“No!” Connor and I shouted at the same time.
“Do it,” she told him with a firm nod.
Connor shook his head, but squared his shoulders. I turned away, burying my face in my shoulder. He shifted both my wrists into his one larger hand, freeing his other one. He straightened my chin and, after a quick lick to his puffy, bruised lip, his mouth met mine. Again, I was overwhelmed by disgust, the heat and warmth coming off him. He hated it, too. I tasted it on his tongue. Connor hesitated, eyes closed, and gave me the opportunity I’d been waiting for, crashing my forehead into his. He stumbled back, almost pulling my arm from its socket.
“Ugh,” he groaned, rubbing his hand against his forehead. I laughed at the red welt already forming above his eyebrow.
I sneered. “You’re so pathetic. Weak. Useless. All you ever did was hold her back.”
His free hand came back in retaliation and I thought for a minute he would hit me. I braced for it. I wanted it. I wanted him to crack, prove he was no better than I was now. He balled his fist in the air and slammed it into the post behind me. Gritting his teeth as his knuckles crunched under the pressure. Jeannie gasped and shouted, “Connor, no!” She grabbed for his hand.
Connor pushed her back. “I’m good,” he said. “She’s messing with me.” Guilt weighed heavily on him for almost hitting me. I could see it in every feature on his face. Sucker. “This one wants me to stop,” he said, eyeing me warily. “But Jane? I’m not so sure.”
When he moved closer he didn’t kiss me, but used his free hand to push my hair off my forehead. He ran a finger down my cheek and I clenched my jaw, twisting my head away. I scoffed and said, “Jane’s not here.”
Connor raised his eyebrow and said, “I think you protest too much.”
“I think,” I whispered, luring him closer, “you’re still living in the past.” I wiggled with the small amount of room I had and sunk my knee in his crotch.
“Oof,” he grunted, bending over, arm wrapped around his waist. Connor blinked back tears of pain, his face contorting in absolute rage and betrayal. “Would your girlfriend do that?”
He wiped his eye and stood, taking short, measured breaths. “My girlfriend? Totally. She’d kick my ass to the end of next week if I made her mad. She’d dump me in the middle of juvenile lock-up. She’d write me letter after letter even though I couldn’t send them in return – hoping I’d beat my demons. She’d lie about her safety, do everything she could for a friend. Whatever she needed to help someone in need. Dead or alive.”
I rolled my eyes.
“She’d never give up on me. Ever.” He stepped closer, a strong, determined look crossed his face. “I’m not about to give up on her.”
“It’s pointless,” I argued, bracing myself for another assault. But he simply stood before me, hand running down the side of my face, settling on my chin. His blue eyes pierced mine and he kissed me soft, barely grazing my lips. “What? Do you think love will bring her back?” I asked between tortured kisses.
He must have, because he didn’t stop, kissing me slow and gentle. His fingers stroked my hair and face, down the length of my arm. The room grew warm and heavy. My lips tingled from use, not desire. I lifted my arms to push him back but they fell limp, like they were tied with weights. My will to fight him diminished. “What have you done?” I asked in a groggy voice, looking for Jeannie.
“It’s not me,” he breathed. His fingers dug into my hips and his beard scraped against my chin. Closing my eyes, I sunk into the intensity of the kiss, my resolve caving. The anger that had filled every fiber of my being dissipated and my knees buckled, weak under the pressure. Connor took my breath away.
“Jane” he said from far away. “Open your eyes.”
I blinked and saw him outside the circle, cast in a warm, purple glow. Crows dotted the floor around his feet. Each held a shiny piece of metal in their beak. “Connor?”
He waved me over. “Come here.”
I lifted my hand and studied my wrist. We were no longer bound. I stepped out of the circle and looked back. My body stayed in the same spot, tied to Connor’s. Jeanie stood over us like a guard.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked. The purple light surrounding Connor shone so bright I couldn’t get any closer.
“Follow the birds. They’ll take you out of here.”
