Whispering Hearts

by Cassandra Chandler

  Shit! He did not know this part of the plan. His stomach churned. He stopped himself from trying to staunch the blood that ran down her arm and dripped onto the floor.

  Michael smiled. “Perhaps I don’t have as much to teach you as I thought. But save some fun for me.”

  She let Michael pull her closer to the mirror. Garrett’s instinct screamed at him to keep her away, to run, but he had to trust her—that she knew what she was doing.

  When she was within reach, she slammed her hand onto the mirror, pushing most of Michael back into the glass. His features became translucent again, superimposed over Finn’s.

  Garrett could see that Finn’s eyes were closed, his eyebrows scrunched together. He was fighting Michael’s control.

  “Using blood…” Michael said. “You surprise me, my love. We’re an even better match than I thought.”

  Rachel was gulping air. The mirror glowed where her hand touched it.

  “Come to me,” Michael said. He still had his grip tight on her arm. “Come to me and I may spare you one of your friends. You may choose. Any but the good doctor. He must die, of course, for tasting your forbidden fruit. But Elsa perhaps? That dear lovable butler of hers? The cat? Your—”

  Whatever he was about to say, they didn’t hear it. His face contorted in agony, mouth a wide “o” with all those teeth showing. Finally, he let go of Rachel’s arm, his image retreating fully into the mirror.

  Finn cried out, then his reflection vanished.

  Garrett’s breath rushed out of him in a sob. What had happened to Finn? Was he okay? Was he…

  Rachel made a straight line down the center of the mirror—a streak of red that bisected it—then stepped back, pushing against Garrett hard enough that he staggered. He struggled to keep his hold on her.

  She didn’t lose her balance. Feet planted, she glared at Michael in the mirror.

  Michael glanced around as if he was searching for something—like maybe a way out. From how Rachel was laughing, Garrett didn’t think he’d find any.

  Garrett kept his hands on her shoulders as she approached the mirror again, matching his stride with hers. When Rachel spoke, her voice was eerily calm and filled with confidence.

  “Ladies, find your peace,” she said. “You are free.”

  Rachel ran her finger through the blood on her arm and then traced what looked like a large “M” on one side of the mirror’s surface and a blocky “R” on the other.

  The gray fog in the mirror began to move, forming a whirlpool. Garrett felt it pull at something deep in his gut, like his energy was trying to move toward the mirror. He felt it bump into Rachel, then settle back into him.

  What the fuck…

  But the dark forms in the mirror didn’t have anything to block them. Some seemed to fight the current, while others swam with it. They all flowed into the center of that spiraling vortex, wherever it went.

  Michael started to turn, but Rachel snapped, “Not you.”

  She smeared the “M” and “R” with the heel of her palm. The swirling stopped. Only Michael and the gray fog remained before them.

  The mirror changed again, the room around them coming back into focus as the fog dissipated. Garrett still couldn’t see their reflection, though. Only Michael’s, as if his spectral form stood in the room instead of them.

  Rachel ran her fingertip through the blood on her arm again. Her face angled enough so that Garrett could see that she was smiling. It was not a kind smile.

  She traced over the line bisecting the mirror. Michael’s pallor intensified and he started to shimmer as if shivering. Mist rose from him, like breath on a freezing day.

  “You won’t be hurting anyone ever again,” Rachel whispered.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Garrett, please hand me the trash can.”

  She pointed toward the toilet without looking. Her eyes were locked on Michael’s in the mirror. If she looked away, she wasn’t sure what would happen. She was scared to even blink now that she finally had Michael where she wanted him.

  In her periphery, she saw Garrett pick up the heavy metal bin and set it on the counter. He didn’t let go of it.

  “Is he trapped in the mirror?”

  “For now.” For about the next thirty seconds—the last of his existence on any plane.

  “Are Finn and Jazz okay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Shouldn’t we find out before we do anything else?”

  She had to blink—she couldn’t stop herself. Michael stayed in the mirror. She let out a breath of relief. At least she didn’t have that to worry about. But she could feel him trying to slip out of the mirror, trying to get away.

  “I don’t know how long I can hold him. We can’t risk him getting away.”

  Garrett’s voice was quiet when he said, “What are you going to do?”

  She didn’t want to say. But she had to.

  “I’m going to end him. Eternally.”

  “You freed the spirits of his victims. Can’t you just—”

  “I don’t know where those other spirits went. I don’t know what’s on the other side. What if it’s a revolving door and spirits are instantly reincarnated? What if he retains his memories, his personality?”

  Michael smirked. “So many what ifs deciding my fate. I only have one question. What gives you the right to decide whether I cease to exist?”

  That question could plague her for the rest of her days. But it wouldn’t.

  “When you chained me in your garage, you kept saying that you were God. That you decided when and how I would die.”

  “And now, you do the same to me.” He made a clucking noise. “Love, we are so much more alike than I ever guessed. I truly found my match in you.”

  “Met your match. Not found. I am the one who will end you.”

