Twisted Sisters (The Orion Circle Book 2)

by Kimber Leigh Wheaton

  “Noted.” I snuggle against his side when he puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling back a bit when he cringes. “Sorry.”

  “It’ll take some getting used to.” He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “Promise me you’ll be careful in there.”

  “Really? I think it’s me who should be telling you that,” I say, squeezing his hand. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay outside?”

  “Those ghosts have nothing on me today,” he murmurs, a look of defiance gleaming in his eyes. “I got it all out yesterday. You and Daniel are my best friends, and I trust you both. You, on the other hand, have something they can use against you.”

  “My mother.”

  “Yep.” He caresses my thumb with his. “I don’t suppose you’d agree to remain behind.”

  “I already know that my mother is a deadbeat, selfish woman who abandoned me when I needed her most,” I say, trying to keep the hurt from my voice.

  “Mmm, Cici, you have no idea how they’ll take your thoughts and manipulate them until you can’t see straight,” Daniel says without taking his gaze from the road. “I thought I’d come to terms with my father until those three bitches came calling.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I bite out, angry that my mother is causing problems from all the way in Arizona through her mere existence.

  “I hope so, ‘cause we’re here,” Rebecca says, a tiny tremor in her voice. “The extermination tent is downright creepy.”

  Silence fills the car as Daniel pulls the SUV up the driveway beside the tent-covered house. The red-and-white tent sticks out‌—‌a garish display on the otherwise quiet residential street dotted with normal houses. As I step out of the car, I take a few deep breaths, testing the air for the heaviness of dark energy. The air is still, so quiet, but my bracelet dances to a rhythm of its own. Poe settles down on the bumper of the SUV, his dark eyes regarding the two cats winding around Logan’s legs. They seem to come to a mutual agreement as there is no loud cawing or angry hisses. Poe takes flight, soaring to land on the edge of the tent near the front porch.

  “Rebecca, you need to stay out here,” Logan says when she starts across the dry grass.

  “But—”

  “You are our link to the outside world.” He pauses as the cavalry arrives in the white Circle van. “I trust your judgment. If you think things are beyond our abilities, send in Raven and Blake to get us out.”

  “Okay.” Rebecca plops down, the dry grass crunching around her. “You have an hour, or until all hell breaks loose… whichever comes first.”

  “We go in as a united front,” Logan says, taking my left hand and motioning for Daniel to take my right. “We are stronger together. Kacie, you can pull on my energy as well as Daniel’s. We are here to support you and protect Angela.”

  I take Daniel’s hand, oddly glad that it’s as sweaty as mine. Nerves I guess. We walk through the brittle grass, probably looking ready to play a game of Red Rover or something. Angela follows behind us, so close I can hear her quick breathing in the eerie silence. A wicked cackle breaks the stillness, sending a chill through me. Daniel, Logan, and I present our united front, staring at the tent rippling near Poe. He screeches, flying off the tent to circle our heads, still cawing his displeasure. His calls sound like a warning, a siren I know we should heed. The two cats approach the tent, their backs arched, and their fur fluffed. They hiss at the tent in unison before turning tail and running back to the SUV.

  “Don’t run, Angela,” Logan says without looking over his shoulder. “These three feed on fear. You have to swallow it and move forward with us.”

  “I’m fine,” she says in a steady tone. “I’m ready to do this. It’s time for all four of us to move on.”

  “Take my hand,” Daniel says, holding his right hand out to Angela.

  “We’re ready,” I call out to Blake, standing near the tent flap.

  He nods, then bends over and slices through the zip ties holding the fabric closed. When he slices through the last tie, the flap flies open, hitting him in the face.

  “Call me if you need me,” Blake says, grabbing the fluttering tent with both hands. “Remember, I have great hearing. I’ll hear you even if it’s just a whisper.” The last sentence is directed toward Angela.

  “Were…” Angela trails off waiting for an answer.

  “Wolf, yes.”

  “Good to know,” Angela says, seemingly unfazed by his admission. I suppose with her odd familiars, she’s probably well-acquainted with the supernatural world.

