Whispering Graves (Banshee Book 2)

by Sara Clancy

  “How is it that you have never been haunted before?” she asked as she caught the ball again. “Honestly, you’re a banshee. You literally see death. I would have thought you’d be ghost-bait.”

  “Thanks for that image. That’s just buddies right there,” Benton snipped.

  She let the ball pass between them a few times before she tried to approach the conversation again.

  “Maybe you’re getting stronger.” she suggested.

  “I have been eating my vegetables.”

  “I’m serious,” she said. “You told me that you had never screamed like that before. You know … your banshee wail.”

  “Yeah, well, I had never been cornered by a serial-killer demon before.”

  “Well, what if the scream wasn’t an adrenaline rush kind of situation, but a natural next step?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Not many multi-celled organisms only have two stages of development, so there has to be other steps as well, right? I’m still looking, but I can’t find anything on banshee puberty.”

  “Banshee puberty?” he said with a note of annoyance.

  “You have a better name for it? I’m willing to use your terminology but, until you drop a name, I’m calling it ‘banshee puberty.’ And the point is, this might be a normal stage of your development. You get hair where there wasn’t hair before, your voice deepens, and now you see ghosts.”

  “I’m getting really uncomfortable having this conversation with you.”

  “Nonsense. It’s all the natural wonders of your growing body.”

  “Stop.”

  “I’m still trying to find out why you’re not a girl. That sounds a bit discriminatory. What I mean is that I can’t find one mention of another male banshee. Even according to legends, you don’t exist. Unless it’s like what I’ve heard some fish can do, and you’ll grow into a female later on when it’s time for breeding.”

  Benton thumped the ball in the mitt and hurled it again. It deliberately went wide and bounced its way into the darkness.

  “You better find that before it goes off,” he remarked, his voice adopting that soft lilt it always got when he was embarrassed and annoyed at the same time.

  Nicole rolled her eyes. Benton had a petty streak a mile wide, but she enjoyed dealing with it a lot more than him being scared. So she flung her arms out, just so he would see the movement, and jogged after the still flashing light. The grass grew higher every few feet, but the ball never seemed to get any closer.

  “How hard did you throw it?” Nicole muttered under her breath as she picked up her pace.

  She couldn’t remember how long the timer sensor ran for, but it was going to be impossible to find it in the darkness and grass if it ran out. As if on cue, the flashing beacon staggered and died, leaving her eyes to adjust to the impenetrable wall of the night. She was still drawing in her breath to heave the large sigh this situation deserved when the flashing suddenly continued.

  “Were you double timed?”

  She had the sanity to know that the ball wasn’t going to reply, but it didn’t stop her from asking. At a slower pace, she edged towards the ball, but it still never got any closer. It took a moment for her brain to work through her growing anxiety and remind her that she was currently on a hill.

  “Great, it found a slope,” Nicole mumbled and broke into a jog again, hurrying to catch it until she was forced to run down the entire hillside.

  A few more feet and the niggling feeling in the back of her brain returned. She couldn’t place why but it continued to grow, transforming into a flutter in the pit of her gut, demanding her attention. The grass rustled under her boot as she slowly moved forward. Then it hit her. Every step she took was on flat earth. They weren’t near the slope. There was no reason the ball should have travelled this far. And it was still flashing. Nicole stopped moving altogether and glanced back over her shoulder. The dim light of the jeep was a thin dot on the horizon, barely a speck. She couldn’t catch sight of Benton. Or the stars above her or the town lights in the horizon. There were only the three patches of existence within the world; the jeep light, the ball before her, and the mitt on her hand. Everything else had been taken by the night.

  Her stomach flipped and crushed as she turned to look back at the ball. It wasn’t moving. It had stopped when she stopped following. Each flash of shifting color lit up the night around it and she strained to use the flickering glimmer to search the shadows. It didn’t work. The sick feeling inside her grew sharper as she realized how silent it was. No insects, no birds, no hint of Benton shuffling somewhere behind her. It was quiet enough that she could actually hear the mechanics of the ball clicking.

