so loud I can’t hear what the others are saying.”
“Others?”
Madeline checked her recorder. The needles on it were flipping up and down in a rhythmic pattern. She hoped it was picking up something they couldn’t hear.
Madeline checked her video camera again, then picked up her digital camera. She didn’t see anything as she looked through the viewfinder, but she snapped many pictures of the ceiling in the direction Natasha was looking.
She clicked and checked and was surprised to realize an hour had gone by and Natasha was wrapping up the séance.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Melissa said as she flipped the lights back on. “Usually I hear all that moaning and groaning.”
“No, I didn’t hear anything at all.” Joe agreed.
“Well, there were many people here tonight. I’m sure Madeline got something,” Natasha said, keeping her voice evenly patient. She looked over at Madeline as if to confirm.
“I may have,” Madeline said. “It’s hard to tell until I upload to the computer and can blow everything up.”
“It did get pretty cold for a while there,” Richard said.
All the people coming through the front door, Madeline’s mother said in her head.
“And the candles were pretty funky. They kept getting bigger and smaller,” Natalie said.
“They weren’t acting like normal candles.” Melissa said.
“Here, let me get your envelopes,” Audrey said as she disappeared into the kitchen. Natasha went to the front hall and put on her coat. Madeline walked with her but wasn’t ready to leave since her gear wasn’t packed up yet.
“Are you going to be okay?” Madeline asked her. “You look so... well, I don’t want to say pale because you’re always pale, just... drawn. You eating okay?” Madeline raised her eyebrow. Natasha nodded.
Audrey came into the room and handed them each an envelope.
“I was very happy with both of your performances tonight,” she said. “I know it’s not easy, especially with so many different people around.”
“I hope they aren’t too disappointed in what did and didn’t happen,” Madeline said.
“Oh, nonsense. They all are well aware how this medium stuff goes. Sometimes you find a clue, sometimes you don’t. It’s always good to just get together and explore, no matter what the outcome might be,” Audrey said. “I’d better go tend to my guests.”
Audrey returned to the other room, and they could hear her chattering on as she led them into the kitchen.
“Really, Natasha. Is there anything going on I can help you with? I know you have a lot of burdens.” Madeline reached out to touch Natasha’s hand. It was cold as Madeline held it. She rubbed her hands against Natasha’s. “I want to help you. You know I’m always here for you.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I have to get back to Gus.” Natasha hugged Madeline and left, pulling the door closed behind her.
As Madeline turned to go back to the dining room, she thought she saw something running up the stairs. The hair on her arms stood on end. There was something disturbing—not just creepy; one step above creepy as far as she was concerned—about the house, and she was eager to get home and check her recordings for any clues of paranormal activity.
Madeline entered the room in the middle of more discussion.
“Did you hear anything?” Audrey asked Melissa again.
“I told you, Mother. There was nothing.”
“Maybe they were operating on a higher vibration tonight,” Madeline suggested. Audrey and Melissa turned to look at her.
“What do you mean?” Melissa asked.
“Sometimes spirits vibrate faster, and sometimes they are slower, depending on who they’re trying to communicate with. The receiver—that would be you—is often attuned to only one frequency. Most of us only experience the most base levels.”
“And you’re saying Natasha experiences higher levels of activity? Like a dog or cat?”
“Yes, because she’s practiced it, but she also comes by it naturally. She’s lived in Hermana for a very long time and has studied with the best of teachers.’
“I know. She’s always been around. Even when I was much younger...” Audrey furrowed her brow. “Yes, a very long time. Hmm.”
Audrey cleaned up the dishes while the other guests found their coats. As they shared good-byes, Madeline finally had her equipment safely packed away.
“Thank you,” she said as she put her envelope into her purse.
“I’m going to have you ladies back again very soon. Perhaps in March, around the anniversary of one of the deaths. That might liven things up a bit,” Audrey said.
“Death days are often active. But not always. However, give me a call when you want to set the date. I know Natasha would love to come back as well and find more for you.”
“Don’t forget to send me copies of everything you got and send me the bill for that too.”
“I won’t forget. I’m curious to see what we picked up. I’m sure there’s got to be something there,” Madeline reassured her.
When she got home, she was delighted to find a fifty-dollar tip on top of her regular two-hundred-dollar fee. There would be more money if she found anything and, of course, there was the additional fee of printing interesting pictures.
Chapter Three
Perform acts of charity.
The snow was coming down thick and furious as she made her way down the steps of The Sleepyhead Inn. A cold breeze off the ocean did nothing to help as Madeline packed her equipment into her car. A gust of wind whipped her coat flaps, sending chills up her body. She hopped into the driver’s seat.
With dismay, she realized she would have to clean the windshield, which was icy from the freezing rain that had sprinkled on and off while she was in the house. She turned on the car and grabbed the scraper. As she was chipping away at the windshield, she thought about Natasha and how she was sure the woman wasn’t herself that night. Sometimes Madeline wasn’t certain what “being herself” even meant when it came to someone like Natasha.
