Tortured Souls (The Orion Circle)

by Wheaton, Kimber Leigh

  “Come back to me, baby,” Logan whispers in my ear.

  He continues to call to me in low murmurs, coaxing me back from the nightmare vision. I latch onto his voice—concentrate on the feel of his hands smoothing my hair, his lips on my cheek. My eyes snap open, and I throw my arms around him, clutching his t-shirt in my fingers. I gasp out a choked sob when I try to describe what I saw in my vision. My ribs hurt. It feels as though someone ripped one right out of my body.

  “I-I,” I stumble over the words, my mouth not obeying my brain’s commands.

  “Shh,” Logan murmurs, kissing my forehead. “Give yourself some time to recover. You gave us all a good scare.”

  “Scare?” I manage to squeak out the one word.

  “You were in that vision for a long time,” he says. “I was getting really worried.”

  A bottle of water appears in my line of vision. I take the bottle from Rebecca with a muttered thanks. She had the foresight to open it, and I take several long gulps. The cold liquid feels like heaven on my raw, parched throat.

  “Was I screaming?” I ask after several more sips of water.

  “Yeah, a lot,” Rebecca says in a shaky voice. “Do you remember what you saw?”

  “Can’t forget,” I whisper, trembling from the memory. “I can still feel the pain. It was awful.”

  “Tell us what you saw,” Mr. Kincaid says from across the room. “Take your time.”

  “The cult did some sort of ritual here,” I murmur.

  The water bottle falls from my limp fingers. It rolls across the room, spilling on the stone floor. I watch the liquid run across the stones, seeping into the seams.

  The liquid should be red.

  “Did you hear that?” Logan asks, his eyes darting around the room.

  “It was Ellie,” I reply, closing my eyes. “They did something awful to her here. To all of the children. In my vision, I was Ellie. I… she was chained to the stone table in the middle of the room. The cult members were all wearing black cloaks and chanting.”

  A keening wail fills the room, stopping my words. Poor Ellie. She suffered so much in life and is still a prisoner in death due to that dark ritual.

  “I’ll free you, Ellie,” I call out to the restless spirit. “I’ll do everything I can. I promise.”

  “What happened?” Logan asks, coaxing me to continue the story.

  “The head guy, Yardley I guess, appeared. He was in a red robe and wearing a demonic goat-like mask.” My head falls to Logan’s shoulder as I gather the courage to continue. “He raised this curvy dagger over me… her. There was a shooting pain in my side followed by this awful wrenching sensation and a loud pop. He took one of her ribs. I think that’s what Yardley used to seal the spirits here.”

  “A bone would be ideal to seal a spirit,” Mr. Kincaid says. He crosses the room and pulls me to my feet. “We need to get out of here. I may not be psychic, but I’m getting a bad feeling. I learned a long time ago to trust my gut.”

  Mr. Kincaid ushers us through the secret passage before turning off the light and trapping us in inky darkness. Flashlights flare to life. I race behind the others, focusing on Rebecca’s retreating form. Hurried footsteps echo on the hardwood floor as we run from some unseen force.

  The closer we get to the front door, the more I believe Mr. Kincaid is right. Pressure builds around us—crackling energy that sends my hair flying around my body. Logan grabs my hand, and a jolt of static electricity jumps from his hand to mine. He gives me an apologetic glance before lacing his fingers with mine. We burst through the doorway out into the bright afternoon sunlight.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Barn

  As I gasp in deep breaths of fresh air, the immense pressure on my chest begins to fade. I collapse onto the porch steps, holding my head in my hands. Was that Yardley? Maybe he didn’t like us poking around his inner sanctum.

  “What the hell was that?” Rebecca asks, hugging her arms around her body. “It was so cold. I can’t stop shaking. Was that Yardley’s ghost?”

  “Whatever it was, it didn’t want us in that room,” Daniel says while pacing back and forth.

  “Caw, caw, caw.” Several crows screech as they take flight from the railing.

