by D. G. Swank
Jack bolted across the short distance between us. As soon as he put his hand on my shoulder, he jerked and looked over his shoulder, probably drawn by the wailing in the black vortex.
“Oh, dear Lord. That’s…”
“Hell.” My voice broke as I finished his sentence. “I don’t know what to do.”
Edna heard my indecision and moved in front of me, her face inches from mine. Icy cold air covered my skin.
“We can make a deal, demon slayer,” she said frantically. “I’ll promise to be good.”
Jack leaned into my ear. “You can’t trust her, Piper. She tried to kill Mrs. O’Keefe and you.”
“And she may have actually killed before,” Detective Powell said from the open doorway. “Edna Cook’s two children disappeared. They were never seen again after Edna put them to bed one night. Many people suspected she killed them and that her husband killed her in revenge.”
My eyes flew wide open. “Did you kill your children?”
“They weren’t mine!” Edna’s face contorted into a look of contempt and rage. “They were Frank’s kids from his dead first wife. Those kids told me all the time how much they missed her and hated me, so I let them have her.” She stared at me in defiance.
Jack’s hand tightened on my shoulder.
I began to chant again as I wafted smoke past the open back door. “Fire, earth, air, water. Cleanse this place of negative energy.”
Detective Powell gave me a strange look and grabbed my elbow as I walked past her. She gasped when she saw the vortex in the doorway and quickly dropped her hand. “Oh my God!”
“Stay outside, Detective,” Jack said.
“No worries,” she blurted out, backing down the two steps.
I made it to the fourth wall, the vortex now only fifteen feet way.
Edna started to scream at the top of her lungs, but I tried to ignore her, focusing deeply on my own chanting and the sound of my own voice.
Jack used his free hand to grab a round wooden tray off the table, whipping off the salt and pepper shakers and sugar bowl that had rested on it, and whisked the tray up as a shield just before a glass shattered against it.
“Keep going, Piper!” he said breathlessly behind me, shielding me with the wooden tray. He stood behind me and had turned sideways. There was more shattering glass and shards went flying in front of me.
I uttered my chant one more time, then stopped in front of the vortex, turning to face Edna.
No longer did she resemble a bored mid-century housewife. Her face was so contorted with rage it had actually elongated, and her eyes were shadow-lined hollows in her head.
“I won’t let you do this!” she shrieked, holding up a butcher knife. “I will stop you.” Then she lunged for me, the knife raised.
“Piper! Do it!” Jack shouted, attempting to keep shielding us with the wooden tray which was cracking.
I sped up my chanting, growing louder, and in a fury, she advanced toward me, wielding the knife as her screams escalated into frantic, piercing shrieks. I was prepared for the blade to strike, but Jack let go of me and used the tray to smash her hand from the side. The knife flung across the room and hit the wall before falling to the floor.
“Fire, earth, air, water. Cleanse this place of Edna Cook.”
Edna roared with anger as she backed away from me. Then she grabbed a broken, jagged piece of glass off the floor and threw it at me.
“Look out!” Detective Powell cried out.
Jack lunged to the side with his tray and fell out of my peripheral vision as I continued to chant.
“It’s not working, Jack,” I said, starting to freak out.
“It is. Just keep going.” He was right. The vortex had grown larger and the dark gray smoke swirling around the perimeter had become more turbulent. The screams from within the dark hole had grown louder, and I could see streaks of lightning made of fire forking through the murky interior. Icy cold energy seeped into the marrow of my bones, filled with a sense of desperation and hopelessness.
Was I really sending her to hell?
Damn straight I was.
The vortex seemed to expand and reach into the room.
I scrambled away from it, moving in Edna’s direction as I fanned the symmetry smoke toward her with the feather. She looked like a true monster now—a melted version of what she’d been in life. “Fire, earth, air, water. Cleanse this place of Edna Cook!”
She grabbed her head and screamed, terror in her now deep-set eyes as she stared over my shoulder.
Then I noticed something dark moving in my peripheral vision. I turned to see a long, shadowy arm reaching past me. I shrieked and jumped away.
Jack grabbed my forearm. “Holy shit.”
The ten-foot arm was extending from the vortex.
Jack pulled me backward, dragging me all the way to the back door, where we watched in horror as the dark gray, semitransparent extension of hell itself reached for Edna’s neck and started dragging her into the hole.
Edna screamed and tried to break the arm’s hold on her, but it kept dragging her across the floor until she reached the vortex.
And then it all disappeared.
Chapter 14
“Did that just happen?” Detective Powell asked.
I was still too stunned and horrified to answer, but Jack gave a meek “Yeah.”
Then it struck me that she shouldn’t have been able to see any of this, and I swung back to face her, saying, “Could you see—”
That was when I registered that the left side of Jack’s face was covered in blood. “Oh my God, Jack! She hurt you!”
“The broken glass,” Detective Powell said. “It hit him in the head.”
I tossed my smudging tools into the kitchen sink and reached for his face, cupping his uninjured cheek with one hand while looking for a wound.
“There’s so much blood.” My voice broke as I started to panic.