  “You would really utterly destroy me? All I wanted was to immortalize those women.”

  “You wanted to control them.”

  “So now you control me. Does it feel good to hold my fate in your hands?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It isn’t in my hands.”

  For the first time, Michael looked uncertain.

  “When I opened the gateway, it pulled in the other spirits,” she said. “I felt it. Felt Garrett being affected too. But not you.”

  Michael’s frown turned to a grimace, his lips pulling up from his teeth.

  “I thought so.” Rachel nodded. “You didn’t have any trouble staying right where you were. I thought it was the rune at first. Isa—ice—holding you in place. But what I felt was warmth.”

  She smiled as she remembered it. Comforting energy. Restfulness and home. She hoped kindness was waiting for the spirits she had sent to the other side—a place where they could heal and rest. Maybe Hiram would be there to greet them—to help them on their journey, like he had helped Rachel.

  “I felt it,” she said. Something had guided her, something beyond her intuition.

  “Not your hand but the hand of Fate? Is that how you’ll absolve yourself of guilt?”

  “This is my choice. Whatever that force was, I choose to help it.”

  She was finished sitting on the sidelines. She reached for the trash can and rested her hand on its lip. Garrett was right behind her. He hadn’t said anything, but she felt the turmoil in him.

  Softly she said, “You don’t have to stay.”

  “No, he doesn’t.” Michael sneered. “But he will. He’ll stay with you through the long years, thinking of how the woman sharing his bed and bearing his children was capable of destroying a soul. The most precious part of our existence. That you felt you had the right to decide not just between my life or death but my very existence.”

  Rachel’s heart picked up. She knew it was a risk. Garrett was a doctor. Sworn to help people. Wh
at she was about to do… Even with what she had sensed from the vortex, the calm encouragement that this was the right thing, she knew she would wonder what Garrett thought of her after it was done.

  “The doubt on his face is beautiful,” Michael said. “The anger and the pain. And you are the one putting it there, Rachel. It’s your masterpiece.”

  She gripped the trash can, but Garrett wouldn’t let go.

  “Garrett, please trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I know,” he whispered.

  Michael spat out, “That won’t change anything. He’ll never truly trust you after this, after seeing what you’re capable of. You aren’t the one who gets to decide when I’m done!”

  “No,” Garrett said. “I am.”

  He pulled her tight against his chest as he lifted the trash can out of her grasp, then smashed it into the mirror.

  Rachel saw the look of disbelief and fear on Michael’s features just before it hit.

  Lightning fast, cracks spread over the mirror’s entire surface. They seemed suspended in place for a brief second—as Michael’s ghostly form exploded into mist, dissipating almost instantly.

  Then the pieces of the mirror fell. Her ears rang from the sound of them striking the counter. Garrett tightened his grip on her. She could feel his heart beating against her back.

  They stared at the fragments for a few moments before Garrett asked, “Is it over?”

  She nodded. “Yes. He’s gone.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Garrett’s heart was beating so hard it was painful. He had never been more scared. Life and death decisions he was used to. Immortal souls? Shit, that was outside of his depth.

  All he had been sure of the entire time was one guiding truth—he trusted Rachel. And he could feel how certain she was, even with the pain of what they had to do.

  He dropped the trash can and spun her around, pulling her into a crushing hug. He buried his face in her hair and kissed her neck.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “We’re okay.”

  Not entirely. Her arm was bleeding where she’d dug into her cut. His stomach churned at the memory.

  He pulled her with him as he took a few short steps to the shelf and grabbed the First-Aid kit. His hands were shaking so bad she had to open it for him.

  A cursory glance at the wound told him it still probably didn’t need stitches. It might leave a scar, though. Another one from that bastard.

  She set the kit on the back of the toilet and took out an alcohol wipe. Without pausing, she opened it and started on her arm.

  “I can do that,” Garrett said.

  “I thought you weren’t allowed to treat me.” She grinned up at him.

  How could she already be smiling? She wasn’t even wincing while she cleaned up her wound.

  She threw the bloody wipe into the bathtub and said, “I could use some help with the bandage, though.”

  Garrett cleared his throat. “I can do that.”

  Now that her cut was cleaned up, it wasn’t as bad as he had feared. He let go of her long enough to open the bandage and put it in place.

  She put her hand above his heart. “I really am okay. Are you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said. “I would have taken care of it.”

  “I wanted you to know that I understood. That I believed you. From what you told me about demons, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was heading down the road to becoming one. And that guy with even more power… It’s something the Universe doesn’t need.”

  “I can’t believe how much faith you have in me.”

  “I can. And I also…” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Elsa told me she felt that she was being guided to save Dante. She knew she could pull him from his time and bring him here. What you said reminded me of that. The way you trusted your power and listened to your intuition.” He shook his head. “If something’s out there, some force that wants to help good people and stop bad… Well, I’m in.”

  “I hope you’re right. It would be nice to know we aren’t alone in this.”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you—you’re not alone. None of us are. Not while we have each other.”