  Wetting her suddenly too dry lips, Nicole began to shuffle backwards. Her eyes remained trained on the little ball, certain that at some point the colors would illuminate a demonic face. With each uneasy step, a thought clarified within her mind. The jeep is gone. She fought back the notion, but it was no use. It just felt like a certainty. She could perfectly imagine herself sprinting for its safety only to find the area vacant. Unable to help herself, she shot a quick glance over her shoulder. The jeep was still there. Benton still wasn’t. Then the light of the ball clicked off.

  Darkness rushed over her like a tidal wave, too thick for the glow of her glove to compete with. Soft shades of blue and pink barely survived an inch beyond their plastic containers. She lifted the mitt anyway, hoping to use it as a flashlight and wishing that she had brought her phone.

  The tiny light source did little good. Her instincts screamed at her to get out of there and she listened, spinning around to hurriedly walk towards the comforting light of the jeep. If something was there, she didn’t want to startle it, didn’t want to provoke any impulse it might have to attack. A cold chill swept up her spine. She shivered and walked a bit faster. Not too fast, the little part of herself that clung to the hope that it was only an animal, whispered. Don’t run. Don’t run. Her mouth became painfully dry when she heard the grass crunch behind her, from somewhere deep out of sight. Something was following her and it sounded heavy. The crunch repeated. One after the other. Closer each time, it sounded like trotting hooves. She glanced around, trying to find the source of the noise, but was only met with a blanket of darkness. The hoof sounds didn’t stop edging closer.

  Breath catching in her throat, Nicole looked over her shoulder, back towards the ball. With the sharp, snorted grunt, twin floating flames burst into existence. They crackled and sparked with embers as they hovered at least a foot above her head. Ice flooded though Nicole’s veins as she watched the flames dance and heard a horse snort and snarl. The flames barreled towards her, bringing with them the thunderous roar of the hooves smashing the earth and shattering stone.

  The mitt slipped from her hand as she bolted for her jeep. Her legs strained to move as fast as she urged them to, her lungs burned, the sole of her boots slammed down on the thick layer of grass with a slick squish. She wasn’t fast enough. The rhythm of the horse changed, drawing closer, faster, shifting into a steady gallop. Its every breath was a grunt that snapped and hissed like dying flames. The earth shook as it drew closer behind her, making her lose balance, forcing her to go slower as she tried to keep upright. The stench of rot filled her lungs. She heaved it in, desperate for air, and almost gagged. Without breaking stride, she risked a glance behind. Nothing followed her. Nothing but the twin flames that now hovered just an arm’s length behind.

  “Benton!”

  She snapped her face back around to see him standing next to the passenger side door, the weak light turning his blonde hair into a ring of silver.

  “Get in!” she screamed.

  Benton didn’t hesitate to follow her command and flung himself inside. The door slammed shut behind him. A spark of relief twisted up through her core as she heard the tell-tale clack of the trunk being popped open. She hooked her fingers around the edge of the metal and swung it open just enough for her to leap through. The cool metal of the
trunk smacked against her stomach as she landed inside. Instantly, she scrambled up and whirled around. In the dim light, she easily found the truck door and slammed it shut with a resounding whack. Her hands fumbling to engage the lock. Seconds later, Benton closed the driver’s side door and the overhead light went off, casting them into darkness. The silence was broken only by Benton clicking the locks on the doors, and her panted breaths.

  The galloping noise continued and Nicole reached over the back seat, stretching until her hands found Benton’s arm. With a few hard yanks, and a couple of painful collisions, she managed to pull him over the back seat and into the open space of the trunk. He didn’t fight her. But shock and odd angles made it hard to organize his long limbs with any kind of dignity. He landed hard beside her with a painful gasp. She could feel him rolling onto his stomach as she searched for the picnic blanket that was always kept nicely folded in the corner.