  A gust of frigid air blows from the house through the open front door. It hits me in the back, sending me flying across the gravel drive. Tiny stones scrape into my hands and arms as I shield my face from harm. When my body finally skids to a stop, I stay curled up on my side, afraid to move. I feel frozen. My entire body is so cold. It’s as though I’m immersed in a snowdrift. Each breath burns my lungs.

  “Kacie!”

  “Cici!”

  The shouted voices sound so far away, yet I can feel the footfalls on the gravel as they race toward me. I open my eyes, searching for a dose of reality to drive back the frigid cold. My teeth chatter when I open my mouth to speak. Nothing comes out but a hoarse croak. Logan falls to his knees, skidding to a stop beside me. When he helps me into a sitting position, I blink in surprise. The blast I thought knocked me over, threw me several yards away.

  “Kacie, are you okay?” Logan asks, cradling my trembling body against his.

  “He’s afraid,” I say, my lips turning up into a grin. “When his essence plowed into me, I felt intense anger. But at the edges, I also felt fear.”

  “Your hands are like ice,” Logan says when he grasps them in his. “And your arm is all bloody. I’m going to enjoy taking that bastard down.”

  The anger in his eyes over my injuries warms my heart. As my body thaws, my arm begins to sting from the gravel burn. Logan helps me to my feet, supporting me on the walk over to the van. My jeans have several new holes in the thighs and on one knee. It was rather lucky I was wearing jeans and not shorts, or my legs would be as bad as my arm.

  “Set her down here,” Carl says as he flings open the back door. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

  “She needs more than a first aid kit, Carl,” Daniel says, helping Logan situate me in the back of the van. He cradles one of my arms. “We need to wash the road rash off.”

  “Let’s head back to my house,” Mr. Kincaid says. “We’ll get Kacie taken care of and discuss our findings today.”

  “No!” I shout a bit louder than I intended. Cringing, I glance up at Mr. Kincaid. “Sorry. We need to investigate the barn before we go. When Yardley’s spirit hit me, I felt his fear. We’re getting really close and he doesn’t like it at all.”

  “That’s exactly why we need to leave,” Mr. Kincaid argues, crossing his arms over his chest. “He threw you ten yards, Kacie.”

  Rebecca moistens a towel with some bottled water before handing it to Daniel. He wipes at my forearm with gentle strokes. I hiss at the sharp pain as little pieces of gravel break free from my skin, clattering to the floor of the van.

  “His spirit used a lot of energy in that attack,” Logan says. He pulls me up on his lap while Daniel continues his ministrations on my arm. “He must be pretty weak right now. It’s a perfect time to poke around since I doubt he’ll have the energy to attack again soon. As long as you’re up to it, Kacie.”

  I nod then rest my head against his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I return to the vision, trying to see the scene from objective eyes. During the vision I was frantic, terrified. I couldn’t think clearly enough to take in my surroundings in any detail. Something about Yardley niggles at my brain but I can’t quite figure out what.

  “This one’s pretty deep, Cici,” Daniel warns.

  The rag scrapes against the shoulder that took the brunt of the impact. When I glance down, rage bubbles to the surface. This was one of my favorite shirts! Gavin got me this Avenged Sevenfold shirt from a concert I couldn’t go to. He was so sweet, and the gift is a happy memory. Now the shoulder and arm are shredded. With tender fingers, I pull on the shredded material. It’s beyond repair. Damn.

  “Actually, I think the shirt looks cool like this,”
Rebecca says, noticing my distress over the torn shirt. “We can make the other side match. I’ll help you later.”

  “Almost got it all,” Daniel murmurs, running the towel over my shoulder with a gentle swipe. “Yep, I think that’s the best I can do for now.”

  I cry out from the pain when Daniel sprays the entire area with an antiseptic. Logan’s arms tighten around me, and I cling to him with my uninjured arm. The entire area stings so badly it reminds me of the time I fell on a fire ant hill.

  “We’ll have Dr. Hayes take a look at it later,” Mr. Kincaid says in a calm tone, though he shuffles from foot to foot, revealing his anxiety.