  “Be careful.” Blake pulls the tent higher so we can enter. “It’s awfully quiet in there.”

  “We’re hoping this encounter is anticlimactic,” Logan says as he leads us through the open front door.

  “You hoped wrong.” A feminine voice cackles, ringing through the hallway.

  Daniel’s hand is ripped from mine as he flies into the wall behind us. Frigid winds batter me, sending my hair swirling around my head. My fingers tighten around Logan’s hand, and I brush the hair from my eyes with my forearm. Electricity crackles in the air around us. Tiny goosebumps crop up on my arms. Logan’s aura brushes against me, a feather-like, tickling sensation. The moment our auras merge, the heaviness in the air vanishes, and I take a deep breath. I push my aura outward until it envelopes Daniel and Angela where they fell to the floor.

  “What is this?” one of the ghosts asks in a scratchy tone, like she’d gargled glass. She pokes at our psychic barrier with an ethereal finger but is unable to penetrate it.

  “Thanks.” Daniel pushes to his feet. He holds his hand out to Angela and pulls her from the floor. “You okay?”

  Angela nods, her eyes wide. “Yeah. Surprised, but okay.”

  “Don’t ignore me!” The loud shriek hurts my ears, but I pretend to find something immensely interesting on my nails. A painting flies from the wall, crashing next to my feet. I swallow down my scream and clench my teeth. “Stop it! Stop ignoring me.”

  “That’s a rather ugly painting, don’t you think?” Daniel says, bending over to inspect the broken masterpiece. He runs his fingers along the canvas. “Art student, 1989, really full of herself. No heart in this piece at all.”

  One of the spirits materializes inches from his face. Even with the years of acting, I’m still impressed when Daniel fails to react to her silvery presence. As far as I’m aware, Daniel can’t see the colorful energy of our protective auras. His trust bolsters my belief in my own abilities.

  “Normally when I touch art, I can feel the emotions of the artist.” He pauses, straightening back up. The spirit follows his every move. “This one, there’s nothing but precision, like paint by numbers.”

  “You. Will. Not. Ignore. Us!” The three spirits scream in unison, sending a whirlwind battering against our shield.

  Logan raises a hand, not speaking until the wind around us dies down. “I understand you are angry and hurt and maybe confused. We are here to help you, but we won’t unless you calm down and talk to us.”

  The spirit circling Daniel moves to tower over Logan, her visage changing from translucent silver to dark gray. Her form warps until it has the appearance of a tall, twisted shadow person. But she isn’t a demonic, inhuman shadow. She is still the spirit of a young woman, murdered in a heinous fashion, then banished from our plane. It’s eerie, though, seeing her take this demented form‌—‌I wonder if she knows this is what might be in store for her if she continues to embrace her rage and hatred. I always wondered if shadow people were ever human spirits… now I think I know the answer. Maybe they were human spirits who couldn’t let go of their past life and finally went insane, allowing evil to consume them.

  “No, not today,” I mumble under my breath.

  “Huh?” Logan asks with a quizzical look.

  I shake my head. “Just thinking aloud… about the origin of shadow people.”

  “We brought someone who wants to talk to you,” Logan tells the dark spirit creeping up the wall to the ce
iling. “She wants to help. But you need to calm down enough to share your story. Tell us what happened to you. Why are you so angry?”

  “Calm down? Calm down!” The spirit voices shriek the words together, over and over until they reach a deafening crescendo.

  “Please,” Angela shouts through the echoing din. “I’m so sorry. Please… just…” An anguished sob cuts off her words, and she doubles over holding her stomach. Daniel wraps his arm around her shoulders, but she straightens and shrugs him away. “I. Am. So sorry,” she manages to say with a quavering voice. “I… I never… meant…”

  The spirit voices stop, leaving my ears ringing in the silent corridor. Logan and I exchange a glance. They seem to be gone for now. I don’t know whether it’s good or bad. They could be off conspiring against us. We continue down the narrow hall, broken glass from multiple shattered pictures crackling beneath our feet. So many torn, ruined faces smiling up at us from the floor. Group sorority photos from every year must have lined these walls. From the devastation, it looks like the spirits were extra vengeful in here. Perhaps year after year of happy faces weighed a bit too heavily on them.

