Happy Medium: (Intermix)

by Meg Benjamin

  “Yes, yes.” Gabrielle nodded slowly. “Yes, I understand.”

  She turned back to the four people sitting at the table. “She’s telling us she committed suicide. Her lover didn’t kill her. And . . .” Gabrielle paused for a long moment, until all eyes were fastened on her, “she still loves him.”

  The gauges jumped again and then promptly returned to zero. Gabrielle looked like she was gritting her teeth.

  “Jesus,” Ray muttered.

  Emma put her hand on his arm. “Almost over,” she whispered.

  Gabrielle sighed. “We understand, Amina.” She raised her voice, managing to inject a little tremolo. “We understand what you’re trying to tell us. Go now. Be at peace. We’ll tell your story. It’s time for you to cross over.”

  There was another long moment, and then Willis called “Cut.”

  “Someone wipe this sweat off my face!” Gabrielle snapped. “I’m going to look like an absolute pig on tape.”

  One of the votive candles fell over, then rolled across the table, dropping to the floor. The candlestick toppled after it, then the second votive.

  Gabrielle jumped to her feet. “What the hell is going on here? Who knocked that off?”

  Emma knelt quickly, grabbing the candlestick before the flame could reach the tablecloth. The crew member across the table caught the votives and set them back on the tabletop.

  The door to the kitchen slammed shut. The crew member standing next to it jumped aside in confusion.

  Gabrielle folded her arms across her chest, her lips a thin line. “That’s it,” she snarled. “That’s absolutely it. We are done here. I’ve never had such ridiculous problems before with a séance. This is absolutely the limit.” She turned to the director. “Let’s shoot that ridiculous lead-in so we can get out of this awful place. We’ll do it outside.”

  Emma started to follow her, but Gabrielle spun on her heel, snarling. “You stay here. I don’t need you. This is all your fault, Emma. You’re the one who came up with this disaster as a location in the first place, even after I told you English ghosts were no good. Now look what happened.” She turned again, marching down the hall with Willis bobbing along behind like a rowboat in the wake of an ocean liner. Ray stepped back into the parlor to let her past.

  Emma closed her eyes for a moment, her hands clenched at her sides. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

  The plumber and the woman in pink both stood near the end of the table, watching the crew a little nervously as they packed up the equipment and ignored them. “Is this all?” The woman’s voice trembled slightly.

  Emma managed to work up a final smile. “That’s all for this evening, yes. Thank you both very much. You were a big help. We’ll let you know when this episode will be broadcast here in San Antonio.”

  The plumber grimaced, nodding after Gabrielle. “Touchy, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah.” Emma sighed. “Touchy about sums it up.”

  ***

  It took the crew a long time to pack up all their equipment and clear out, and even then they left some odds and ends behind. Ray would have gone back to Rosie’s place as soon as DeVere walked out the door—and taken Emma with him—if he hadn’t needed to make sure they left the house intact or were billed for the damage. Emma sat in one of the dining room chairs, resting her head on her hand as she watched the light crew roll away the last of their equipment. The fire had finally burned down to ashes so the temperature in the room had dropped back to something approaching livable.

  Ray stepped beside her. “Long day.”

  She nodded. “Feels like a month.”

  “How are you doing?”

  She looked up at him for a moment, smiling wanly. “Compared to what?”

  “You got through it, Em.” He touched the back of his fingers to her cheek. “She pulled a lot of stunts, but you made it through.”

  “Yeah. We did.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m just wondering how much longer I can go on doing this.”

  He knelt beside her and looked into her eyes. “You probably won’t ever have to deal with anything quite this bad again. That should be a plus.” He felt a quick tickling of anxiety at the back of his neck, as if he should knock on wood when he said that.

  She nodded. “Should be. It isn’t really, though. Besides, I may not get the chance. Gabrielle may decide to fire me because she didn’t enjoy herself tonight.”

  “Would that be such a bad thing?” He stroked her hair back from her face. The humidity in the warm room was making her curls spring back to life.

  She raised her head to look at him, frowning. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s my job. I’m good at it. Or I was.”

  “You still are.” He glanced at the last crew members, who were winding up cables. “Looks like they’re pretty much done. As soon as they get out of here we can take off for Rosie’s.”

  “Right.” She blew out a breath. “Did you see the light go out and the gauges go dead? Not to mention the camera and those candles?”

  “Hard to miss them. Thanks for putting the candles out before they set the place on fire.”

  “Amina threw them. They didn’t fall off. She’s here.”

  He nodded. “I know. But at least she didn’t do anything worse than tossing stuff around.”

  “But she’s still here. We need to think about that.”

  “Why didn’t she mess with anyone when she had the chance?” He frowned. “The room was full of people. Did she suddenly get shy? All she did was the poltergeist stuff she does during the day. We know she’s capable of a lot worse at night.”

  “I noticed that. I’ve got a theory.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  The last crew member picked up a light stand and headed for the hall door.

  “She wants you,” Emma murmured.

  Ray narrowed his eyes. “She’s gone after you too.”

  “Right.” She nodded. “But I think that was just a way to get to you. She wanted to possess me so that she could have sex with you. It’s you she’s after—not me or Gabrielle or any of the other people who were here tonight. It’s you.”

