by Juliet Vane
Chapter Twelve
A Goal and an Opponent
The hallways were growing dark. I reached over and took James’s hand as we walked to the kitchen. Holding his hand felt a little like coming home after a long day.
We walked in silence, and I thought about what we were about to do. We were going to voluntarily go into that basement and voluntarily touch the mirror that had terrorized me.
What if she appeared while we were moving the mirror? I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it.
James flipped on the lights in the kitchen. The fluorescent glare caused me to squint at first. Then I spotted the door, and pointed.
“The padlock’s not even latched,” I whispered.
James nodded. “Let’s go.”
We opened the door, and the scent of rot wafted up from the basement. The ladder was still there, propped against the wall beneath the kitchen door. I turned around and braced my arms on the door frame.
“Do you want me to go first?” James asked.
“No, I’m fine.” And I was actually telling the truth. As I found the next rung with my feet, I said loudly, “Hey, mirror girl. I’m going to help you. But I can’t do that if you freak me out. So I know where to take you, and I’m going to do that now. Just don’t…don’t appear or say anything, okay?”
I reached the bottom and looked up at the brightly lit doorway to the kitchen. James was silhouetted there. Was he going to laugh at me for talking to a ghost?
He just said, “That’s a good idea.”
Then he lowered himself down after me. The door leading into the kitchen closed partway, dimming the light in the basement. A feeling of urgency caused my heart to beat faster. We had a job to do, and we needed to move quickly. But I could barely see my hand, held out in front of me, and a draft ghosted over my skin, raising the fine hairs on my neck. Spirits? Ghosts?
James turned on his phone flashlight and we walked side by side over to the wall with the mirror propped against it. Shadows moved as we did, and my chest felt so tight that I wondered how my heart had any room to beat.
The covering on the mirror was still partly off, and I squinted, viewing it through my eyelashes, praying the girl’s face wouldn’t pop up.
Nothing. Phew.
“All right, let’s do this,” I said to James.
I picked up the top, and he grabbed the bottom. It was heavy—I wouldn’t have been able to lift it alone.
“That ladder’s going to be hard,” I said as we made our way back to the door. The light was all I could concentrate on—just getting there, reaching that goal.
When we reached the ladder, James set down his end of the mirror and climbed up first. “You’re going to have to lift it as high as you can, then I’ll pull it the rest of the way.”
I looked at the mirror doubtfully. It was freaking heavy. “Okay.”
Bending with my knees, I gripped the bottom and shoved it upward as hard as I could. The cloth covering slid off, and I stifled a scream. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.
“Got it,” James said, and the heavy weight lifted out of my arms.
I crawled up the ladder almost faster than he could lift the mirror. Once I was up, we stared at each other, panting.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s just get this thing upstairs.”
He held one end, and I held the other. I made sure we were aiming the reflecting side down, of course. No chances of seeing things that shouldn’t be there. We climbed up the staircase and stood on the second floor, in the north wing.
The mirror needed to be in the south wing. “Nearly there,” I said. “Do you think the doors will unlock after we do this?”
“I don’t know, but I hope so,” James said.
Footsteps sounded in the hall.
I looked over at James. “I don’t think that’s Logan. He would have texted us, right?”
James’s face was grim with determination. “Let’s just move faster, okay?”
Our own footsteps were muted thumps. We picked up speed, even though the weight of the mirror made it awkward. Dusk had arrived, the sun beneath the horizon. The windows showed a gray-blue world beyond—a world we couldn’t reach until we finished our task.
The footsteps grew louder, closer. In my imagination, a tall, slender man approached, his lips thinned in a sinister smile. His shoes, polished to a shine beneath the hems of his suit, clipped against the floor. Was it just my imagination, or was there a new chill in the air?
In science, I’d learned that cold was simply the absence of heat. But this cold feeling skittering over my skin felt substantial. There was weight to it.
“Hurry,” a girl’s voice whispered. “He’s coming.”
I nearly dropped my end of the mirror.
“That wasn’t your voice,” James said. “You—you didn’t say that.”
I shook my head, unable to speak. We walked as fast as possible, almost running. The mirror jostled in my grip. The footsteps continued behind us, slow, unhurried, yet they sounded closer and closer.
“Once I’m on the wall, he’ll leave you alone,” the mirror said.
“Holy crap,” James said. “I don’t even know—”
“Just hurry,” I whispered.
The edge of the mirror dug into my hands, heavy and sharp. My shoulders and forearms ached from exertion. My breath and heartbeat were loud and uneven, and James’s breath came in pants, too. Despite the physical demands of rushing through the school with this mirror, I felt cold. My legs didn’t want to work. They felt heavy and clumsy.
Move faster, I told myself.
The end of the south wing was in sight. The footsteps sounded closer, just a few feet behind us. A chill breeze caressed my neck, and it felt like a breath of evil.