  It was near impossible to tell if her hurried jerks of the blanket had managed to cover them both. In such darkness, it was just as likely that they were both still exposed. Or that the creature was already outside, watching them through the thin layer of glass that was the window. She tried not to think about that as she pulled Benton closer. Her stomach plummeted as their tiny makeshift shelter warmed with a soft glow. Benton’s mitt was still on his hand, glow sticks perfectly in place, signaling their hiding place like a search beacon.

  Shadows clung to Benton’s face, stubbornly remaining even as the soft multi-colored light played within the space. Slowly, careful not to make any large movements, he pulled the glove from his hand and tucked it under his chest. It didn’t fully smother the glow. In the play of shadows, his eyes became silver disks, almost with a light of their own.

  “What is going– ”

  She shushed him, her hand trembling as she pressed it over his mouth. He fell silent, but his eyes never stopped asking her questions she couldn’t answer. The solid thud of the hoof steps made them both freeze. Its breath sounded like a growl as it panted against the windows inches above their heads. There was something inherent within the sound that pushed every nerve in her body on edge; something that made the more primal part of her brain cower.

  Beside her, Benton had the same reaction. She could see it in the widening of his eyes. Hear it in his hushed gasp. His hand clamped over her own and he inched it from his mouth. His breath, hot and fast, flushed over her fingertips as they both waited. The creature snorted, loud and savage. Still, it was impossible to tell exactly where the sound had come from. Neither willing to move, they twisted their heads as much as they could, listening for the slightest hint that would give it away.

  The massive beast of a horse slowly began to circle the jeep. The vehicle jolted with every step, the suspension squealing as it rocked. Nicole had been around horses her whole life, but she couldn’t fathom one ever being large enough to provoke that kind of reaction. Benton’s hand tightened around her own with every monstrous thud.

  The jeep trembled violently as something unseen landed on top of its metal roof. They both flinched, clenching their jaws to keep down their startled cries. Nicole’s teeth ached with the effort. She couldn’t help but flinch as thump after thump echoed through the cab. The metal groaned and popped with the heavy footsteps that crossed over the top of them. Cold shock clawed the inside of her ribs when she realized that stride sounded human. Then it stopped.

  Silence curled up around them, thick and smothering. Her muscles twitched, unsure if they should be ready for a fight, or slacken with relief. There had been no retreating steps. Either the monstrosity of a horse and its rider were gone, or they were still out there, just above them, beside them, with only a few inches and some steel keeping them away.

  Benton met Nicole’s gaze, his eyes as wide as her own. She couldn’t tell which one of them was trembling as she pressed her lips into a fine line, holding her breath as she struggled to hear what was happening. The crushing silence was broken by a faint, gentle slide. She could hear a few of them, moving as one, making it impossible to tell their actual numbers. It was a familiar sound that she couldn’t quite place. Benton recognized it instantly. Her heart stammered within her chest when he helped her eyes and mouthed one word, ‘locks.' With a sharp flurry of mechanical clicks, the trunk door flung open.

  Cool night air rushed in. They bolted up, limbs tangling in the blanket. Blindly, they both began scrambling back, kicking and thrashing in an attempt to hit whatever was coming in. The side doors burst out, their hinges almost coming apart as they swung wide open. The overhead light turned on. The dim bulb now burned her eyes as she pressed herself into a corner, her hands raised up to protect her head.

  There was nothing. Nothing grabbed her. Nothing moved. Her heart was still within her throat as the soft sound of life came back. The call of birds roosting for the night and crickets chirping coaxed her to lower her arms and blink into the darkness. Benton was in the corner opposite her, looking just as rattled. His chest heaved as he hesitantly stretched out his legs. Nicole followed his line of sight and blinked into the darkness. She could just make out the edges of the trunk door but nothing beyond.