  Skag’s voice echoed in his mind for a moment. They’ve been know to engage in pre-emptive strikes against your family members in order to protect themselves.

  “I was here too,” he said softly.

  “But you weren’t in the room. You were out in the hall. Maybe that made a difference.”

  The tickling of anxiety was back again, a dribbling of ice water down his backbone. He swallowed hard.

  Something moved in the corner of his vision, in the shadows near the windows, away from where the crew members had been working just a moment ago. He turned quickly. A shape formed, solidified.

  Amina stood watching them, her smile faintly mocking.

  He yanked Emma to her feet, shoving her toward the door. “Run. Now”

  “What?” She half stumbled but caught herself on the doorjamb. He grabbed her arm, pushing her through to the hall.

  Amina moved with the kind of speed he associated with yellow jackets, inches behind them. He threw himself across the threshold, pushing his body in front of Emma.

  Suddenly, Amina come to a stop on the other side of the open door. She pulled back from the jamb with its border of iron nails.

  He blinked. “She’s caught.”

  Emma held onto his arm, nodding as she tried to catch her breath. “The nails . . . work.”

  Amina regarded them both for a long moment, her face twisting into something vaguely inhuman in its rage. Then she faded slowly, her burning eyes the last thing he saw. After a moment, the candleholders flew across the room, smashing against the walls. Next the water carafe crashed to the floor. One of the séance chairs lifted a few feet in the air and then hurtled toward the door.

  He grabbed Emma’s arm, pulling he
r down the hall as he heard the sound of shattering wood. “Come on. Let’s get out of her range.”

  Emma paused in the living room, rubbing a hand up and down her arm. “She’s raging. If she could have gotten to us before we got out the door . . .”

  “She would have grabbed hold and tried to suck one of us dry,” he finished. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Did she somehow get caught in the room while I was doing the warding? Why wouldn’t she just move out before I finished?”

  “Maybe she couldn’t,” Emma said slowly.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not sure.” She slid down to the living room floor, resting her back against a bare stud. Outside he could hear the voices of the crew as they loaded the trucks in his driveway. “What changed here besides the wards going up on the doors?”

  He shrugged. “We cleaned out the storeroom. I smashed up the locket, which did nothing so far as I can tell. That’s about it, except for the filming. And judging from the tricks she played, I think she was trapped in there before the filming started.”

  Emma nodded. “I think that’s right. So how did she get in there in the first place?”

  He stared down the now empty hall. The crew members had removed the power cables, the lights, the cameras. The house looked normal again. Or as normal as it ever got, given the circumstances.

  “That’s not all we did,” he said slowly.

  “What else?”

  His jaw tightened. “We dressed the room. With stuff that had been in other parts of the house before. Unwarded parts.”

  Emma pushed herself upright. “The object. The thing she’s bound to. We must have brought it in there.”

  He nodded. “We put it in that room and then we warded the room. As long as the object was in a room that wasn’t warded, she could move around. But now she’s stuck.”

  “And now we can figure out which object it is and destroy it.”

  He closed his eyes, taking a quick mental inventory of the contents. Furniture. Pictures. Vases. He didn’t have a clue where to start. “The hell with figuring it out. We should just destroy it all. Not take any chances.”

  “That’s a possibility. There are a few rental pieces in there I’ll need to save, though. Let’s do it tomorrow.” Emma pushed herself to her feet again.

  “Definitely. There’s no way either of us is going back in that room tonight. Not the way she’s feeling right now, judging from how much stuff she’s already smashed. It may even be dicey going there in daylight since she’ll be fighting for survival.”

  Emma shook her head. “I don’t think she’s strong enough to do much except throw things during the day. If she were any stronger, she would have gone after us when we were in there earlier. That may be one of the reasons she waited until the room cleared. Maybe she was trying to keep us from finding out she’s trapped. She was probably biding her time and saving her strength until she could get you alone.”

  He grimaced. “Not fucking likely. Neither of us is going in there alone from now on.” He put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her toward the front door. “For now, let’s get out of here.”

  “Has the crew finished up?”

  He shrugged. “Far as I can tell. You know better than I do.”

  “They have a few more things to pack up, but I think they’re gone for the night. They might need to come back tomorrow.”

  Ray locked the house and ushered her to the driveway. As he opened the door of his truck for her, he felt a quick surge of exhilaration. Tomorrow they’d destroy everything that might be the magic object and they’d make a thorough job of it. The ghost was toast.

  He backed down the driveway, then headed toward Rosie’s house. With any luck she’d have some champagne hidden somewhere in the pantry. He really wanted a couple of quick glasses and then an even quicker journey upstairs.

  Emma’s cell phone trilled as they turned up Rosie’s block. She pulled it out of her purse, grimacing as she looked at the screen. “It’s Willis. The director.”

  “Groovy. Tell him you’re in the tub.”

  “He’d just tell me to grab a towel.” She clicked the connect button. “Hi, Willis, what’s up?”

  Ray turned into Rosie’s driveway and Emma went silent for a moment.

