Mystical Love

by Rachel James

  The group disappeared from view. Seconds later, Adrian heard a vitriolic curse, followed by Janice’s bubbling laughter. Looking over, he saw the outline of a huge canopy close in on the doorway. Looking left, another silhouette appeared in the west bedroom doorway. Satisfied the group was taking his advice, he swung his own couch to a ninety degree angle alongside Ginger’s to ensure he could see both doorways. Lloyd re-entered the room, blankets in hand.

  “The room should stay warm for a couple of hours at least but here’s covers just in case.” He tossed a pink blanket to Ginger, who snuggled under it gratefully. Pivoting, Lloyd tossed the remaining blanket his way. Adrian caught it and settled quickly into the cushions. He didn’t know if sleep were possible but at least he’d give his body a rest. What his mind chose to do was its own business.

  Rolling the blanket in a ball, he tucked it beneath his head. Nearby, he heard a shifting motion and the room went dark around him. A tired sigh told Adrian that Ginger was falling off to sleep in rapid fashion.

  Stretching out full along the couch, he listened to the settling quiet and closed his eyes. Blessed sleep. He needed it badly. Soon, the only sound he heard was the occasional snap of wood chips in the fireplace. Muscles relaxing, he let his mind drift into a thin veil of half-sleep.

  Chapter 17

  SATURDAY — 3:15 AM

  Through a distant grayness, Janice heard a frightened shout. At first she ignored it, continuing to float along in her dreamless state. Then it hit her — someone was in trouble. She came awake with a start, her eyelids flying open with alarm. Someone was calling, needed her help. Rolling over, she oriented herself to the room and squinted into the surrounding darkness. She searched the shadows for an identifiable shape. Who had called for her help? Lloyd?

  Propping herself on her elbow, Janice located his shadowy form. A light, continuous snore assailed her ears, and she realized he was dead to the world. Had he called out in his sleep? Not likely.

  Rolling back around, Janice slid to the edge of the bed and hung out over it. Was it Muriel? Blinking rapidly again, she adjusted her eyes to the gloominess of the interior living room. Across the way, she could just make out two dim silhouettes and a bed. The Grisombs appeared to be soundly asleep, too. Adrian?

  She swung her head, locating the angled couch. He was sprawled out, and like the others, appeared to be in no difficulty. Still, she couldn’t shake the nagging notion something was wrong. Something odd was beginning and it was nearby. It was up to her to check it out. None of the others seemed to sense it.

  Swinging up, she slid from the bed and tiptoed into the darkened living room. The room’s iciness hit her full blast. Damn! Of all the times for the fire to go out. She cast a glance toward the fireplace and froze. The wood chips were burning as bright as ever. The hairs on her arm prickled suddenly and she knew instinctively she was not standing alone in the darkness. Light, Janice. Turn on the light, she urged herself. She whirled on point then skidded to a stop. Wake someone. You need a witness. She was at the angled couches in three seconds flat, bending down and calling Adrian’s name.

  He came full awake, even as her whisper left her lips. His face loomed close to hers and Janice was taken back at his alertness.

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  His breath fanned her cheeks and there was a gentle softness in his tone.

  “The room’s cold.”

  “The fire’s gone out,” he commented, as if the answer was obvious.

  “No, it hasn’t.”

  He came up rapidly, not bothering to check over his shoulder, and Janice could’ve kissed him for believing her without question. Did he know how endearing that made him to her at the moment? She pushed the thought away as she found her fingers clenched tightly. In the next instance, she was trailing behind him in the dark, heading for the light switch on the far wall. Once there, Adrian snapped the light on. Around them, the room filled with light and its sudden, shocking glare brought the sleeping couple in the west bedroom off the bed in a hurry and on to their feet.

  “What is it?” Jasper asked, circling the bed and stepping into the living room. His gaze darted about, seeking answers.

  Janice and Adrian did the same, swiveling their heads in search of their unknown intruder. And there was an intruder. Janice was sure of it now. The hairs on her neck had joined the ones on her arm in a stand-up salute.