  I start to protest when Daniel winds a gauzy bandage around my arm, but the dark glare he shoots at me leaves the words stuck in my throat. I feel like the subject of a game of doctor. He wraps the bandage up over my shoulder before securing it with paper tape. Maybe a game of Egyptian mummy would be more appropriate. I can’t go home with my arm wrapped like this. Dad will flip. He’ll decree that the Circle is too dangerous, and no amount of Dr. Hayes’ brand of persuasion will change his mind.

  “It’s only temporary,” Logan says, watching me poke at the bandage.

  “Do you have any idea how much this is gonna hurt to peel off later?” I fix Daniel with a withering glower. It doesn’t have the desired effect.

  “Aw, Cici, you can’t scare me with your death glare anymore,” Daniel says, chuckling under his breath. “It’s actually pretty cute the way your bottom lip sticks out in a bit of a pout…”

  Hot blood pools in my cheeks. I lean forward a bit, hoping my long hair will hide my blush from Daniel. This is a battle I can’t win, so I think I’ll just bow out rather than make a fool of myself.

  “So are we going to the barn?” Rebecca asks, drawing everyone’s attention away from my flaming cheeks.

  “Yes,” I reply, jumping to the ground from the back of the van.

  My hip protests the movement. I rub my fingers along the sore spot on my hip. It extends down the side of my thigh all the way to the knee. I bet it’ll be one amazing bruise by tomorrow. My pale skin makes even the lightest bruise rather spectacular.

  “Hey, careful,” Logan says, rushing to my side. He wraps his arm around my back, supporting part of my weight. “You did just fly down a gravel drive.”

  “The barn is behind the house. This way,” Mr. Kincaid says, heading toward the left side of the manor.

  A stone path winds around the house. It looks brand new. The owners probably put it in when they put the house up for sale. In fact the grounds are well-kept. I was expecting something creepy, not some nice pathway through a flower garden. It’s still early enough in the season that most of the flowers are in bloom. Perhaps come winter the place will resemble the house of horrors it should. I can’t help but wonder about the Carters. Why would they buy a place with such dark history? Kinda like their very own American Horror Story house.

  “Wow!” Rebecca exclaims as we round the corner. “Look at that barn. And the riding ring. It’s perfect!”

  The barn isn’t the old-fashioned red monstrosity I was expecting. It looks brand new, made of gleaming natural-stained wood slats. Now I understand what attracted them to the property. It’s a horse lovers dream come true. We enter through a side door leading into a large office. The sweet woody scent of cedar fills my nostrils.

  “The original barn was torn down before the Carters bought the property,” Mr. Kincaid says as we pass through the office into the main barn.

  The barn is one massive room with at least fifteen to twenty horse stalls. Fresh hay covers the floor, trailing to each stall. It appears the Carters are getting ready for horses.

  “Is anything in here original,” Daniel asks, running his fingers over one of the stall doors. He never put his gloves back on after treating my shoulder. “I’m getting nothing but forest. It’s rather refreshing.”

  “Is the wood unhappy here?” Rebecca asks.

  “Plants don’t have complex feelings like that,” Daniel says as he moves toward the back of the barn. “I just get glimpses of the forest the wood came from, and any human emotions attached to it. Like here… some guy smashed his thumb while hammering this plank into place. Ouch!”

  Daniel snatches his hand back as though burned. He rubs his fingers while glancing around the barn. Above us a large hayloft takes up the back third of the ceiling. No, that’s not where Yardley kept the kids.

  It was dark.., and smelled of both antiseptic and decay.

  The words whisper through my mind. I whip my head around so fast that my hair smacks Logan in the face. With a sheepish grin, I mutter an apology. An image of a symbol on a metal door fills my mind, but I don’t recognize it.

  “I think Ellie just sent me a message,” I say, unable to stop searching for the owner of those whispered words. The speaker sounded like they were right behind me. “Does anyone have a pen and paper?” Rebecca hands both over, and I quickly sketch the symbol.

  “That’s a radiation symbol,” Mr. Kincaid says, studying the paper.

  “Ellie was someplace dark, and the door was metal with this symbol,” I say, concentrating on the image she projected to me.

