Twisted Sisters (The Orion Circle Book 2)

by Kimber Leigh Wheaton

  Renee’s laughter cuts in an instant. “Love is destined to fail, to die. It never lasts. You two will hate each other someday‌—‌probably sooner rather than later.”

  Tracy’s smile turns nasty. “When you can no longer stand the mere thought of the other, you’ll still be psychically connected.”

  “Love is fleeting, but psychic powers are forever.” Renee finishes with a big flourish of her arms.

  “We aren’t in love.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them. What if Kacie feels something more than… whatever this closeness and attraction is.

  Kacie shakes her head. She looks thoughtful, her eyes far away. Her nose scrunches up the way it does when she’s working on a puzzle.

  “I really like Logan. But…” She pauses, glancing at me. I nod for her to continue. “But… at this point it’s irrelevant anyway. What you’re talking about may or may not happen. If we must be psychically connected forever, then we’ll have to find a way to deal with it. I can’t imagine ever hating him.”

  “Stupid, naïve girl,” Tracy says after a snort of laughter.

  “Meh, you’re just pissed that your attempt at deflection failed to work,” Daniel says, smirking at the pair. “We’re here to help you move on or banish you to whatever hell evil spirits go to. One or the other. The choice is yours. But I’m getting bored, and I have a date tonight so let’s get this moving.”

  Another wave of shadowy energy washes over us, leaving the air crackling in its wake. Daniel may be my best friend, but sometimes he can be a bit tactless when dealing with the distraught‌—‌people or spirits. Before I can try to smooth things over, the spirit energy darkens along with my vision, dragging me into the depths of their combined memories.

  Handsome. Angela is so lucky. I wonder if she’ll share. Whatever this new drug is, it’s making me feel… free. Free of inhibitions, of worry, of self. My mind floats on a cloud as I watch the professor cuddle up to Angela. He’s so hot… yet his eyes are cold. A shiver courses through me when his eyes meet mine. Death. I see death in them. Though I try, I’m unable to break eye contact. Please… I struggle to tear my gaze from his as a horrible sense of foreboding washes over me.

  Is it the drugs? Maybe a bad trip? I watch detached as the gorgeous professor’s face morphs into something darker… evil. After rummaging through his duffel bag, he pulls out a small bundle, unrolling it with a flourish. Knives. Lots of knives‌—‌all different kinds. He pulls out a hunting knife with a curved, serrated edge. My body freezes as he runs the blade down Amy’s arm in a quick motion. It’s so sharp; I don’t think she felt the pain. Maybe he didn’t really… no, a deep line of crimson forms on her arm, and she lets out a whimper when she sees the blood.

  “Now for a little hide and seek,” the nutty professor says as he wipes the knife on a white rag. The blood stains look so stark against the sea of white. I can’t take my eyes from it. “I’ll count to twenty. Hide or I’ll kill you. Now!”

  Amy jumps to her feet, an earsplitting scream pouring from her lips. She races from the room while I lurch and stumble to my feet. My head whips from side to side as I try to think of a good place to hide. I run into the hall, colliding with Amy. My head spins. Before I can recover, the professor strolls from the room, slicing arcs through the air with his hunting knife.

  “Too slow!” The professor grabs Amy’s arm and swipes the knife down her other arm, giving her matching red stripes.

  She wrenches away and falls to the floor, trying to scramble away but slipping on the blood that dripped to the hardwood floor.

  “Your turn, little girl.” He turns to me with a psychotic gleam in his eyes. He drops the hunting knife and pulls a long butcher knife from sheath on his belt. “Better to stab you with.”

  His maniacal laughter fills the hallway as he lunges for me. I scamper backward but trip over Amy, falling across her prone form. The knife plunges into my thigh. Odd, no pain. All I feel is immense pressure.

  “Come on,” Amy shrieks as she pulls me to my feet. “Run!”

  “Yes, yes, run, little mice. I do enjoy the chase.”

  Amy drops my hand and races away toward the stairs and potential freedom. I reach the spiral staircase just in time to watch her tumble down, her body crashing on each wooden stair. Screams and loud cracking fill the air around me. Then silence. I lean over the rail to see her body lying in a pool of blood. A broken, discarded ragdoll. My mouth opens to scream. Nothing but a quiet, sobbing mewl emerges.