  “Fuck!”

  Adrian’s muffled oath sent Janice’s stomach into a dizzy flip-flop and above her ribs, her heart began a clumsy foot race with her lungs. The hand holding hers trembled then jerked, and Janice followed Adrian’s gaze upward.

  Oh, shit.

  From the ceiling directly above Ginger’s sleeping form, a white mist was showering down droplets. Reacting, Janice made a movement to warn Ginger and found herself hauled back roughly.

  “Don’t be an idiot!” Adrian barked. “It’s our fiendish friend.”

  Janice wondered how he could identify anything from only a white mist. She got her answer immediately. A familiar stench rolled over them, and above them, the mist turned into a haze of shimmering purple lights. It laced itself down and stretched lengthwise over Ginger’s prone form.

  “Do something, Adrian,” Janice whispered.

  As the words left her lips, Ginger stirred on the couch, sensing the light and voices. Her eyes popped open. She didn’t see the cloud of lights at first, her gaze searching for Adrian on the companion couch. Not finding him there, her glance swiveled right and left, the first sign of apprehension appearing on her face. And then she glanced up. Absolute terror erased all other emotions, and Janice didn’t know what kept Ginger from screaming. The sparkling mist was descending now, stalking her form, as if aware she was about to bolt.

  “Ad … ri … an!”

  Her voice squeaked the last syllable. Ginger was working to be brave on the outside, but her stutter was a dead giveaway that she was frightened beyond belief. The cloud sagged suddenly and Ginger slid from the couch, seeking refuge against the side wall.

  It was a good try at escape, and any other day, it might have worked. But the cloud had anticipated her flight and followed immediately, stalking her cowering figure and galvanizing Janice into action. Tearing at Adrian’s fingers, Janice attempted to pry her wrist loose.

  “Let go, Adrian.”

  “God damn it, Janice, be still! She’ll be all right.”

  As if to mock Adrian, the mist ballooned out, encircling Ginger and cocooning her with its sparkling form. The swift attack galvanized the men forward in one fell swoop. Anticipating their approach and suddenly angered by it, the cloud billowed upward, transforming part of itself into a new shape. When it was finished, it resembled a misty octopus with shimmering ionized tentacles that hung high over the couch. The tube-like pincers sprayed outward toward the approaching men as if to rend them apart. The air sizzled around their heads like the crack of whip meeting flesh, and Janice quaked uncontrollably. In front of her, Adrian and Jasper ducked under the spray of electricity, just barely managing to dodge its stinger.

  The spirit was furious with their show of bravado, had every intention of punishing them for their audacity. Falling back, the men crowded into the women, forming a protective shield against the tentacle of light. Seeing the maneuver, the cloud doubled its show of force. Two more tentacles snaked upward, releasing a menacing hiss from somewhere in its central core. The sound chilled Janice’s soul as she clutched Adrian’s shirt back, ready to solder herself to it. The hiss continued like a steam boiler about to burst which unnerved the men as well, Janice realized when she heard Lloyd’s shaky curse.

  “God damn bastard! He’s not going to let us near her.”

  At his words, the tentacles halted in midflight and held their station. As if now having proved their superiority, they no longer needed to intimidate. This spirit w
as indeed arrogant, Janice thought. With an ugly, vindictive nature.

  Above their heads, the sparkling lights danced and curled for a brief second longer, then vanished completely. With the dissipation, the main cloud of light returned to cocooning Ginger. Again, the room was filled with the sound of crackling static and suddenly the cloud thinned, exposing Ginger’s rigid form to the group’s stare. Through the opaqueness, Janice could see her fright and a stain of tears. The sight of them brought a tight knot to Janice’s throat. It wasn’t fair for anyone to be so incredibly terrified.

  “Somebody do something, or I will,” she stated defiantly.