  “So maybe a fallout shelter left over from the Cold War?” Logan suggests, passing the paper to Daniel.

  “How are we supposed to find that without ground penetrating radar or something?” Carl asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I need to contact the company that did the reconstruction of the barn,” Mr. Kincaid says, heading back toward the entrance. He seems in a hurry to leave. Perhaps the events today were too much. “They should still have the old blueprints and the construction plans. After reviewing those, we’ll have a better idea if there is a fallout shelter here and how to access it. It’s quite possible they covered the access.”

  “I hope not,” I murmur as my eyes scan the dirt floor. “I think that shelter may be the key to freeing the children.”

  “Well, there’s nothing else we can do here now,” Mr. Kincaid says from the office door. “Let’s head back to my place and regroup with the others over dinner.”

  He disappears into the office, followed by Rebecca and Carl. A cool breeze blows by, ruffling my hair. I know it’s one of the boys, though I’m not sure which. Just as I’m about to ask for help locating the shelter, the temperature returns to normal. The spirit is gone.

  “Come on, Kacie,” Logan says, taking my hand. “I don’t think there’s anything else we can do here today—I mean other than dig up the entire barn.”

  “You’re right,” I admit.

  There’s a heavy pressure in my chest. I feel like I’m letting the spirits down—like I should be doing something other than leaving. After one last glance over my shoulder, I follow Logan out of the barn and into the twilight. Time flew while we were investigating the barn. We pick up the pace to a fast jog, neither of us wanting to be here after dark. Daniel revs the engine in the SUV as we jump into the backseat. Before we can buckle our seatbelts, he takes off down the gravel road, following the van’s taillights.

  My breath comes out in a relieved whoosh.

  Why do I feel like we escaped just in time?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Slumber Party

  When no new information turns up from the construction company that rebuilt the barn, grim satanic cult talk is replaced with excited chatter about the upcoming Samhain Gala. It seems everyone is willing to let it go. Everyone but me. Not that I could even if I wanted to.

  Dr. Hayes decided several days ago that I need to have more nighttime visions if we are to have any hope of defeating the Foxblood Demon—I hate the name the media coined for him all those years ago, mostly because I get the feeling Yardley loves it. Well, I stopped taking the medication suppressing the visions, but they haven’t returned like I expected. Of course, it could be caused by lack of sleep. I think I’m sabotaging myself out of fear. It’s hard to go to slee
p when I fear he will show up.

  Nightly slumber parties continue in my home theater room, though tonight is the noisiest yet. The last few nights it was just Gavin and Logan with me. It’s no surprise I miss Logan. I felt so safe with him nearby. What surprises me is that I miss Gavin’s snoring. Yep, even that foghorn is preferable to the giggle fest going on right now. Girl’s night in, they called it. It’ll be fun, they said… take your mind off the killer phantom. I’ve been visionless for three nights now, and I really need one soon.

  Halloween is less than two weeks away. What will happen if I can’t figure out where Yardley hid the trophies he used to trap the souls? A shudder courses through me. I freeze, caught between hoping it’s just the air conditioning and wanting a visitation. Anything to get a little more information. The moment passes, the shiver caused by nothing more than the cool air flowing from the vent in the ceiling.

  “You okay, Kacie?”

  Raven, our newest addition, plops down on the sofa beside me. She just moved here from Orlando. Her father is high up in the Orion Circle, so Raven and her brother, Mark, were welcomed on arrival. Her fingers wrap around one long strand of black hair, coiling and uncoiling in a nervous gesture.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess,” I reply, squirming under her scrutinizing stare. Her dark blue eyes never leave mine as her left eyebrow arches above her bangs.

  “You seem anything but okay,” she comments, breaking eye contact to watch Gavin enter the room.

  Gavin stands behind me, his arms crossed over his chest. After several moments locked in a staring contest, he throws his head back with a bark of laughter.

  “You’ve got some visitors downstairs,” Gavin says with a wink. “I’m sending them up, but I want them out at midnight.” He stops at the door. “Because for some reason Dad thinks teens only have sex after midnight.”