My shoulder slumped. This was a dream. Or maybe I was finally dead.
“Jane, follow them.”
The birds hopped along, inky and black like the ones that fell from the bottle Evan held in my dream so many months ago. They moved in an unclear direction. I stepped in the middle and moved, hop by hop, behind them. “This way?” I asked Connor, trying not to squish any of them as they fluttered around the floor.
“You’ll know,” he replied vaguely.
The birds stopped at the stone wall and I watched as they pecked at it with their hard, black beaks, chipping away at an invisible crack. They diligently made the space large enough and, one by one, pushed their heads through the wall, beak first and tail feathers last, disappearing from the room. “Where are you going?” I asked the last bird.
He flew to my shoulder, a slender piece of metal glinting from his beak. I held my hand up and the bird placed the object in my hand. He flew back to the ground and squeezed through the crack.
I held up the object and saw the silver reflect in the dim candlelight. Stepping forward, I ran my hand down the wall until I found the exact spot. I inserted the key into the wall, like I’d done before. The lock flipped and the door opened, letting the cold air rush inside.
I glanced back at Connor who nodded, confirming what I had to do to end this. “Heads up.” The key sailed through the air and he caught it effortlessly.
“Later,” I called, for lack of better words. He knew what it meant. That I prayed this wasn’t a goodbye. Just because dead was dead didn’t mean we wouldn’t see one another again.
With a deep, steadying breath, I faced the doorway. Like the flock of birds before me, I slipped into the dark just as Connor shut the door behind me and locked it tight.
Chapter 30
Floating felt different than flying, or at least that was what I told myself. The birds were long gone. I should’ve known by now that they never stayed. They existed for transport, ushering a soul to one place or the other. Once they completed their job, they move to the next one. Sort of like me and my ghosts.
I floated in a vast space of nothingness, warm, not cold. My hands slick, lungs tight. Even in death, I needed to breathe and the lack of air filled my chest with a million pins, each hoping to release oxygen into my system.
A dot of light appeared in the darkness and I swam toward it, muscles heavy, lungs burning. I only had seconds left before the oxygen ran out and I suffocated. I moved faster, arms pulling through the dense water until I reached the light and pushed though.
*
I opened and closed my eyes, absorbing another room in another space. This one was familiar. Tony’s painting hung on the wall and I realized I’d come full circle. I was back in the gallery.
“Ava!” I cried. Her body was the first thing I saw. I lunged in her direction but strong arms held me back. I looked down and saw the gun in my hands and dropped it on the floor with a thud. “Let me go, I need to see her!”
Across the room, a dozen foggy-eyed people stared at me. Jeannie knelt over the bodies. Ava and Christian no longer hung from the ceiling. Their bodies were bloody and limp on the floor. Dead. I’d killed them. Shot Ava in the chest.
“Jane,” Connor said, holding me by the shoulders, blocking my way. I shoved against him. He held firm, making eye contact, and asked the strangest question. “What was the first book we talked about?”
I blinked, focusing on his beautiful, worried face. I’d been sure I would never see it again. I touched his chin. “What?”
“Answer me.”
“Um… Catcher in the Rye. You were dealing with a pretty obvious Holden Caulfield
boy crush. What the hell is wrong with you? Let me go. I need to see her!”
He picked me up and crushed me in a massive hug. “Oh, thank God, I thought you were gone.”
I was stuck on the carnage at the front of the room. Blood, bruises, and what appeared to be Tony’s half-decomposing body on the platform. Bile rose in the back my throat and I fought to stay composed. “How long was I gone?” I asked, still feeling the water on my skin.
“Gone? From where?”
“Here? I projected or something.”
The lines of concern burrowed deeper in his forehead. “You never left. You were here the whole time. Waving that gun at us.”
Jeannie left the bodies and made her way through the crowd. “Oh, honey,” she said, holding my face between her hands. “That was a close one. Really close.”
“Ava,” I said, still wanting to get to my friend.