  Benton rose onto all fours and pushed himself back into a crouch. He looked ready to spring in any direction and his eyes kept flicking back to hers. Slowly, keeping herself close to his side, she crept to the edge of the trunk. She stretched her arm out until her fingers shook with the strain but the handle of the truck door always seemed just beyond her reach. The darkness seemed like a living thing, ready to devour her whole, waiting for her to edge out just a little too far. Carefully, her eyes ever scanning the visible depths, she leaned out a bit further. Benton shifted anxiously. Her fingertips grazed the handle. And the world reeled back into silence.

  Lurching forward, Nicole gabbed the handled and threw herself back. The trunk door slammed shut, hard enough to make the back window crack with the strike, as her spine collided with the back of the seats. Benton was already shoving her into motion the second she stopped moving. They both scrambled over the back of the seats and Benton pushed her towards the front of the car. Slipping into the driver’s seat, Nicole searched for her keys as Benton yanked the doors shut once more.

  She fumbled in her pocket, twisting her fingers into painful angles to wrench the keys free. The metal tip scraped into the ignition as Benton pressed against the back of her seat to pull the last door closed. The light went off once more, but the engine roared to life. The steady, reliable strum kept her from panicking. She clutched the gear stick, but before she could force it into reverse, a blinding, flashing light burst into existence. It radiated out in front of them. The light danced off the hood of her car, washing their stunned faces in a constantly shifting array of color.

  Benton leaned down between the two front seats as Nicole reached out with a shaking hand and turned on the driving lights. The ball hovered in mid-air, still flashing, for a moment longer. Then it dropped, plummeting down the deep cliff, tumbling unhindered until the shards of light disappeared from view. Dirt and gravel flew up in a bellowing cloud as Nicole forced the jeep into reverse and pounded her foot against the accelerator a second later. She carried them a few feet, not even glancing behind, never taking her eyes off the empty patch of air that had held the ball. With a hard yank, she whirled the jeep around. The gears ground together as she forced them into place. Nicole pushed the aging jeep as fast as it could go. They barreled down the long, twisting road back towards the town, never once daring to glance behind.

  Chapter 2

  Benton didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Not until they were once again on the paved highway, passing under the spatially placed streetlights and approaching the growing light and life of the small town. Fort Wayward wasn’t big enough to warrant a single stoplight, and the buildings were just a light speck of structures along one side of the narrow highway. But, within that moment, it felt as bright and lively as a capital city. A gas station and diner were the first places tha
t met them. With a sudden burst of words that made Nicole jump, Benton insisted that she pull over. Nicole swerved into the gravel drive parking lot that stretched across both buildings and slammed on the brakes. The sudden jolt lurched him hard against the front seats, a reminder that he hadn’t moved since they had left the Jump.

  Nicole stared straight ahead. She dropped one hand from the wheel but only long enough to turn the engine off. Then she put it back on the steering wheel and continued her staring contest with the diner’s front window. The neon sign buzzed as it drenched the car with a rosy red glow. He twisted and slipped through the gap of the front seats, ungracefully dumping himself into the passenger seat. His back ended up against the dashboard and it took a few extra moments to organize his gangly legs over the seat back. Nicole, mercifully, didn’t comment. Somehow, he twisted himself around and up enough that his feet hit the roof and he paused.

  “It dented your roof.”

  Nicole turned around to look, one hand pressing against his thigh to hold him still so she could see the damage properly. It left him in an awkward and unflattering angle but he didn’t fight it, holding still with his back crammed in the jam of the dashboard and door as she made her appraisal.

  “What do paranormal creatures have against my jeep?”

  He jolted at her sudden wail.

  “Why are you asking me?” he snapped back.

  She glared at him, her warm brown eyes narrowed and mouth a firm line. He quickly shifted his attention back to the damage above him. Whatever had come after them had bent the metal enough that it would probably brush the tips of his spiked hair when he sat up.

  “It’s not that bad,” he offered. He quickly rushed to follow up the obvious lie with, “I’m sure you can get it hammered out.”

  She twisted in her seat to face him straight on. His jeans couldn’t stand against her nails as she dug them into the flesh of his thigh. “Do you have any idea how expensive it was to replace the window that stupid Leanan Sidhe broke?”