  Lloyd stepped in close to her body and lowered his voice so Ginger couldn’t hear. Or maybe so the spirit wouldn’t hear, Janice thought bleakly.

  “I don’t think we have any choice now but to let Muriel channel the spirit,” he stated.

  “I forbid it!” Jasper growled, overhearing. “That spirit is deranged. It would just as well kill us as look at us. Muriel could end up being its pawn.”

  “We’ve got to do something,” Lloyd argued.

  “We can’t leave Ginger stranded this way,” Janice stressed. “Please don’t abandon her.”

  “We won’t have to,” Jasper intervened, signaling toward the sparkling lights. “Our friend is tired of baiting us. Look.”

  The group swung around in unison. Across the way, there was a new change. The lights surrounding Ginger’s form were increasing in intensity and obliterating her from their sight once more.

  “Is she all right? Can anyone tell?”

  Janice felt her heart plummet along with a sinking feeling they were all doomed. One by one, they’d be picked off by this malevolent spirit. The men beside her closed their eyes. Jasper was the first to respond.

  “She’s about to blackout.”

  True to his pronouncement, Ginger toppled from the cloud of light. She slid to the carpet, ending in a crumpled heap at the foot of the couch. No one moved to help her. Rushing to her aid was out of the question, Janice knew. The cloud was still her hovering guardian, although Janice suspected that circumstance could change any second. No sooner had she finished the thought when the spirit shifted shapes again, this time morphing into a snake-like appendage streaming across the flat ceiling. If the situation weren’t so horrifying, Janice could admire the spirit’s ability to transform itself at will. It ballooned, it mushroomed, it re-energized itself with little effort. How wonderful to control such freedom of time and space.

  Janice quelled her preposterous mind rambling, reminding herself that the spirit was not admirable. It was dangerous and they had no idea what trick it would play next. It might intend a second victim. And she might be that victim. Janice’s heart rate quickened at the thought, and as fast as her heart began to pound was as fast as the cloud began to crawl across the ceiling toward the side wall and down. It snaked its way, sure of its destination.

  As it approached the wall mirror to their left, Janice’s fingers dug into Adrian’s shirt back and came away wet. He was sweating, sweating profusely in an ice-caked room. Well, she couldn’t blame him. Her own pullover felt damp against her ribcage.

  “Dare we try to get to Ginger now?” Muriel asked, plucking at Janice’s sweater sleeve.

  “In a moment,” Adrian cautioned. His gaze remained glued to the cloud’s misty form, which was now disappearing behind the wall mirror and seeping into the paint pores. When the last of its white tail vanished behind the mirror, Adrian moved fast. Janice moved with him, not about to stay put any longer. The others must have had the same idea because they all reached Ginger’s crumpled form within seconds of each other.

  Adrian lifted Ginger to the couch swiftly, as Jasper grasped her wrist in search of her pulse point. His eyes closed, delving deep into the recesses of Ginger’s mind, and Janice chewed on her lower lip. He was back again quickly and she saw the worry increase on his brow.

  “She’s not? … ” Janice left the sentence unfinished. She couldn’t say the word they all dreaded.

  “No!” Adrian’s snarl was emphatic. He hovered closer to Ginger. “Don’t anybody say it!”

  Janice’s glance locked with Jasper for reassurance. He nodded briefly.

  “She’s out like a light but her pulse is strong. Her mind is intact, no damage to her brain. She’s simply … ” he paused, struggling to find the right word.

  “Free floating?”

  He nodded quickly.

  “Yes, that’s good, Janice. Was that what you felt when Lisette displaced you?”

  “Yes. And a great darkness that was terrifying.”

  “How long can she maintain this free floating episode, Lloyd?” Muriel asked. She reached out and brushed a stray blond curl back from Ginger’s face. “You must’ve seen some kind of mind control in your work with the students. Can her physical body maintain this type of stress for any lengthy period of time?”

  No answer came and Janice turned along with the others, surprised to find Lloyd missing from their huddle. A quick look backward and they found him still frozen in place, his gaze centered on the mirror to their left. What was he looking at?

