by Rachel James
Out of nowhere, the screams and pain died down, allowing her to fight past the blinding light and perceive him. He was struggling to his feet, balancing his head carefully atop his neck. Though he moved like a slug, Janice thought him lucky. He seemed to be the only one of them capable of moving inside the pain with any degree of success. She watched as he struggled to his knees, clutching the sofa for needed support. Semi-upright, he dragged his body sideways, away from the window frame. At the outer edge of the sofa, he went still and Janice wondered if he had blacked out. She couldn’t tell since his prone figure was backlit by the proscenium lights, which were fast becoming cloaked in a transparent blue haze. The jasmine scent was suddenly everywhere, causing Janice to wish she could cover her nose to keep from inhaling the noxious smell. God, would this nightmare never end? Her stomach was heaving enough already without the smell. As if on cue, her mind cleared to see a thin blue mist begin to seep slowly through the pores of the canvas frame.
“Janice!” The groan was anxious and she turned to Adrian, grateful he had moved again, this time able to reach the opposite end of the sofa. “Janice!” The call was more urgent this time. Filled with her own desperation now that the blue mist was rising upward more quickly, she stammered hoarsely.
“Here.”
“Get behind me,” he ordered. When she didn’t move, an emphatic growl followed. “Get behind me!”
Janice’s blood chilled at the command. Get behind him? What for? She tried to connect her mind to his but was thwarted. All she felt was emptiness, but the power of that emptiness propelled her from her seat. Bolting up the ramp, she scurried to the haven of Adrian’s side in less than fifteen seconds.
He was on his feet now, more in control of his body and moving past the pain. He pulled Janice behind his back, sheltering her from the mist that now hung in wide strips in front of the painting. Janice peered over his shoulder at the shimmering shape transforming itself into a distinctly feminine form.
“I don’t sense a threat, do you?” she whispered. Her fingers plucked at his shirt back for reassurance. The feel of his body heat seeping through the material steadied her as she awaited his reply.
“She’s waiting.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know,” he barked over his shoulder.
“Well, don’t take it out on me!” Janice barked back.
At their heated words, the shape before them surged upward, shimmering from blue to angry red. Janice’s heart dropped to her toes and she took a hasty step back. Adrian had the good sense to do the same. Had the mist sensed their anger? It must have. Why else would it continue to alternate from red to blue repeatedly as if soaking up their emotions?
Eyes glued to the mist, they watched and waited for a sign. When none came, Adrian called out loudly to the others.
“Can you move, Lloyd?”
His reply was swift.
“Think so.”
“Get over here.”
Seconds later, Janice felt her right shoulder shaded by a second barrier.
“Jasper?”
“Blinding headache, I’m afraid. Vision’s gone. No help to you.”
“Muriel,” Janice called out, casting a half-glance his way. “She’s out.”
At her words, he reached out and groped for Muriel’s pulse point. Locating it, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist.
“Can’t see her face clearly, my vision’s fogged, but her pulse is strong. She’s unhurt.”
“You better move away from her, Jasper,” Adrian cautioned as the mist began to drift down and away from the painting. “Our lady friend is about to make herself known to us, I think.”
Janice heard the scrape of Jasper’s chair and knew he had followed Adrian’s warning. It was a good warning, Janice surmised as she peered between the men’s shoulders and saw the mist had finished its transformation. Before them now floated a curvaceous, womanly shape.
“For three centuries, I have been empty.”
The voice was so startling clear that for a moment Janice thought it had come from the mist itself. But when Adrian and Lloyd swung their heads to the right, Janice realized she had erred. Muriel had spoken, or at least a melodious voice similar to Muriel’s had spoken. It spoke again, repeating itself.
“For three centuries, I have been empty.”
The spirit paused, obviously expecting a return reply. When none came, the spirit tried again.
“I cannot harm you. I am spirit, lost and empty. I seek release, only release, nothing more. I seek to speak to the woman. Will she speak to me?”
Adrian made a protective gesture as if to deny the spirit, but Janice thwarted him by slipping between the men’s shoulders. She felt Adrian’s fingers tug at her sweater back and was cheered by the support.
“I will speak with you. My name is Janice.”
“For three centuries I have been empty, Janice.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand the meaning of your words. Will you tell me what they mean?”
“Across time, I have come to show you their meaning.”
“Show?”
“Through you and the man.”
“Man?”
“The one who stands behind. The one who pretends to dislike you so.”
Adrian’s fingers twitched on her waist and Janice found herself liking the misty cloud. It didn’t beat around the bush. The spirit seemed to sense her acceptance.
“In the spirit world, all has purpose. Believe you this?”
Janice sobered, nodding her head.
“I believe it.”
“Then believe my single words. Another has interfered with my destiny. Altered its purpose. For that, I am imprisoned in emptiness.”
“In a crawlspace?” Janice asked, suddenly understanding her earlier vision.
“You have said it.”
“You seek the crawlspace?”
“Non, I seek not it. It is matter, nothing more. Rien plus.”
“I don’t know what you seek then.”
“Aubert. Until I am one with Aubert, there is only emptiness. That is my destiny. Do you understand this?”