Jeannie glanced toward the door. “Connor, we need to get her out of here.”
“What? Why?” I asked. If someone didn’t take me to Ava soon I was going to lose it.
A man approached the three of us, his voice gruff. “Take her somewhere safe. And give me that gun.” He seemed familiar and was followed by two other people. I recognized them, too.
“The werewolf?” I whispered, eyeing his scruffy beard, wild eyes. He took the gun from Connor without another word and pushed through the crowd, holding up a badge. The dazed people moved aside easily.
I saw the gun strapped against his back. A wave of dread washed over me and I leaned into Connor for support. “He’s a cop?”
“Yes,” Jeannie said, leading us toward the door. “Thankfully.”
“Don’t they want to arrest me? I did this. All of this.”
“We’ll talk about it later, but right now they want you out of here so they can clean up and take care of things.”
“But Ava? I shot her. I remember.”
“Ava and Christian are going to be fine,” she promised, gripping my hand. I choked back a sob and tried to see them across the room. All that blood. How could anyone be okay?
“Tony?”
“No,” she shook her head, pushing us out the door. “Tony’s dead. I’ll explain everything to you later, I promise, but it’s not safe for you here. Go. Take her to Nina’s. We’ll meet you later.”
*
Twenty-eight…
The chimes downstairs jingled and I paused my ceiling tile-counting game. It did not have the same effect as sheep.
Connor slept fitfully, squished between my body and the couch cushions. Jaw tensed and fingers tangled loosely in mine. At least he managed to drift off. He’d coaxed me to lie next to him, but actual sleep eluded me. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the weight of the gun. The blood pooling on the floor. The hateful words I’d said to Connor. Worst of all was the way the energy flowed between Tony and me and how he’d been torn in half. The paintings flashed in my mind like a movie. Each minute was excruciating.
Kelsey. Tony killed her. Ava and Christian. He’d kidnapped them and I tried to kill them. Murderers all around.
I stayed awake and waited.
I sat up once I heard the footsteps, my heart lodged in my throat. Jeannie had told me to come here, and that everything would be okay, but how could it be? I’d shot someone in the real world. In the supernatural one, things had gone even further. I braced myself for the worst.
“Hey,” Jeannie said, peeking in the door, holding up a tray of coffee cups.
I put my finger to my lips and pointed to Connor. She waved me to the kitchen and I got up carefully so I wouldn’t wake him up. I felt another pang of guilt when I saw the ugly bruise over his eye and the bloody tear in his lip. I’d done so much damage.
“I thought we’d lost you for a minute,” she said when I entered the kitchen and she threw her arms around me.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, the lamest of all the questions I had. I didn’t know where Nina or the others were. How I projected in a room full of people? There were too many holes, but I focused on the important one. “How’s Ava? Christian?”
“They’re both doing well, they’re at the hospital now.”
“Jeannie, I shot her. How can she be fine?” I sat across from her at the kitchen table. She ran her hands over mine. Feeling my aura as well as seeing it.
“You missed. You shot at her but you didn’t hit her.”
“I missed?”
“She kicked you and the bullet went wide. It’s lodged in the wall of the gallery. She does have some major bruising and lacerations from on her hands and wrists.”
“Wow, okay. I just… I missed?”
“Did you think you’d have a good shot? How many times have you used a gun?”
“Never,” I said, flustered. “I’m… I’m so confused. Can you just tell me what’s going on? Where are the police?”
“Well, I think we got everything cleaned up and taken care of. The gallery is still a crime scene, but there’s no evidence you were involved.”
“Okay, that sounds very ‘mob like.’”
“Yeah, I guess it does. Lucky for you there is a society down here and you’re part of it. They’ll always protect you.”
“You mean Nina’s group?”
“Yes. Detective Martin…”
“The werewolf?” I interrupted.
“Yes,” she smiled. “He’s one of us, but works with the police. He’s managed to smooth this over, hiding any supernatural element. Another member, Margaret, is skilled in compulsion. She was able to make the guests forget what they’d seen.”