  “No,” she said slowly. “No. She didn’t say anything to me. I’m not at the house anymore—I’m headed back to my . . . room.”

  Nice save. Not that he gave a damn if people in the production company knew she was sleeping at his place.

  “What?” She sat up straighter. “She can’t get in. We locked up before we left. Call her and tell her I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

  There was another long pause as she listened, her eyes growing wide. “Where did you get one? And why on earth would you give it to Gabrielle? You know what she’s like, Willis. Why did you do this?”

  Ray’s shoulders tightened. Crap. Whatever it is. Crap.

  She rubbed a hand across her forehead, closing her eyes. “Yes, all right. I understand. I’ll do what I can.”

  He watched her toss the phone back in her purse. “Well?”

  “We have to go back,” she said dully. “We have to go back right now.”

  “To the Hampton house? Now? This has something to do with DeVere, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Gabrielle took the company car at the hotel and headed back to the house. Did you give Willis a key?”

  He shrugged. “He needed to get in and set up this morning. I didn’t figure there’d be any problem with it.”

  “He gave it to Gabrielle. So now there’s a big problem.”

  He tried very hard to care about Gabrielle DeVere. “Which is?”

  “She’s going to the house to get her things. Her candles and the water carafe. She’s going into the dining room. Now. Alone. At night.”

  Ray closed his eyes for a moment, then leaned forward to put the truck in gear. “Hang on. We’ll be there in five.”

  Chapter 23

  As Ray’s truck careened up the street toward the Hampton house, Emma tried to check for lights. Maybe they’d been supremely lucky and beaten Gabrielle to the door. She could stand sentinel on the porch. When Gabrielle showed up, she’d just calmly explain that the candleholders and water carafe had been broken while the crew was packing up. She’d offer to buy new ones. She’d be abjectly sorry.

  She’d also be fired.

  Which wasn’t such a big deal, compared to some of the other potential problems they were facing.

  “There’s a car out front,” Ray growled.

  Shit. Emma fumbled to unfasten her seatbelt.

  Ray grabbed her wrist. “Listen to me. Do not let it grab you. Whatever you do, don’t let it grab you. That’s how it catches hold to suck power.”

  “But Gabrielle . . .”

  “Fuck Gabrielle,” he said through gritted teeth. “Promise me, Emma. Promise me you won’t let it grab you.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She jumped down from the truck and ran to the front door, with Ray close behind her.

  It was unlocked. Emma slowed as she reached the hall, walking swiftly but carefully toward the dining room entrance. She heard voices, or rather just one voice—Gabrielle’s. She was berating someone, her anger echoing down the hallway.

  Emma came to a stop just outside the dining room doorway. Gabrielle stood in the center of the room, facing someone, a woman. A woman dressed in a drab-looking navy suit with black heels that weren’t high enough to be sexy or low enough to be comfortable.

  Very familiar black heels. Very familiar navy suit. Emma exhaled a shuddering breath. Gabrielle was yelling at Emma’s doppelgänger.

  “This is all your fault,” she shouted. “You’re the one who found this place and insisted on using it even after I told you it had too many problems. Now the show’s going to be a disaster. And
now my things are broken. I’m warning you Emma, this is all going to come out of your paycheck.”

  Emma started through the doorway as Ray stepped up behind her, grasping her wrist. She managed to pull free from his hand, hurrying forward. My problem, my boss, my double.

  The fake Emma took a step nearer to Gabrielle. The real Emma got a look at her face—she was chewing her lip in phony contrition, her blue eyes wide. She lifted a hand toward Gabrielle’s frizzled curls.

  Emma moved closer. “Gabrielle.”

  The succubus narrowed her eyes, her lips spreading upward in predatory smile.

  Gabrielle turned toward her, her mouth dropping open in confusion. “What? Who are you? What is this? What’s going on here?”

  Emma moved carefully around the succubus, keeping the exits in view. “Come with me, Gabrielle. Now.” She heard Ray’s steps behind her.

  The succubus moved back from Gabrielle, slightly closer to Emma.

  Gabrielle narrowed her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Not until someone tells me what’s going on. Is this your twin sister or something? How long has she been doubling for you?”

  The succubus smiled more broadly. Her teeth suddenly looked sharper, more lethal.

  “Gabrielle, come outside with me. Now.” Emma worked on keeping the desperation out of her voice. “I promise I’ll explain everything.” She wasn’t sure where Ray was. She couldn’t take her eyes away from Gabrielle and the fake Emma.

  The succubus moved toward Gabrielle again, but her gaze stayed fixed on Emma. She raised a hand, reaching toward her, smiling again with those sharp, sharp teeth.

  Gabrielle frowned in confusion, stepping back slightly from the anti-Emma in front of her. “I said I’m not going anywhere without an explanation.” Her voice had a faint quaver of uncertainty.

  “Get away from her.” Ray’s voice seemed to cut through the room like a knife. “You want me, right? Not her. So come and get me. Leave the others alone. Come on, you bitch. Try me.”

  He strode to the center of the room, head up, brown eyes burning. Emma thought he’d never looked more beautiful than he did at that moment. On the other hand, he was clearly nuts. “Ray, no!”