  I wrench myself from the vision, trying to force my focus back to the present while not letting the spirits know they got to me. It’s a losing battle. Sometime during the vision, I collapsed. Now I’m lying on the floor, my head resting on Kacie’s lap. Our psychic shield is still in place, but beads of sweat have formed on Kacie’s forehead from the stress of maintaining it. I feel a firm pressure on my chest, like I dropped the weight bar on myself while doing bench presses. The shadows are larger, looming. I don’t think we can hold the shield much longer. It’s time for some drastic measures.

  “Are you okay?” Kacie whispers in my ear, her voice shaky, revealing her fear.

  “Yeah, but I need to go back.” Even as the words leave my mouth I realize how crazy they sound. I push up from the floor. For some reason I feel more in control standing. Stupid, I know. I’ll probably just collapse again during the vision. But right now… right now I feel the need to appear strong.

  “You can’t.” Kacie grips my shoulder, her fingers digging in. “They’re too powerful. You might get… lost.”

  Lost. Caught between worlds, realms, planes, whatever. A fate worse than death. Entering a vision is similar to astral projection in that the mind separates from the body for a brief time‌—‌perhaps merging with the energy of the spirit? It’s an unknown. If my mind is torn from my body a coma would result. My body would be whole minus what makes it me. Craptastic.

  “No choice,” I say, steeling my shoulders. “I have to know what happened to Renee. Her emotions were wild, but I felt guilt. I think that may be what holds her here. She needs to let go of the guilt.”

  “This is a bad idea,” Daniel says, his eyes never leaving the dark shadows looming. “If you have to go, then go… but hurry back.” He steps between me and the ghosts, as though that could make any difference if they decide to attack.

  “I won’t be long.” Closing my eyes, I send my psychic power out toward Renee’s dark energy. It’s like an anti-beacon, and my light zeroes in on the darkness. Electricity thrums in the air, raising the hair on the back of my arms. With a jolt I return to the vision.

  I start down the stairs, one timid step at a time, my eyes never leaving Amy’s unmoving form. Her neck is bent at an odd angle, her eyes wide and unblinking. Dead. Gone. I back up a couple steps but am stopped by the most anguished wail I’ve ever heard. Deep, keening, such awful torment. Broken words follow the scream, prayers to God for help. My hand clenches the handrail to the point of pain, my fingernails digging into the cold wood.

  Another agonized scream reverberates around me, and I take off running. Ignoring Angela’s desperate cries for help, I race down the stairs, tripping over Amy’s sprawled legs. I scramble back to my feet and run from the house, horrible screams chasing me like a wailing banshee. My heart pounds to the point of pain, my breath coming in ragged pants. Bare feet slapping the cold pavement, I race away.

  Bright lights blind me, and I realize a moment too late that they are headlights. Brakes screech, such an awful sound combined with my own screams. White-hot pain sears through my body as I hit the pavement and skid. Shouting fills my ears, but it’s strange‌—‌like they’re moving farther away the closer they get. Sound fades away leaving nothing but a hollow ringing in its wake. People gather around me, all staring, unmoving. Why aren’t they helping me? So tired. I close my eyes and pray for the pain to stop.

  Moments later the horrible pain disappears, and I feel light, like I could float away. I open my eyes to find myself flo
ating above the people clustered around my battered body. A beautiful light appears, rainbow, warm and welcoming. I’m drawn toward the light. Peace lies beyond, I’m sure. I drift forward until a terrible scream cuts through my reverie. Angela and Tracy, they’re still suffering‌—‌I have to help. When I pull away from the light, I feel a rough tearing sensation, like ripping a bandage from a raw, weeping wound.

  I abandoned my friends once; I won’t do it again…

  Chapter Seventeen

  Retreat

  KACIE

  Logan sinks the ground, his knee bending at an awkward angle. Daniel and I each take one of his arms, helping him into a more comfortable position. I kneel beside him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to lend my strength. Allowing a partial possession is not only draining, it can be downright dangerous. He groans before rubbing a hand across his forehead. The psychic shield we had managed to form is tenuous at best as Logan’s blue aura pulses and fades. We’re running out of time.