“Hurry!” I said again.
We moved faster, sprinting down the hall. My arms felt like lead, like I wouldn’t be able to lift them. Once we reached the end of the hall, how would we even get the mirror into place? What if the mirror was wrong? What if the footsteps caught up to us, even after we got the mirror in place?
What would he do?
Images flashed in my mind—being held down, drained of blood, becoming sick, wasting away. I pushed the thoughts aside. We had to reach the end of the hall. We were nearly there. I had to trust my instincts and trust the mirror. We would make it, and we would be safe.
And if not, well…I couldn’t think about that.
“See the hook?” I said to James.
“Yeah.”
A few more steps. The loud footsteps were right behind us, and the chill breeze grew even colder. I could imagine the prick of a needle on the back of my neck. I lurched forward.
“And, lift!” James shouted.
With a cry of determination, I shoved the mirror upward. As soon as it made contact with the wall, the footsteps went silent. The breeze died.
The hallway felt empty.
James pulled me into his arms. “We did it,” he murmured, his voice low and sweet in my ear. “We did it.”
I nuzzled against his chest. His heart thudded loudly against my head, a rhythmic comfort. “You know how your grandfather said we can feel if a ghost is good or evil?”
“Yeah.”
“Those footsteps?” I said. “They were evil.”
“I know. I could feel them, too.”
“We just did something amazing,” I said.
Our phones chimed and buzzed at the same time. “Logan,” we said in unison, and cracked up laughing.
James fished his phone out of his pocket. “He says the doors are open.”
We rushed downstairs. It was now completely dark outside, but Logan was a beacon with his phone on in front of him, the screen giving his face an eerie light. He held the front door open.
“You guys, seriously, I just came back to check on you and I tried the door and what the hell? It opened right up.”
I looked at James, who looked back at me, and we both shrugged. We’d tell him all a
bout it—later.
Epilogue
Reunions and Promises
Two months later, my new roommate, Meredith, helped me with the finishing touches on our cleaning spree.
“I can’t wait to meet James,” Meredith said, wiping down the knobs on the stove. “He sounds so swoon-worthy.”
“He totally is,” I said.
She and I had gotten this place together right after spring break had ended, and while I’d seen James lots of times, Meredith had always managed to be out of town to give us plenty of privacy. She was the perfect roommate—a grad student with a steady boyfriend and job. She was even paying her share of the rent while she’d be in South America for the next three weeks for a work-study summer program.
I was no longer paying for Ian’s rent—I’d broken the lease after having a long chat with the landlord. She was recently divorced and actually quite sympathetic to my plight. “At least you found out early that he was a bastard,” she’d said, patting my hand in a maternal way. “I’ll take care of your ex. If he can’t pay the rent on his own, he’s out.”
I still didn’t know what had happened there—whether Ian had found another roommate or whether he’d been kicked to the curb. I also found that I didn’t really care how it worked out for him, anyway.
Just then, someone knocked at the door.
“Eee! He’s here!” Meredith said.
I ran to the door, flung it open, and there was James. His blond hair was messy, like he’d been driving with the windows down in his Jeep. His lips looked utterly kissable. I leaped into his arms and he spun me around, peppering my face with kisses.
After he set me down, I made introductions. Meredith looked suitably impressed. We visited for a little while, and then she grabbed her suitcase, which was sitting by the door. “Okay, I’m off,” she said. “It was so nice to meet you, James.”
She gave us each a hug. “Have a great time,” I told her.
“You, too.” She winked.
And then we had the apartment to ourselves. James took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. Peppermint.
Not living in the same town as my boyfriend wasn’t easy, but the longer separations did make for pretty hot make-out sessions every time we reunited.
He touched my hair, my hips, my shoulders, my lips. “Your skin is so soft,” he murmured, kissing my cheek.
“I’m so glad we’re together,” I said. “I love you, James.”
“I love you, too. It’s kind of crazy how it all began, isn’t it? Not our friendship, but spring break?”
“Yeah.” I smiled, remembering back.
“Logan told me there’s a bunch of musicians at Rosebud now, doing their summer program.”
“Hunh. I guess that means new friends for the mirror girl.”
“Glad it isn’t us.”
“Exactly.” I snuggled into his arms. “Everything is perfect, just like this.”
Coming Soon!
The Blood Flesh Bones Trilogy
June’s Blood (September 2017)
July’s Flesh (October 2017)
August’s Bones (November 2017)
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About Juliet
Juliet grew up in northern California, where she spent her free time staring at spooky lakes and making up stories about the old buildings surrounding them. Years later, she still lives in California and she still makes up spooky stories. Like April in April’s Ghosts, she’s terrified of spiders and obsessed with Hamilton.
Copyright
April’s Ghosts
by Juliet Vane
Copyright 2017 Juliet Vane. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or used fictitiously.