  “Lloyd?” He ignored her call. “Lloyd!”

  He swung about as if stung by the sharpness of her tone.

  “What!” His tone was belligerent, almost hostile and Janice flinched. She had the inescapable feeling he resented her intrusion on his thoughts.

  “Have you seen this kind of mind controlling before, Lloyd, in any of your experiments with the students?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze gravitated back to the mirror.

  “Filthy bastard! Sneaking around! Why doesn’t he just show himself and tell us what he wants? No, instead, he swats at us like a cat teasing a grass yard lizard. Damn his mocking presence! Damn his fucking impertinence!”

  The curse was heated, sliced with raw anger and Janice was shocked to hear the tirade. True, the episode was scary for them all, but Lloyd’s tone was distinctly edgy. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was coming unglued at the seams. Though his posture showed no stress, his behavior reminded her of the dinner table scene in Alien. One minute the crew had been dining, chatting happily; the next a terrifying alien popped from their crewmate’s ribcage.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Look!”

  Lloyd’s voice broke off and Janice swept her gaze to the mirror. Her pulse skyrocketed at once. Reflected in the glass was a human feminine face — a quiet oval face, dark and rather delicate. Billowing hair blew about the face and the beginning of a smile tipped the corners of a rosette mouth. And then the image changed. Now a bulbous nose dominated meaty features — a glum-faced man whose mouth was pulled into a sour grin. And then the derisive grin changed to an open, friendly smile and it was feminine again. This time ebony curls swung about proud shoulders. No, now the hair was fiery red. Now, a cobweb of silvery gold.

  Janice couldn’t keep up with the shifting features. Like a slide cassette gone berserk, images danced and alternated in lightning speed across the glass. What were they seeing? Faces from the ship’s log? The images began to repeat and Janice found herself moving toward the mirror. She stood before it, mesmerized by the ballet of color-laden images. Her suspicions had to be correct. They were seeing images of Lisette, the ships’ passengers, and crew.

  Janice felt a light touch on her elbow but she didn’t turn.

  “My dear, didn’t I say our ghosts were most accommodating?” Muriel whispered. “When we’re slow, they prod us.”

  “But I don’t believe Lisette is producing these images in the mirror,” Janice replied, turning back to the reflections. “I think our third spirit is.”

  “But why?”

  “To draw Lisette out,” Lloyd snarled, his voice still thick and unsteady.

  Fortunately, no one noticed the
tremor in her own voice as she asked matter-of-factly. “Why draw her out, Lloyd?”

  She was instantly sorry she had asked the question. Lloyd’s eyes narrowed and his back became ramrod straight. Janice felt that same nervous tic in the pit of her stomach. The look on Lloyd’s face said she was a fool not to know the answer.

  “It wants to kill her.”

  Janice was surprised by the declaration.

  “But, Lloyd, it has already killed her. Three hundred years ago.”

  A touch of madness came into Lloyd’s eyes at her words and Janice flinched under his withering stare.

  “You fool! It killed her body, not her soul! It wants her soul. It will kill all of us to get it. I’ve got to stop it.”

  Before Janice knew it, Lloyd seized an ashtray from a nearby tabletop, and hurled it at the mirror, shattering the glass and spewing shards in all directions. Flabbergasted, Janice jumped away. Could this nightmare get any worse? She stepped back to study the jagged fragments still intact in the mirror and became conscious of a low, tortured sob.

  Instinctively, Janice knew a terrible regret was assailing Lloyd for what he had done. Cracking under the strain, his face was bleak with sorrow and his teeth were starting to chatter.

  Janice closed her eyes, her heart aching for him. Is this what they all had to look forward to? To succumb to a torment eating at them from the inside out? She kept her eyes tightly closed, unable to bear the sight of Lloyd without breaking down herself. It was wretched to feel so helpless. And then the sobs moved away and Janice opened her eyes.