Phantom Mischief

by Jennifer LaRose

  Shanna sat closer to get a better view of the stunning woman who was seated on a high-backed chair. Long red locks curled past her breasts to her waist. She was dressed in a white lacy gown and an angelic aura surrounded her dainty features. “Oh Niall, she was beautiful.”

  “More beautiful on the inside, if you can believe it.”

  As silly as it appeared, a twinge of envy tripped Shanna’s heart.

  The third picture contained Niall, Bridget and a young, handsome male, all standing on the stairs to Tullamore’s main entrance.

  “That’s Rory, Abigail’s brother. He’s the one who sought justice for her murder.”

  If someone harmed her sister she’d probably seek justice as well. “You can’t blame him.” She slid her hand to Niall’s knee. “You didn’t know Bridget was in love with you?”

  “No.”

  “Hand me the music box, please. I’d like to see that photo of her again.”

  After Niall placed it in her hands she opened the lid. As the Victorian lady began to dance, Shanna glanced at the picture. Bridget Chichester certainly had an eeriness buried in her eyes. But Niall looked exactly as he did back then. And as he reached inside the box his gaze grazed Shanna’s face.

  Carefully he removed the paper, which lay on the bottom, and unfolded it in his lap. “This is a letter signed by Sir Henry.”

  Her ears opened at attention. “What does it say?”

  His eyes scoured the page before he started reading it aloud.

  “Forgive me, my darling, for creating such an evil child with my seed. I fear the love which nurtured this babe within your womb was for naught. My own denial has caused this creature to thrive on the harm she’s bestowed upon you and others.

  I can only surmise my love and devotion to you has filled her with so much hatred. Had I believed your prior accusations, I could have stopped her, for even in her death, her spirit returns to harm you. For that slight, I will never exonerate myself.

  I know what I nearly lost during the lift accident that day, and I can only hope Niall Brogan will forgive me of those transgressions as well, for he had lost the most. For that, I must indebt myself to him from this day forward to right that wrong.

  My love for you will carry me through.

  Forever yours ’til the day I expire. Henry.”

  Shanna squeezed Niall’s thigh while staring at the letter. “My gosh, his guilt is dripping from the paper.”

  “As it should. He’d turned Bridget into a monster by sheltering her with his love. What type of daughter is so envious of her own mum that she’d want to physically harm her?” He set the letter back inside the music box, picked up another from the bed and began reading.

  “I write this with much regret. What I once thought a good deed is now causing lunacy in my head. I cannot accept Niall being entombed and hidden inside the cold dungeon walls while I imbibe in the warmth of this smoldering fire. The guilt is eating away at my brain, but I cannot defy the witch’s spell by removing his body.”

  Holy shit! Shanna’s blood turned to ice. Entombed and hidden in the dungeon? Spell? “Jesus, Niall, this isn’t right. I think the man was as crazy as his daughter.”

  Niall laid the note down and ran a hand through his hair. “If the letter holds true, it appears he’s leading us to my body, Shanna.”

  Her eyes bulged. What was she supposed to do with it? Drag it out back and bury it? As much trouble as she had understanding this entire situation, she’d prefer to see Niall in spirit form rather than a corpse. Oh hell. She sure hoped he was wrong about this.

  She stood and opened her mouth to speak but she snapped it shut and sat back down when he retrieved another small piece of paper.

  “Oh, I pray to ye, Lord. Niall lost his beloved at the hands of my daughter Bridget, and I, coward that I am, abused my status of wealth and prosperity to prevent justice from being served. She walks free while an innocent woman is laid to rest. I am a man of great shame, that I am.”

  Niall crumpled the note in his fist. “The bastard knew the entire time that his daughter murdered Abigail, yet he let her get away with it. He is a fucking coward.”

  It was best Shanna kept her mouth shut because, in essence, she was beginning to feel sorry for Sir Henry for dealing with such an exorbitant amount of remorse. “What’s the next one say?”