“What about Tony? He melted. How could they explain that?”
“That’s what this group is for. They’ll figure it out. Make up some kind of story people are willing to buy. Something you’ll learn is that people see what they want to see. It won’t be difficult.”
“It seems wrong. Like taking the easy way out,” I argued. I wasn’t comfortable with someone else taking the blame for my mistakes.
“What would you tell them? That Tony was possessed and murdered Kelsey? That he sold his soul and was possessed by evil spirits, hell bent on taking over?” She clutched my hand. “With your background of mental issues, they’d lock you up in the hospital for good. Connor would surely be found in some sort of probation violation. Neither of those are going to happen while I’m here to protect you.”
“What about Darius and Nina? Is Misha okay?”
“They’re fine, physically. When you kicked that demon out of your body, everyone else was released, too.”
“How the heck did I do that?”
She shook her head slowly. “I hate to break it to you, girl, but you’re tough. Like really tough.”
“Being possessed by a powerful spirit didn’t feel very tough,” I said, tracing the grain in the wooden tabletop with my finger. “I felt weak.”
“Your light never faded. Not once. I knew you were in that body the whole time. You never let go.”
Tears filled my eyes and I blinked them back. “That’s not true. I gave up. Completely. Connor told me to follow the birds and I did, blindly.” Or did he? I no longer knew what was real last night.
Jeannie smiled, tired and weary. The wrinkles on her face were more noticeable after the long, stressful night. “That’s called faith. You trusted him and look what happened? You came out the other side.”
“It’s that simple?”
“Life isn’t that complicated, Jane. Love and hate. Good and evil. Those emotions and energy run the world. You tipped the scales when you stole energy that wasn’t yours to take. There’s always a price. Even for the good stuff.”
“Like trusting people.”
“You give up a little bit of yourself when you have faith in another person. But what they give you back is more than enough to fill the gap. Everything in life carries the possibility of risk. You’ve got to figure out how to balance it, but you can’t do that if you’re constantly fighting against everyone.”
�
��Like Connor.”
“Or me.”
I dropped my face into my hands. “I’m so sorry.”
Jeannie took my hands back and forced me to look at her. “This isn’t entirelyall your fault. I kept things from you that could have helped and I allowed you too much freedom to test your abilities on your own. Jane, you’re young and very powerful. I haven’t been completely honest with you, but I will be from now on. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“There’s more?” Oh God, not more. I didn’t want to know anything else.
She nodded. “A lot. And you’ll know all of it, soon.”
*
The next day was sunny and bright, almost like spring. It felt contrary to the feelings in my heart. My soul still felt torn in two. Would I ever move past that feeling of violation? I doubted it. Like everything else, it was something I’d have to learn to live with. Without the addictive behavior and more balance.
Crap, they were totally going to make me take yoga or something terrible like that.
“I can’t go in there,” I said, pacing outside the hospital door. “She hates me.”
“Of course she doesn’t,” Connor said. “You go in there and I’ll go talk to Christian.”
“What are you going tell him? At least Ava knows what happened – sort of.”
“I’ll play it by ear. Jeannie gave me some tips.”
I shook my head. “Great. This just keeps getting more complicated. Why can’t we have a simple, easy life?”
Connor wrapped his arm around my waist and pushed me gently against the wall. “Easy isn’t in our cards, Jane Watts.” He pressed his lips against mine.
The warm feeling brought back a flood of memories, some good, some not. “Are you sure you don’t remember anything from when I projected at the gallery?”
“Nothing,” he said, but his eyes shift to the side. “From what you said, I’m glad I don’t.” His hand touched my cheek. “I’d never hurt you like that.”
“I hurt you first,” I said, grazing his bruised lip.
“It’s over. Stop procrastinating,” he said, arching his eyebrow. “Go see Ava.”
Grave Possession (Wraith 3) Page 23