  The kitchen isn’t much better, but at least the table and several chairs are upright. Broken dishes and glassware litter the floor to the point that the ceramic tile is mostly hidden by the debris. Such immense rage and power. My pulse leaps. Biting my lip, I force my breathing into an even pace. Can’t let the ghosts know I’m scared. Paranormal Investigations 101. Everything preys on weakness, from werewolves to vampires to demonic spirits.

  “When will they return?” Angela asks as Daniel helps her into one of the sturdy, wooden chairs.

  “Don’t know.” Logan leans against the wall. He crosses his arms over his chest. “We’ll just have to wait. Perhaps you should try talking to them, since it’s quiet.”

  “Um, okay.” Angela clears her throat. “I came to say I’m sorry. I didn’t know… no that’s not quite true.” She pauses and stares at her hands folded in her lap. “I didn’t know the atrocities he planned. I didn’t know he’d hurt you. He seemed so nice, so loving. I know now that it was all an act, an act I should have seen through—” She gasps in several quick breaths. “I should have read him. I should have known better. Why did I believe him…” She trails off, burying her face in her hands.

  This is deteriorating fast. Logan pushes away from the wall and limps over to Angela. “Tell them your side of the story, Angela. About your relationship and what happened after the… tragedy.” He leans down and whispers, “Be strong for them. They’ve already suffered so much. You can do this.”

  “O-okay. I remember the day we met as though it were yesterday. He was so charming and so handsome‌—‌every girl in the class couldn’t stop staring.” She raises her head, staring off at the wall, her eyes glazed. “I will never forget the thrill when he chose me to help him with his research. Me. Of all the girls, he chose me.”

  When she doesn’t continue, Daniel asks, “What kind of research?”

  “Oh, it was fascinating. He was doing research for the CIA into mind control and interrogation aids. Jeffrey was so committed to his work.”

  “I’ll just bet he was,” Daniel murmurs. I send him a dark glare, and he has the decency to look sheepish.

  “Please, Angela, do continue your pathetic love story,” a thready, female voice says.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Memories & Forgiveness

  LOGAN

  I push back from Angela, ready for battle. But the three spirits float calmly in the center of the kitchen. When a hand grips my arm, I can’t help but jump a bit. Kacie whispers an apology as she joins me, blocking Angela from the three ghosts. They don’t attack or speak, just continue to hover.

  “It didn’t seem pathetic at the time,” Angela says, peeking around my side to peer at the spirits of her long gone friends. “I was young and in love.”

  “You were weak and stupid,” the three say as one.

  Creepy with a capital ‘C’. They can obviously communicate telepathically. That can’t be good for us.

  “I know you’re upset, and I can’t claim to have even the slightest understanding of the horror you endured,” Kacie says, stepping toward the filmy phantoms. “You were hurt in a horrible way, went through so much pain and suffering.”

  “What could you possibly know of our suffering?” One of the spirits separates from the group and towers over Kacie, her form fading from silver to a darker gray. Not good.

  “It’s me you’re angry at,” Angela says, reaching out a shaking hand toward them. “Don’t take out your anger on her. She’s just trying to help.”

  The spirit moves to tower over Angela. When she doesn’t flinch under the spirit’s intangible pressure, my respect for her rises a notch. She raises her chin, staring at the angry energy with a calm expression.

  “I was there…” Angela’s voice hitches and she takes a deep breath. “It was my fault. I can never really tell you how sorry I am. I loved him. I trusted him… and I thought he loved me too.”

  “How dare—”

  Angela cuts the spirit off midsentence. “No, Tracy, please just listen. I have suffered every single day. In and out of institutions, watching the people around me find love, have children, while I couldn’t recover from the bitter betrayal. Jeffrey made himself my world. In hindsight I know he used his mind control experiments to mold me into the perfect accomplice, but at the time, I thought it was passion and undying love. When he… when he used me to… well…”

  A dark gray spirit appears beside Angela. “Well, come on. You can say it.”