“It’s a head wound, Piper,” he said, giving me a look of reassurance. “They always bleed a lot. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks.”
“I don’t see a cut. Where is it?”
“It’s in my hairline.” He grabbed the hand cupping his cheek and tugged. “Let’s go outside.”
Detective Powell backed out of the way so we could walk out. “The police are pulling up now.”
“You are the police,” I said to her as we walked out the back door and into the yard.
“Like I said, I’ll handle it.” She gave Jack a long look. “And you need medical attention.”
“It’s just a cut,” he said, sounding annoyed.
“Slow down,” I said. “Let me look.” I directed him toward a patio chair, then pushed him to sit down.
“You’re pretty bossy,” he teased, but I noticed a catch in his voice, letting me know he was more out of sorts than he was letting on. The thought made me feel better since I was freaking out myself.
I gently put my fingers on his head, trying to part his hair to find the gash. “I can’t see anything. There’s too much blood.”
“We should get him to the ER,” Detective Powell pressed.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Jack said, pushing my hands away.
“It is a big deal. Wait here.” I ran back in the house, stopping in my tracks when I took in the disaster. Every cabinet door was open and broken glass covered the floor. I opened two drawers before I found the dish towels. I soaked one under the kitchen faucet, snatched a dry one, and headed back outside.
Jack was now standing next to Detective Powell and a uniformed police officer who was staring in disbelief at the chair sticking out of the window. The officer’s gaze shifted to me, and he stood up taller, spreading his shoulders.
“Piper,” Detective Powell said, “I think you should get Jack to the ER right away. I’ll come to the hospital and take your statements there.”
I tried to hide my relief. “Okay.” I transferred both towels to one hand and then reached for Jack. “L
et’s go.”
“Not so fast,” the other officer said, taking a step forward. “I’ve seen you before.”
“Really?” I said. “I’ve got one of those faces.”
He shook his head. “Nope. That’s not it.”
“You can figure it out later, Officer Stedman,” Detective Powell said. “Piper needs to get Jack to the hospital.”
Jack grabbed the dry towel from my hand and pressed it to his head. “Thank you, Detective.”
“Wait,” the officer called out as I swiveled toward the gate.
I slowly turned back around. “Can I help you, officer?”
“Piper…? You’re that ghost girl, aren’t you?”
I forced a smile. “I’m not actually a ghost myself, but I do help ghosts find their way to the afterlife.” Or let the afterlife come for them, as the case may be. “Do you have a ghost that needs evicting?”
“Actually,” he said, shifting his weight to the side. “I do.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Do you believe in ghosts, officer?”
“If you’d asked me six months ago, I would have told you no. But after the Lost Colony reappeared…let’s just say there are a lot of things that are hard to explain.” His gaze held mine. “Like a garage that caught fire and mysteriously extinguished.”
“The world is full of wonders,” I said, trying to sound breezy.
“That it is.” He glanced at the house, then at Detective Powell. “Do you know what happened here?”
She hesitated. “I do, but I’m not sure everyone is ready to hear it.” She’d likely planned on cooking up an elaborate lie, but it was clear his willingness to believe in the supernatural had thrown her off her game, just as it had done for me.
He nodded. “Yeah, I get that.” His head swung to face me. “I’d like to talk to you later, Piper.”
The way he said it made it sound like he wasn’t talking about a police interview. “Sure,” I said. “Of course.”
“Take your friend to the hospital.”
I nodded, then reached for Jack’s elbow as we headed toward the back gate.
“Do we actually have an ally on the Asheville Police Department?” I asked once we reached the front yard.
“I’m pretty sure we have two.”
“Will they put what really happened in the report?” I asked, heading for the street.
“I don’t know, but I have my doubts,” he said.
“We’re taking my car,” I said, pulling him to a stop beside it, “and I want to look at your head before we go.” I gestured with the wet towel still in my hand. “Get in the passenger seat so I can get a better look.”
“Okay.”
He opened the car door and sat down, his feet still on the ground, then removed the bloody towel.
“It’s still bleeding a lot, Jack,” I said, gently parting his hair as I looked for the wound.
“That’s what head wounds do,” he said gruffly.
“How can you be so calm after what just happened?” I asked. “And how did you defend yourself after you let go of me? You couldn’t see Edna.”
“Obviously I didn’t do a very good job of it.”
“Jack.”
He turned serious. “After I let go of you, I couldn’t see the ghost, but I could see the knife.”
“And what did Detective Powell see? I know she saw something.”
“She certainly saw the objects Edna picked up—the knife, the broken glass. But we both saw everything at the end. The detective touched your back, but you were probably in too much shock to realize it.”
I stopped weaving my hands through his hair when I finally found the source of all the blood. “This looks bad.”
“It probably needs a stitch or two.”
“Uh…more like ten or fifteen. Put that towel back on because it’s still bleeding.”
“I don’t want to get blood in your car, Piper.”
“That’s the least of my worries.” I walked to the back of my car, popping the trunk open so I could put my bag away. Part of me was reluctant to lock up my daggers. It was hard not to imagine how much worse this could have gone. Edna had tried to stab me and Jack had stopped her. What if he’d stepped in the path of her weapon. What if…
I shook my head. No. Dwelling on what-ifs wouldn’t do us any good.