Natasha didn’t live far, so Madeline decided she’d stop by on the way home. The streets were slippery, and the car chugged along, never really warming up.
Madeline’s breath hung in the air as she squinted at the drifts of gray-white snow in the road. If she didn’t have to haul around so much stuff, she would have taken a cab. Maybe in the future she would anyway.
* * *
When she arrived on Natasha’s street, there was barely any room to park at all with the snowdrifts and slush piles hugging the curb. She did the best she could and hoped she wouldn’t get a ticket.
Natasha buzzed her up.
“Come in, Madeline. Would you like some wine?” Natasha asked as she opened the door to her loft.
“Yes, please,” Madeline said as she stepped into Natasha’s Gothic-style living room. “I can’t stay long. My equipment will freeze in the car.”
“It’s bitter out there, yes. But refreshing. Keeps the heart pumping,” Natasha purred as she poured ruby-red wine into a large crystal glass with a silver dragon-claw stem. Madeline accepted the drink and took
a sip.
“You always have the best wine, Natasha.”
“Thank you. I like to try many things. Wine is one of my muses.”
“I have to find a muse,” Madeline said. “A new muse. All my musing has dried up.”
“You feel you are working for working. The excitement doesn’t take hold of you anymore.”
“No. I’ve been writing since I was a kid, and what kid isn’t interested in ghosts? I just never outgrew it.”
“Some interests can last a lifetime, or even longer,” Natasha said as she gazed at Madeline, her pupils so wide they nearly obscured her dark brown irises.
“Some.” Madeline nodded and drank more of her wine. Natasha took a dainty sip and put her glass down.
“So...” Madeline said. “I thought you had to tend to Gus.”
“I do.”
“Then why are you sitting here drinking wine and reading?” Madeline asked.
Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Your book over there, Duma Key. You were reading it just now.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t.” Madeline laughed. “I just know, but I don’t know why. Is it true, Natasha?” Natasha stared at her, and then a slow smile crept along her lips.
“Yes... yes... that is what I was doing.” She nodded slowly and cocked her head. “I’m still reading Duma Key.”
“And how are things with Gus?” Madeline asked.
“We’re still at the getting-to-know-each-other stage. I think we get along fabulously.” Natasha smiled as she took out a cigarette. “Would you like one?”
Madeline stared at it. She hadn’t quit smoking, but she didn’t often find herself craving one either. She took the cigarette and let Natasha light it for her with a large silver rectangular lighter with Natasha written on it in fancy script.
Natasha lit her own and put the lighter away. As she exhaled, she leaned back on the couch, seeming at ease for the first time all night.
“Do these séances wear you out?” Madeline asked. Natasha gazed at the ceiling. From the way Natasha’s eyes fluttered, Madeline knew she was seeing things. Madeline looked up, but she couldn’t see anything at all. Frustrated, she touched Natasha.
“Are you tired?” Madeline asked.
“I’m tired of all these ghosts,” Natasha said. “You live in your world of logic, but I have the world of sensation. Ghosts, thoughts, emotions all ebb and flow around me in an endless ocean of despair. Everyone thinks I’m the pipeline to someone or something. A fucking sword in the stone.”
Madeline nodded. She knew better than to try to respond to Natasha’s diatribe. She couldn’t see or feel the ghosts and therefore couldn’t empathize. Without the power or ability or whatever it was, she always felt a little like a fraud in her own profession.
“Do you think it’s wrong that I record the séances?” Madeline asked. “Do the ghosts get angry and shy away?”
“I think most of them have no concept of what you’re doing. They may be annoyed by something they sense, maybe electricity or something coming from your gadgets. And if they figure how the devices work, they may shut them down. They did tonight.”
Madeline looked at her with wide eyes. “Really?”
“Uh-huh.” Natasha stood up. “Would you like more wine? My glass seems to be empty.”
“Maybe just a tad bit more. It’s so cold out, and you’ve yet to tell me about Gus.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Are you in love?” Natasha laughed.
“Oh, you want girl talk. I thought you wanted an update on his condition.”
“Heavens, no. I want the good stuff. How’s he in bed?”
Natasha blushed. Madeline laughed.
“My Lord, is that the faint trace of a blush I see on your cheeks?” Madeline mocked her.
“Maybe. You really...”
“Oh, please, Natasha. It’s me. Tell me about Gus.”
“We get along magnificently. Better than... well, we’re quite compatible. Both in the bedroom and out.”
“Go on.”
“He’s a fantastic lover.”
“That’s what I was waiting for.” Madeline clapped her hands.
“His kisses are so sweet. Sometimes he is so gentle. And others... oh la la...” Natalie grinned, her white teeth gleaming in the candlelight.
“Are you hungry?” Madeline asked.
“I’m always hungry.”