  Angela’s head whips around to look at the new spirit. “Renee! I‌—‌I never wanted—”

  “Wanted what, Angela?” Renee draws out Angela’s name in a mocking tone. “Watch Tracy get hacked to bits? Watch Amy gouge her own cheeks in her terror? But lucky you didn’t get to see me destroyed by two cars. You know I lived for a while after. Felt every broken bone, every gash torn in my skin.”

  “I watched,” a third spirit says as she materializes on Angela’s other side. For some reason she is still silvery, like the anger hasn’t consumed her as much as the others. “I died somewhere on the way down the stairs. While my spirit hovered over my dead body, I saw Renee run by. I called to her, but she didn’t hear me, so I chased after her. I don’t think I knew I was dead at the time. All I remember is screaming at her to stop. I watched her run toward the street, saw the cars coming from opposite directions. It was so late at night. Why were there two cars out there? It was almost like fate or something. I remember screeching and banging and screaming… then nothing.”

  Angela chokes back a sob. “Oh, Amy, I can still see everything like a bright-colored movie in my mind. I thought I was having a bad trip. Jeffrey told me not to move because I might hurt myself. I believed him. We’d been studying the effects of LSD, so I assumed… the idea that it was really happening… seemed impossible, even in my haze. But even then, I couldn’t just sit by and watch. Jeffrey… he… he tied me up. I tried to fight, but he was so strong.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Amy’s wavering spirit says. “You were a victim just like us.”

  “How can you say that?” Tracy says as her spirit energy darkens. “She brought him here. She did nothing to stop him. She knew he was giving us drugs and didn’t care!”

  “I have to let go of the hate.” Amy’s silvery visage dims a bit. “Look at her. She’s suffered her whole life.”

  “At least she had a life!” Tracy says, moving to cower over Amy.

  “It doesn’t sound like it was much of one.” Amy floats across the room, her form becoming less tangible. “I forgive you, Angela. Try to forgive yourself… Oh my… the light‌—‌it’s so pretty, so warm.” Her spirit energy floats upwards before fading to nothing.

  One down, two to go…

  Angela lifts her hand as though to wave, then lowers it. “Goodbye, Amy. Please rest in peace.”

  “Pathetic.�
��

  “Sheesh, Amy always was a softie.”

  I don’t know who said what, but it’s obvious these two won’t move on quite as peacefully as Amy did. A wave of intense energy batters against the shield formed by my aura merged with Kacie’s‌—‌a penetrating heaviness that makes my teeth ache. I’d hate to feel that without a psychic shield.

  “Again… how? How do you keep us out?” Tracy asks, her ghostly eyes filled with curiosity rather than anger.

  I decide to indulge her curiosity… I’ll take that over rage any day. “Kacie and I are psychically linked. We can merge our auras and form a barrier of sorts.”

  Tracy stares at me for a moment, then a large, feral grin spreads across her face, making her look like an evil Cheshire Cat. “Psychically linked… psychically linked.” She taps a finger on her chin. “I bet you have no idea just how devastating that will end up being.”

  “What’s so damn funny?” Renee asks as her spirit darkens further. Not good…

  “Think about it. What have we learned about psychic energy?”

  Tracy giggles, a sound that belongs in a psych ward rather than a sorority house‌—‌then again, maybe not. Her hysterical laughter echoes around us, deafening, mocking. When Renee joins in, I have to keep myself from covering my ears. I won’t let them know how much they bother me.

  “Are you going to share your maniacal thoughts or just laugh?” Kacie snaps, her jaw clenched, but her expression bland.

  Tracy stops laughing as though someone threw a switch. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

  Renee continues to giggle, covering her mouth with an ethereal hand. Interesting… the more they laugh the lighter their spirits become. Both are now the color of mild storm clouds rather than those that create downpours.

  “Enlighten us.” My voice is controlled, but my glare is not.

  “Ooh, look at the scary, angry boy,” Renee says before bursting into more giggles.

  “You two are psychically connected.” Tracy waves her hand in dismissal, like her words explain everything. I hate feeling slow, but I don’t get where they’re leading me.