We were silent on the drive to the hospital, but about halfway there, Jack said, “Talk to me, Piper.”
I shifted in my seat and leaned toward the door. If I let him comfort me, I would likely fall apart, and I couldn’t afford that luxury. “What’s there to talk about?”
“There’s a hell of a lot to talk about. The only question is where to start.”
I shook my head, ignoring the burning in my eyes, and stared out the windshield.
“Okay, let’s talk about the demon. What happened after he locked you in the garage?”
I shot him a quick glance. “He could make fire, Jack. And I let him go.”
“Yes, but you said you cut off his fire-making hand.”
My heart slammed against my rib cage. “The hand!” I’d completely forgotten about it.
“Detective Powell took it.”
“What’s she going to do with it?”
“I don’t know, but I didn’t have much time to protest. I was trying to get to you.” He paused, and I could feel him staring at me, taking in my tight expression. Finally, he said, “Maybe I should drive.”
“You?” I shot him another look. “You’re bleeding to death. Maybe you should recline the seat back and lie down.”
“You’re the one who’s shaken up,” he said softly.
I pulled up to a stoplight and turned to him. “She could have killed you while you were trying to protect me, and I did nothing to help you.”
“You were doing exactly what you were supposed to be doing. Taking care of the ghost.”
A tear rolled down my cheek. “I sent her to hell, Jack.” I quickly brushed it away, guilt traveling on my misery’s coattails. “I know she was an awful person, but the sounds…and the feeling that came from that vortex. I…I can still feel something heavy clinging to my skin. It’s a horrible, horrible place and I sent her there. Forever.”
“No, she sent herself there.”
He was right, but I’d still given her a push in the right direction.
“We determine our own fate in the afterlife by the choices we make. I assure you that Edna Cook is where she belongs, but you have a good heart, Piper. I know that must have been hard.”
I didn’t see the need to respond.
“Think of all the ghosts you’ve helped. She was the only one who went to…”
“Hell,” I said. “Let’s call it like it is.”
“It could have been purgatory.”
“Do you really believe that?” I asked quietly.
He was silent for several seconds before he said, “No.”
I bit my bottom lip. “Me neither.”
I pulled into the ER parking lot and parked. When I opened my door to get out, Jack said, “I can take it from here.”
I shot him a look of disbelief. “If you think I’m leaving you, you’re crazy.”
I got out and slammed the door with more force than necessary.
Jack met me at the back of the car, and when I turned toward the ER entrance, he reached out and wrapped an arm around my back and gently tugged me to his chest.
Once I was wrapped up in his arm, I began to cry. A few sobs escaped me before I realized what I was doing and tried to pull back.
“Stop,” he said gently. “Just give yourself a moment to grieve.”
“Grieve?” I protested, trying to pull away again, but Jack must have worked out what I was planning because his arm was like a vise.
“Piper. It doesn’t matter that she was evil…sending that woman to hell hurt you and messed with your head. Give yourself a moment to acknowledge your pain.”
“You’re the one who’s bleeding.”
�
�Sometimes the deepest wounds are below the surface.”
I sank into him, realizing—again—what an amazing man Jack Owen was. Abel had run off and deserted me. Jack was the one by my side, trying to help me. To protect me. I was a fool to ignore what was literally right in front of me.
I leaned my head back and stared up into his concerned face. Jack had a three-inch gash in his scalp, and he was more concerned about my feelings than his own profusely bleeding wound.
I’d been attracted to him before—we’d both felt it—but Abel had changed that. All of my feelings for Jack had fled. Yet he was the man I needed in my life, not some mysterious demi-human who was pushing me into some preordained role. My connection to Abel was gone now, so maybe I was free to really start something with Jack.
Reaching up on my tiptoes, I placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
His arm tightened around the small of my back, pulling me closer, and his mouth parted. I pushed closer, kissing him again, and his tongue ran along my bottom lip. I felt my chest tighten—something felt…wrong—but before I could analyze it, he dropped his arm and took several steps back. The look of horror on his face was like a bucket of cold water.
But he quickly covered his shock, saying, “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
I shook my head, wondering why he’d pushed me away.
“Piper. We can’t do this.”
“Why?” I asked, becoming belligerent despite the fact that I hadn’t—much to my disappointment—felt any spark with him at all. “Because of the voice? Fuck the voice.”
A sad look washed over his face. “That’s not the only reason, and you know it.”
An icy cold tide rushed through my veins. “Because of Abel.”
“You have feelings for him, Piper, real or supernatural. I refuse to take second place. I deserve better than that.”
Shame washed through me. He was right. What had I been thinking? I’d used Jack for my own selfish need to chase Abel out of my system. No, that wasn’t entirely true. If I could choose which man I wanted to be with, Jack won hands down.
“But it’s more than that,” he said quietly. “I truly meant it when I said we shouldn’t become involved. Rooting out and destroying the demons must take precedence. If we became involved, it could complicate things.”