  “Sweet, sweet, Mary o’ mine, I have called upon the witches to cast a blessing upon Niall Brogan. Pray they will not blunder.”

  Yeah, the man had gone crazy. Riddled with a ton of guilt perhaps, but crazy. “Niall, was there even such a thing as witches at Tullamore?”

  He nodded. “The Mac au Bhaird family. They lived in the area and had been known to help people in positive, unimaginable ways with their extraordinary gifts. But not all their deeds were good. Many evil curses had been cast at their hands.”

  “Do you believe in all that witchcraft?”

  “I’ve seen it.”

  She removed the paper from his hand. “What type of spell do you think they cast upon you?” she asked, reaching over his lap to fetch another.

  “I would guess an evil one that’d fated me to Tullamore.”

  She shrugged. “I guess anything is possible. A week ago I’d never thought I’d be sitting on a bed reading letters with a ghost. You see where I’m at now, don’t ya?”

  Grinning, he rubbed his thumb along her lips then unfolded the next letter.

  “I watched the sword detach the avenging poor boy’s head from his body with one clean sweep. Blood poured from his listless corpse, staining the earth. He should not have died in vain for Bridget’s death, for she deserved the brutal hanging. This is yet another regret.”

  Allowing Bridget to escape murder charges proved Henry’s weakness, but to watch the beheading of an innocent man was detestable. Niall was right, Sir Henry Chichester was a coward. “How morbid. I don’t think I want to hear any more.” She jumped up, gripping the back side of her neck. What a disturbing confession. And it bothered her more now than when Niall previously explained what’d happened to Rory.

  “Sit down, love, there are only three left. We may as well finish them.”

  She could tolerate three more. She could. If they were as unsettling, she’d just block her ears.

  The instant she sat and crossed her legs on the bed, he read on.

  “I have not witnessed evidence of Niall’s spirit, therefore, I cannot rely on the witch’s spell. I will remain impatiently waiting, for when the woman of his dreams crosses his path, I will know, for she will revel in his touch as he will in hers. He will manifest as an earthly man and burn with desire.”

  “Don’t stop, Niall. Hurry and read the next one, please, so we can get this over with.”

  “Even in death I vow to unite true love with the noble man who died in place of my Mary. When the power of his love is restored with another lass I will guide him to his body where he will regain mortality. Only then will I be released to the hereafter to find peace. Witches, I beg you, do not let the spell fail.”

  That couldn’t have possibly said what she thought it said. Her gaze shot to Niall’s eyes. “Did you—” she snapped her mouth shut and batted her lashes. “Read that again, but slower.”

  As he repeated the letter word for word, her pulse started racing. “He had the witches place a spell on you so you could become human,” she said in exasperation. “Niall, if this isn’t a joke, do you know what that means?” She practically threw herself behind his back to grab the final paper. Instead of handing it to him, she straightened it on her lap and read it herself.

  “Mary, my sweet, sweet wife, his body has been preserved and entombed this morn. Glory be the day he awakes a corporeal man.”

  After briefly skimming the page a second time, she held it close to her heart. “Niall, he honestly felt so guilty about Bridget killing you, he devoted himself to helping you rediscover life? I mean witches and spells and…and guiding you to your body. And these letters.” She peeled it awa
y from her chest. “We wouldn’t have found these if he hadn’t led us to the attic.” She scrambled to her feet and paced back and forth in front of the bed. “I thought he wanted to scare me, but he was earnestly trying to help you.”

  “Well, love,” Niall said, taking a stance. “There’s only one thing to do.”

  She halted and gazed into his hopeful eyes. “Take a walk to the dungeon?”

  He grinned sheepishly and nodded.

  “Before we go I’d like to ask you something.”

  “I’m listening, love.”

  “If you make love when you’re invisible, does it drain your energy as well?”

  “No. I’m invincible when I’m not manifested.”

  “So, if we make love, you can reappear right afterward?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then disappear and come here.”

  “Ah, Shanna, there will be time for that when we return.”