“No, I don’t.”
The spirit drifted closer then, causing Janice to take a hasty step back. Adrian’s hand slipped around her waist to keep her from treading on his toes.
“Does the man who transforms matter understand my words?”
“I’m afraid not,” Adrian replied.
“Then believe you this. Until I am one with Aubert, this house shall serve as prison, as my soul is imprisoned.” The spirit waved her hand, and all around them, Janice heard the sound of sizzling fire. Outside the solarium windows, the night sky exploded with a fiery, red glow.
“What the hell? … ”
Lloyd’s curse was cut off as Adrian slammed his elbow hard against Lloyd’s ribcage. The spirit waivered, and in the distant regions of the house below and above, there was the rending sound of bolts soldered into place.
The spirit moved then, floating upward, startling them all with her agility. Janice took a half-turn back, colliding again with Adrian. She clutched his shirt collar for support, wondering briefly how much more abuse his toes could take. If she got any closer to him, they’d be breathing out of the same pair of lungs. Cautiously, she watched the mist drift its way back to the window frame and begin to dissipate into the canvas pores.
“Lisette?” Janice called out uneasily.
The mist paused in its evaporation. Through Muriel, it spoke again, its tone sad and wistful.
“That which was Lisette is non plus. Her body is lost, now remains only her spirit. Soon, without release, even that will be lost.”
The mist began to dissipate again, seeping through the canvas, leaving a collage of undecipherable p
atterns staining the canvas in its wake. From her chair, Muriel called out sadly.
“I ache. Je faire.”
As the words faded away, Janice saw Muriel’s head slump to her chest. Immediately, Janice’s mind link with the spirit and the others severed completely. Janice’s knees gave way and she would have collapsed totally if not for Adrian’s tightening embrace. Moving with an agility she didn’t expect, he spun her around and deposited her into the folds of the deep cushions of the sofa. Wearily, he plopped down beside her, brushing at the beads of sweat coating his forehead.
Across the room, Muriel gave a soft groan and her plump body began to slide from the chair. Jasper bolted from his seat, snatching her up as she came awake. It was obvious by her expression she was shocked to find herself being propped stiffly into the chair. Janice saw her inspect Jasper’s face first and then her gaze sought each of them in succession.
“Damn, I’ve missed the best part, haven’t I? A ghost?”
Janice saw her look to Jasper for confirmation. He patted her hand and nodded.
“A rather pretty one, Muree.”
Muriel’s face lit up even though it was clear she was disappointed.
“Was I her voice? I seem to remember a very pretty voice somewhere far off.”
Jasper nodded again.
“My dear, you were wonderful. The star attraction.”
Muriel waved him away and Janice sensed her annoyance.
“Well, I’m mad as hell. I hate missing all the fun. I was so enjoying Adrian’s performance. Wouldn’t you think ghosts could learn better manners?”
“Or better timing,” Adrian muttered wryly.
Muriel was the only one to laugh at his sarcasm.
“Dear me, Adrian, has your ego been inconvenienced?”
Amused by her cheerful barb, Adrian laughed — the first genuine laugh Janice had heard him utter since they had met. It was undiluted, deep, warm and rich. Hearing it, she realized they had all been wrong about him. He was far kinder than he wanted anyone to know. She found the thought disturbing — what had happened to make him jaded and callous enough over the years to hide his kindness?
At the foot of the stage, Muriel pushed herself up from her chair, then gave a start when she caught sight of the red hue blazing outside the window.
“What’s happening outside? Is there a fire?”
All smiles vanished at once, no one eager to be the one to explain things to Muriel just yet. Sensing their reluctance, she re-sat herself murmuring softly.
Jasper patted her hand and an uncomfortable silence descended now that the shared danger was at an end. For a moment, each stared out the window, mesmerized by the fiery red glow. And then a thunderous pounding erupted from the window seat box stage right, startling them all and sending Adrian to his feet with an anxious shout.
“Ginger!”
Lloyd sprang forward with Adrian, Janice following on their heels. Ginger’s cries were muted from the box at first, unintelligible, but as Adrian flung back the seat cover, she exploded in venomous rage.
“Damn you to hell, Adrian! How dare you lock me inside this box! You made me pass out! I near suffocated.” She hauled up her crinolines and climbed over the edge of the box. Tripping slightly, she knocked Adrian’s hand away as he offered help. “I suppose you think that was damn funny.”
“Ginger, I can explain.”
“It had better be good.”
She took a stance so intimidating Janice thought even the bravest of heroes would wither under the scrutiny. That Adrian was rattled by it was clear; he struggled to find adequate words to describe the last few minutes. Janice didn’t envy him. Nor could she help him. She hadn’t the foggiest notion of how to tell a rational, sensible woman that she had just missed conversing with a ghostly apparition. Finally, out of sheer desperation Janice supposed, Adrian settled for the truth.
“Oh, hell, Ginger. The illusion was stopped by a ghost. She broke my concentration.”