  Logan coughs and leans back against me. “I know now. I understand.”

  “Shh, rest for a minute.”

  Logan struggles when I try to lean him further back. Instead he leans forward. “Renee, you did nothing wrong.”

  “I-I don’t know—”

  Renee is cut off by her livid friend. “You may think you know something, but you know nothing of our suffering!” Her words are punctuated by blasts of icy air, leaving us all shivering.

  “You’re r-right.” Logan pushes to his feet. Though he staggers a bit from his injured knee, he waves me away when I try to help him. “There’s no way I could understand what you went through that night. But I do understand what Renee is feeling right now because I’ve been there.”

  Renee floats toward Logan. “What?” Her voice is soft, curious.

  Tracy laughs, a hard, grating mocking of genuine laughter. “You’re eating this crap up like a hot fudge sundae.”

  “It’s not crap, Renee,” Logan says. He closes his eyes for a few moments as though lost in thought. His nostrils flare, leaving me to wonder what horrors he’s remembering. When he opens his eyes, I see nothing but raw determination. Any trace of pain is gone. “I know what you went through, what it’s like to want to help in your mind, yet your body won’t cooperate.”

  Renee gasps. “You do know.”

  “Yes.” Logan takes a couple steps forward. “I also know that there was nothing you could have done. Running outside was the best way to get help. If you’d run back to Tracy, he would have killed you instead of the cars, but either way you’d still be dead.”

  “He’s lying!” Tracy’s form morphs, becoming darker, distorted. “You left me to die with that monster. You ran away.”

  “I’m sorry, I-I was so scared. My body took control of me, and I ran.” Renee backs away from Tracy.

  “She refused to go into the light when it appeared for her.” Logan’s voice is calm and soothing. “Tracy, she stayed for you. Instead of going into the light, she went back to the house. For you.”

  “No, she abandoned me—”

  Logan cuts Tracy off. “No, she didn’t.”

  He glances at me before patting my hand and unwinding my arm from his. His eyes are haunted, from the vision or an awful memory, I’m not sure. When I open my mouth to ask, he shakes his head. He’s right, now isn’t the time.

  “Angela?” Renee calls her in a hesitant voice.

  “I’m here, Renee.” Angela steps forward until she’s only inches from the looming spirits.

  Renee’s ethereal form morphs again, becoming lighter and more human. “I never really blamed you. You were a victim too.”

  “I brought—”

  “I know, but it’s okay. He used you in the worst way possible.” Renee reaches out a vaporous limb. “Try to forgive yourself. You don’t deserve the pain you’ve suffered.”

  Tears fill Angela’s eyes and several spill over to run down her cheeks. “Still, I’m sorry. I think about you every single day. Please move on and find peace.”

  “I will.” Her wispy hand appears to caress Angela’s cheek then fades away to nothing.

  “Is she…” I trail off, my eyes scanning the room. The air is still, as though waiting for something… but what?

  “Gone?” Tracy’s voice cuts through silence. “Yeah, she’s gone. Abandoned me again!”

  Her frustrated screams echo around us, vibrating the air and sending a blender crashing to the floor. I stare at the shattered pieces while trying to calm my racing heart. A rank stench fills the air, like rotten eggs… perhaps sulfur. It fills my nostrils, burning them. My eyes water. The floor shakes, and I lose my footing, falling against Logan. He stumbles, catching me despite his injured knee. When I glance back to make sure Daniel and Angela are okay, I’m not surprised to see them inching backward away from the maniacal shrieking.

  “Tortured, murdered, flayed, broken!” Her volume increases with each shouted word. “Then to return, only to be abandoned by the only, the only, two people who knew what I went through‌—‌what we went through.”

  Logan steps forward, pushing me behind him. “We can talk—”

  “Talk?”

  The dark gray form morphs again until it barely resembles the form of a person. Her spirit grows until it creeps along the ceiling to tower over us. As long, tenuous tendrils reach down, we scuttle backward out of the way.