  What if they didn’t come back? What if this entire situation was a death trap? Sir Henry sounded remorseful, but how could she trust a dead man? Especially a dead man she never knew.

  Seriously, this had become a complicated nightmare, but if she didn’t get moving she’d be too scared to go. And poor Niall seemed too excited to stall much longer. Henry had better not be messing with them. If this was a joke she’d wrap her hands around his hazy throat and kill him again. Really? Kill a dead man. She’d officially lost it. “Then let’s go. Time is wasting. But remember, if there are people around, don’t touch or talk to me.”

  He chuckled.

  That request hadn’t worked so well. Although it was her brainy idea, the urge to touch him battered her common sense to a pulp and she grabbed the flashlight then wrapped her arms around his elbow before they left the room.

  Riding the modern lift was much more comfortable than the old lift, and never again would she climb aboard that rickety machine. Stopping halfway to their destination and stranding them between floors? What the heck was that about?

  After they exited and walked down the steps toward The Cave, she glanced around the area, making sure no one was present. “Do you know the way to the dungeon, Niall?”

  “Yes, love. It’s accessible by stairs only.”

  She halted. “Is it really spooky?”

  He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Not to me.”

  Voices and loud music blared from inside the bar. She released her grip on Niall’s arm and scurried past the entrance.

  The corridor dead-ended into a brick wall. On the left a flight of concrete stairs led underground. Electrical wall lanterns like those in the library offered dim traces of lighting. She swallowed, grabbed Niall’s hand and began to carefully descend the long, narrow steps. They spiraled downward with only a thin iron handrail to cling on to. She’d made a good choice by wearing slippers instead of her stilettos because her knees were weak and shaking.

  The lower they descended the damper and thicker the air grew. It didn’t smell musty or like mildew as she’d expected but it was uncomfortably chilled. When they’d finally reached solid ground, Niall tucked her under his arm close to his rib cage. “One more flight to go, love.”

  Ugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. Those sixty steps weren’t enough?”

  “They’re right up here.” He led her to the right, down a short, curved passage that reminded her of a tunnel. It dead-ended into a corridor stretching north to south.

  Well, it appeared that way from the direction they stood, but she was totally discombobulated so it might have been west to east. Not that it mattered. A red rug covered the floor to the left that ended just short of a large desk, whereas nothing but gray, cold stones led to darkness on the right side.

  “This way, love.”

  It figured. He’d pointed to the dark end. “I’d rather go that way.”

  “Believe me, you don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Trust me.”

  As he led her down the dreary hall, her booties scuffling along the uneven ground, she heard voices echoing at their backs. Ghosts! Oh no. Her eyes widened and her gaze hit the floor. It appeared she was trespassing through their space and she wanted out of there now.

  Saying a few Hail Marys under her breath, she threw her arm around Niall’s back and sped up their pace.

  She gulped and glanced over her shoulder. A voluptuous woman wearing some type of gothic clothing was standing along the outer edge of the desk, talking to another woman dressed in trousers and a sweater. Shanna couldn’t mistake the auburn hair and petite frame. Sighing in relief, she inhaled a mouthful of air and slowed her footsteps to nearly a stop. “Look, Niall. There’s Katie.”

  “And I bet she has no idea where she is,” he stated, nudging Shanna forward.

  “Why do you say that? What’s back there?”

  “Playrooms.”

  “They allow children down here?” That was a whole lot disturbing. The place scared the bejeebers out of her. She couldn’t imagine how a child would feel.

  Niall chuckled. The deep pitch bounced off the concrete walls. “They’re adult playrooms, love.”

  She dug her booties into the floor and stopped as heat flooded her cheeks. “Are you serious?”

  He grinned and the gold flecks in his eyes sparkled. He appeared so damn mischievous at that moment it stunned her heart.

  Wow, a flash of intrigue caused flutters in her belly. “Can we go see?”

  “Maybe on the way back,” he said, nudging her forward again. “When we have a little more time to observe.”