The slap was so unexpected and thrown with such incredible force that Janice almost felt its impact from where she stood. Though Adrian had been struck, it was she who took a step back, while the others remained frozen in place at the bottom of the stage ramp. The silence in the room became as chilled as a sheet of glazed ice. Ginger’s eyes never left Adrian’s face as she railed.
“I’m not some dumb bimbo you picked up outside your stage door, Adrian. Don’t you ever treat me again as if I were.”
She moved then, storming past the trio, down the ramp and toward the exit door. Halfway down the solarium, she spotted the red glow outside the window and veered sharply toward it. The group dashed after her, calling a simultaneous warning. Lloyd was the first to reach her; however, he was a fraction of a second too late as he made a grab for her hand to prevent it colliding with the glass pane. A red electrical charge snaked out and swiped at her fingertips. Ginger jumped back, too stunned to cry out. Eyes wide as saucers, she inched her way backward, slamming into Janice who steadied her. From the look on her face, Janice knew she needed rational confirmation that she wasn’t hallucinating. Her gaze finally swung from the window to Janice.
“We’re trapped?”
“Yes.”
“By a ghost?”
“Yes.”
Her gaze flew to Adrian for comfort but Janice saw his stare was centered on the red glow outside. By the stoic set of his shoulders, it was clear he wasn’t going to forgive Ginger for the slap. Ginger’s face fell and Janice’s maternal instincts kicked in. She stifled an urge to kick Adrian in the shins for his brutal hostility. He had no right to be so ugly to Ginger, or blame her for what had transpired. It wasn’t her fault. It was none of their faults.
Draping an arm around Ginger, Janice squeezed her shoulders in sympathy.
“We were all powerless to stop what occurred. Even Adrian, as brilliant a psychic as he is.”
Muriel shadowed her other side, slipping an arm around Ginger’s waist.
“Janice is right. It was out of our hands. Even if you had been awake, it wouldn’t have done any good.”
A tearful sob escaped Ginger’s lips as she embraced their waists in gratitude. Together, the trio turned and faced the window. Beyond the pane, the night sky fired up, turning an even brighter, angrier shade of red.
Chapter 11
FRIDAY — 10:30 PM
Wake up! The stark command sizzled through Janice’s brain and she came full awake, almost tumbling off the window seat she was perched on. Heart racing, she righted herself and swung her gaze to the dimly lit room behind her. Had she heard Lloyd’s voice? Squinting, she surveyed the shadows. Nothing. There had been no human voice calling, she realized, only her own inner voice chiding her to stay awake until the men came back from their foraging. She nibbled at her lower lip, wondering how long before the men would return. It had been an hour since they had disappeared into the main part of the chateau on a scouting expedition. What had they found? She shook her head, not at all sure she really wanted to know.
Nothing had changed outside the window in the last hour either. The fiery red glow stood vigil outside the solarium window, guarding them and the house. Prisoners! The word chilled her and Janice bit her lip again, this time tasting blood. Uncurling her feet from beneath her, she let them slide to full length along the window seat ledge. She felt the heated vibration on her pant leg and shifted her legs away. Oh no, you don’t, she admonished the glow silently. Once was enough.
Leaning her head back against the window frame, she sighed deeply. She knew in times of crises someone always seemed to remain calm and rational while everyone else involved fell to pieces. But why did it have to be her? She let her gaze travel to the reclining figures stretched out on the sofas pulled a few yards from where she sat and knew why. She was holding herself together for Muriel and Ginger’s bene
fit. For some inexplicable reason, she felt compelled to mask her growing anxieties from the women and project a confidence they could rely on. The question now was could she maintain the mask indefinitely?
She gave a sudden shiver, wondering if the purpose of this crazy situation was to sacrifice a human life for … what had Lisette’s spirit said? The release of her soul? Janice pushed the terrifying thought away. No, the spirit hadn’t seemed revengeful or heartless, only in great pain.
Turning her head, Janice rested her other cheek on her knees. She stared into the dark shadows of the room and felt her eyelids flutter wearily. Sleep, blessed sleep. If only she could succumb to its entreaty. Her eyelids flickered open immediately. She mustn’t sleep. Not until the men came back and she knew for sure how hopelessly stuck they were.
The human shadow came so quietly across the space that at first Janice thought she had imagined it. But as it neared and took form, she reared her head up quickly. Lloyd! In a flash, she was off the window seat and by his side. Her rapid movement alerted the two women on the sofas, who also sprang up.
“Anything?” Janice asked as the trio circled his form.
His expression was one of defeat.
“Nothing. It’s the same all over. The energy field is everywhere, blocking every window and exit.” His defeat changed to distress and Janice touched his arm.
“What is it, Lloyd? Are you ill?”
His expression grew more distressed and Janice sensed an inner panic within him.
“I can’t find Suzie, the serving girl who set the buffet. I’ve searched thoroughly. Nothing.”
“The glow outside has probably frightened her into hiding,” Muriel suggested. “She looked awfully young.”
“Barely out of her teens.” His scowl deepened. “What if she takes refuge in a hiding place?”
His meaning was clear and Janice found herself fumbling blindly for a chair to drop into.
“You do know where all the crawlspaces are, don’t you, Lloyd?”