  “While I suffered in life and death, Angela got to have a life to live. She caused this and didn’t suffer at all.”

  “But I did suffer—”

  “Shut your mouth, you filthy bitch!” Tracy darts over to loom over Angela. “You watched that sadistic bastard kill me and did nothing.” She pauses as her form turns inky black. “I will not rest until…” Her words turn into angry, incomprehensible screeching.

  Logan grabs my hand. “We need to get out of here… regroup.”

  Without another word, we race from the house. As we spill out, Angela trips on the striped tent, falling to the ground. Blake appears and hauls her body up and out of the way. His sudden movements still shock me at times, and of course this is one of them. I pause in the doorway, only to be thrown forward when it slams closed. After stumbling a few times, I regain my footing and follow the others away from that cursed house.

  Angela trudges from the car to her door, her shoulders slumped and her steps slow. The twin cats meow together, sorrowful, as they watch her retreating form. Daniel kisses her cheek before closing the door and heading back to the car. My eyes burn, and I bite my lip to keep the tears at bay. She thinks she failed because we couldn’t cross Tracy. No matter what anyone said about how we saved Amy and Renee, Angela only focused on her failure. Perhaps that’s why she never recovered from the madness forty years ago… because she couldn’t see past the negative to anything positive.

  To make matters worse, Samson and Delilah have chosen Logan as their new master. Poor Angela doesn’t even have the comfort of her familiars.

  When Logan takes my hand and curls his fingers around mine, I allow a few silent tears to fall. Four lives were lost that night, not three. Everyone forgets the victim who lived, who suffered years of tormented memories made worse by—

  “That’s it!” My exclamation rings through the silence in the car.

  Rebecca glances at me over her shoulder from the front seat. “Huh?”

  “Tracy thinks that Angela didn’t suffer, that she can’t understand. We need to make Tracy see what Angela’s been through.”

  Daniel sighs. “Angela is broken, Cici. We can’t involve her anymore.”

  Logan glances at me, raw pain in his eyes. “I took her pets…”

  “They’re familiars… they decide where to go.” I squeeze his hand, but the sadness remains.

  “She told me she loves dogs and has always wanted one,” Daniel says. “Let’s get her a dog.”

  Rebecca snorts. “You can’t just get a pet for someone.”

  “Of course you can.” Daniel taps a beat on the s
teering wheel. “A goldendoodle like Kodiak would be perfect.”

  “What do you two think?” Logan asks the cats swirling around our ankles. They meow in unison, a cheerful, bright sound. “I think they agree.” He turns to me with a hopeful look. “Can you find a goldendoodle? Not a puppy, but an older dog?”

  I think about my goldendoodle, Kodiak, and have to admit that a dog like that would be great for Angela. “I’ll do my best. There are lots of rescues… surely someone has a golden or labradoodle in need of a good home.”

  Daniel pulls to a stop at my house. As I open the door to get out, Samson and Delilah try to follow me.

  Logan gathers the two in his arms. “This isn’t our stop yet.”

  They mewl and settle down, watching me with wide, unblinking eyes. “I’ll have Dad or Gavin drop me at your house later for the meeting.”

  Logan nods. “Six o’clock. I’ll order pizza. Pepperoni and peppers?”

  “You know what I like.” I lean in and give him a quick kiss goodbye. “I’m in the mood for jalapenos tonight.”

  “Spicy. I like it,” Logan murmurs against my lips.

  Daniel makes a shooing motion at me, and I back away from the car. “See ya in a few.”

  I watch them drive away while my crows circle overhead. Before the neighbors can notice the odd gathering above me, I race into the house.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Premonition

  LOGAN

  Laughter shakes my body making me wince from the pain searing through my side. With a click of the remote, I turn off the TV. No more comedies until I’m healed.

  Mom wrings her hands while darting between tidying the family room and plumping the pillows behind my back. She sucks in a breath before racing to the kitchen. When she returns, she has my tarot deck in her shaking hands.

  “Premonition.” Her voice is as shaky as her hands as she places the deck on my lap. “A reading. Now.”