“I know how that feels.” Madeline patted her belly. “What would happen if I let you have some?”
“Some blood?” Natasha asked. Madeline heard Natasha’s stomach rumble. They both laughed.
“It wouldn’t turn you,” Natasha said. “Not if I stop in time.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then you become a vampire like me.”
“I see.” Madeline furrowed her brow in deep thought as she drank some more of her wine. “I want to try it. I have lots of blood, I’m sure. Look at me. A tasty morsel.” Madeline watched as Natasha studied her, dark eyes wide and worried.
“You are such a good friend,” Natasha said as she stroked Madeline’s face. Natasha’s long, slender fingers were cool against Madeline’s hot cheek. Natasha leaned over to kiss Madeline on the lips. Madeline responded hungrily back as Natasha grabbed her hair at the back of her head. She kissed Madeline gently down her neck as her hand pulled Madeline’s head back.
Madeline closed her eyes and waited for the pain. Natasha’s kisses were warm and wet until at last she settled along a spot on Madeline’s neck.
As Natasha’s teeth punctured Madeline, a small cry escaped from Madeline’s lips. Natasha moaned in relief and suckled nosily, one hand still wrapped in Madeline’s hair, the other holding Madeline’s shoulder.
Madeline sighed, feeling her blood pumping into Natasha’s hungry mouth. The sounds of feasting both intrigued and repelled her. It was no worse than some of those annoying dog-eating-crunchy-food commercials, but the thought that her own blood was the source of such abandonment make her stomach churn.
At last, Natasha had her fill, or at least took what she could, and held the wound with her fingers as she lowered Madeline’s head into her lap. She grabbed a napkin from the nearby coffee table and wiped her bloody mouth while stroking Madeline’s hair with the other hand.
Madeline looked up at her.
“I feel a bit light-headed, but I think I’m okay,” Madeline whispered.
Natasha nodded as she wiped patches of drying blood from Madeline’s face and neck, still keeping her fingers over the wound.
“I know,” Natasha said. “You’re going to be fine. And thank you.”
Madeline closed her eyes and thought about Natasha’s teeth in her neck. Her pussy was still warm, and she wondered if Natasha sensed it. She wondered if she ever loosened up around Gus and assumed that she must. She herself had seen Natasha being almost girlish and giddy around men. Natasha hated it when she was caught mooning over a man, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.
Madeline wondered about the life Natasha must have lived and how many lovers she had experienced.
There was a light tapping on her shoulder.
“My darling, I hate to wake you, but I must use the washroom,” Natasha said, nudging Madeline from her lap.
“I’m so sorry. I must have dozed off.” She sat up and shook herself. “What time is it?” she said. “My Lord, my stuff is still in the car.”
“It’s only been fifteen minutes. Hey.” Natasha reached for Madeline as she bounced up. “Be careful. You might be dizzy,” she said as she reached for Madeline’s hand. Madeline grasped it.
“I’ll be fine.” Madeline stood and balanced herself. When Natasha was certain Madeline was all right, she went into the bathroom.
While she was gone, Madeline made her way over to the hall mirror. She looked at the clotted blood on her neck. It was surreal, as though she was made up for Halloween.
&n
bsp; The idea of Natasha actually drinking her blood made her queasy again, but then she thought about Natasha’s soft, velvet lips against her neck and a shiver ran down her spine.
She returned to the living room, gathered up her purse and was just slipping on her coat when Natasha came back.
“I see you’re ready now.”
“Time to go. The equipment...”
“Yes, and it is getting late.”
Madeline stood in the hallway of the building for a while. She tried to feel the ghosts. She tried to feel vampire-type things in her veins. But she felt nothing.
That’s because there’s nothing to feel, her mother’s voice echoed in her head.
“Not true,” Madeline muttered to herself. “There’s a lot I have to feel. I can feel things. I know I can.”
She walked down the stairs and back outside into the winter wonderland that wasn’t so wonderful.
* * *
When Madeline arrived home, the first thing she did was unpack all her equipment yet again. She enjoyed the evening quiet and hummed as she gathered her data cards. She went over to the computer and plugged them in.
She scrolled through picture after picture, but even when she got to ones she thought might be orbs, she heard her mother’s skeptical voice in the back of her head.
Dust on the lens. That was it. No more and no less.
While Madeline examined her visual evidence, she played back the audio portion of the evening. There were some thumps and other odd noises, but were they supernatural?
It’s an old house. Just the winter storm banging around.
Or was it?
She wondered about the vibration theory. If that were true, she would have to play the recording at another speed.
She tinkered with the controls until she found a speed that seemed to pick up the noises within the noises.
Whooshings and shooshings took on even more nuances as she strained to hear something, anything she could take to Audrey and, better still, put into her next book.
She heard a noise that was different from the others. She rewound and played the segment several times but couldn’t quite hear it.
Aquarius: Haunted Heart Page 3