  “They let you watch?” she squeaked in excitement.

  “Yes. Or you can participate if you so desire.”

  Participate? She didn’t know if she was ready for that. She’d heard a lot about the play, but to actually try it—hmmm.

  And, dang it, it was the only thing traipsing through her mind while Niall led her down another chilly, gloomy flight of stairs. But she barely felt the cold, for the visuals rocking her world had her heart palpitating at a speedy rate and her blood burning. The yearning she felt for Niall earlier was in no comparison to the ferocious way she wanted him now.

  But all hunger came to an abrupt halt when they stood facing a huge wooden door with large, rusty hinges and a scrolled handle. Her jaw dropped. And suddenly she felt as if her life was about to change.

  Niall set Shanna aside and struggled to pull the door open. It appeared something on the opposite side fought to keep it closed. But he’d come this far and he was not backing off now. If Sir Henry told the truth, Niall’s new beginning lay somewhere within those walls.

  The concept lent him strength and he yanked the door with so much conviction it broke off the top hinge and the bottom corner banged into the ground. A gust of cold air rushed forward as if he’d freed tortured souls.

  He glanced over his shoulder at Shanna. She stood rubbing her arms and her breaths turned to vapors. “Are you okay, love?”

  Her teeth chattered when she nodded.

  “Come,” he said, extending his hand.

  As her palm slid against his, he squeezed it and walked inside the enclosure. It was much lighter than the other sections of the dungeon, illuminated by a blue haze as if they’d walked into a chamber of ice. It appeared as if natural lighting cascaded inside, but that was impossible since they were many feet below ground level. He flicked on the flashlight as backup.

  Numerous wax candles lay on the ground. From what he could see, most of the wicks were blackened but others hadn’t even been lit. He’d never been in this area and could only imagine what Shanna felt about the concrete tomb. It’d obviously been used as a torture chamber. Shackles hung along the walls, attached to thick, heavy chains. A rope dangled from the ceiling and was fused through some type of pulley system. Beside that lay a heavy weight in the shape of a bell.

  The agonizing pain the victims endured set a strong ambiance. Fear still lingered in the air. He looked at Shanna, wondering if she felt it too, but she was biting
on her bottom lip while intently assessing the surroundings.

  In the far corner sat a guillotine and adjacent to that a Judas Cradle with additional ropes bolted to the walls. To actually see the torture equipment put history into perspective and it was an eerie sight for even him to digest. He could actually perceive cries for mercy as people were lowered on to the point.

  Shanna released his hand and walked deeper into the chamber where she stopped near a pile of soot in the center. She gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Niall, there’re bones in here.”

  He shined the light on the ashes. “I’m sure.” Whether they belonged to humans or rats, there’d possibly be many lying around, and not just in the burn pile. “Don’t wander too far, love.” She may not appreciate what she might find.

  No sooner had she nodded and backed up than the concrete blocks caved in around her feet. Her high-pitched screams shot off the walls as she dropped through the floor. Dust and cold vapors rose in a cloud and surrounded the hole.

  Oh fuck! Fuck! For the love of God! “Shanna!” Niall dashed across the room and fell to his knees. He flashed the beam of light into the hole but couldn’t see beyond the dust. When it cleared seconds later, he spotted her lying on her back nearly four feet below the surface.

  “Shanna?”

  She groaned and slightly moved her legs.

  “Are you all right? Can you hear me?” He didn’t wait for a response and floated inside the hole. The entire underneath was hollow and stretched farther than he could see. He squatted and ran his hand along her cheek. “Talk to me, Shanna.”

  Again she groaned and her eyes fluttered open. “I’m okay.”

  “Any broken bones?”

  “I don’t think so.” She latched on to his arm and cautiously pulled herself into a sitting position. “It scared me more than anything.”

  He embraced her, squeezing her to his chest, and closed his eyes. Inch by inch she relaxed then she fell completely limp in his arms.

  “Niall? L-look behind you,” she stammered, her voice trembling.