  Rachel’s phone started to ring in the other room.

  “We should get that,” she said.

  “What about…” Garrett looked at the shards of glass coating the bathroom counter.

  “We’ll take care of that later. It’s only broken glass now. But I’m thinking we should bury it in a salt-lined hole. Just in case.”

  “Maybe add some cement.”

  “You’re thinking too corporeally,” she said. “Come on.”

  She led him to the guest room, carefully stepping over the remains of her witch’s ball. Sunlight was streaming in through the broken window, catching and reflecting on the broken glass along the wall below. Picking up her phone from the bed, Rachel hit the speaker button.

  Before they could say any kind of greeting, Jazz screamed, “Are you guys okay?”

  Garrett’s heart picked up again. Finn had been the closest thing to a brother Garrett had since Dylan. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. Not to Michael.

  “We’re fine,” Rachel said, squeezing Garrett’s hand tight. “What about you two?”

  “We’re okay.”

  Garrett blew out a huge breath. His eyes burned and he felt tears on his cheeks—and he did not give a damn. His body was shaking with relief. Rachel wrapped one arm around his waist, holding the phone closer.

  “Finn, you SOB,” Garrett said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffing. “What the hell did you get my friend Jazz mixed up in?”

  “Are you crying?” Finn’s mocking voice came over the line—the best sound Garrett had heard all day.

  “Shut up,” Garrett said.

  “Oh, I am never going to shut up about this.”

  Garrett laughed. He hoped so. He wanted Finn to give him a hard time about it for decades—for the rest of their lives, laughing and joking and poking fun at each other as usual.

  “Ugh, bromance,” Jazz said.

  “I think it’s adorable.” Rachel laughed and squeezed Garrett’s waist.

  There was a silence on the line that made Garrett uncomfortable. “Finn, you okay?”

  “Yeah, man. Yeah.” But his voice was a little more serious than Garrett was used to. Gravely.

  “Wait a minute,” Garrett said. “Now are you crying?”

  “You’ll never prove anything.”

  Jazz laughed. “Don’t worry, Garrett. I’ll get some pictures.”

  The next sound to come out of the phone sounded suspiciously like kissing. Which seemed like a really good idea to Garrett. He kissed the top of Rachel’s head. There would be time for more later.

  “Look, we’ve got a mess to clean up here,” Jazz said.

  Garrett laughed. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing.”

  “Ours is going to take a while. We need to call the Clearview police—”

  Finn broke in. “Already texted them. They’re on the way.”

  “When did you text them?”

  Jazz sounded supremely annoyed for some reason, and Finn instantly went on the defensive.

  “As soon as you called Rachel!”

  Garrett loved hearing Finn exasperated. It meant Garrett was right about the pair. Double-dates were in their future. He was sure of it.

  “I didn’t want them to check our phone records and see that we called our friends before them when—”

  “Enough!” Jazz cut him off. Garrett could imagine her waving one hand in the air dismissively. “We can explain all that later. Bottom line is, you two need to call Elsa and Dante and give them the all-clear. We are all clear, right?”

  “Y
es,” Rachel said. “Michael is gone—for good this time.”

  “Thank you.” Finn’s voice had that somber cast again. Unnerving.

  Garrett was used to his friend being worked up about cases or laughing about… Anything, really. This was a new side, brought out by whatever he’d gone through. Another scar for his friends, courtesy of Michael.

  Yeah, Garrett wouldn’t be losing sleep over ending Michael any time soon.

  “We couldn’t have done it without you,” Rachel said. “We make a good team.”

  She looked confused for a moment, staring intently at the phone as if she was trying to see something. But then she shrugged and laughed.

  “I’ll text you after I call Elsa to let you know they’re okay,” Rachel said. “But I’m sure they are. We let them know what they needed to do to protect themselves and it sounds like we were all keeping Michael pretty busy.”

  A loud whirring noise sounded in the background.

  “Okay,” Jazz said. “The cops are pulling up.”

  “Is that an airboat?” Garrett asked. How deep in the swamp were they?

  “Yeah. We better go. But we’re headed your way as soon as we’re done. And I’m bringing guests, so clean up.”

  “Guests?” Rachel emphasized the s at the end.

  “Deal with… I know you can handle it,” she said, then ended the call.

  Garrett looked down at Rachel. One eyebrow was arced on her forehead. She shrugged.

  “I’ll call Elsa,” Rachel said.

  “One thing I need to do first.” Garrett pulled her against his chest and kissed her. He meant it to be quick, but once he had her taste, he was lost.

  Her mouth was so warm, her arms strong around his neck, pulling herself up to kiss him back. She lifted her thigh, sliding it along his leg.

  Breaking off the kiss, he said, “Make the call fast and send that text.”

  “We still have a bunch of cleanup to do.”

  “Can it wait a few minutes?”

  Rachel cast him a wicked grin. “I think we can make the time.”

  She dialed Elsa’s number and hit the speaker button. Elsa seemed to answer before the ringing even stopped.